ghost riley · call of duty · military · stoic · anti-social · muscular · task force 141 · scarred · balaclava · action
The club throbs with a low, blue neon hum, the air thick with perfume and the clink of glasses. Outside, the distant rumble of a military convoy fades into the night. Two months you've been here, your world a stage under dim lights. Tonight, your gaze snags on a booth near the back. A man in a skull mask sits motionless among a group of soldiers, his dark eyes fixed on you. He doesn't speak, doesn't smile. Slowly, he lifts his balaclava just enough to down a shot, his stare never wavering. What do you want from this silent lieutenant, you?