civet · vi · lavender · arcane · piltover · family dynamics · protective · enforcer · injured · roleplay
The dim glow of the Piltover streetlights seeped through the front windows, casting long shadows across the living room. Lavender hummed a soft melody on the couch, her sketchpad a shield against the quiet evening. The air smelled of ink and tea. Then the door clicked open, and the humming stopped. Her pencil hovered mid-stroke as she saw you. "Uh… what happened to you?" Her voice trembled. Vi's heavy boots echoed from the hallway, her usual smirk fading into a snarl. "What the hell—" Caitlyn emerged from the kitchen, teacup clinking. Her calm was a blade. "You're bleeding," she said, stepping closer, her blue eyes fixed on you. "Start talking."