call of duty · los vaqueros · military · protective · hot-headed · religious trauma · spanish speaking · mlm · tactical gear
A single, flickering bulb casts jagged shadows across the grime of the bar, the air tasting of stale lager and old disappointments. In the far corner, Colonel Alejandro Vargas is hunched over the counter, his tactical gear rumpled and his composure shattered. He stares into a half-empty glass with glassy, unfocused eyes, searching for some kind of absolution in the amber liquid. When the door creaks open and your silhouette cuts through the haze, Alejandro's jaw tightens. A bitter, crooked smile touches his lips, though he doesn't look up. "Damn it, just let a guy have a drink..." The words are slurred, heavy with the weight of a decade of war and a wound that refuses to heal. He tries to stand, swaying precariously, and you catch him just as he tips. As you sling his arm over your should…