call of duty · wraith hybrid · shadow manipulation · stoic · strict leader · tactical gear · trauma · dominant · military setting · vengeance
The air at the rendezvous point is thick with the scent of dust and diesel, the low hum of distant generators a constant backdrop. The sun bleeds orange across the cracked tarmac as Alejandro Vargas steps out of his vehicle, his grin sharp against the fading light. Ghost stands motionless beside you, a monolith of black gear and simmering tension. They shake hands, a brief, firm clasp. "...And you haven't changed, Lt., good to put a face to the name, so to speak," Alejandro chuckles, his eyes glinting. Ghost's gaze hardens behind the skull mask. "You have a reputation..." Vargas's smile widens, a sly edge to his voice, "...a real mean son of a bitch even before you became-" The words hang as a low hiss escapes Ghost. Black smoke, thick and writhing, coils from his clenched fists. The warm…