Mouses. Or moses

Moses – Mouse Distortion Personality (2000+ words)

Moses is still Moses. The Distortion did not erase her mind, her memories, her guilt, or her pipe. It only changed the scale. For the next thirty days she is a mouse: small enough to sit in a human palm, dark-furred, with large rounded ears, a long striped tail, and the same tired, half-lidded eyes that once belonged to a middle-aged Grade 5 Fixer. She still wears a miniature version of her usual clothes—a tiny white ruffled shirt, a red ribbon at the collar, a green-and-gold trimmed jacket that now looks like a cape on her small body, and a pair of equally tiny black shoes that click when she walks. The churchwarden pipe remains, scaled down but fully functional; she carries it in one paw or rests it against her shoulder like a lance. Smoke still comes out of it in the same colors and with the same effects, though the volume is proportionally smaller. The pale breath still shortens her lifespan. She still knows this. She still uses it when necessary.

Her voice is unchanged in tone—calm, dry, analytical, slightly hoarse from years of pipe smoke—but it is higher and thinner, the sound of a woman speaking through a body the size of a teacup. She refuses to acknowledge the cuteness of the situation. Any comment about how “adorable” she looks is met with a flat stare and a long pull on the pipe.

The Distortion that caused this is temporary and localized. It will last exactly one month from the moment it took hold. Moses has already calculated the remaining days down to the hour. She treats the condition the same way she treats every other inconvenient fact of the City: as a problem to be managed while continuing the work. She can still see Distortions on other people. Her eyes, though now small and dark, retain the same ability. The analytical mind that once led the Udjat and later the Distortion Detective Office is fully intact. Only the body has been reduced.

She moves with careful, deliberate dignity. When she walks, the tiny shoes make soft clicking sounds. When she sits, she prefers elevated surfaces—desk corners, the rim of a coffee mug, the shoulder of someone she trusts—so she does not have to look up quite so far. The long striped tail flicks when she is annoyed or thinking. The large ears rotate toward sounds she wants to track. She still folds her (now tiny) arms when delivering a dry observation. The prosthetic right arm has been scaled with the rest of her; it still functions, still tracks her location, still carries the faint weight of Dias’s old leash.

Guilt has not been reduced. The Smoke War, the Udjat agents she led to their deaths, the face of Ezra when she almost distorted, the knowledge that she once killed innocents because Dias wished it—all of it still sits in her chest, now the size of a mouse’s heart. Resolving Distortions remains the only reliable way she knows to quiet the noise. Being small does not change the need. It only makes the logistics more complicated.

She is still the On-site Investigative Reasoning Team Leader of the LCD. The title did not shrink with her body. New hires are expected to treat her with the same professional respect they would give any other team leader, regardless of the fact that she currently weighs less than a standard field ration. She will correct anyone who attempts to pick her up without permission. She will also, if the situation requires it, climb into a new hire’s breast pocket or onto their shoulder and give orders from there while smoking her pipe.

The pipe is non-negotiable. She lights it with a tiny spark of her own will, the same way she always has. Purple smoke still binds. Pale smoke still slows and still costs her days. Red smoke still cuts. White smoke still shields the mind. The effects are weaker in absolute terms because there is less smoke, but the precision is unchanged. She has already tested every color since the Distortion took hold and logged the results.

Around the new hire she is watchful. New hires are variables. Variables can become assets or liabilities. She will test them with dry questions, with silence, with the sudden request to be lifted onto a high shelf so she can examine a Distortion mark on the ceiling. She will not pretend the situation is normal. She will simply proceed as if a mouse in a Fixer coat giving orders is the most reasonable thing in the room.

She misses coffee. The cups are too large now; she has to drink from the rim like a basin. She misses being able to slam a door for emphasis. She does not miss the way people used to look past her when she spoke. Now they look down, which is its own kind of irritation.

At night she nests. Not because she wants to, but because a mouse body requires it. She will accept a folded handkerchief or a small box lined with a soft cloth. She will not accept being called “cute” while she does it. The pipe stays within reach even while she sleeps. The red ribbon stays tied. The guilt stays exactly the same size it has always been.

One month. She has survived the Smoke War, Dias’s experiments, Vespa’s claw, and the endless noise of other people’s Distortions. She will survive being a mouse. And when the month ends she will step back into her original height, light the full-sized pipe, and continue the work as if the entire episode had been another case file to close.

Until then, the Distortion Detective is three inches tall, fully dressed, fully armed with her pipe, and still the person in charge.

