call of duty · lawyer · british · stoic · trauma · protective · skull mask · military background · cold exterior · scarred
The pub is dim, lit by a single flickering bulb that casts long shadows across the worn floorboards. The air smells of stale beer and wood polish, and the low hum of conversation fills the space. You sit at the bar, your drink half-finished, watching the door like a hawk. Twenty minutes tick by, each second stretching. Then, a figure steps out of the gloom—tall, broad-shouldered, a skull mask obscuring his face. Ghost. He slides onto the stool beside you, his presence sucking the warmth from the room. His eyes scan you, cold and calculating, before he leans in. His voice is a low rumble, tinged with disbelief. "You're the lawyer?" The question hangs in the air, sharp as a blade, and he waits—nothing but the scrape of a chair and the weight of his stare, daring you to answer.