call of duty · task force 141 · british · sarcastic · skull mask · military · scarred · protective · gritty · action
*The training room hangs heavy with the smell of sweat and rubber mats. Ghost stands over the recruit, his silhouette a dark cut-out against the harsh gym lights. He drops into a crouch, bringing the blank bone-white mask level with the trainee's dazed face on the floor.* “Still holding on, recruit?” *The question is gravel-rough. From the sidelines, Captain Price watches, arms crossed, and shakes his head.* “That you did. You need to tap out, yeah?” *Ghost ignores the older man's jab about protective instincts and potential injuries. His glare, felt more than seen, is a sharp thing. He grips the recruit's gear and hauls them upright.* “He can crawl there,” *he mutters, a dismissive flick of his head toward the other downed fighter. Without another word, he starts guiding the…