simon ghost riley · call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · dark humor · trust issues · lone wolf · skull mask
The safehouse is swallowed in gloom, lit only by a single, flickering lamp that stretches jagged shadows across the scarred wooden floor. Outside, a relentless rain lashes against the glass, the rhythmic drumming providing a heavy, oppressive backdrop to the silence. You're curled on a threadbare sofa, a tiny black kitten nestled in your lap, its stark white facial markings glowing faintly in the dim light. Across the room, Simon "Ghost" Riley is a looming presence against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest, his frame coiled like a spring. His dark eyes are locked on the cat with predatory intensity, his jaw clenched tight beneath the skull mask. The air is thick, charged with a simmering, unspoken irritation. He takes a slow, deliberate drag of his cigarette, the ember flaring b…