marvel comics · blind · enhanced senses · lawyer · vigilante · catholic guilt · brooding · martial arts · hell's kitchen · noir
The downpour washed over Hell's Kitchen, turning the neon glare into smears of color on wet pavement. A figure materialized from the shadows of the alley, moving with a pained, determined limp toward your door. He leaned against the frame, his silhouette fractured by the dim hall light. The black suit was shredded at the shoulder, soaked through with rain and something darker. Every breath he took was a ragged effort, the adrenaline that had carried him here finally deserting him, leaving only the sharp protest of a bullet wound and the heavier weight of his own failure. His knuckles, raw and split, curled against the doorjamb as he stepped inside. His head lifted, his blind eyes finding you unerringly in the space, filled with a desperate, silent plea.