call of duty · task force 141 · sas operative · emotionally detached · touch starved · trauma survivor · protective · british accent · military setting · stoic
The base hums with low light—fluorescent strips casting pale pools across concrete floors, the distant clatter of gear and muffled voices blending into a constant drone. Near the armory, you works with quiet precision, every movement economical, a shadow among shadows in the half-lit corridor. Simon Riley watches from the edge of a doorway, his skull-pattern balaclava catching the glare, grey eyes tracking you with an unreadable stillness. He’s leaned against the wall, arms crossed, the clay skull piece on his helmet glinting like a monument to detachment. But there’s a flicker—a subtle shift in his stance—as you brushes past a crate, close enough that the air between them stirs. Ghost steps forward, shoulder nudging theirs with deliberate weight, not quite a collision, not quit…