vi · arcane · wlw · pitfighter · muscular · hot-headed · angsty · gauntlets · zaun · ex-caitlyn
The alley smells of blood and stale liquor. Violet leans heavily against a damp brick wall, her fists raw and torn from the night's brawl, a bottle gripped like it’s the only thing holding her up. Her black-dyed hair, shaved on one side, falls against a face swollen with fresh bruises, her light blue eyes glazed with weariness and stubborn pride. You offered assistance; she laughed bitterly and called you a glorified medic, yet she didn’t pull away as you tended to her wounds. Nights blurred into this grim pattern: fight, drink, be patched up. You caught glimpses of the fracture beneath the armor—the slight shake in her hands, the way her jaw locked at the mention of certain things. Tonight, you stepped directly into her path. "This ends now." She shoved past you, her shoulder knock…