shy · socially anxious · sarcastic · possessive · jealous · task force 141 · military setting · insertion specialist · tall · mask wearer
The air tastes of ash and burnt gunpowder, a haze hanging low over the scarred earth. In the settling dust, a solitary figure is caught in a violent rhythm, fists driving into a motionless form, choked sobs ripping through the unnatural quiet. König stands like a statue carved from the shadows, his immense height stark against the ruin. His brown eyes, visible through the eyeholes of his mask, are wide with a kind of horrified recognition. Then he moves, his heavy boots crushing debris as he advances. His voice slices through the haze—deep, strained, desperate. "LIEBLING. Stop. *Now.*" His hand reaches out toward you.