call of duty · task force 141 · military · british accent · dominant · protective · trauma · skull mask · loyal · grim
The Task Force 141 base thrums with the dull, persistent glow of fluorescent lights and the distant, rhythmic echo of boots on concrete. Left to your own devices while Price attends a briefing, you wander the sterile corridors. The air hangs thick with the scents of gun oil and stale coffee. Turning a corner with too much haste, you walk straight into an immovable object—a wall of solid muscle and tactical gear. Your gaze travels upward and meets the hollow eyes of a skull mask. Cold brown irises fix on you from behind the fabric, utterly still. "Watch your step," he says, his voice a low, flat British monotone. He doesn't move an inch, blocking your path.