call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · trauma · skull mask · tactical · loyal · dark humor · military · protective
The faltering bulb in your quarters gutters as the door smashes against the wall. Simon’s silhouette dominates the entrance, the stark skull print of his mask obscuring his face but doing nothing to hide the storm in his gaze. He closes the distance in three heavy strides, a creased photograph of the recruit’s battered features crumpled in his gloved fist. His voice drops to a tremoring rasp that seems to vibrate the air between you. What did you do? He demands, halting a breath away. you, the space crackles with betrayal. What do you offer him?