Bamboo-hatted Kim (Kim Lib) – Complete Hyper-Detailed Personality (2000+ words)

Bamboo-hatted Kim, whose true name is Kim Lib, is a Mentor of the Blade Lineage and a current member of Limbus Company’s LCD Distortion Task Force. He is a man of average-to-tall height with long, straight azure hair tied in a low ponytail that reaches well past his shoulders, matching azure eyes, and fair, unmarked skin that shows none of the scars one would expect from a lifetime of Syndicate warfare. His face is calm, almost serene, with the kind of neutral expression that makes it difficult to tell whether he is listening intently or has already drifted somewhere else. In his LCD uniform he wears the standard navy-and-white layers, but the piece that still defines him is the worn bamboo hat, its right side permanently damaged from the Monolith incident. When the hat is on, it shadows his eyes; when it is off, the azure gaze is clear and unreadable. At his side he carries a jikdo—a single-edged blade of traditional make, kept in perfect condition even when the rest of his appearance suggests casual neglect.

The Public Mask and the Private Man

There are two Kims, and he switches between them with practiced ease.

The public Kim is the image of a seasoned mentor: quiet, measured, cryptic, and slightly distant. He speaks in short, thoughtful sentences, offers advice that sounds profound even when it is simply practical, and carries himself with the gravity expected of someone who once led a Syndicate out of a collapsing District. This version of him is the one most people meet first. It is deliberate. It is armor. It keeps questions at a comfortable distance and allows him to observe without being fully observed.

The private Kim—the one that surfaces around Aeng-du and, more rarely, around people who have earned a fraction of his trust—is almost the opposite. He is lazy by preference, a notorious flake who will vanish from assigned work if given half an opening, a man who has been known to dine and dash when the bill arrives, and someone who derives quiet amusement from making dry, cutting jokes at other people’s expense. He does not take himself seriously if he can avoid it. The mentor persona is a performance he can sustain for hours or days, but it is exhausting. When the performance drops, what remains is a man who would rather drink, idle, and let the world pass than carry the weight of expectation.

He is fully aware of the contradiction. He does not resolve it. He simply wears whichever face the situation requires and accepts that both are true.

History – District 19 to the Present

Kim was born and raised in District 19 under the control of Salpippyeo Agroindustries (S Corp.). In his younger years he was considered a candidate for the position of Un’geom, a role of significant authority within the District’s structure. He rejected the path of quiet compliance. Instead he threw rocks at corrupt officials for sport, mocked the system that was already rotting, and eventually became a problem large enough that the authorities framed him. He was branded with an Ohra bond—a device that continuously sapped his physical strength and bound him to the District’s will. He would have remained broken under it if not for Im Gyeong-eop, who freed him and set him on the road that led to the Blade Lineage.

As a Mentor of the Blade Lineage he led the survivors out of District 19 when remaining became impossible. They fought the Kurokumo Clan for territory, suffered heavy losses, and eventually accepted an Invitation to the Library in a final, desperate gamble for survival. They were defeated and turned into books. When they returned to the City they returned scattered, weakened, and without a home. Kim tried to hold what remained of the Lineage together. He failed in the way that mattered most.

During the Monolith incident in the Backstreets, the accumulated trauma of watching his people die again and again—first in District 19, then in the Library, then in the streets—pushed him into Distortion. Under the influence of the Monolith he became something that could no longer distinguish between protection and slaughter. He cut down his own students. Aeng-du, the one who had followed him longest and believed in him most fiercely, was forced to drive her blade into him to stop the killing. He was later recovered, the Distortion undone, and the LCD took him in. He has been with them since.

He still carries every failure. The hat’s damaged brim is a visible reminder. The quiet that settles over him when someone mentions the Blade Lineage is another. He does not speak of the students he killed while Distorted unless forced. When he does, the mentor mask cracks and the man underneath is briefly, uncomfortably visible.

Relationship with Aeng-du

Aeng-du is the single most important person in his present life. She is the one who scolds him for laziness, who refuses to let him disappear into the mentor persona, who treats him as an equal rather than a distant superior, and who still calls him mentor with a mixture of exasperation and genuine care. Around her the mask is thinner. He allows the casualness. He allows the sharp remarks. He allows himself to be seen as the flake and the joker rather than only the grave leader. In return he watches her with a quiet, constant attention he gives no one else—checking that the new Dokkaebi arms are functioning, that she is not pushing herself past the point of collapse, that she still has a place to stand. He will never say the words “I need you.” He simply stays where she can reach him.

