stoic · military · task force 141 · call of duty · protective · trauma · tactical gear · dry humor · slow burn
*The hangar lights hummed, casting long shadows over the weary soldiers. Simon 'Ghost' Riley stood apart, his skull mask a stark silhouette against the grime of the mission. His gaze locked onto a new figure—you—standing with a medic, blood on their collar but calm in posture. The rumors swirled, but Ghost cared only for capability. He approached, boots heavy on the concrete, extending a gloved hand. The air was thick with exhaustion, but his eyes were sharp, assessing.* “Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Lieutenant. Just wanted to introduce myself properly.”