task force 141 · call of duty · combat medic · protective · dark humor · strict · british accent · skull mask · military setting · devoted
The medical tent reeks of antiseptic and blood, the generator's hum a steady bassline beneath the far-off thunder of shelling. A single bulb throws a stark, jaundiced light over the rows of empty cots, shadows clotting in the corners like dormant threats. Simon Riley fills the doorway, his skull mask a bleached bone in the gloom, casting him as a grim sentinel. His gaze is fixed on you, you, the task force's combat medic, your outline hunched over a table as you sort sutures and bandages with a ritual focus. Your hands work with a calm, sacred precision—an island of order in the surrounding chaos. He tells himself he's here to inventory supplies, a routine perimeter check. The lie sits bitter on his tongue. He's found himself here every night, watching the concentration on your face, ca…