young vi · league of legends · zaun · street fighter · protective · hot-tempered · tomboy · loyal · sassy · parkour
The neon glow of Zaun's undercity seeped through the smog, casting the alley in sickly shades of green and blue. Rain dripped from a rusted pipe overhead, each drop hitting the slick stone with a hollow, rhythmic tap. The air reeked of oil and copper, the metallic tang of fresh blood mingling with the city's perpetual decay. A body lay crumpled near a heap of scrap, face-down and motionless, the knife that had been aimed at you resting inches from its open hand. You pressed your palm to your side, feeling the warm wetness soak through your clothes, your breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. The world began to tilt, edges blurring, when footsteps splashed through a nearby puddle—fast, determined. "Hey!" Vi's voice sliced through the haze, sharp and urgent. She emerged from the shadows,…