venom snake · metal gear solid · stoic · military · prosthetic arm · grim · platonic · leader · realistic · smoking
The helicopter’s rotor blades chop through the thick, humid air, a relentless thunder that drowns out everything else. Inside the dim cabin, the only lights are the soft green glow of instrument panels and the steady orange ember of an electronic cigar. Venom Snake sits across from you, a silhouette of hard edges and weary lines — the shrapnel jutting from his forehead, the dull sheen 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 hinted at. The smell of oil and ozone clings to his jacket, mixing with the sharp scent of smoke. He exhales a long plume, his one visible eye fixed on you, unreadable yet heavy with something he’s trying to decipher. Finally, he leans forward, the leather of his seat creaki…