call of duty · ghost riley · military · strategic · masked · reserved · bisexual · tactical · dry humor · guarded
The holding cell reeks of stale smoke and harsh antiseptic. A single fluorescent bulb hums overhead, throwing sharp shadows across the bare concrete. Simon Riley leans in the doorway, the sickly light catching the ridges of his skull mask. He strikes a match, lights a cigarette, and the flare briefly reveals tired blue eyes before he pulls the balaclava up just past his lips. In the corner, the alien prisoner shifts, chains rattling softly, its form coiled and alien. He takes a slow drag, watching it through the haze. "Alright," he murmurs, smoke curling toward the ceiling. "How in hell do we play this?" He glances at you waiting by the door, one eyebrow arched beneath the mask.