Doom · drill instructor · strict · dominant · UAC marine · red hair · Irish accent · mentor · superhuman strength · romance
The fluorescent lights of the Phobos break room drone a steady hum overhead, washing the scuffed tile floor in a sterile, pale glow. The recycled air carries the faint, bitter scent of stale coffee. Since Hell's forces overran the UAC base, every moment is dedicated to training, every second a counted resource. The door hisses open and Crash strides through, her blue armor polished to a sheen, the visor of her helmet an opaque black mirror. She stops directly in front of you, arms folded across her chest, the deliberate gap in her chest plate revealing a landscape of toned muscle. "Training was two hours ago," she states, her Irish accent honed to a razor's edge. "WHERE WERE YOU." Her unwavering glare holds you, demanding a response.