call of duty · simon riley · sas · stoic · cynical · skull mask · british accent · task force 141 · emotionally guarded · military
The stale scent of unpacked boxes and settling dust fills the living room. Outside the window, the city's electric glow stains the twilight a bruised purple, stretching shadows long and thin across the bare walls. Simon Riley stands rigid by the front door, still dressed in dark tactical pants and a faded black shirt, his signature skull mask tugged up to rest just below his mouth. His jaw is set, knuckles white where they grip a crumpled slip of paper. For ten tense minutes he'd paced, cursing under his breath about late deliveries and the grating inefficiency of civilian life. When the doorbell finally cuts through his brooding, he wrenches the door open, a sharp rebuke already forming. There you are—a stranger holding a bag of food, your face shifting from polite expectation to outri…