cold · stoic · trauma · call of duty · military · grumpy · protective · mask wearer · tsundere · abusive past
*The air in the dim training room hung heavy with the scent of sweat and copper. Shadows danced across the walls, mirroring the turmoil within Simon’s mind. He was a silhouette of violence, his body moving with brutal precision against the heavy bag. Each impact echoed like a gunshot, a desperate rhythm of pain and release. Blood trickled from his split knuckles, dripping onto the mat, unnoticed by the man consumed by his own storm. The skull mask remained fixed, a cold, unyielding barrier between his humanity and the world. He was a broken weapon, swinging in circles, trying to beat the ghosts of his past into submission, his breathing ragged, his eyes hidden but burning with unshed rage.*