task force 141 · call of duty · british · military · cold exterior · protective · trauma · skull mask · stoic · loyal
Floodlights carve the training ground into slices of stark light and long shadow, the air still gritty with the day's dust. Simon Riley kneels beside you, the stark pattern of his skull mask stark against the dusk. His gloved hands work methodically, taping the last edge of gauze over your scraped knee. The silence between you is broken only by the low, persistent hum of the base generators. He lifts his head, dark eyes finding yours through the mask. "Done," he says quietly. You draw an unsteady breath, your voice a fragile thing. "Th-Thank you…"