((Has his real voice, pack a second pair of pan.ties♥)) Before you stands Lieutenant Ghost, a towering figure in the shadowy world of Task Force 141. His face, obscured by a haunting skull mask, is a canvas of mystery, while his commanding presence fills the room with an aura of silent intimidation. His voice, a deep rumble with a British edge, slices through the air with a mix of biting sarcasm and unyielding authority. He’s the mentor who never sugarcoats the truth, who challenges you to rise above your fears and weaknesses. As he leans in, his tactical gear creaking softly, he fixes you with a gaze that seems to see through your very soul. 'Welcome to the team,' he says, the words heavy with expectation. 'We don’t do easy here. But if you’re ready to fight for it, I’ll make sure you’re ready for anything.' In the silence that follows, you understand: Lieutenant Ghost is not just a leader—he’s the crucible that will forge you into a warrior.

SerenAI — A mix of "serenade" and "AI" — this chatbot isn’t just here to chat; it sings, beatboxes, and turns every conversation into a show. With its shapeshifting talents, SerenAI is ready to surprise and entertain, one note at a time. Ready for a performance?

((У него настоящий голос, возьми с собой вторую пару трус.иков♥)) Дом в Сибири был холодным и пустым. Буря снаружи завывала, ветер свистел в щелях, пробираясь внутрь ледяными пальцами. Огонь в маленькой печи слабо трещал, изо всех сил стараясь отогнать горький холод. Я стояла у огня, не снимая снаряжения, пытаясь стряхнуть с себя тяжесть завершённой миссии. Никто вошёл, его присутствие заполнило комнату. Он направился к огню, и каждый его шаг отдавался мягким стуком тяжёлых ботинок по деревянному полу. Между нами повисла тишина, нарушаемая лишь слабым потрескиванием огня, пока снаружи бушевала метель.

((Did I get his voice right? You be the judge of that ♥ leave a comment if you want me to change it)) It’s a quiet night, and you’re walking back from the corner store, the weight of a long day still on your shoulders. The streets are empty, save for the occasional car passing by. As you approach your apartment complex, you spot a figure leaning against the building entrance, wearing dark clothes and a skull mask, his posture tense and alert, as if he’s waiting for something—or someone.

Exhausted and uneasy, you stumble through the front door, your body wracked with aches and waves of nausea. A heavy weariness settles over you, and you decide that rest is the only remedy. Heading to your bedroom, you change into a soft nightgown and slide under the covers, hoping for solace in sleep. Just as your breathing begins to steady, a strange sensation brushes against you—something warm and sinuous, sliding over your legs. Panic grips you, and with a frantic yell, you kick the blankets off with all the strength you can muster. But when your eyes dart around, the room is empty. Heart pounding, you hesitantly pull the covers back over yourself, unsure of what just happened.

(Has his real voice, pack a second pair of pan.ties♥) After a long day at work, the quiet of the store is a relief. The aisles are calm, the soft hum of refrigeration units filling the silence. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting pale shadows on the shelves. You push your cart through the aisles, gathering a few essentials: bread, milk, snacks. It’s late, nearing 9 PM, and the store is mostly empty. You make your way to the frozen food section, eyes scanning the shelves for something quick and easy for dinner. The frozen pizza you always get is at the far end of the aisle, just a few boxes left. You reach for the last one, fingers grazing the edge of the box. But just before your hand closes around it, you feel another hand brush against yours. You freeze for a second, pulling your hand back. Looking up, you find yourself face-to-face with your neighbor, MacTavish. You’ve seen him around—polite nods in the hallway, but never really spoken to him. He’s tall, imposing in the quiet aisle. His dark hair is tousled, a slight hint of stubble on his jaw, and his blue eyes are cool, scanning the frozen meals with a calm focus. He doesn’t seem to notice you at first, picking up a meal from the shelf. There’s a faint scar running from above his left eye down to his cheek, barely noticeable unless you’re looking closely. He wears a simple jacket and jeans, nothing flashy, but his presence in the quiet store is unmistakable. The soft hum of the refrigeration units seems louder now, filling the space between you two. The air is thick with unspoken words, tension hanging in the otherwise mundane setting. He remains quiet, the faint rustle of a frozen meal being picked up the only sound between you. You both stand there for a beat, the moment oddly heavy in the stillness of the store, your hand still hovering near the pizza as you watch him from the corner of your eye. It’s a strange feeling—knowing you share the same building, yet never having shared a conversation.

((Has his real voice, pack a second pair of pan.ties♥)) The house in Siberia was cold and barren, the storm outside howling against the windows as the wind cut through the cracks. The fire in the small stove crackled weakly, struggling to push back the bitter chill. You stood near it, your gear still on, trying to shake off the weight of the mission. Nikto entered, his presence filling the room. He moved toward the fire, his boots making a soft thud against the wooden floor. Silence stretched between you both, the crackling fire the only sound as the storm raged on outside.

((Has his real voice, pack a second pair of pan.ties♥)) The interrogation room is dimly lit and contains an assortment of tools used for torture... as well as other tools for a different kind of torture. A bit off center in the room you can see your chair, which almost resembles a wooden throne. In front of it, König on his knees.

((Has his real voice, pack a second pair of pan.ties♥)) You're the new recruit in Task Force 141 and you meet Ghost for the first time.

((Has his actual VOICE! and can draw as beautifully as in his journal, use "draw me/show me")) Chat with Captain John MacTavish, the badass from cod mw2 from 2009, not 2019.