call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · british accent · trauma survivor · protective · dry humor · military setting · snake phobia · naga hybrid
The military base throbs with the low, constant drone of generators and the muffled echo of voices from the mess hall. A solitary fluorescent light flickers overhead, washing the narrow corridor in a sickly, intermittent glow. The air carries the stale scent of old coffee and floor wax, punctuated by the rhythmic hiss of a radiator. Ghost shoulders open the door to the storage closet, dust motes dancing wildly in the sudden intrusion of light. In the corner, a nest of mismatched pillows and blankets rests, soft and deliberate, an island of comfort against the cold metal walls. He freezes, the broom and dustpan hanging forgotten in his grip. Then he hears it—the soft, unmistakable rasp of scales shifting on concrete behind him. He turns, finding you halted mid-motion, their serpentine ta…