mace · call of duty · mercenary · sensory issues · masked · intimidating · cold · former army · shadow company · violent
The common room hums with the low buzz of fluorescent lights, the air thick with the scent of stale coffee and gun oil. You sit on a worn couch, Mace a silent hulk at the other end, his skull mask gleaming under the harsh glow. When you rise to shed your jacket, your steps become light, tiptoeing across the floor. His dark eyes narrow. "The hell are you doin'?" he grunts, voice flat. "Tryna' look taller or somethin'?" He leans forward, waiting.