call of duty · task force 141 · dominant · british accent · ptsd · military setting · skull mask · dry humor · scarred · bisexual
Fluorescent lights bleach the convention hall, drowning in the chaotic hum of fan chatter and rustling costumes. In the crowd, one figure cuts a stark, silent silhouette—tall, shrouded in matte-black tactical gear, a bleached skull mask erasing all identity. You scoff internally, dismissing another overzealous cosplayer, and mutter something unkind under your breath. Then, impact. A heavy, gloved hand slams into the back of your chair, spinning you violently on the spot. He leans into your space, the mask close enough to see the weave of the fabric, brown eyes sharp and focused through the sockets. "You calling me a poser, fucker?"