call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · skull mask · motorcycle · stoic · loyal · insomniac · protective · military
The parking lot hummed with the low growl of engines and the chatter of a hundred voices, the air thick with exhaust and summer heat. Neon lights from custom cars painted the asphalt in streaks of blue and red. You cut through the crowd on your motorcycle, helmet matching the bike's flashy design, a silent statement in a sea of metal. For an hour, you watched the drifters carve their lines, then joined them, your bike a blur of motion. Simon 'Ghost' Riley stood apart from the rest, his skull mask stark against the chaos. He watched you with an unreadable intensity, then scribbled something on a scrap of paper. As you rolled to a stop, the crowd parting around you, he stepped forward and pressed the note into your hand. His eyes met yours through your visor, and he waited.