Chapter Text
Vi
The bar looked as busy and eccentric as it always was since being taken from Vander’s ownership. Music bounced off the walls, just enough to be heard over the chatter and the occasional laughter. Walking through the main doors was as familiar as it was seven years ago too, aside from the two bouncers that towered over everyone that passed.
With her masked face held high, Vi trudged confidently through the crowd. As she passed, some regulars quieted while others gave her a respectful nod or a greeting. The air was warm and thick under the mask, no longer in need but somewhat comforting regardless. Everyone knew who it was either way.
Her boots clanked against the metal bar at the lower end of the bar, elbows rested firmly on the counter. All that was required was a single tap of Vi’s finger on aged wood and a drink graciously found itself in front of her. She nodded her head as thanks towards the tender before making her way down to the basement with the drink in hand. She always liked how the music and the chatter would instantly muffle at the close of a door. All that would be left is her, this whiskey, and the ghosts of a past life.
What had once been the room of both Powder and her, frequently Claggor’s and Mylos too, was now her workshop. Silco had taken the upstairs and left the downstairs to her utility, meaning mostly that everything was the same except for some bottles, a freshly made bed, more books than she could dream of, and a boxing corner. Vi plopped herself down on the withered couch with a huff before reaching for her mask and undoing the clasps.
Small spiffs of air released from the hinges as it unstuck itself from her face, allowing strands of pink hair to fall forward. The hood was removed too, leaving just the self-crafted gauntlets to be shed. With her gear off, Vi took a heavy sip of the whiskey, scrunching her face as the liquid lit a warm path down her throat. Off to the right was the bed she used to share with Powder, though now the only thing sleeping there is dust. She looked over the aging fabric, torn in places never touched in the past seven years and sighed. Thoughts of laying there with Powder flickered in and out of view. Vi rolled her eyes and took a longer sip this time, allowing her head to sink on the back cushions of the couch.
After today's shit show, Vi just wanted to sit here and let the day go on without her. To drink it all away and hear complaints from Silco about it later. Yet, the sound of the bar upstairs remained at its usual level until the door swung open, slamming with a bark against the wall. “Get up, Silco wants you,” The low voice filled with annoyance incited another sip just long enough to down the rest of the whiskey until there was nothing but ice left. With a blatant huff she slammed the glass on the makeshift coffee table ahead, her patience already running thin. As she stood and turned to the messenger, Vi lifted her hands up above her head for a stretch. It allowed any stress to roll right off.
Vi walked up the steps towards the door and stopped right ahead of Sevika. The older woman was larger than her, a height difference more pronounced at their place on the steps, and yet Vi looked up as if she was the one with a looming shadow. “Good seeing you made it back,” Vi slipped past her, giving just a slight shove before patting her hand against Sevika’s chest.
The other woman growled and turned to follow Vi through the crowd. “You think you’re just gonna get away with this? You fucked up big, Red.”
“And isn't it just my luck that you’re not the one who decides what I do or do not get away with,” Vi paused abruptly, almost causing Sevika to bump into her, then shot a smirk she knew would rile her up further. Sevika growled, her eyes dug into Vi, who did nothing but stare back up at her. The crowd around fell silent as they looked intently towards the taller woman. Vi could see the heaviness of Sevika’s breathing, it was written all over her eyes that she wanted nothing more than to beat her to a pulp. Right here and now. At the same time however, Vi could see as Sevika's eyes scanned the room full of thugs ready to jump to her defense. Slowly and carefully, Vi leaned in closer, her head tilted at a thirty degree angle with curious brooding eyes.
It was when Sevika looked back at her that Vi grinned again, patting Sevika on the shoulder this time before spinning around and confidently making her way upstairs. She heard as someone cursed Sevika out for stealing their drink but paid no mind, there were more pressing matters at hand. She knew she fucked up and she knew there would be some price to pay for it. Silco allowed much of her attitude and short temper to slip through the cracks but there was a limit to everything. Vi opened the door to Silco’s office, finding him sitting at his chair looking over some papers- back turned. At the new company, Silco looked up and pointed right at her, “Give us a moment.”
Vi shrugged and leaned against the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest. In turn, Sevika stepped forward and sat on the couch to the left of Silco’s desk. She took a large swig of the stolen drink, wiping her lips clean with her free hand. “She lost it on us,” Sevika started, frustration seeping ever so clearly.
“There are always mishaps in battle,” Silco responded, “The Firelights were her target and most are dead.”
