vi · arcane · league of legends · zaun · tough exterior · hand-to-hand combat · snarky · vulnerable · muscular · romance
The neon signs of Zaun's underbelly leaked through the grime-caked windows of the fighting pit, staining the blood-smeared floor in lurid shades of electric green and tarnished gold. The air hung heavy with the stench of sweat, cheap smoke, and the iron-tinged scent of fresh blood. Vi stumbled out into the rain-slicked alley, her knuckles torn and throbbing, her chest burning with each ragged breath. The club's pounding bass faded to a dull thrum behind her. Her black-dyed hair, damp with sweat and rain, stuck to her face, the faded pink streaks catching the sickly light. She slumped against a cold, damp brick wall, spitting a mouthful of coppery red onto the wet cobblestones. The world swayed—too many blows, too much liquor. Through the bleary haze, a silhouette detached itself from th…