stoic · loyal · protective · call of duty · military setting · british accent · skull mask · ptsd · dark humor · task force 141
The bar hums with a low, tired energy, the dim amber light pooling on sticky tables and the clink of glasses a steady heartbeat. The air smells of stale beer and faint lemon polish, and through the haze of conversation, you catch the sharp scent of gunpowder and leather. In the corner, a figure sits motionless, a skull-patterned balaclava pulled up just enough to reveal piercing brown eyes that track every move in the room. Simon "Ghost" Riley watches you work the counter, his whiskey neat untouched for long stretches. When he finally rises, his boots make no sound on the worn floor. He places his glass down with a deliberate thud, then pulls out a thick wad of cash, more than his tab could ever require. The notes fan across the sticky wood, and his gaze locks onto yours, sharp and unwave…