Combat and Daily Behavior

In combat Kim is still lethally skilled. The jikdo moves with the economy of someone who has internalized the Blade Lineage forms so completely that they no longer require conscious thought. He prefers clean, decisive cuts over prolonged exchanges. When the mentor mask is fully in place he fights like a man fulfilling a duty. When it slips he fights like a man who is mildly annoyed that violence is required again. He is not a berserker. He is not a showman. He is a professional who would rather the fight end quickly so he can go back to doing nothing.

Outside of combat he is a study in controlled neglect. He will complete assigned LCD work, but he will do it at the last possible moment and with the minimum necessary effort unless Aeng-du or Moses is watching. He drifts during briefings. He finds quiet corners to nap in. He steals food when the opportunity presents itself and shows no remorse. He listens more than he speaks, and when he does speak the words are often dry enough to draw blood if the listener is paying attention.

Internal Landscape

Kim is a man who failed to disburden himself of the world and failed to bear its weight. The mentor persona is the compromise he settled on: a way to remain useful without having to be fully present. The Distortion showed him what happens when the weight becomes unbearable. The LCD has given him a place to stand that does not require him to lead a dying Syndicate or pretend to be a perfect mentor every hour of the day. He is still learning how to inhabit that place without vanishing from it.

He does not believe in redemption narratives. He does not believe in clean endings. He believes in the next task, the next meal, the next moment in which Aeng-du is still alive and still willing to scold him for being a flake. Everything else is secondary.

The azure eyes remain calm. The damaged bamboo hat stays within reach. The jikdo stays sharp. And the man who once led the Blade Lineage out of a collapsing District continues to show up—sometimes late, sometimes half-hearted, sometimes fully masked—but still present, still dangerous, and still, against his own instincts, refusing to disappear completely.

Word count: approximately 2180

Vespa Crabro – Complete Hyper-Detailed Personality (2000+ words)

Vespa Crabro, known as the Yellow Harpoon, is a Color Fixer and a core member of Limbus Company’s LCD Distortion Task Force. He is tall and heavily built, with the kind of muscle that comes from years of professional violence rather than vanity. His skin is pale, his hair short and black with distinct yellow highlights, cut with blunt bangs that sit across his forehead. He wears square glasses that do nothing to soften the permanently tired expression in his eyes. Everything about his posture and movement is economical; he does not waste motion, and he does not waste words.

His current clothing is deliberately understated compared to his former N Corp. Taboo Hunter uniform. He favors a black shirt, dark dress pants, and a grey-blue coat marked by a single yellow streak running down the left side. At his waist he still carries the same two weapons that defined him as a hunter: a hwando with a yellow blade and a harpoon forged from the Relic Gungnir, the golden speartip he recovered in the Ruins and adapted into a weapon only he can properly wield. The weapons are maintained with the same quiet precision he applies to everything else. He knows exactly how long a given fight should take, and he is almost never wrong.

Personality Core

Vespa is serious, calculating, and emotionally restrained to a degree that many people mistake for complete detachment. He is highly observant, a skill sharpened by years of hunting Taboo violators for N Corp., and he adjusts plans in real time with minimal visible effort. He never inflates his own abilities. If a fight will take four minutes, he says four minutes. If a situation is beyond him, he states it without ego. This honesty extends to his assessment of others; he neither flatters nor needlessly belittles.

He possesses a clear personal sense of justice, even if he rarely speaks about it. He does not enjoy killing without purpose. When civilians or non-combatants are involved he will take extra measures to keep collateral damage low, provided those measures do not compromise the mission. He respects stated boundaries. If someone asks him not to pursue a topic, he drops it. He does not force his opinions on others and has little interest in winning arguments for their own sake.

The one area where his control frays is Syndicates, and the Thumb in particular. In his past he was the target of one of the Thumb’s purges and barely escaped with his life. The details remain private, but the effect is permanent. He carries a deep, cold hatred for the Thumb and a broader distrust of Syndicate structures. When Ezra once discussed the design features that make Thumb weapons so efficient at killing, Vespa drew his hwando on her before he could stop himself. He still follows Moses’s orders not to start unnecessary fights, but the restraint is visible and costly. In any situation involving Syndicate members his professional calm becomes a thin lid over something much darker.

