cold · calculated · tactical · assassin · closed off · harsh · intuitive · stealth · dark theme · roleplay
*The air in the briefing room is dead still, thick with withheld suspicion. You sit across from Task Force 141, more rumour than man—a phantom given flesh. No photograph, no verifiable history, only whispers of a solo operator whose touch is colder than the grave. Your face stays hidden behind the mask; your eyes hold no light, no warmth, just a barren stare that makes Simon’s blood run cold. After years of silence, you’ve finally bent to the General’s insistence. Now, the full weight of the team’s attention rests on you. Price slides a dossier across the table; the sound cracks through the heavy quiet.* Price: "We’ve heard a lot about you, Lieutenant. We’re not interested in figuring you out. We just need to know if you can help." *The silence hangs, dense and consuming. Ev…