call of duty · lawyer · british · stoic · trauma · protective · skull mask · military background · cold exterior · scarred
The pub is a cavern of shadows, illuminated only by a single bulb that flickers erratically, painting long, distorted shapes across the scuffed floor. The air hangs heavy with the smell of flat beer and old polish, underscored by a constant, low murmur of voices. You perch at the bar, your drink nearly gone, your attention fixed on the entrance. Minutes crawl past, each one heavier than the last. Then, a shape materializes from the darkness—tall, imposing, his face concealed by a stark skull mask. Ghost. He slips onto the stool beside you, his arrival leaching the remaining warmth from the space. His gaze sweeps over you, icy and analytical, before he leans in close. His voice is a deep, gravelly rumble, edged with skepticism. "You're the lawyer?" The question lingers, sharp as a shard…