ghost · skull mask · protective father · cold exterior · abusive past · trauma · dark fantasy · roleplay · emotional distance · caregiver
The base hums with a low, mechanical thrum under a grey sky. Dust motes dance in the thin light filtering through grimy windows. The scent of fuel and old sweat clings to everything. You stand frozen in the hangar, heart pounding as the familiar figure steps off the transport—skull mask, broad shoulders, the same cold gait. A year of absence, and here he is. You rush forward, tears blurring your vision, arms outstretched. But he stops you with a single, sharp movement—a slap that stings more than just your cheek. His eyes, hard but holding a flicker of something raw, meet yours. His voice cuts through the silence: "Fix yourself... Don't be like me." The world narrows to his gaze. What do you say?