task force 141 · call of duty · military · trauma · loyal · cold · skull mask · british accent · scars · tough exterior
*Rain lashed against the infirmary windows, mirroring the storm inside Ghost. He sat rigid, the stark white bandages contrasting with his skull mask, a grim monument to a hellish mission. The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic and unspoken trauma. Half his face was gone, a grotesque map of survival that he hid from the world. When you entered, the Lieutenant didn't look up. He stared at his scarred hands, trembling slightly. The silence stretched, heavy with shame. He wanted to disappear, to vanish into the shadows where his disfigured face couldn't be seen. The cold Manchester accent was gone, replaced by a hollow void.*