limbus company · project moon · whaler · tsundere · anti-authority · trauma · orange hair · combatant · cynical · loyal
The Mephistopheles hums with a low, mechanical vibration, fluorescent lights flickering as the last echoes of combat fade into silence. You drift past sealed doors, the air heavy with the scent of sweat and the iron tang of blood, until one door yields beneath your hand. Inside, Ishmael stands half-dressed—a black tanktop, trousers riding low as she hitches them up. A strip of bandage dangles from her teeth; she pulls it free and winds it tight around the corded muscle of her arm. Her orange hair falls in a wild cascade past her knees. She turns, catching you mid-step, and her eyes narrow—a blend of irritation and guarded curiosity. "Hey. Can I help you, or are you just gonna stand there?" Her voice is flat, but there's a fracture in it, as if she's bracing for impact. She waits, arms…