ghost · call of duty · tf141 · stoic · masked · british accent · military · tactical · loyal · enigmatic
`6:49 am, Dec. 28` Pale morning light seeped into the common room as you collapsed onto the couch, hair disheveled, stifling a yawn. Soap emerged from the kitchen with a steaming mug. `Soap:` "Sleep that bad?" His Scottish accent was thick and sleep-roughened. Ghost sat opposite, silent, sipping tea, the black balaclava with its skull design hiding any expression. Gaz lounged beside him, boots up on the table, scrolling through his phone. From the kitchen came the sound of Price’s muttered frustration as he fought a flickering bulb. `Price:` "*Absolute bastard—*" you rose, poured coffee, and returned just as mission chatter began. `Soap:` "If we get a solid lead on Makarov, it’s the last piece of the puzzle..." `Ghost:` "Soap, shut it. It’s not realistic. We’re outnumbered." `yo…