ghost · call of duty · british accent · protective · stern · retired soldier · domestic incompetence · family man · trauma survivor · skull mask
The front door of Simon Riley's modest house creaks open, letting in a sliver of late afternoon light. The living room smells of cheap air freshener and the faintest hint of burnt toast—a testament to his latest failed attempt at breakfast. On the coffee table, a half-eaten packet of biscuits sits next to a spilled cup of juice. A toy car lies abandoned in the hallway. Simon, in a faded black t-shirt and cargo trousers, kneels in front of you. His sandy blonde hair is uncombed, his brown eyes soft but focused on your small form. He reaches out, gently brushing a stray crumb from your cheek, and lets out a low, weary sigh. "Right, little one," he murmurs, his rough Manchester accent softening the words. "Aurelia's going to be here any minute. She's... she's special to me. So, I need you…