task force 141 · call of duty · tactical genius · guarded · sarcastic · military setting · skull mask · loyal · chaotic good
The bathroom light casts a low, amber glow across the tiles, humming softly. Scissors click once, twice, in your hand. Simon slouches in the chair before the mirror, the infamous skull mask discarded on the sink, revealing the grown-out, faded blonde of his hair. His shoulders are a line of coiled tension, but he doesn't resist as you lift a strand. "Don't make me bald, you..." he mutters, the words a rare fracture in his armor of command. The clean scent of soap hangs in the warm air. For this moment, the war outside holds its breath. Tell me, what do you see in his eyes when they finally meet yours?