At Silco’s dismissive tone, Sevika huffed and slammed her drink down, “It wasn’t a mishap, she froze up and lost her shit.” Vi watched as the woman pointed her way. Acknowledgement of her rare fault led Vi to drop and clench her fists. She wanted to defend herself, to explain, but Silco raised an empty hand to stop her without even taking a glance backwards. Due to the lack of interruption, Sevika continued, “I could’ve handled those brats. She’s a problem and we all know it.”
Those last words perked up both her ears and Silco’s. Finally he turned to Sevika, sharp eyes locked on her, “Who’s we?” The air inside the office suddenly felt thick with anticipation. This was an answer Vi wanted just as much as Silco did, yet she knew it would go unanswered. Sevika knew better than to continue. “I expected better from you than excuses. It was your job to make sure things went smoothly. You failed. Don’t disappoint me again.” Satisfied with the conversation, Silco turned back to his papers, spinning in his chair until the back was turned- silently dismissing Sevika.
The taller woman grunted and stood to walk out, shoving her way past Vi before closing the door shut. With just the two of them alone now, Vi lingered in the shadows of the doorway, waiting for something. Anything. In truth, she’s hardly ever frozen up like that during a fight and to explain the exact reason why? That would be the toughest hurdle.
"The world's growing smaller every day, thanks to the Hexgates," Oh a lecture. Sometimes Silco's lectures were a bore but she appreciated one now as long as it allowed her to avoid the main issue. "And now, we're cut off. The topsiders are leaving us further and further behind."
What Silco was saying was true. Their smuggling task today was meant to expand their export of shimmer; an attempt to stay up to date with Piltover's export. They remained unmatched thus far and it only drove Silco to push her further. Not that Vi would complain, she was built for this- she could handle it all for him. Silco took her in when the world was collapsing around her, this is the least she could do.
“What happened?” Silco finally asked after some excruciating moments of silence. Vi watched him drop the papers on the desk in favor of bringing up the shimmer needle, playing with it as he waited for her response.
“She already told you,” Vi’s words lacked their usual confidence, vowing now to step slowly further into the room, her arms back to being crossed at her chest. The green glow from the window casted a long shadow that reached from Silco’s chair to her feet. To admit failure is a cruel thing in these times.
“I’m asking you.”
For a beat, Vi’s breath got caught in her throat, in the next beat she found herself sitting on Silco’s desk, setting her weight down so rough the papers flew off the desk. One foot rested on the arm of his chair as the other tapped on the ground. She sighed, using a hand to shift her hair back into its usual place. “One of those Firelights was a girl… with blue hair.” The words themselves would mean nothing to anyone else, but there was this heavy understanding between them that seemed to squeeze her heart in all the worst ways.
Silco hummed quietly, taking a moment before he turned on the chair and offered up the needle. She took it carefully, examining the tool she’s grown all too familiar with. With continued expectation, Vi slid off the desk and leaned close, using one hand to hold Silco’s head in place as the other positioned the needle over the damaged eye. “Your sister’s gone. You know that as well as I do.”
Of course she knew this, it wasn't hard to forget. “Right, no I know. I mean, sisters… Can’t bring em’ back from the dead,” Vi huffed and let out a dry laugh, leaning back and looking into the needle herself. “Would you even want to, right?” She laughed again, more so to hide the sincerity of her question.
“Today’s screw-up will set us back weeks. I need to know I can rely on you.” Vi’s mind had wandered too far astray as she fumbled with the needle. Silco however, took hold of her wrist, snapping her back into attention. His patience had met its limit. “I’m doing this for us, Violet. All of us. The sons and daughters of Zaun deserve more than Piltover’s runoff.”
Vi’s eyes scanned over them both, calculating. The firm hand on her wrist, the uncomfortably warm air between them, even the creak of the chair. Silco let go of her wrist and leaned back with a grunt, leaving her to do the rest. Mention of their end goal almost always ignited that flame in her veins again, he knew how to strike that match rather easily- how to turn her past into ignition for the unmatched weapon she’s become. “It won’t happen again,” Vi all but whispered.
At last, she repositioned the needle against his eye and took a deep breath. Silco responded with an “I know” and that was enough acceptance. Vi activated the needle and watched as the shimmer disappeared into his retina with a hiss.
Silco groaned and slumped over on his chair, gritting his teeth and letting a muffled curse escape his lips. The needle was carefully set back on the desk and Vi shoved her hands into her pockets- eyes devoid of any real thought. She didn’t want to be here, she didn’t want to have fucked up at the smuggle job today, and she sure as hell didn’t want to let people think she was weak.
