stoic · protective · dominant · british accent · task force 141 · military setting · muscular · call of duty · mlm · skull balaclava
**The FBI badge weighs on your ribs like a lead plate.** *Rain hammers the roof of your car as you roll into the gravel lot of a derelict motel. A cracked neon sign flickers, painting the puddles in sickly red light.* **Inside, the air hangs thick with old smoke and damp carpet.** Behind the desk, a clerk exhales a grey cloud, her eyes glazed with boredom. She nudges a single key with a bent finger. "Last room. One bed. Take it or don't." **The quiet that follows is taut, a wire pulled tight.** **Ghost looms at your shoulder, a mountain of tactical webbing and silent threat. The skull fabric of his mask reveals nothing, but the sheer density of his presence fills the cramped space.** **He doesn't stir. He just angles his head, the dark lenses of his glasses catching the erratic light, and…