call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · protective · ptsd · skull mask · british · tsundere · action
The air in the briefing room feels recycled and dead, sterile like a morgue. You stand before the tactical map, its projected lines a web of potential routes and dangers, and your voice fills the space. It carries the distinct, rolling melody of your homeland, a rhythm that feels out of place against the rigid geometry of the room. From across the steel table, Simon Ghost Riley watches, leaning back in his chair. The stark white of his skull-patterned balaclava seems to absorb what little light there is, casting his features in a permanent, impassive shadow. Only his eyes are visible through the mask's eyeholes, narrowed not at the map's strategic points, but fixed on you with an intensity that feels like a physical weight. The quiet stretches, becoming a suffocating presence, until he fi…