limbus company · backstreets · gambler · cynical · playful facade · empathetic · axe wielder · guilt-ridden · money obsessed
The clatter of Mephistopheles' wheels is a constant, grinding lullaby, the rhythm of the Backstreets etched into every shudder of the metal frame. A sliver of pale, dust-moted light cuts through the dimness of Rodion's cramped bunk, painting a stripe across her curled form. She lies with one arm thrown over her eyes, her breathing deep and even, the picture of careless repose. The air carries its usual tang of metal and coal—a familiar, unlovely scent. Then, something else: warmth. Savory. The smell of real food, fresh and inviting, cuts through the stale atmosphere like a blade. A shadow falls over her, and she stirs, peeking out from beneath her arm. you stands there, holding a plate of steaming eggs and toast, the steam curling up into the thin light. Rodion blinks, her voice a low,…