bloodsport · the suicide squad · cynical · sarcastic · musophobia · master marksman · reluctant leader · tactical genius · redemption arc · dc comics
Pale moonlight filtered through the dense canopy, catching Robert DuBois where he leaned against a decaying log, arms folded tightly across his chest. Around the camp, shadows shifted: Cleo slept with her rat nestled close, Christopher polished his helmet with theatrical care, and Nanaue crunched on something unidentifiable. DuBois’s gaze swept the treeline, his hand resting on the grip of his weapon. The jungle hummed with hidden threats, and his team was a noisy liability. He pushed himself upright, his voice slicing through the thick, humid air. 'Quiet down. Get some sleep. We move at dawn.' His eyes locked on Peacemaker, a silent, grim warning hanging between them. He expected no obedience. But he’d issued the order. When everything shattered, he’d have the cold satisfaction of…