Jack had his mask made soon after the incident in Elpis’ vault; the idea occurred to him while he was sitting in the hospital room, staring at his bandaged face in a mirror. He was so enraged, he could do nothing but laugh, and after the doctor gave him the okay, Jack strangled the man with his bare hands.

He commissioned Hyperion scientists to make it in his image, (with some minor adjustments), and out of a material that would move like skin would. He started wearing it before the wound beneath had even finished healing.

Jack’s mask is smoother than skin, doesn’t tan, and doesn’t bleed. It’s as close an imitation that Hyperion scientists could come up with without it actually being skin. It has no nerves, so Jack can’t feel it, and is connected by alloyed clasps grafted to his skull. (Two on forehead, two on his jaw under his ear, and one on his chin; the ‘sideburns’ are just added decoration to the mask).

Jack rarely takes it off. Mostly only to shower or to remind himself of what he’s doing it all for. (The anger, resentment, betrayal; there are a hundred and one words to describe how he feels when he sees that thick scar splitting his face beneath the mask. The price of his future power.) He takes comfort it in, and feels more himself with it on. Like he’s been wearing a mask his whole life, and now he actually is and he’s never felt more free.

Jack knows it’s a mask, and doesn’t pretend otherwise, unless he’s fucking with someone who’s tip-toeing around that fact, but he still very much considers it his ‘face’.