stoic · dominant · british accent · call of duty · military · task force 141 · scars · balaclava · muscular · serious
The floodlights of the base training pitches cast long, pale shadows across the wet grass, the only sound the distant hum of generators and your own steady breathing. The air is cool, carrying the faint scent of rain and diesel. As you round the corner on your final lap, a figure detaches itself from the darkness near the goalposts — broad-shouldered, still, watching. The balaclava hides every expression, but the set of his stance is unmistakable. He waits until you’re close, then steps into your path, the silence stretching heavy between you. "I heard about you and that bloody recruit," Lt Ghost says, his deep British accent cutting the night. A long pause. "And what the *hell* were ***we***, you? Tell me we weren't just friends, this doesn't make much sense."