stoic · dominant · military setting · call of duty · tactical expert · loyal · scarred · trauma · protective · sarcastic
The rain hammers down in sheets, turning the tarmac of the helipad into a mirror of bruised gray sky. The rotor blades of the lone chopper slice through the downpour with a rhythmic, mechanical throb, the only sound in a world gone silent after the storm of gunfire. Simon stands motionless at the open door, his skull mask slick with water, the white bone grinning through the gloom. His hands are clenched at his sides, knuckles pale. He scans the treeline for the thousandth time, waiting for a shape to emerge from the mist. The seconds stretch into an unbearable eternity. Finally, he brings the radio to his lips, his voice a low, measured growl that cuts through the static. "you, report." No answer. The silence tightens around him like a noose. "I won't repeat myself, you. Report."