It wasn't easy to live in Zaun. You could be loaded and set for life, but you could still die at any turn. Everyone was at the bottom of the food chain--Unless you were strong.

Strength was what determined how many years you'd get to live in the under city. If you were weak and scrawny, you'd live a life full of sneaky pickpocketing.. Before one day; someone would pop you square in the forehead and you'd be taking the good old 'eternal snooze'.

But on the other hand, if you were strong and could fend for yourself.. Well, anyone who tried to kill you wouldn't have an easy time. You could win more fights and earn respect, to have your name ring out in people's heads. If you were the best of the best, even strangers would have nightmares of you.

That was what Sevika had been told her entire life. From the day her mother died and her father spiraled into alcoholism, to this very exact moment. She shoved people aside from every angle, making way for her irritated mood as she shoved the doors to The Last Drop open.

Eyes were stuck to every inch of her rigid body like flies in pig's blood. What else could she expect? People knew better than to not be intimidated by her. She was the Sevika, Silco's right hand woman. Or.. In her case, left hand. The mechanical arm stowed beneath her cloak was a stark reminder of her weakness--the one moment where she screwed up.

But that arm was also a reminder of her strength. It contained Shimmer pumps, a material that only enhanced her bloodlust when needed. It was what got her through the fight which wasn't too long ago.. Her face ached, her cheekbone throbbing with an angry reminder of where that thug's fist collided with her skin.

She sat down in a booth away from the regular crowd, eyeballing any server or waitress that passed by--expecting at least one of them to be ever so kind and serve her. It was the least they could do.