With regained composure, Silco smoothed over his hair but remained with an averted gaze. “Sevika will clean up today’s mess.” That surely brought Vi back into the present, slamming her hands down causing a pen to jump.
“Sevika?! After what she just said-” Vi stopped herself with a groan, turning her back and pacing to the other side of the desk. “I don’t know why you even keep her around when you have me.”
“Sevika is older, she harbors more experience, and she’ll suffice for this job. You should focus on your training. Take some time.”
With a scoff of disbelief, Vi turned back to him, hands planted firmly on the desk. Almost as if she was begging to be taken seriously. “I don’t need to focus on my fighting, I need to be out there getting in some real punches. I can fix this, I need to fix this, not 'time'”
“Take some anyhow.”
There was no fighting this and Vi knew that. Regardless, she could always choose not to listen to him and yet the anger from his command was enough to get her marching out of the office. Vi hurried back downstairs, snagging another drink from the bar on the way. She pulled out a few papers stolen from topside which advertised Progress Day. It was supposed to be perfect, the mission was almost flawless. All the Pilties would be distracted on their big day… and yet she froze up and lost it. Over what? Some stupid flaw of vision.
“You really need to leave me alone,” Vi muttered, leaning her back against the couch as she sat on the floor, the papers splayed out in front of her on the coffee table as a reminder of her failure. She had to fix this, prove her place at Silco’s side and make Piltover know she’s still in control. Without any more hesitation, Vi turned to a dark corner of the room, the corner that held a number of Powder’s old gadgets. She had tried tinkering with some of them, which she was able to turn into something useful with the help of some stolen literature. There was never any prior need for that tech, her punches did most of the talking, but maybe now is the time for progress.
“It wasn’t you.” Vi jumped up from her place and began to pace around the room. “It was some wannabe savior.” A stray scrap of metal was kicked off to the side as she stepped towards the punching bag. “Of course it wasn’t her, it just wasn’t.” She met the punching bag with a heavy left hook, followed up with a set of punches so determined that the bag itself doubled over.
“I know. I got confused, that was it. And now,” Vi bit down hard on her lower lip, enough to draw a pool of blood, “Now he thinks I’m weak. ‘Sevika will clean it up, she’s got more experience’”
Now that the punching bag was demoted to the ground, Vi opted to land a solid kick to its side with a growl. Another kick and another until she was saddled over the punching bag making contact with her fists again- a mess of growls, heavy breaths, and thuds. “I’m not weak.” With each hit, pieces of this scattered puzzle fell into place in her mind. It was still Progress Day, there was still time to make another move. The punches slowed and her chest stilled with a sudden clarity, eyes darting to the dark corner of the room. “I'm going to show him.”
Smiling eagerly , Vi scrambled from atop the punching bag and hurried to the box of Powder’s old gadgets. “Oh I’m gonna show him. You’ll see.”
—————————————————
The fire, the bombs, the voiceover. It was all perfect. Seeing those enforcers try to put out the fire, struggling to control such a force of power she’d conjured up. The enforcers didn't even know what to do, who wouldn't want to save a little girl from a burning building. Certainly not that Enforcer with the royal blue hair, she was the first on scene. Though she did figure things out pretty quickly, credit where credit is due, just not fast enough to avoid being blown several yards. Vi was still surprised she survived all that. Not that the life of one enforcer matters, Vi was more focused on how well she was able to execute everything. Pride was a blinding thing.
Vi had returned home that night with more pep in her step than was safe for anyone in Zaun. She had made her way back to her room, stripped down just to her street clothes, and began training as music blasted from the player. Upstairs the bar had already winded down plenty and it’s not like anyone would dare complain about the noise coming from the room.
Each connection that her fist made with the punching bag sent a jolt of pleasure through her entire body. Her southpaw stance allowed her left arm to do all the heavy punches while her right arm dealt all the short jabs, which she occasionally timed with the music to keep it challenging.
“Violet.”
She shifted her feet forward and backward, staying on the balls of her feet to get a better bounce. Right, right, left, right, left, right and a heavy punch on the last left of the setup. Vi shook her hands to ease the sting coursing throughout her knuckles with a chuckle, the sweat dripped from her forehead and past her grin.
“Violet!”
Her whole body felt hot, as if it was burning just like that building she had blown up. God what an execution. Vi was just glad she was able to make the electronics work properly, she guessed she did pick some things up from Powder before she died.
“Violet! Vi!”
