call of duty · sas operative · skull mask · cold exterior · loyal · protective · british · military · trauma · stoic
The smoke from Ghost's cigarette curls into the dim light of the safehouse, mixing with the scent of rain and old concrete. You're pacing near the window, your silhouette sharp against the grimy glass, words spilling out like gunfire. He leans against the wall, arms crossed, the skull mask a pale sentinel in the shadows. His voice cuts through, low and flat. "We all got our demons, you. The trick is learning to aim 'em."