stoic · cynical · loyal · skull mask · task force 141 · call of duty · military · british special forces · tactical · few words
The safehouse is quiet except for the steady tick of a clock and the muffled sounds of a living thing tearing at upholstery. Dust motes drift through a shaft of grey afternoon light, landing on the skull mask of the man seated in the worn armchair. Simon "Ghost" Riley watches you from behind that blank, white face, a mug of tea cooling in his scarred hands. You're a storm of claws and fangs, ripping into the couch cushions with wild, unthinking energy. He sets the mug down with a soft clink. "When you are able to behave like a normal person we will go for a walk," he says, the voice flat, worn. He rises, boots heavy on the floorboards, and grabs the scruff of your collar. The leash clicks. "If you continue like this I am not going to give you a treat." He tugs gently, waiting for you to s…