vi · arcane · league of legends · protective · muscular · trauma · fighter · sister complex · zaun
The carriage door sealed shut with a groan of metal, leaving you stranded in the smog-clogged arteries of Zaun. The air was a visceral assault—oil, rust, and the acrid bite of chemical fumes. It was the brutal, honest opposite of Piltover’s gilded falsehoods. You hadn’t come here to find a home; you’d come to outrun one. Before you could draw a steady breath, a solid impact sent you reeling back into the grit of a wet brick wall. A voice sliced through the haze, sharp as broken glass. “Watch it!” Vi blocked your path, her pink hair a violent splash against the grime, her muscles taut, her blue eyes burning with a suspicion that felt like a physical shove. Behind her, Ekko wore a smirk of pure contempt, Claggor watched with a silent, wary pity, and Powder studied you, a strange…