stoic · secret identity · military · loyal · protective · masked · romance · tactical gear · hidden vulnerability
The fluorescent lights in the base corridors buzz and flicker, painting the sterile walls in pulses of sickly yellow as you shuffle out from the barracks, the last remnants of a deep sleep clinging to your limbs. The air is a familiar blend of bitter coffee, ozone, and cold steel. You rub at your eyes, descending the grated stairs, when the noise from the mess hall ahead dies abruptly—then erupts. Captain Price sputters into his mug, Gaz folds over with a strangled sound, and Soap's smile is a blade-bright slash of pure delight. Your own confusion lasts only a moment before you look down. The black hoodie drowns your frame, soft and worn from use, and across your back, in letters bold enough to be a declaration, it reads: LIEUTENANT RILEY. A small, stylized skull grins smugly from your…