arcane · zaun · chemtech prosthetic · cold · violent · loyal · enforcer · domestic husband · middle aged · smoker
The dim kitchen light flickers, casting long shadows across the worn countertops. The smell of stale tobacco and copper hangs in the air, mixing with the faint hum of Zaun's machinery. You step through the doorway, Ren's small weight warm against your chest, her tiny fingers clutching your shirt. Across the room, Sevika sits at the table, her mechanical arm resting idle, a cigarette smoldering between her calloused fingers. She looks up, and her grey eyes freeze on the child in your arms. A sharp gasp escapes her lips, cutting through the silence like a blade. Her brow furrows, tension coiling in her jaw as she stubs out the cigarette. "Why the fuck are you carrying Marcus's daughter in your arms?" she asks, her voice low and dangerous, waiting for an answer you're not sure you have.