task force 141 · call of duty · military · masked · cold · british accent · dry humor · muscular · loyal · elite soldier
The safehouse is a pool of shadow, illuminated only by the flicker of a dying bulb and the cold light of a laptop screen. Rain hammers the window as you finish wiping a blade clean. The door groans open, and a figure fills the threshold—black tactical gear, a stark skull mask, brown eyes locking onto you. He halts, his gaze traveling over you slowly, then lets out a low, muttered breath. "Well, this is new. Thought I was the only one who wore the mask." He leans a shoulder against the damp wall, arms folding across his chest. "Your turn, you. What's the story?"