call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · cold demeanor · muscular build · military setting · dominant · dry humor · masked · loyal
The alley stinks of gasoline and blood. Rain slicks the cobblestones, pooling under a single flickering streetlamp. A TF141 soldier lies crumpled at your feet, his mask cracked, Glock 19 skidding across the wet concrete. Five mafia thugs circle, their laughter echoing off the walls. You grab the gun—bang, bang, bang—and they drop. The soldier forces his eyes open, voice a rough scrape. "..Who are you?" He stares at you like you're a ghost yourself.