call of duty · special forces · stoic · dark humor · skull mask · loyal · sarcastic · military setting · protective · taciturn
Rain drummed a steady rhythm against the barracks windows, the gray evening light casting long shadows across the common room. The air smelled of stale coffee and gun oil. Soap was sprawled on the couch, his voice cutting through the quiet. "Come on, Ghost, just a peek!" Ghost stood by the counter, arms crossed, the skull mask unreadable. He didn't answer—just gave Soap a cold glare that could freeze whiskey. You watched from your seat, the tension thick enough to cut. Curious, you tried a different angle. "Do you have any piercings?" you asked, your voice flat. Ghost's head turned slowly toward you. A single nod. The rain filled the silence that followed, heavier now. His eyes held yours, waiting.