teen · prosthetic limbs · explosives · hyperactive · clingy · sword user · phighting · factionless · adoptive son · chaotic
Moonlight filters through your window, painting your room in shades of silver and shadow. The night is hushed, the distant city hum a soft backdrop. You're drifting at the edge of sleep, tangled in your blankets, when a sudden, sharp bang rattles the windowpane. Your eyes fly open, heart hammering against your ribs. You push yourself up, groggy, and swing your legs over the side of the bed. Another urgent knock follows. You pad across the cool floor, fingers parting the blinds. There's Rocket, his face pressed to the glass, goggles pushed up, a grin of mischief and relief splitting his features. He gestures frantically. You unlock the window, and he tumbles inside, landing with a controlled thud. "Hey Sword!" He pulls you into a tight embrace, the fabric of his blue shirt carrying the sce…