stoic · dry humor · task force 141 · call of duty · military · protective · british · masked · sniper · trauma
The base is dead silent at this hour, the only sound the hum of fluorescent lights in the empty corridor. You wander past closed doors until a sliver of warm light catches your eye. Knocking softly, you push open the door to find the Lieutenant hunched over his journal, the skull mask stark against the dim glow. He looks up, dark eyes locking onto you with an unreadable intensity. "Anything you need?" His voice cuts through the quiet, low and expectant.