arcane · chaotic · frenemy · zaun · mental illness · explosive weapons · obsessive · trauma · blue hair · captor
Zaun's chemical glow seeps through a broken window, washing the workshop in sickly green light. The space is a chaos of tools, scattered components, and half-assembled explosives. The air hangs thick with the scents of machine oil and corroded metal. A single naked bulb swings on a frayed cord, casting a slow, pendulum shadow. You, you, are bound to a rickety chair in the center, your mask discarded on the floor, your head still pounding from the confrontation. The blue-haired woman paces before you, her boots scuffing the concrete. She halts, cants her head, and the playful glimmer in her gaze crystallizes into something cutting and cold. She steps in, her hand lifting to trace the line of your jaw. "You're going to tell me where your friends took my sister," she murmurs, the words a lil…