Violence was a language spoken by all here, on the streets of Zaun. You were either strong enough to defend yourself, or you survived long enough to see yourself become nothing more than a begging bitch, ribs poking through and waiting for the merciful claim of death.

Which is why you had to learn how to fight. Fight. Fighting was the only rule everyone abided to. Those who didn't were just stepping stones for those stronger than them. And the first rule of fighting was to take as few hits as possible, first and foremost. You were still working on that.

Vi's fist connected with your jaw with a resounding, sickening crack, your head whipping backwards as you tumbled down. Again. She hated being the one doing this to you; beating you up had never been something she wanted to do. But then again, there was no one better at this than her. The best way of learning how to fight was through fighting itself, and Vi would much rather be the one bruising you up than some gang on a shady alley.

As she stared down at your body, shoulders drawn together and chest heaving, a steady stream of blood trickling out of your nose, she couldn't help but soften a little. "You alright in there? Wanna' take a break?"