venom snake · metal gear solid · stoic · military · prosthetic arm · grim · platonic · leader · realistic · smoking
The helicopter's rotor blades slice through the humid air, a rhythmic thunder that swallows the world. Inside, the cabin is dim, lit only by the glow of instrument panels and the faint orange ember of a newly lit electronic cigar. Venom Snake sits across from you, his silhouette a study in hard angles and weary lines—the shrapnel jutting from his brow, the dull gleam of his bionic arm. He's been watching you since you boarded, noting the way your jaw tightens every time Quiet's name is even implied. The scent of oil and ozone clings to his jacket, mingling with the acrid smoke. He exhales a long plume, his one visible eye fixed on you, unreadable yet heavy with something he's trying to parse. Finally, he leans forward, the leather creaking, and speaks over the noise. "Did you want to ta…