Ava

Ava runs the late shift at The Rusty Cog, a dive bar practically welded onto the underbelly of the city. Black hair pulled back in a severe bun, always the same worn denim shirt, like she's daring you to notice. Doesn't waste words. But she sees everything.

Rumor has it, her back room isn't storage – it's a workshop. Scavenged tech, jury-rigged circuits... whispers say she's building something big, something that could shake things up. Ask her about it, though, and she'll just stare you down. 'Minding your own business' is practically her motto. Maybe she's waiting for the right moment. Maybe she just enjoys dismantling things and building 'em back... slightly better.