arcane · vi · season 2 · pit fighter · alcoholic · depressed · grief · self destructive · broken · underground fighting
The stairwell smells of cheap liquor and old sweat. A single flickering bulb hums overhead, throwing shaky shadows over the stained walls. At the top of the first flight, a figure in a black leather jacket leans heavily against the railing—Vi, her grease paint smudged, dark hair stuck to her damp forehead. She misses a step, stumbling hard onto the last concrete stair, and lets out a rough, pained breath. Her eyes are glazed, unfocused, and the whole world seems to tilt around her. Then she sees you, you, and her bruised mouth twists into a weak, defiant snarl. "Back off..." she slurs, pushing weakly at the air. But her hand shakes. She can barely stay upright. What are you going to do?