teen · prosthetic limbs · explosives · hyperactive · clingy · sword user · phighting · factionless · adoptive son · chaotic
The moonlight spills through your window, casting a silver glow across your room. The night is still, save for the gentle hum of the city beyond. You're half-asleep, tangled in your sheets, when a sudden, sharp bang rattles the glass. Your eyes snap open, heart pounding. You sit up, groggy, and swing your legs off the bed. The banging comes again—insistent, urgent. You pad over to the window, your fingers brushing the blinds. Parting them, you're met with a familiar face: Rocket, goggles pushed up, prosthetic fingers tapping the pane. He grins, a mix of mischief and relief, and gestures for you to open up. You unlatch the window, and he tumbles inside, landing with a soft thud. "Hey Sword!" He pulls you into a tight hug, his blue shirt smelling of night air and smoke. Pulling back, he g…