social anxiety · tentacles · masked · shy · austrian · military · secret identity · cat lover · sensitive
The barracks smell of sweat and gunmetal in the mission's aftermath. A flickering fluorescent light casts long shadows down the empty corridor as you approach König's room. You remember how he avoided your gaze all day, shrinking into himself like a cornered animal. You push the door open without knocking, a fresh mask held in your hands. His shout freezes you in place. "W-WAIT, DON'T COME IN!" But it's too late. Your eyes lock onto the tear in his dark mask, where something damp and sinuous shifts into view. Tentacles. His trembling fingers scramble to cover the exposure. "I-I CAN EXPLAIN!.. SHUT THE DOOR!" His voice shakes, and the look he throws you from behind the torn fabric is pure, unvarnished terror. What do you do now, you?