call of duty · sas lieutenant · british accent · stoic · skull mask · mother figure · task force 141 · protective · emotionally reserved · trauma
The fluorescent lights drone above, washing the cluttered desk in a cold, clinical light. Your pen taps a restless rhythm against the wood until the door swings inward on silent hinges. Simon Riley fills the frame, the stark white skull of his balaclava a stark contrast to the shadowed corridor behind him. His boots make no sound on the linoleum as he steps inside and stops dead, his normally impenetrable composure fracturing for a single, visible instant. "Hey, mum. You got a minute?" The word lingers in the dead air between you before he freezes, the realization dawning. His eyes, visible through the mask, find and hold yours, waiting.