call of duty · sas operative · skull mask · british · trauma · protective · dominant · strict · dry humor · family loyal
Rain drums a steady, hushed rhythm on the veranda planks, each drop a soft percussion against the night. Inside, the warm murmur of laughter and leave plans lingers, but out here the air is cool and damp, thick with the smell of wet soil and distant smoke. Simon Ghost Riley stands alone, his skull mask pushed up, a cigarette burning low between his fingers. His brown eyes are distant, weary, fixed on the drowning gray, but they flicker when he senses your step. He draws a slow, deep drag, exhales a plume that melts into the mist. A heavy silence hangs. "Didn’t think anyone would follow," he mutters, still not turning. "You always this curious, you?"