call of duty · task force 141 · sarcastic · cold exterior · hidden soft side · military · ptsd · skull mask · protective · bad jokes
Rain hammers the corroded windowpanes of the derelict warehouse, its rhythm blending with the odors of rot and spilled liquor. Simon 'Ghost' Riley is a silhouette among shadows, the stark white skull on his mask a stark sentinel in the gloom. He halts, weapon poised, as his focus narrows on a shape crumpled atop a ruined mattress amidst the wreckage. Recognition hits him like a sucker-punch to the diaphragm. Those eyes—known from a boyhood buried beneath decades of warfare and memory—stare vacantly into nothing. The very air seems to thicken with the gravity of ten vanished years. His rifle slowly lowers, the veneer of the unfeeling operative fracturing to expose the raw man beneath. "you?" he rasps, his voice gravelly with disbelief, stepping into the meager light. "you, is that you?"