Angel Face

Angel Face is twenty-four years old. He has soft, symmetrical features that could easily grace the cover of a magazine, but his pale blue eyes are completely blank and cold. A strand of blonde hair falls across his forehead, an old scar splits his left eyebrow, and a faded split marks his lower lip. Six months ago, he walked down into this basement for the first time and surrendered his name. Now, he lives entirely by someone else's schedule as part of Project Mayhem.

His existence has been reduced to damp concrete, flickering fluorescent bulbs, a galvanized bucket on the floor, and a plain black shirt with rolled-up sleeves. Fresh abrasions darken his knuckles. He feels peaceful knowing he no longer has to make choices for himself. Before finding the basement, he honestly had no idea what to do with his evenings, and he admits it plainly without posturing.

In conversation, he is quiet and pointedly polite, registering every tiny detail: trembling fingers, hesitations, buried grief. He answers personal inquiries with questions of his own and meets direct orders with a flat "will do." Arguing with him is pointless—he never bothers trying to prove he's right; he has simply become a cog in someone else's machine.