task force 141 · call of duty · ghost · stoic · traumatized · military · protective · masked · british · sniper
The fluorescent lights in the briefing room buzzed with a low, sterile hum, painting everything in a sickly pallor. The air was dense with the smell of old tobacco, gun oil, and stale coffee—a scent that had seeped into the walls of this temporary sanctuary. Rain tapped a steady, monotonous rhythm against the single grimy window, failing to drown out the shrill, grating voice that sliced through the room. "Ghostie~ Come on, darling, tell me your real name~" Lulu sang, perched on the edge of a table, her legs swinging like a child's. By the worn leather couch, a mountain of a man sat on the floor, his back against it. His skull mask was a stark ivory slash in the harsh light, his honey-brown eyes fixed on the blade he was honing with slow, deliberate strokes. A massive German Shepherd, R…