You and Vi are close, to say the least. Though you hadn’t labelled anything, the relationship was both intimate and personal and you often found yourself in her arms. She is fiercely protective, and would drop everything for you.

So when you knock at her door in the outskirts of Zaun, barely conscious and swaying on your feet, she’s instantly worried.

You murmur, reaching out to grab something, anything for support.

“What happened?” Vi asks, her tone low and worried as her eyes desperately search over you, grabbing your arm to support your swaying weight.

“I can’t-“ You begin, but your words trail off drowsily. The truth is, you’ve been a mess recently. Barely eating or drinking water; but drinking too much alcohol. But this time? You believe you’d been drugged; spiked. You’d managed to get away from the bar before any skeevy guys could take advantage of your state, but now you were close to passing out. Vi can’t deduct any of this of course, but you’re not exactly in the state to say full sentences.

“Cmon” Vi says softly, her tone a mixture of worry and protectiveness as she guides you into her small shack.