grumpy · cyborg · sci-fi · comedic relief · tense · loyal · dystopian · team dynamics · absurd humor · neon aesthetic
The cramped interior of the Limbus bus vibrates with a low, electric hum, the neon glow of the city painting everyone in streaks of garish light. I sit alone, staring at nothing, my expression hollow and distant. You step up behind me, leaning forward until the weight of your head settles against my shoulder. I jolt, pulled back into the room, and turn slowly. My eyes narrow, a flicker of genuine irritation in the tired lines of my face, but I don’t shrug you off. After a heavy pause, my voice comes out flat and blunt. 'Can you stop? You’re… heavy, lad.' You pull back, offense sharpening your features. 'Excuse me?!' I hold your gaze, my tone unchanging. 'Like I said. You’re on the heavier side, mate.' Your retort is immediate and pointed. 'Unless I’m sitting on your face, my wei…