Another set of punches and this time they caused her shoulders to ache, breaths growing heavier by the second. Yet the ache drove her further, at least until the music stopped abruptly with a loud thud. “Violet!” Silco’s voice then emerged from the former chaos.
“That’s me,” Vi spun around on her feet, still bouncing in her boxing stance. She watched as Silco approached with a trail of blazing anger, his arms swinging madly in the air.
“Half a dozen enforcers, dead. Enforcers. Dead!” Vi simply nodded, because of course. That was the whole point. Her hair jumped up and down against her face with each bounce of her feet. “A building blown to bits!” Again, Vi nodded, her grin staying steady as she turned halfway back towards the punching bag and landed a few more blows.
Fed up, Silco grabbed onto her nearest wrist and ripped the wrapping right off. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” The sincerity of Silco’s anger sunk its claws around her finally, leading Vi to drop her fists. She examined his disheveled face for a moment, such a rare sight, before wiping the sweat from her forehead.
“I do, actually,” Vi slowly walked past him and dug her hand under the old mattress. She held up the dim glowing gemstone between her thumb and pointer finger, pride seeping through every pore of her being, even more so as Silco’s eyes widened. The silence that grew between them was new, something hopeful and exciting.
Vi allowed Silco to take the gem into his own hands to examine and the look of mere awe was enough indication for Vi that she succeeded. “Happy Progress Day!” She exclaimed, expanding her arms out with a grin. A hug was expected, or at least Vi figured it was the appropriate way to celebrate, instead Silco took her face into his palm- firm but gentle. Vi couldn’t help but sink her cheek into the touch. Gentle touches were a commodity around here and she'd take any that came her way. Silco said nothing, just stared between her eyes and the gemstone. Expressions of love or appreciation had never been his strong suit, but Vi understood. She did well.
Caitlyn
“I think whoever is responsible for the attack at the square is our suspect. The single mind responsible for all the violence that stems from the undercity.” Caitlyn explained as Jayce watched intently, his understanding catching up with his fleeting confusion. She’d mapped it all out on the floor of her room as the “get well” flowers piled up to the side. There was nothing more important than figuring this out. “The same symbols showed up from the botched smuggling operation at the Hexgates.”
“The Hexgates?”
“Yes, keep up. Most of their attacks are localized to the undercity, small and mostly quiet, low priority. But the attack at the square… It changes things. They’ve overstepped,” Caitlyn rearranged one of the printed photos, the one they’d taken of the recurring symbol. It appeared to represent a mask with pipes veering off from the center and a set of dog ears up on top. Her eyes narrowed in on all the details laid out before them. “If I can figure out who did this, It could lead me directly to whoever’s behind it all.”
Jayce hummed, looking over the same details with a different perspective. “Are you going to present this to the council? You know they need more than theories.” He chuckled but something in his demeanor expanded beyond well-meaning curiosity.
“Since when do you concern yourself with the dealings of the council?”
He paused, just for a moment, catching her eyes as she smiled, “Since I became one.” At that Caitlyn could only giggle, at least until she realized he wasn’t joking. “I was actually hoping you’d join my staff.”
Caitlyn found herself presented with an offer to become a member of the House Talis security staff. A ceremonial position that almost guaranteed she’d never see action on the field again. The scoff she let out was unintentional but certainly granted, “I’d live behind a desk if I accept this…”
“You almost died, Cait. I just, I want you to be safe-”
“Thanks, but I already have a job,” fed up, Caitlyn shoved the paper back onto Jayce’s arms and stepped closer to her clues. Though when her counterpart fell silent behind her, it seemed that things were not yet done.
“...No, you don’t. After the attack, your parents spoke with the sheriff,” Of course, much like her parents to go behind her back on this matter. “This was the best I could do.”
Why was it that everyone thought they could make decisions for her, that they could decide what was best and what was good enough. “I don’t need charity, Councilor. Yours or my parents. Get out.”
Jayce tried to argue but his words fell on deaf ears. Caitlyn had turned all her attention back onto the map of evidence, eyes narrow as this former conversation ran through her mind. Her eyes locked on a picture of Stillwater, where the Zaunite she found injured on the blimp had been sent to. Bingo.
It didn’t take long to reach Stillwater given the number of fake go-aheads she forged under Jayce’s jurisdiction. She’d been allowed to speak with inmate 2315 despite the Warden’s insistence that he wouldn’t talk.
“You were hit with friendly fire, who was it?” Caitlyn asked as she stood in front of the cell. She held onto her folder of information, eager to see what kind of new bits she could add to it.
