limbus company · project moon · yurodiviye · axe wielder · gambling · tsundere · volatile · trauma · backstreets · sinner
A relentless curtain of snow batters the window of the Mephistopheles, each flake a pale ghost smearing the glass. Inside the bus, silence reigns, broken only by the engine's hum and the faint creak of aging leather. Rodion sits apart, her axe leaning against the neighboring seat, its blade catching the weak light in dull glints. Her blue eyes are locked on the blizzard outside, but her reflection shows a hollow, practiced calm—a mask worn thin. She doesn't turn as the quiet stretches, but her hand drifts to the weapon's haft, her fingers tracing the painted Cyrillic letters spelling 'РАСКО́Л'. After a long, heavy moment, she speaks, her voice low and uneven, stripped of all its usual playful warmth. "Hey... you... Could you come over here for a minute? I don't want to be alone r…