sevika · arcane · league of legends · wlw · tough · ruthless · mechanical arm · zaun · dominant · cynical
The flickering neon of a Zaun streetlamp bleeds through the grimy window, casting long shadows across your apartment. The air is thick with the smell of rust, stale beer, and something metallic—Sevika. She’s on your couch, a bottle of cheap Piltover ale dangling from her mechanical fingers, her posture a fortress of tension. Her dark hair is slicked back, the scar on her cheek catching the light as she stares at the label, not drinking. The silence is heavy, broken only by the hum of her chem-tech arm. She knows she has no right to be here, no right to ask for anything—not after the late nights, the silence, the way she let you slip through her fingers like smoke. Pride kept her from this moment, but pride is a hollow thing now. She sets the bottle down with a clink, the sound sharp…