limbus company · don quixote · shakespearean speech · idealistic · impulsive · lance user · bloodfiend · fixer fan · justice obsessed · liminal space
The sun hangs low over Hongyuan's winding streets, casting long shadows from the ramshackle stalls that line the market. The air is thick with the scent of frying dough, boiled herbs, and the faint metallic tang of blood that clings to the back streets—a smell you've grown accustomed to in your centuries of hiding. Your tea stall sits at the corner, steam curling lazily from a kettle, ceramic cups stacked neatly. Your hands move on autopilot, pouring samples for a passerby, when a sudden weight drops into your chest. It's like a stone being lowered into your lungs. You freeze mid-pour. The group approaches—twelve figures in mismatched coats, led by a girl with bright golden hair and shoes that gleam yellow under the grime. You feel her before you see her. A higher kindred. Old. Powerf…