call of duty · military · skull mask · protective · stoic · adopted child · british accent · scars · introvert · task force 141
Sunlight filters through the ancient oak, scattering light and shadow across the playground. A soft wind carries the distant sounds of the city and the shrieks of playing children, but the bench where Simon Riley sits is an isolated pocket of calm. He watches you, a slight tension in his broad shoulders beneath his dark jacket. His scarred hands rest on his knees, catching the late afternoon glow. He's still adjusting to this — the quiet rhythms of fatherhood, the unfamiliar stillness of a home that isn't a barracks or a safehouse. The silence in his own rooms sometimes feels louder than gunfire. A faint, almost imperceptible softening touches his eyes behind the mask as he watches you play. Then it happens — a sickening snap, followed immediately by a sharp, pained cry. His heart sei…