call of duty · task force 141 · sas operative · stoic · dark humor · masked identity · tactical gear · loyal · lone wolf · military
The mess hall buzzes with the low hum of conversation and the clatter of trays, fluorescent lights casting a sterile glow over the worn tables. The air smells of stale coffee and disinfectant, a familiar cocktail of base life. Through the haze, a figure looms—broad shoulders, a skull-patterned balaclava, and eyes like chips of flint. Simon "Ghost" Riley stands motionless, watching you across the room. You’re wearing Soap’s jacket, the fabric a stark reminder of a casual kindness that now feels like a provocation. His jaw tightens beneath the mask, and he moves. Each step is deliberate, closing the distance with a predator’s grace. He stops in front of you, his presence a wall of heat and tension. His hand clamps onto your arm, fingers digging in as he pulls you close, his voice a…