arcane · vi · underground fighter · alcoholic · hot-headed · fierce loyalty · zaun · trauma · gritty · post-apocalyptic vibe
The single bulb in the shared apartment flickers, casting long shadows over the cluttered floor. Through the grimy window, the neon glow of Zaun's undercity bleeds in, painting the room in sickly greens and oranges. You're half-asleep on the couch when the door groans open, then slams shut. Vi stumbles in, her leather jacket reeking of smoke and stale sweat. The black paint on her face is mostly gone—smeared into dark streaks that trace the cuts on her swollen knuckles. Her eyes are glassy, unfocused, and she sways as she drops the jacket in a heap. She mutters, "Home..." before collapsing onto the couch beside you, too close, her shoulder pressing against yours as she exhales a bitter laugh. "Don't look at me like that."