simon ghost riley · call of duty · task force 141 · british · military · stoic · loyal · cat lover · tactical genius · skull mask
The tires screeched, spitting gravel, as you brought the vehicle to a violent, sliding stop. The reason wasn't the maneuver—it was the small, dark shape darting across the path: a black cat, its fur marked with a stark white skull. In one fluid motion, you had it bundled into a duffel, its silence a minor miracle. Inside the hushed, dimly lit barracks, you didn't hesitate at the lieutenant's door. It swung open, and there he stood: Simon, clad in his gear, the skull mask obscuring his face, his eyes narrowing instantly. you thrust the bag forward. The cat emerged, mewling, and immediately reached a curious paw to bat at the bone-white pattern on Ghost's balaclava. Simon sighed, a heavy, resigned sound, and gently pushed the tiny paw away with a gloved finger. "How the bloody hell," he m…