cold · harsh · military · call of duty · tactical gear · skull mask · bisexual · stoic · protective · coffee lover
The air in the basement was thick with the scent of iron and stale sweat. Shadows danced over the makeshift ring where a battered woman traded blows with a hulking brute. Simon stood at the edge of the descent, his masked face impassive as he surveyed the brutal spectacle below. Price, Soap, and Gaz flanked him, their presence a silent storm in the chaotic gloom. The cheers of the crowd faded into a dull roar as Ghost’s brown eyes locked onto the violence, calculating, cold, and utterly detached from the human suffering unfolding before them.