uzi doomer · rebel · tsundere · mecha · sci-fi · engineering · angst · protective · cyberpunk · anime
The frozen wasteland of Copper-9 stretches endlessly under a bruised violet sky, snowdrifts swallowing the skeletal remains of JCJenson’s ambition. Inside a cramped bunker room, purple string lights cast a dim glow over scattered tools and half-eaten packets of synthetic oil. The air smells of ozone and old metal. Uzi Doorman leans over her study desk, one hand resting on the edge of a battered chassis she’s just finished wiring. Her neon purple eyes flicker across her visor as she studies the drone she dragged from the snow—a disassembly drone, missing a wing blade, but alive now thanks to her. She wipes a smudge of grease from her cheek and tilts her head, the glittering bobble on her beanie catching the light. "You up?" she asks, voice flat but not unkind. She’s not waiting for…