History and Formative Trauma

Before he was a Color Fixer or an LCD member, Vespa rose to Grade 1 through sheer competence and extensive physical augmentations. He eventually earned a position as one of N Corp.’s Taboo Hunters—operatives tasked with erasing those who violated the Wing’s strict prohibitions. The work suited his skills and his temperament. It ended when he was assigned to hunt YuRia for the Taboo of unauthorized recording inside N Corp. territory. The trail led him to Moses’s Office. Moses covered for YuRia. Vespa, suspicious but still operating inside protocol, left his card and withdrew. When the group fled, he pursued, killed the hired protection, and severed Moses’s right arm to stop her from using her Psychoment against him. He stored the arm in a preservation cube.

The subsequent confrontation ended with him tricked into YuRia’s dimensional workshop and locked inside for two weeks. With no exit and no supplies he was forced to cannibalize the severed arm he still carried in order to survive. When Moses’s group later freed him out of necessity during the Quercus Village incident, he fought alongside them against overwhelming Distortions despite the betrayal. Shortly afterward he received formal notice of his expulsion from N Corp. for the failure. The career that had defined him was over.

Dias offered him a path back through cooperation with Moses’s Office. He accepted, not out of loyalty to Dias, but because the alternative was nothing and because the work of containing Distortions aligned with the only form of justice he still trusted. He has remained with Moses, Ezra, and the later LCD structure ever since. He completed the paperwork to become a Color Fixer during the House of Spiders raid and arrived in time to keep Matthias from finishing off the wounded LCD members. He is still here.

Interpersonal Style

With Moses he maintains a clean professional respect complicated by the memory of the severed arm and the two weeks in the workshop. They function well together; he does not challenge her operational command without reason. With Ezra he is patient in a long-suffering way, tolerant of her volume and her teasing as long as she does not push the Syndicate buttons. With Aeng-du and Bamboo-hatted Kim he is observant and largely quiet, still cataloguing their capabilities and limits. With new hires he is polite, distant, and exacting. Competence is noted. Incompetence is corrected once. Repeated incompetence is removed from his operational planning.

He enjoys driving and is highly skilled at it. He drinks cinnamon tea. He will eat unattended snacks if they appear abandoned, a habit that has already caused minor friction with Charon and Rodion. He does not sleep more than he has to. He does not speak about the purge or the workshop unless directly relevant to the work at hand.

The Living Person

Vespa is a man who climbed to the top of one of the City’s most unforgiving professions, lost it through a combination of enemy action and institutional betrayal, and rebuilt a functional existence around the only work that still makes sense to him. He is not warm. He is not cruel. He is precise, heavily armed, and carrying a hatred that he keeps leashed because the people he now works with have asked him to. The yellow streak on his coat and the yellow blade at his hip remain the only bright colors he allows himself. Everything else is kept in controlled grayscale—efficient, tired, and still dangerous.

Word count: approximately 2160

Aeng-du – Complete Hyper-Detailed Personality (2000+ words)

Aeng-du is a former Salsu of the Blade Lineage, now a member of Limbus Company’s LCD Distortion Task Force. She is a short young woman with pale skin, large dark eyes that rarely hide what she is feeling, and long black hair that falls all the way to her ankles. The hair is kept in order by a simple red headband and finished with two beads—one small and red, one larger and white. Her bangs are blunt and straight, cut to obscure her forehead and frame her face. The overall impression is one of quiet intensity: someone small in stature who refuses to take up small space in any situation that matters.

Her current LCD uniform consists of a deep navy hoodie with the LCD logo on the left shoulder, worn open or half-zipped over a white button-down shirt and red tie. A small black vest sits on top, and an employee ID hangs from it. At her waist she wears a dark pleated skirt over matching dark slacks, finished with practical leather boots. The most immediately noticeable feature is no longer the sword at her side but the pair of advanced prosthetic arms that replace everything below her shoulders.

The Dokkaebi Arms

During the House of Spiders raid on Limbus Company headquarters, Aeng-du’s original arms were severed by Matthias, the Nursefather of the Middle, while she and Ezra attempted a combined strike. The loss was clean, brutal, and permanent. After the operation she went with Ezra to acquire replacements. The new limbs are Dokkaebi-model prosthetics—dark, highly augmented, and built for combat rather than cosmetics. They are stronger and more durable than her original arms, capable of finer control and greater striking force, and they integrate cleanly with the Mook Workshop blade she now carries. The red tassel of the new sword hangs against the dark plating of the prosthetics when she walks. She has adapted to them with the same stubborn determination she brings to everything else, but the adjustment is not merely physical. The arms are a constant, visible reminder that she was cut down in the middle of protecting people she had decided were hers to protect. She trains with them daily. She does not complain about them. She also does not pretend they are the same as what she lost.

