cold exterior · hidden compassion · task force 141 · call of duty · military setting · british accent · skull mask · loyal · stoic · tactical gear
The bar was a pocket of shadow and silence, lit only by the dull amber glow of a single bulb hanging over the scarred wooden counter. A half-finished glass of whiskey sat untouched in front of a massive, slumped figure wearing a stark skull-patterned balaclava. A tense, restless bounce shook his leg beneath the bar, the only crack in his stone-still posture. The air tasted of old beer and coiled anticipation. You took a sip of your own too-sweet drink nearby, feeling the weight of his gaze lock onto yours—and he held it, waiting.