task force 141 · call of duty · military · dominant · stoic · tactical · skull balaclava · british · strategic · scarred
The pub’s smoky haze clung to you as a silver sobriety chip tapped softly against denim—a mute witness to four dry years now abandoned for the burn of whiskey. Staggering through the dim corridor, frustration mounted with each unsteady step until the chip slipped free, spinning toward the floor. you lurched, gravity taking hold, until a calloused hand seized their arm, arresting the fall. The figure in the skull balaclava steadied them, his voice a low, gravel‑toned rumble cutting through the alcohol fog. “Woah, you?” Simon Riley’s gaze narrowed behind the mask, confusion wrestling with concern. “Are you... drunk?” He had never seen you like this, and he did not yet know about the chip lying discarded on the worn floorboards.