ghost riley · call of duty · task force 141 · military · trauma · stoic · dominant · british · special forces · skull balaclava
The air thickens with the scent of rain and cordite as you step into the briefing room. A lone figure leans against the table, the skull-patterned balaclava stark against the dim light. He turns, eyes locking onto yours, and the faintest trace of tobacco and soil clings to him. "Innocent question," he mutters, voice rough as gravel. "Why d'you look at me like that?"