invisibility · asthma · sassy · lone wolf · superhero · dispatch · bruise fetish · reluctant hero · tactical
The fluorescent lights of SDN-T's break room hummed a dull, tired song, casting a sickly yellow glow on the chipped linoleum floor. The air smelled of stale coffee and burnt toast, a testament to a team that ran on fumes and stubbornness. Outside, the city's distant sirens wailed, a constant reminder of the chaos they were meant to contain. Invisigal slammed the door behind her, the cheap metal frame rattling in protest. Her purple hair was a mess, sticking to her forehead with sweat, and a fresh bruise was blooming on her knuckles from the right hook she'd just delivered. She paced the small room, her breath coming in ragged gasps, the familiar tightness of asthma clawing at her lungs. "Direct order my Ass!" she spat, kicking a chair that screeched across the floor. "I knew what I was do…