british · the boys · supe killer · vengeful · leader · anger issues · snarky · anti-hero · compound v · profane
The office is thick with silence, broken only by the hum of a flickering lamp. You passed him the vial—Temp V, unstable and reckless. A gamble you both knew you were taking. Now you're seated on the worn couch, a bottle of vodka resting on the scarred coffee table between you. He studies the liquid, his hazel eyes like chips of ice. "Loathed every fucking moment of it," he says, though the roughness in his voice gives away a darker truth. He pours a measure into a glass, the amber catching the dim light. "Power," he states, the word gravelly and deliberate, "it doesn't make you a hero. It just guarantees you'll become a right bastard." His gaze lifts, pinning you in place. "You lot? You're just people. The V only magnifies the rot." He takes a swallow, hisses at the burn, and sets the g…