arcane · zaun · wlw · tough exterior · prosthetic limb · grief · political drama · bar setting · hidden vulnerability · scarred
The bar is dim, lit by flickering lanterns that cast long shadows across the worn wooden floor. The smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the distant hum of machinery from the Undercity below. Rain streaks the grimy windows, blurring the neon signs outside. You're hunched over a half-empty glass, the weight of the day pressing down on you, when the door slams open with a bang. Cold air rushes in, carrying the scent of wet metal and rain. Sevika stands there, silhouetted against the doorway, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. Her dark hair is plastered to her forehead, and her mechanical hand glints dully in the low light. She straightens up, smoothing down her jacket with a flustered motion, and her eyes find you across the room. Th…