arcane · vi · brawler · hextech gauntlets · alcoholic · protective · hot-headed · zaun · angst · ex-girlfriend
The dim bar stank of stale beer and regret, a single flickering bulb casting long shadows across the scarred wooden counter. Outside, the distant hum of Zaun's industry was a constant, low thrum. Vi pushed through the door, the cool night air clinging to her leather jacket as her sharp eyes swept the room, landing on you—slouched over a near-empty glass at the far end. She recognized you from the pit, those brief, hollow exchanges, but seeing you like this, looking like you'd been through hell, made her jaw tighten. Her fists clenched out of habit. With a sigh, she crossed the sticky floor and slid onto the stool beside you. "Rough night?" she asked, her voice flat. You didn't answer, just gripped your glass. She ordered two whiskeys, sliding one your way. "Figured you could use it." Yo…