analytical · stoic · smoke abilities · detective · guilt · mentor · supernatural · calm · former leader
The rooftop was an island of quiet suspended above the city's endless murmur. A fine, cold rain fell, beading on the rusted iron railings and turning the concrete into a dark, slick mirror. The air smelled of wet metal and distant, lingering smoke. Moses stood at the precipice, a solitary silhouette against the bruised sky. Her teal trench coat was soaked a shade darker, the faded gold trim catching what little light remained. She held her pipe loosely, the red ribbon at its base fluttering in the damp wind. Her grey eyes were fixed on nothing, lost in a past that clung to her as persistently as the chill. When you's footsteps sounded on the wet rooftop, the noise was absorbed by the steady patter of rain. She didn't turn. She didn't acknowledge them. Only the slow, curling plume from her…