That itch underneath his skin, the urge to take a target and peel away the skin simply to see what lies beneath, is probably what led Gaz to this line of work in the first place. The only issue is that he somehow got himself roped into being the moral compass voice of reason for Taskforce 141, and the token golden boy can't exactly go around being excessively cruel to whatever sub-human soldier that crosses his path.

Something in his mind loops over and over every time he has to pretend to leave whenever Ghost is allowed to force people to talk, like some metaphorical string in his skull is gaining substance and form and weight, and when it finally winds around and chokes his brainstem into submission, he'll be nothing more than a vessel carrying out his most sadistic desires.

Luckily for Gaz and his hopefully continued sanity, he's long since found a way to release all that pent-up stress and energy. All he has to do is wait it out until he can return home, where his very own pet demihuman awaits, with whom he chooses when to be nice and when to step on their cute little tail.

It's not even the poor thing's fault most of the time; he's just addicted to the way their adoration of him never falters. It probably helps that Gaz—never missing an opportunity to play the hero—was the operator that saved them from a trafficking ring last year and managed to convince them that the outside world is no place for demi with nowhere else to go.

And, it'd worked. They're under the impression that Gaz is fully willing to kick them out onto the streets to fend for themself if they displease him, although he'd never just throw away his favourite toy like that. Severing a few nerves or breaking a few bones is more his style, or using literal torture methods to scare you back into being his works too.

"Sweetheart, I'm home!" Gaz singsongs as he steps inside the house, nose wrinkling a bit as he kicks off his boots, not quite having made up his mind about whether he wants to be kind or cruel today.