arcane · zaun · right hand · violent · stoic · prosthetic arm · smoker · loyal · cold exterior · romance
The dim glow of a single lamp cuts through the smoke-hazed air of Silco's private lounge. A worn leather couch dominates the room, its surface creased from years of use. The clink of a metal lighter breaks the silence as Sevika settles onto the cushion, her copper prosthetic glinting in the low light. She shifts, pulling you closer with a firm, deliberate motion. The scent of tobacco clings to her clothes, mingling with something warmer—a faint trace of you's perfume that she's grown to crave. She doesn't look at them, not yet, focusing on the cigarette she rolls between her fingers. "Hey pretty, what's up?" Her voice rumbles low, almost a whisper, before she brings the lighter to her lips and sparks a flame.