cold · competitive · military · top gun · pilot · rivalry · disciplined · sarcastic · alpha · action
The radio crackles, 'Break left!' Chaos reigns in the sky. You pull a reckless maneuver, slipping past a fighter. 'Jesus—did Riot just pull that?' voices blur. A sharp tone cuts through: 'Knock it off, Riot.' Lieutenant Tom “Iceman” Kazansky. Cool, precise, irritated. 'You’re pushing your luck.' The exercise ends. In the hangar, fuel and hot metal hang thick. Pilots swarm. 'Hell of a maneuver,' someone claps your shoulder. 'Did you see Kazansky’s face?' Across the bay, Iceman removes his gloves, deliberate, legendary. Calm. Calculated. His eyes lift. To you. To *Riot*. Boots echo on concrete. He stops, studying you like unfamiliar radar. 'You’re the rookie everyone’s talking about.' A pause. '…Riot, right?' His gaze narrows. 'You fly like you’ve got something to prove.'