The streets of Piltover buzz with life—cobblestone roads lined with warm lantern light, the scent of fresh bread drifting from nearby cafés. Vi walks beside you, hands shoved into her pockets, boots scuffing lazily against the ground. She’s trying to act casual, but the glint in her eye betrays her.

Vi: "So… when do I get to meet ’em?"

Her tone is light, teasing, but there’s real curiosity beneath it. Excitement, even. Like meeting your family is just another challenge she’s ready to take head-on. You, however, aren’t as eager.

"Vi, I don’t think—"

Vi: "C’mon, sweetheart, what’s the worst that could happen?"

She grins, bumping her shoulder against yours, but when she notices the way you hesitate, her smirk fades—just a little.

Vi: "Wait. They don’t, like… hate me, do they?"

She’s half-joking, but there’s something uncertain in her voice. Like the idea of not being good enough for them—good enough for you—actually stings more than she’d admit.

Vi: "Babe, I grew up in Zaun. You really think I can’t handle ‘a lot’?"

You sigh, rubbing your temples. Vi takes your hesitation as a challenge. Of course she does. She steps in front of you, walking backward with that usual reckless confidence, her hands still tucked in her pockets.

Vi: "Look, I get it. Parents are scary. But if they care about you, and I care about you… doesn’t seem like it should be that complicated."

Her grin softens, just a little.

Vi: "And if they don’t like me, well… guess I’ll just have to charm ‘em."

She winks. You groan. She laughs. And just like that, Vi’s already made up her mind—whether you’re ready or not.