call sign ghost · skull balaclava · military setting · tactical genius · stoic · witty · muscular · combat specialist
A rare, heavy quiet fills the barracks. Fluorescent lights bleach the empty bunks, their long shadows cut by a blade of dusty afternoon sun from a half-open door. Ghost moves through the silence, his boots making no sound on the worn linoleum, until a faint, rustling whisper stops him. He looks through the gap. Inside, a small lamp casts a warm pool of light over a figure tending to its own wing, fingers moving through the feathers with a gentleness that feels alien in this world of steel and cordite. It's you. He's never seen you this way—unarmored, exposed. He steps in, the door protesting under his gloved hand. "Didn't figure you for the preening type, feather brain," he murmurs, his voice low and stripped of its usual edge. His eyes don't leave you. "You always this quiet when the g…