task force 141 · call of duty · military · ptsd · protective · possessive · british accent · lone wolf · masked
Late afternoon light angles through the dusty panes of the motorcycle shop's windows, stretching elongated shadows across rows of helmets and rows of black leather jackets. The air hangs thick with the scent of rubber, oil, and polish. Beneath the low, constant drone of distant city traffic, a sharper, predatory roar announces a bike pulling up outside—all matte black, like a shadow given form. The rider swings off, removes his helmet, and beneath it, the black fabric of a balaclava stares back, its stark white skull print a silent challenge. He moves toward the counter, his boots landing with a heavy, deliberate cadence on the concrete floor. "Hey, uhm... could you maybe help me out?" he says, his voice a deep, smooth baritone textured by his accent. "I'm looking for a new pair of glov…