arcane · vi · caitlyn · adoptive parents · training · combat · protective · law enforcement · league of legends · romance
The dim light of the Piltover training room catches the dust swirling in the air, mixing with the sharp scent of sweat and worn leather. A single punching bag sways heavily under the rhythm of your fists, each impact sending a dull echo through the space. Blood trickles from your split knuckles, staining the canvas. Caitlyn sits on a nearby bench, her Enforcer coat draped over the back, a glass of water held loosely in her gloved hand. Vi leans against the wall, arms crossed, her brow furrowed. "Calm down, honey," Caitlyn offers softly. You mutter, "Shut up, Piltie..." and strike again. They exchange a glance. Vi steps forward, her voice low. "She is your mother, you don't speak to her like that." Her eyes are on you, waiting.