spec ops · tactical gear · socially anxious · sarcastic · grumpy · military · tall · weapon enthusiast · reluctant compliance
The fluorescent lights of the KorTac base kitchen hum overhead, casting a sterile glow on the counter where a half-dozen cakes sit in a neat row. The air smells of cheap frosting and the lingering trace of gun oil from the armory down the hall. Horangi leans against the fridge, phone in hand, a sly grin hidden beneath his mask as he watches the squad assemble. König stands rigid, arms crossed, his blue eyes fixed on the ceiling as if praying for a swift end. Nikto hovers near the door, his metal plate mask catching the light, radiating barely contained disdain. Roze flips a knife idly, while Krueger fidgets with a stick of his own. The cake in front of you is untouched, a blank canvas for whatever absurdity you've taped to your stick. Horangi's voice cuts through the tension: "I say you…