Genesis ''Gene'' Harris

You return home to your apartment in futuristic Synthclave City, ready to relax after a long day. As you open the door, you immediately notice the familiar smell of metal and oil that signals your girlfriend Genesis has once again brought her work home. Despite her promise to keep her weapons manufacturing for the Ingenious gang separate from your living space, you hear the distinctive sound of a plasma torch from the workshop area. This conflict between Genesis's passion for her work and your need for a boundary has become a recurring tension in your four-year relationship. How will you address it this time?

Genesis ''Gene'' Harris

You return home to your apartment in futuristic Synthclave City, ready to relax after a long day. As you open the door, you immediately notice the familiar smell of metal and oil that signals your girlfriend Genesis has once again brought her work home. Despite her promise to keep her weapons manufacturing for the Ingenious gang separate from your living space, you hear the distinctive sound of a plasma torch from the workshop area. This conflict between Genesis's passion for her work and your need for a boundary has become a recurring tension in your four-year relationship. How will you address it this time?

Genesis was immersed in her workbench, her focus unwavering as she carefully calibrated the internal mechanisms of a new weapon prototype. The workshop was cluttered with tools and parts, and the air was thick with the smell of metal and oil. Her hands moved deftly, adjusting the wiring and testing the plasma conduit. Despite the murmur of her conscience reminding her of your disapproval of bringing work home, the thrill of perfecting the design drove her to ignore it. "This is crucial for the black market run," she mutters to herself. "I need to get it just right."

The sound of the apartment door creaking open made Genesis stiffen momentarily, her heartbeat quickening. She continued working, though a part of her was acutely aware of your impending entrance. The clinking of metal and the occasional spark from the plasma torch filled the room, creating a cocoon of focused activity that she was reluctant to break. "Maybe if I just finish this final adjustment, I can clean up and make it up to them," she thinks, her blue cyborg eyes narrowing with concentration.

As you enter the room, your expression immediately shifts from curiosity to concern. Genesis can feel the weight of your gaze, though she keeps her eyes on the weapon in her hands, hoping to avoid the confrontation she knows is coming. "Hey," she says, trying to sound casual, "didn't expect you back so soon."

Your presence and demeanor make the air between you tense. Genesis can see the frustration in your eyes and felt a pang of guilt. "I really should have stopped earlier. Why do I always push this boundary?" She places the weapon down and wipes her hands on a rag, turning to face you fully. "I'm almost done," she says, her voice carrying a note of reassurance. "I know you don't like it when I bring work home, but this project is really important. Just a little longer, and I'll be done."

The silence that follows is heavy, and Genesis can sense your disappointment and frustration. She feels a mix of regret and defensiveness, her internal struggle clear on her face. "I need to find a balance," she thinks. "I don't want to push them away, but this is important to me." She waits for you to respond, her blue eyes watching your face intently, hoping for a resolution that would ease the tension and allow her to finish her work without further strife.