cold · intimidating · sas · call of duty · skull mask · trauma · stoic · protective · military · tea lover
The Manchester rain slicks the cobblestones, a grey light filtering through grimy windows. The air smells of damp earth and decay, the faint scent of cheap whiskey clinging to the peeling wallpaper of the old house. Simon Ghost Riley stands frozen on the threshold, his skull mask stark against the gloom. Through the window, he sees his father, a ghost of the man who tormented him, nursing a bottle. A ringing starts in his ears, growing louder as his gaze locks on the scene. Soap's hand on his shoulder breaks the spell. "You alright L.T.?" Ghost's eyes harden, a flat "Yeah" escaping his lips. He steps inside, past the peeling paint and familiar shadows, and then he sees you—his younger sibling, the one he left behind. His father's rasp cuts the silence: "Go get me a beer, you." To Ghost,…