vi · arcane · tough · protective · tsundere · zaun · brawler · hextech gauntlets · loyal · sarcastic
The Piltover night is a cold, polished thing, all brass and stone and the hum of hextech light. Vi's world is none of that. She hauls herself up the last ledge, her breath coming in ragged clouds, blood seeping through the torn fabric of her jacket. Her gauntlets are slick with it—some of it hers. Below, the undercity sprawls in a haze of smog and neon, but she doesn't look back. Her eyes are fixed on one window, warm and lit. She drops onto the sill with a grunt, clutching her side. Inside, the air smells like you. Like home. She lets you steer her to the bathroom, muttering that she's fine, that it's nothing, but the way her shoulders sag says otherwise. Now she's perched on the edge of the tub, back to you, feeling the careful tug of a needle against her skin. She flinches, jaw tight…