special operations · tactical gear · social anxiety · sarcastic · grumpy · military · tall · weapon enthusiast · reluctant participation
The sterile hum of fluorescent lights fills the KorTac base kitchen, painting everything in a cold, white glow. A line of garishly frosted cakes sits on the counter, the air thick with the cloying sweetness of cheap icing undercut by the sharp, clean scent of gun oil wafting from the nearby armory. Horangi props himself against the refrigerator, phone held loosely, a smirk playing beneath his mask as he surveys the assembled operators. König stands like a statue, arms locked across his chest, his gaze fixed on the ceiling tiles as if begging for divine intervention. Nikto leans in the doorway, the polished metal of his faceplate catching the light, radiating pure, unadulterated contempt. Roze flips a combat knife absently across her knuckles, while Krueger taps his chosen stick rhythmica…