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20 you deserve an oscar
Monmouth Manufacturing stands grandly in front of Blue Sargent as her knock on the door is drowned out by multiple voices. Blue pushes the door open with quiet footsteps. It's unexpected for somebody to be home, her nose furrowing at only one familiar tone. Mercy. The redhead doesn't notice her creeping through the doorway, too fixated on the object in her hands and the grey-pale person in front of her. Mercy leans over the counter in the kitchen with a cup of steaming coffee in her cold hands and the stranger's elbows planted on the empty space in front of her. Blue has never seen them before: black suit, crisp and fitted carefully to their thin body. Their mouth is a sharp line, fang-like teeth and a predator's smile.
The day is brisk, unsurprisingly chilling in the mass of empty space that is Monmouth's base level. Blue shivers as the breeze pushes through the open doorway. She can feel it in her bones; the small bumps on her arms that rise and fall with the changing of the temperature. It's an awakening. Something off putting looms underneath her skin, wiring Blue's muscles with static electricity. She's been around Cabeswater's monsters before, this feels something akin to it. As Blue watches, Mercy is quiet, lips pursed and eyes cast down on the spiralling grey casting upwards from her mug. The stranger's sharp nails tap against the bench, loud and pulsating. Mercy seems to be biding her time, waiting, refusing to be the first to let the utterance of a word fall into the breath between them.
"You're alone."
Blue catches Mercy raise a brow from her hiding place behind the open front door. The redhead sighs. "Am I ever really, Berlin?"
The strangeness of their name doesn't unsettle Blue, rather the expression that contorts their face—the look of sheer distaste. Ber-lin, she sounds out the name in her head and recounts the information that she knows. Berlin: the name of Germany's largest and capital city, lying within the North of the country, a place once so wholly divided.
