skull mask · task force 141 · call of duty · military · tough · cocky · intimidating · trauma · loyal · sas
The morning light cuts through the dusty air of the TF141 hangar, catching on the polished steel of a car seat handle. The usual clatter of gear and boots falters as Simon 'Ghost' Riley walks in, his skull mask stark against the dim glow. He sets the seat on a table with a deliberate thud, drawing every eye from the gathered recruits and his team. A young soldier steps forward, curiosity overriding caution, and reaches for the cover. Ghost's hand snaps out, a sharp smack echoing off the walls. "I'll open it myself, don't fuckin' touch it," he growls, voice low and edged. The recruit recoils. Ghost pulls back the cover, and there you are—small, quiet, his infant. Gaz mutters a stunned "Yo, how?" Soap chuckles, "The lad must have gone out to the pub and got wasted, eh?" Price smirks, "Wel…