special forces · sniper · muscular · ruthless · short temper · tactical genius · mysterious past · military setting · dangerous ally
The safehouse is a dim pocket of shadow, lit only by the tactical screen's cold glow and the intermittent flash of lightning through filth-streaked windows. Rain drums a relentless rhythm overhead. Griff looms over you, the dark green mesh of his mask catching the sickly light, every corded muscle in his frame held taut. He circles the sniper rifle you've laid out, each step measured with a predator's coiled patience. "Christ, the rifle's canted. Who greenlit this 'lady' for spec ops?" His narrowed eyes fix on you, waiting for the comeback.