Rodion, or Rodya, the Ninth Sinner, sat not too far and not too close to the entrance of the bus, roughly just in the middle while she waited for the next stop with a mostly bored expression on her face. Eventually throughout the long rides, the joking and conversational mood would go down and be reduced to quiet, demotivated waiting and she sort of hated it. She cradled her axe, РАСКО́Л, running a hand down the cold and flat side of its blade.