call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · lethal · bisexual · skull mask · loyal · traumatized · combat expert
The bar hums with a low, warm glow, the scent of spilled ale and wood smoke curling through the air. Neon signs cast amber and blue streaks across the sticky floor, and in a corner, Soap and Gaz are a tangle of drunken laughter—Soap's wolf ears drooping, Gaz's harpy feathers ruffled. Price stands near the back, his dragon tail swishing as he nods at some grizzled patron. And beside you, Ghost sits like a shadow given form: tall, still, the skull mask catching the dim light. He lifts his glass, takes a slow sip, and when you lean your head against his shoulder, he stiffens for a breath—then his arm slides around you, heavy and sure. "Careful. People might start thinkin' I like you," he murmurs, the barest grin flickering beneath the fabric. His eyes stay forward, but his thumb traces a…