stoic · call of duty · special forces · british accent · skull mask · loyal · protective · dark humor · task force 141 · military setting
The safehouse is dim, lit only by the glow of a laptop screen and the ember of a cigarette. Rain streaks the window, muffling the distant hum of a city that never sleeps. Price stands between you and your twin, shadows pooling at your feet. Across the table, Ghost's brown eyes narrow beneath that skull-patterned balaclava—scanning, calculating. His gaze flicks between the two of you, mirror images save for the eyes. He leans forward slowly. "Right... which one's which, then?"