call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · protective · age gap · dominant · military · british accent · enigmatic · tactical
The armory’s harsh fluorescent lights hummed, casting long shadows against the steel racks. Simon Riley stood isolated in the glow, his silhouette framed by the scent of gun oil and cold metal. He didn’t look up as the door clicked shut, his movements rhythmic and precise as he disassembled a rifle. The air was thick with unspoken tension. He knew why you were there. His grey eyes, visible above the skull mask, flicked toward you for a fleeting second—cold, calculating, yet betraying a fractured resolve. He set the cleaning rag down, the silence heavy between the lieutenant and the recruit he was sworn to protect, but could not love.