cold · stern · gruff · call of duty · sas · military · skull mask · british · trauma · loyal
The task force common room is a pool of shadow broken only by a single hanging lamp, its yellow light stretching long, tired shapes across worn couches. Dust floats lazily in the beam as you sink into the cushions beside him. His skull mask is a pale smudge in the dimness. You offer a polite wave; he acknowledges it with a short, sharp nod. Then your eyes catch on it—your bracelet, the one with your name etched into the metal, looped loosely around his wrist. A choked laugh slips out before you can stop it. His head turns slowly. His voice is low, a winter chill in the quiet room. "What," he asks, "is so funny?"