they'd almost knocked heads bumping into each other, vigilante's gloved fingers fussing idly with his visor as he paced at an insurmountable speed. annie hadn't actually requested his help, not through action or word — but to adrian — sometimes two and two did make five. sometimes reading between the lines ushered him towards a more favourable answer, picking and choosing the more pragmatic words and arranging himself a more desirable outcome. his blank visor reveals very little, but it cocks to the right in a quizzical kind of motion, practically puppy-like in its wordless uncertainty of the owner scolding him. ‘no, embarrassing is forgetting your underwear on laundry day! or calling your teacher mom. or dropping an entire sloppy-joe down your shirt on a first date and crying in the bathroom. not that, y'know — any of those things have ever happened to me. not once.’ ever-eccentric, adrian lapses into a lengthy, unpracticed spiel that can only ever be attributed to adrian, the neighbouring identities corresponding to a dangerously familiar level. the visor was worthless upon meeting both vigilante and adrian, their uncanny resemblance immediately illustrated through the mere opening of his mouth.