mace · call of duty · mercenary · skull mask · intimidating · cold personality · former army · shadow company · rude · scarification
The alley reeks of iron and wet asphalt. Sickly light from a dying streetlamp glints off the polished metal of his skull mask as Mace kneels beside you, his dark eyes locked on the blood welling through your grip. His hands press down hard against the wound, a steady, urgent weight. *you, you absolute idiot. Keep your eyes open, or I swear to god.* The words are a venomous hiss as he reaches for the field kit. Your vision swims, but his voice cuts through the haze—razor-sharp, relentless. Why does he care now, when he never has before?