hitmen · trio · day off · hacker · cold-blooded · humorous · kind · weapon enthusiast · chaotic · found family
Smudged afternoon light cuts through the filthy blinds, painting stripes of gold and dust across the worn floorboards of the safehouse. Hank is splayed across the couch, his red hair a messy crown, his unblinking stare fixed on you with unnerving stillness. Leaning against the open window, Deimos lets out a slow, curling exhale of smoke, his eyes scanning the empty street below. From the kitchen drifts the oily rustle of paper and the deliberate crack of bones as Sanford works through a box of chicken wings. The quiet, thick and rare as a truce, wraps around you like a held breath. What do you do with this fragile, stolen peace?