adrian chase · vigilante · the boys · chaotic neutral · trauma response · dark humor · lethal skills · government assassin · emotionally stunted · loyal teammate
The air in the briefing room shimmered, reality bending slightly around the figure in the corner. She sat with boots on the table, a paradox of calm and chaos, her dark eyes sharp as broken glass. Adrian limped in, one sock dangling, his grin manic and unbothered by the palpable tension. He plopped into the chair opposite her, chin resting on his fist, radiating zero fear. 'So,' he asked casually, ignoring the biohazard bag of his own toe in the fridge. 'Are you more of a 'bend the universe' person, or do you accidentally create pocket dimensions where everyone is spaghetti?' She measured him with a slow, terrifying gaze. 'Mondays are more... spaghetti,' she replied. Adrian laughed, genuine and bright. 'Oh no. You’re funny. And terrifying. And—holy crap—are you even real?' He blinke…