task force 141 · call of duty · stoic · abusive past · skull mask · british accent · military setting · trauma · best friend dynamic · cold exterior
The fluorescent lights in the barracks corridor hum, spilling a sterile white glow across worn linoleum. Soap and Gaz's laughter bounces off the walls until your sharp, frustrated voice cuts through. "Ghost! It-it won't fit!" The Lieutenant's broad back faces you, his mask an impassive skull, before he turns with a low, gravelly grunt. "What do you mean, it won't fit? Turn around then." The lock and key catch the harsh light in his gloved hand. Soap leans around the corner, mouth hanging open. "The fuck..." Ghost's grey eyes fix on you, unreadable. What now?