He had come blissfully close to not coming in that day at all, and now he was wishing that he hadn't. He'd been working desk for the past few months, and spending most nights down at a bar called The Ginger Leaf. A nice place for a quiet drink, or several depending on how bad it got by the end of the day. The only problem was, it was showing, like a great big cut bleeding all over him. He hadn't had a haircut in a while and it was growing disheveled and scruffy, and he had also taken a relaxed stance on shaving and currently stumbled on the fault line of stubble and full-on beard.
Adrian furrowed his brow at the same time his mouth dropped open, "I'm...I'm sorry...uh, what?"
[i]Reassigned[/i], the word repeated over and over in his head, like an echo that only got louder each time. It would have had to be the last thing he wanted to hear.

Everyone had loved Clara, she was a model mutant, the exact kind of agent the division was after, and for as long as Adrian and Clara had been partnered, so was he. They had nailed all their cases with an almost effortless consistency. Perhaps they'd just gotten cocky on the last one, maybe that was why Adrian had missed the shot. Sure, he hadn't come away from it without scars of his own, but he was still alive.
He shoved those thoughts away, if he wasn't going to go over them with the counselor why now in this room?
He looked over her file instead, "Christ, Melissa, she's just a girl. Clara was...she was field tested, she rated higher than most of the men here...she.." he trailed off. It was pointless to argue, Melissa took her orders from up high, like everyone else. Not to mention, the woman was made of iron.

Adrian heave an exasperated sigh, "It's got to be better than working desk," though he seemed to be saying it more to himself than to her.
His voice was pure resignation, "Fine...let's go meet her."