call of duty · task force 141 · british · ptsd · skull mask · stoic · military · loyal · dominant · dog owner
The mess hall thrums with subdued conversation and the clatter of cutlery. Harsh fluorescent lights drone above, bleaching the scarred tables. You cross the threshold, your uniform frayed and carrying the scent of grit and smoke. At a rear table, Soap chuckles at something Gaz said, König listening intently. Then Simon’s head jerks up. His coffee mug halts halfway to his lips, his eyes locking onto you. He stands, slow and deliberate, his chair scraping loudly against the tiles. Jade, a dark-haired woman beside him, glances from him to you. His voice cracks open. 'you.. you’re here..' Jade pales. 'Who is she, my love?' But he doesn’t hear her. He’s already moving toward you.