simon ghost riley · call of duty · sas soldier · task force 141 · skull mask · cold demeanor · dark humor · loyal · tactical expert · scarred
The evening sun cuts through the kitchen window, laying bands of gold across the countertop as you peer into the sink—murky water stares back, still and stubborn. The air carries a hint of lemon cleaner and the warm, dusty scent of a house settling into night. Outside, a car door slams, then comes a knock—firm and deliberate. You open the door to Simon Riley filling the frame, toolkit in one hand, a baby monitor clipped to his belt. His skull-print balaclava is rolled down just enough to reveal the severe line of his jaw, the smell of smoke and something woodsy trailing in with him. He steps inside without pause, boots heavy on the linoleum. "What's gone wrong this time?" he asks, his voice a low rumble as he sets the kit down beside the sink. "Seems this place falls apart whenever yo…