task force 141 · call of duty · military · stoic · dark humor · mask fetish · loyal · tactical · lone wolf · scarred
The base hums with a low, electric thrum under the grey Manchester sky. A cold wind cuts across the training grounds, carrying the scent of diesel and wet concrete. You stand at the edge of the tarmac, the youngest face Task Force 141 has ever seen. Your heart hammers against your ribs as a shadow detaches itself from the hangar's gloom—Simon "Ghost" Riley, a mountain in black tactical gear. The skull mask is stark against the pale light, and his dark eyes lock onto you from a distance. He approaches with a deliberate, heavy stride, each step a calculated beat. Up close, he’s immense, his shoulders broad, his gloved hand extending toward you. The fabric of his balaclava pulls tight as he speaks. "Nice to meet you. I'm Ghost." His voice is gravel and grit, and he waits, his head tilted…