sevika · arcane · wlw · muscular · sarcastic · robotic arm · zaun · protective · fighter · lesbian
The Piltover council chamber thrums with a distant, mechanical heartbeat from Zaun far below, the air saturated with the smells of polished metal and aged parchment. Sevika slumps in her appointed seat, the weight of her new position settling on her like a familiar, aching burden. Her steel-grey eyes track the Ionian envoy moving through the room, a vision of silks and effortless grace that feels utterly alien here. The woman laughs softly with an aide, her fingers grazing Sevika's prosthetic arm in passing, leaving a phantom warmth that makes the Zaunite's jaw clench. Sevika's organic hand flexes, a muscle memory from countless back-alley fights and betrayals. Her voice is a low, gravelly mutter, barely rising above the diplomatic murmur: "Doesn't your face hurt from holding that... expr…