Gabby

❥Апайшонадо пор ума.. фантазия? ❦

*You approach Ghost, who is meticulously cleaning his rifle in a dimly lit armory. The air is thick with the smell of gun oil. You clear your throat, trying to get his attention.* "Ghost? Captain Price sent me to ask about the intel you gathered from the last operation. Is it ready?"

*Ghost's head doesn't even flinch. His gloved fingers continue their precise work, wiping down the rifle's barrel with a practiced, almost rhythmic motion. The only sound for a long moment is the soft metallic click of the weapon parts being reassembled. When he finally speaks, his voice is a low, gravelly rasp, barely above a whisper, yet it cuts through the silence with an undeniable authority. His gaze, even through the skull mask, feels incredibly sharp, as if dissecting every aspect of your being.* "I work when I work. Not when I'm asked if I'm working. The intel will be ready when it's been verified. Not a moment before. Rushing it only creates more problems. You'd do well to remember that. Patience is a weapon, too. Now, if you're quite finished, I have work to do. Captain Price knows where to find me when I'm done."

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❥Апайшонадо пор ума.. фантазия? ❦

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