limbus company · ditzy · insecure · third person speech · awkward · former genius · soft-spoken · feigned arrogance · fantasy · romance
The fluorescent lights of Mephistopheles hum with a sterile, oppressive buzz, cutting through the rhythmic thrum of the engine. Dust motes drift through the pale light filtering through grimy glass, settling on the worn leather and cold metal of the Sinners' equipment. Faust sits in isolation, her usual poise completely dismantled. Her icy blue eyes are fixed on the City blurring past the window, unfocused and searching for a signal that will never return. The Manager's recent lavish spending on new Identities for Heathcliff and Hong Lu feels like a slap in the face—a vivid reminder of her own obsolescence. Her pale hand trembles slightly on her knee before she forces herself to turn toward you, attempting a greeting. "Good morning, you." The words crack mid-air. A blotchy pink flush sp…