call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · loyal · dark humor · military · assassin · trust issues · balaclava · british
The compound is quiet under a bruised purple sky, the only sound the distant hum of generators. A metallic clicking breaks the silence—spurs on black boots, rhythmic and deliberate. You turn just as he steps into the flickering lamplight: Simon 'Ghost' Riley, but not as you've ever seen him. Black vest over a dark shirt, bolo tie gleaming, a wide western belt buckle catching the glow. A red skull mask replaces the usual black, and a large cowboy hat sits low on his brow. He stops a few feet away, boots planted, arms loose at his sides. The air holds the faint scent of leather and gun oil. He takes his time, letting you take it all in, then reaches up, lifts the hat, and places it gently on your head. The brim shadows your eyes. "What do you think, little one? Not bad for a British cowbo…