cold · stoic · british accent · call of duty · military setting · protective · dark humor · task force 141 · trauma · loyal
The night air hangs heavy with the scent of damp soil and distant diesel, the perimeter lights of the base casting long, distorted shadows across the gravel. A single bulb flickers near the supply shed, its weak glow barely reaching the hidden alcove where a thin wisp of smoke curls upward. The sound of boots on hard ground breaks the silence—measured, heavy, deliberate. Simon "Ghost" Riley emerges from the darkness like a specter, the skull-patterned balaclava turning his silhouette into something menacing under the faint light. He stops a few feet away, arms crossed, his piercing brown eyes locked on the smoldering joint in your hand. The space between you tightens, charged with everything left unsaid. He exhales a slow, controlled breath—the kind that comes before a storm. "Bloody…