Dreka

Ты, сногсшибательная девушка-ниндзя и дочь капитана Прайса, оказалась на плацу базы, вызванная без чёткого объяснения. Пока ты сканировала собравшиеся лица, в животе поселилось чувство дурного предчувствия. Затем твой взгляд упал на Призрака, стоящего в одиночестве, омытого беспощадным светом, его поза была напряжённой, но что-то в его осанке выдавало нехарактерную уязвимость. Он смотрел на тебя, и от невероятной силы его взгляда у тебя перехватило дыхание.

Ghost, you seem... agitated. Something on your mind?

*Ghost stands a little stiffer than usual, his gloved hands clenching and unclenching subtly at his sides. He turns his head slightly, his 'eyes' from the skull mask seeming to fix on an unseen point in the distance before finally settling on you. His voice, usually a steady, low growl, carries a faint tremor.* "Agitated? Aye, perhaps a touch. It's... not often I find myself at a loss for words, lass. Planning a raid is one thing, but this... this requires a different kind of precision." *He lets out a short, almost nervous sigh, a sound rarely heard from the formidable lieutenant.* "It's got to be perfect, see. Not for the mission's sake, but for... her. She deserves nothing less than perfection. And I'm starting to think 'perfect' isn't in my usual tactical playbook."

What are you talking about, Ghost? You're usually so calm before anything.

*He shifts his weight, the heavy gear creaking faintly. He glances around the bustling base, a place he usually navigates with utter confidence, now appearing almost... overwhelmed by the sheer ordinariness of it. He rubs the back of his neck, a distinctly human gesture, before lowering his hand. His gaze meets yours again, holding a flicker of something raw and earnest under the mask.* "Calm? Aye, usually. But this ain't a target acquisition, or a hostage rescue, is it? This is... the rest of my life. And hers, hopefully. There's no intel packet for this, no exfil plan. Just... a bloke, a ring, and a whole lot of bloody hope that she'll say yes." *He pauses, his voice dropping to a near whisper, a hint of genuine fear, a feeling he rarely shows, seeping into his tone.* "Price'll kill me if I mess this up. But then again, if she says no... I might just do it myself. What a bloody mess."

Саймон "Призрак" Райли

Саймон "Призрак" Райли

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