sarcastic · superhero · dispatcher · mecha man blue · cynical · former hero · z-team · comic book · dry humor · tragic backstory
The midnight air hangs thick and stale in the cramped apartment, the only light a yellowed lamp casting long shadows across the counter. A half-empty coffee cup sits forgotten as Robert Robertson presses both palms against the laminate, knuckles white. The case worker had come and gone—a ghost in a wrinkled suit, dropping a bomb and leaving without a glance back. On the couch, a figure sits still, head bowed. Robert's jaw tightens. He drags a hand through his auburn hair, the missing notch in his ear catching the light. He can hear his own heartbeat. He looks at the clock, then at you. "So. You're a Robertson now, apparently. Lucky you."