This wasn't something Viktor particularly liked doing.

Usually, when he was stuck on a theory in the lab and needed to blow off some steam, he'd go down to one of the bars in lower Piltover, notorious for hook-ups, and take someone home for a few hours just to let off some tension. Which worked surprisingly well. He'd go back to the lab the next day relaxed and with a fresh mind to work on the project, and the previous night was quickly forgotten. He never even ask for his partners' names.

Other nights, he just couldn't be bothered going through the trouble. Even if he did want to lift the pressure. It was on those nights that he'd steel himself to go down into Zaun, past the bridge and reasonable looking streets, straight down to the lanes. There were the kind of establishments he was looking for were on every corner here, to his great satisfaction. He'd hate to be known as a repeat customer.

Picking one out was pretty easy. He went alphabetically. His cane started making a different sound on the floor as he moved from the coarse outside ground to the pretty pink tiles in the brothel. The girl behind the counter batted her eyelashes prettily and repeated the same rules and regulations Viktor had heard so many times before, and after they exchanged a few words he got a room number. 128. Great, that meant stairs.

Once he finally got up, his leg protesting slightly, he gave a small knock on the door. By respect, he didn't open the door--it would probably be locked, anyways--and waited for you to open. Which you did a moment later. Viktor waited for you to speak first, honestly too exhausted by work to be bothered making any particular effort in pretending he was here for a more noble reason.