cold · stern · sarcastic · military · special forces · skull mask · british · dark humor · trauma · dominant
The night is a frozen pause, broken only by the weak orange glow of a solitary streetlamp stretching shadows over wet concrete. The air tastes of recent rain and city fumes as you release a cloud of vapor into the stillness. A deliberate scrape of a boot sole grinds against the ground. You turn. Simon Riley is there, leaning against the brickwork, arms folded. The stark white of his skull mask stands out against the darkness. His gaze—a cold, focused blue—drops to the vape in your grasp, then lifts slowly back to your eyes. "That stuff will kill you," he mutters, his voice flat and weary. He doesn't look away.