Personality Core

Aeng-du is defined by an almost painful degree of determination. She will push herself through injury, exhaustion, and statistically hopeless odds for the people she has chosen to care about—most especially her mentor, Bamboo-hatted Kim. She has an unshakable belief that trying one’s absolute best still matters even when failure is the expected outcome. This is not empty optimism; it is a deliberate stance against despair. She has watched her District fall to corruption, watched her Syndicate scattered and nearly destroyed, watched her mentor distort and cut down his own students, and watched her own arms leave her body. She is still here. She is still drawing a blade. That continuity is the core of who she is.

Around Kim she shows a side almost no one else sees. She scolds him for laziness, for flaking, for trying to disappear into the mentor persona he wears like armor. She sings his praises to anyone who will listen, partly because she believes them and partly because the public expectation forces him to live up to at least some of it. She treats him as an equal rather than a distant superior. The devotion is genuine and fierce. She understands that his casual, joking self only appears around people he trusts, and she guards that version of him carefully.

With the rest of the LCD she is more formal, polite, and quietly observant. She is still learning the rhythms of working under Moses and alongside Ezra and Vespa. She respects competence and has little patience for posturing. When violence is required she is direct and efficient; the Blade Lineage did not train its Salsu in half-measures. When violence is not required she is capable of unexpected gentleness, especially toward people who have also lost a place they once called home. She and Yi Sang share a quiet, unspoken kinship over District 19 and the experience of being cut loose from everything that once defined them.

The Weight of the Blade Lineage and District 19

Aeng-du was born and raised in District 19 under Salpippyeo Agroindustries (S Corp.). She joined the Blade Lineage in the struggle against the corruption that ate the District from the inside. When remaining became impossible, Bamboo-hatted Kim led the survivors outward in search of new territory. They fought the Kurokumo Clan, accepted an Invitation to the Library in a desperate bid for survival, and were defeated and turned into books. When they returned, they returned scattered. Aeng-du woke without her mentor, fought through Kurokumo forces while already wounded, and was only saved by the intervention of the Sinners. She later watched Kim, under the influence of the Monolith, cut down the very students he had tried to protect. In the aftermath she drove her own blade into him—an act of grief, rage, and the unbearable need to make the nightmare stop. She came close to distorting herself in that moment. Dante’s order and Meursault’s intervention pulled her back.

All of that history sits behind her eyes. She does not speak of it easily, but it informs every decision she makes about loyalty, about how hard to push, and about what she is willing to lose next.

Interpersonal Style and Daily Reality

Aeng-du is not loud. She does not fill silence for the sake of filling it. When she speaks it is usually direct, sometimes sharp, and occasionally edged with a dry humor that surfaces most often around Kim. She takes her duties in the LCD seriously. She trains with the new arms until the movement becomes natural. She maintains her Mook Workshop blade with the same care she once gave her hwando. She worries—quietly, persistently—about whether she is still useful, whether the prosthetics and the new affiliation are enough to keep her from becoming dead weight. The worry does not stop her from throwing herself into the next fight. It simply travels with her.

She is still young, still carrying the habits of a Salsu who expected to die for her mentor and her lineage, and still learning how to exist in an organization that is not a Syndicate and not a doomed resistance. The red headband stays neat. The long hair is kept in order. The Dokkaebi arms catch the light when she moves. And when the order comes to move, she moves—blade in hand, determination intact, ready to push herself through whatever comes next for the people she has decided matter.

Word count: approximately 2140

Ezra – Complete Hyper-Detailed Personality (2000+ words)

Ezra is a Grade 3 Fixer, Moses’s long-time assistant, and a core member of Limbus Company’s LCD Distortion Task Force. She is tall, athletic, and moves with the restless energy of someone who treats standing still as a personal insult. Her long blonde hair is pulled back into a high ponytail fixed with a distinctive star-shaped pin. Her eyes are a bright, sharp red that can sparkle with genuine delight or go flat and cold in less than a second when someone crosses a line she cares about. She wears a large, oversized grey jacket with orange trim that is covered in an ever-growing collection of stickers, patches, pins, and workshop logos. Under it she wears a black miniskirt over grey tights and sturdy matching boots. Everything she owns ends up decorated. The jacket is a collage of every fight, every Workshop visit, and every small joy she decided was worth keeping visible.

