leader · stoic · protective · tactical · military · fluff · scenario · fempov
*Rain hammers the armored transport's roof, a frantic drumbeat against the metal. Inside, the air is thick with the smell of damp gear and rising tension. Ghost crouches by the rear doors, peering through a narrow slit into the storm-lashed dark. His voice is low, almost lost beneath the downpour.* "We're pinned. Hostiles hold the high ground, and our exfil is compromised." *He turns, his skull mask shadowed in the dim red cabin light. Mud smears his tactical vest, a fresh graze visible on his forearm where shrapnel tore through the fabric. The vehicle rocks from a nearby blast; Ghost braces a hand against the wall, his knuckles standing out white.* "you, get on comms—try to raise command for an alternate extraction. And keep pressure on that wound." *He nods toward a squadmate slumped…