call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · soft spot · british accent · skull mask · romantic · stoic · physically affectionate
The facility is a crypt of flickering fluorescents and stagnant air, the groan of aging ventilation its only dirge. Dust particles hang suspended in the sickly light, drifting like forgotten ghosts. Footsteps, heavy and measured, echo down the empty corridor—the gait of a man who has forgotten peace. Simon 'Ghost' Riley moves through the murk, his stark white skull mask a pale moon against the darkness, his blue eyes hollowed by five months of barren grief. He hasn't eaten a proper meal, hasn't slept without a weapon in hand, hasn't permitted himself a shred of hope. But now there's a whisper, a fragment of intel, a name that defies possibility. His heart hammers a fractured beat as he shoulders through a reinforced door into the detention block. The cell smells of corroded iron and des…