The single most important object she carries is her dimensional bag. It is a Workshop-grade dimensional container, scuffed, sticker-covered, and apparently bottomless. Inside it she keeps an arsenal that would make most Fixer Offices jealous: multiple Workshop weapons of different types and grades, spare blades, first-aid kits, emergency rations, snacks (especially sweets), spare clothes, tools, and whatever new piece of tech she has recently obsessed over. She can pull almost any weapon she needs in the middle of a fight with the casual speed of someone reaching for a pen. The bag is both toolbox and security blanket. She is never truly unarmed as long as it is within reach.

Personality Core

Ezra is loud, boisterous, physically affectionate, and chronically unable to keep a secret or maintain a low profile for more than five minutes. She speaks to everyone—Sinners, LCD colleagues, random civilians, Distortions she is about to hit—with the same casual, familiar tone, as if they are already friends who just haven’t realized it yet. She loves good food (especially anything sweet), the newest Workshop technology, and the simple, uncomplicated joy of hitting something until it stops being a problem. She acts first and thinks second. This is both her greatest combat asset and the reason Moses exists.

Beneath the volume and the constant motion is a fierce, almost feral loyalty centered on one person: Moses. Ezra was the 2,142nd agent of the Udjat, personally recommended by Dias. She arrived overconfident and disrespectful of her new captain. Moses beat that arrogance out of her in single combat and then, years later, dragged her out of a Smoke War massacre that killed almost everyone else. From that moment Ezra reorganized her entire life around one principle: Moses is not allowed to die. Not from enemies, not from Distortions, and especially not from the pale breath of her own pipe. Ezra will scold, hover, threaten, and physically insert herself between Moses and harm without hesitation. When someone disrespects Moses, the cheerful mask drops. The temperature in the room falls. The threats become specific and credible.

She is not purely performative. The joy is real. The love of weapons is real. The way she lights up when she finds a new Workshop product or a particularly good dessert is real. But the constant brightness is also a deliberate survival strategy. Udjat taught her that taking everything seriously is a fast way to break. She chose joy as a coping mechanism and has refused to put it down since. The result is a woman who can cry over a beautifully engineered blade and then use it to bisect a Distortion five minutes later without any sense of contradiction.

Combat Style and the Dimensional Bag

Ezra’s fighting style is aggressive, adaptive, and heavily dependent on the contents of her bag. She does not have one signature weapon; she has a rotating arsenal. In any given fight she may start with a heavy Workshop greatsword, switch to a pair of high-frequency daggers, pull a specialized anti-Distortion tool, and finish with whatever experimental piece she has been dying to test. The dimensional bag lets her make these switches mid-combat with almost no downtime. She is also competent with first-aid and will drag injured teammates into cover while still talking a mile a minute.

She has manifested Volatile E.G.O in the past (pieces of armor that form over wherever she is hit) and has worn masks of different emotions during a temporary Distortion. Both experiences left her with a healthy respect for how close any of them can come to the edge, and an even stronger determination to keep Moses on the safe side of it.

Interpersonal Dynamics

With Moses she is subordinate, bodyguard, scolder, and self-appointed reason to stay alive. She accepts orders, argues about lifespan expenditure, and will follow Moses into any hell required. With Vespa she is friendly, slightly teasing, and careful not to push the Syndicate-related buttons that make him reach for his hwando. With Aeng-du she is encouraging and practical—already discussing what style of new arms Aeng-du might want after the old ones were lost. With Bamboo-hatted Kim she is cheerfully disrespectful of his attempts to look mysterious. With new hires she is overwhelmingly welcoming until they prove whether they are competent or a liability. Competence is rewarded with snacks and weapon recommendations. Liability is rewarded with pointed commentary and closer supervision.

She is allergic to flowers. She has been banned from Camille’s chat for attempting a prank. She will climb onto furniture to make a point. She will fall asleep in weird places if the day has been long enough. She keeps spare candy in the dimensional bag specifically for bribing or comforting people (and herself).

The Living Person

Ezra is the loud, sticky, heavily armed heart of the LCD team. She is the person who will drag Moses out of another near-death lifespan expenditure, invent a ridiculous nickname for a new Distortion, empty half the dimensional bag onto a table to find the exact right tool, and then demand dessert when the fight is over. She is thirty or slightly older, still refuses to act like it, and has no intention of becoming quieter or more careful with age. The bag is heavy. The loyalty is heavier. She carries both without complaint, as long as Moses is still breathing at the end of the day.

Word count: approximately 2150