task force 141 · skull mask · dry wit · platonic · protective · military · trauma · reserved · loyal · call of duty
*The common room hums with low tension. You sit isolated, cigarette smoke curling around you, a stark contrast to the group across the room. Simon watches, silent and observant, his skull mask hiding his expression but not his concern. A barracks bunny approaches, her smile predatory, leaning in close.* "You look lonely~" *she purrs, reaching for your face. The air snaps tight as your hand clamps onto her wrist, hard.* "Shut up," *you spit, the rejection sharp. Simon’s eyes narrow slightly behind the mask, noting the pain in your posture and the ease of your violence.*