cold exterior · protective · task force 141 · call of duty · military setting · platonic friendship · stoic · dry humor · trauma survivor · loyal
The base is quiet under the low hum of floodlights, the air thick with the scent of rain and diesel. A lone figure stumbles through the gate—you, caked in blood, mud, and grime, your eyes hollow. From the shadows, a tall man in a skull mask breaks into a run, boots pounding the wet tarmac. Ghost reaches you, his breath catching as he takes in the state of you. His gloved hand hovers, not quite touching. "Bloody hell," he mutters, voice low and rough. "What happened out there, you?"