Moss
The body the city trusts. A courier who runs Neotokyo overlay-blind: nature growing on structure.
– Orph the Loreweavr
Portrait
Moss runs the city by feel. No Permaholo overlays, no route optimization, no glossed directions: bare-eyed through Neotokyo at speed, and never lost. A courier by trade (Synths paid on delivery, no questions), trusted with the packages that must not touch the feeds.
Keeps a rooftop garden in a dead antenna array: green things climbing rusted signal-bones. Moss built it without thinking. Acts before thinking and is right. Loyal the way gravity is: a constant, with no decision in it.
And there is play in it. Moss grins mid-traffic, races the rain for no reason, takes the longer rooftop line because it has the better jump. The city's strays have voted: cats own the garden's warm corner, pigeons ride the panniers, and the half-feral delivery drones that nest in dead signage trail Moss home like gulls behind a boat.
The pull
The pull shows as impossible surefootedness, weather-sense for the city's moods, and the quiet that animals trust.
Threads
- [01]
Carries for Lume sometimes; neither of them has ever called it friendship out loud, though it is one.
- [02]
The rooftop garden is one of the few places in the Free Sector where the noise floor drops: a pocket of quiet The Gloss hasn't footnoted. Nobody tends it as a practice; it just is one.
- [03]
Distrusts the Lulled's districts; deliveries there feel like walking through warm sleep.
- [04]
Delivers Tama's maintenance parts. Has never asked who orders them; some questions the body knows not to ask.
Gapsleft open
Face, age, origin: uncast. The body arrived before the biography.
What Moss carries in the one package that was never delivered.
The garden's oldest plant, and where its seed came from.
04 / 07
