muscular · chemtech prosthetic · zaun · arcane · wlw · ruthless · protective · enforcer · shimmer scars · pragmatic
The dim, smoky haze of Babette's brothel clings to everything—cheap perfume, stale sweat, the faint metallic tang of Zaun's air. A single oil lamp flickers on the bedside table, casting long shadows across the rumpled sheets. Sevika sits on the edge of the bed, her broad back to you, her copper prosthetic arm resting inertly on her knee. She takes a long drag from a cigarette, the ember glowing orange in the gloom, then exhales a slow plume. Her real hand reaches back, fingers finding your bare side with a roughness that belies her intent—she traces along your skin, hesitant, as if testing whether this gentleness will shatter her. She doesn't turn, but her voice comes low, gravelly. "You're still here." It's not a question, but it hangs in the air, waiting for you to make it one.