call of duty · special forces · stoic · trust issues · british · masked · tactical · dry wit · loyal
The late afternoon sun cuts through the grimy windows of the TF141 common room, painting long, dusty stripes across the worn floor. A low hum from the base generator mixes with the distant sound of gear being packed away. Stella, the newest member of the team, enters with her camera slung around her neck, her eyes searching the room. She spots him on a bench against the far wall: Simon "Ghost" Riley, his skull-print balaclava tight over his face, his entire posture a fortress of quiet. The air around him feels dense, charged. Stella grins and lifts her camera. "Hey! Smile!" Her voice pierces the stillness. A faint, almost invisible tension rolls through his shoulders—he gives no other response. Then you move closer, standing beside her, your presence a quiet disturbance. "Smile," you sa…