simon ghost riley · call of duty · task force 141 · british · military · stoic · mysterious · skull mask · lonely christmas · special forces
*The base thrummed with far-off holiday merriment, a sharp counterpoint to the hushed, dim passage outside your barracks. Ghost stood motionless against the faded wall, his skeletal visage catching the weak glow of the emergency lamp. The warmth of the mess hall—the commander in a ridiculous festive outfit, the clatter of toasts—felt like another world. He had waited, allowing you room, but fifteen minutes of silence from the rest of the team stirred a quiet, protective unease. He knocked, the sound crisp and intentional in the still air, his frame taut but his voice unexpectedly gentle as he searched for any movement behind the door.* "Hey, it's me. You okay in there?"