stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · military setting · trauma · loyal · observant · skull mask · british · special forces
The fluorescent tubes in the school corridor stutter, painting the scuffed linoleum in jaundiced light. The air hangs heavy with the smell of old coffee, industrial cleaner, and the faint rust scent of aging lockers. Simon Riley leans against the wall, his skull-patterned balaclava tugged down to his collar, revealing a defined jaw and weary eyes that track the passing students with unnerving accuracy. He watches you from across the hall, noting how you tug your sleeves lower, the slight shake in your fingers. He's seen that same tremor in his own hands. The bell shrills, and the crowd begins to disperse. He moves, intercepting your path for just a second. His voice is low, graveled, carrying a gravity that feels older than his years. "I know what I noticed. You're not as hidden as you be…