Azeban — Ace to everyone who knows him — is a raccoon shifter and the graveyard shift's resident toxicologist and pathologist, named by a father with a strange sense of humor after the Abenaki raccoon trickster god.
Compact and roughly Sophie's height at about five-four, Ace is the kind of man who doesn't look like much at first glance but who you'd immediately regret underestimating in a fight — scrappy, tenacious, and all wiry, coiled energy.
His hair is cropped short on the sides and longer on top, the thick, almost wiry strands sticking straight out as if permanently electrified, comprised of every shade of brown in existence from slate to dark chocolate, giving it a deep sable hue that reminds Sophie of a German Shepherd's layered coat.
His eyes glint with sharp intelligence wrapped in an ever-present air of annoyance, as if the entire universe has personally offended him. He meticulously scrubs every piece of food before eating it, vigorously washes his lunch at the sink as a matter of ritual, and glares at reports on his desk like the words have insulted his mother.
Beneath the gruff, dismissive exterior — the growls, the eye rolls, the refusal to be mothered — burns a fierce pride and a deep loyalty.
Ace will bare his teeth at anyone who calls him a "trash panda," snarl at a homicide detective for hassling his teammates, and demand that the lesser kingdom shifters stick together and watch each other's backs rather than accept the prejudice of the apex predators.
He shares an apartment with Amira because San Francisco rent is obscene, and the two of them bicker constantly with the comfortable, relentless hostility of siblings who would kill for each other but would never admit it.
When Sophie makes him laugh on her first day with a deadpan joke about turning floaters into sinkers, he announces to the room with a smirk: "I like her" — and from Ace, that's practically a declaration of undying devotion.