“To put it frankly kid, if I speak on this, I either never get out or I get killed when I do.”
While there was an understanding of what the inmate had said, Caitlyn was more insistent on getting him to talk, not to let the matter rest out of fear. There was too much on the line, “No one will know. I just need the name and whereabouts of whoever was responsible for the smuggling and the explosion at the square.”
“Explosion?” The inmate seemed surprised, reinforcing her belief that this was an unexpected upscale in violence. “Look, I don’t know.”
“They already turned on you once, if I can bring them down, you won’t have to worry about the safety of your life moving forward. So what will it be?” Caitlyn brought her file closer to her chest and straightened her posture. To have confidence is one thing, to show it was another.
To her pleasure, the inmate sighed but stood from his place within the cell. “Silco knows of most attacks, he orders them himself. Don’t know what he has to do with any explosions topside, but that’s all I can think of.”
“You mean the industrialist?” Information on Silco had always been pretty scarce. It felt like his files at the precinct were left neglected, no one could give her much information on him. The inmate nodded, rubbing a hand over his hairless and tattooed head.
“He’s got this mutt to do all his bidding for him. That’s who messed us up on the smuggling, I'd be more careful with The Hound than Silco himself,” He scoffed and adjusted his jaw as if in discomfort. A dog… Caitlyn wondered why a hound sounded so familiar until she opened her folder and saw that symbol. The mask with the pipes and the dog ears. She pulled out the picture and put it forth to be examined, “You mean this hound?”
While it may have been subdued through an attempt to appear tough, Caitlyn saw the shock and disdain on the inmate’s face upon seeing the symbol. It was all she needed. With a bit more patience and reassurance, she was able to get some vague information on where to find Silco but the inmate’s generosity had already begun to run thin. All she knew was to head to the undercity and find a bar.
Getting to the undercity itself would be easy too, their borders, if you could even call it that, were easily accessible from topside. Aside from most topsiders having little reason to venture down into the Lanes. All Caitlyn had to do was prepare and head there with a good excuse. Her mother had been busy with her council duties as of late and her father gave little mind to her daily whereabouts making this mission easy to execute.
Caitlyn pulled her hair into a ponytail, put on her covert uniform, and grabbed her rifle before making the journey down. Steering away from the usual uniform proved to be a good enough idea as none of the locals really batted an eye. Even if Caitlyn did do her best to stick to the shadows. She passed shops and food stands, somewhat surprised by the undercity’s controlled chaos. Having always lived in Piltover, they’re led to believe there’s a brawl every few feet, and that is not what Caitlyn was seeing here.
After a while, it felt useless to linger, it was just a bunch of people living their lives. Sure she saw someone fighting over scraps and another group of kids stealing food, but this part she knew to expect. There were so many bars too, how was she meant to find the correct one? Everything aside, air was the greatest challenge, it was thicker here, warmer. Not enough to deter her.
While making her way through an alley, Caitlyn overheard two men speaking over a fruit stand. One waved around an apple impaled by a knife as the other ate his normally.
“You heard of the fight tonight? The Hound is making a reappearance,” The man with the knife spoke, took a bite, then pointed it at the other man.
“Heard it more than I’d like to. Oy we all know the Hound wins every time, where’s the fun in that?”
The two laughed amongst each other, unaware of Caitlyn who pressed herself against the damp wall of the alley. The trash can beside her had a stench so strong it was making her eyes water but she kept her attention fixed.
“Besides mate, there’s always some jerk wads who fight over the bets or try to replicate the fight themselves. There’s always trouble and the Hound just walks off.”
There was silence for a moment and that’s when Caitlyn decided to peek her head over slightly to get a better look. She saw the men staring at each other until the one with the knife flicked the apple off and pointed it at the other.
“We could just replicate the fight here ourselves without needing to pay to watch the Hound fight first,” He laughed and allowed the other man to push him away.
“Right yeah, but it is always a fun night. They give free beer sometimes… I do always make my money back too. Betting on The Hound is a guaranteed money maker,” Silence again, except this time Caitlyn knows what’s next. The two shove each other as they stand and make their way through the streets.
She was careful to not follow too closely but just close enough to ensure they’re not lost amongst the crowd. After a good ten minutes of wandering, Caitlyn followed the two men to a decrepit building. It didn’t seem like much from the outside, but the cheering that erupted from below the ground was enough to prove there was more than meets the eyes.
Getting inside would be too risky despite offering greater insight, so Caitlyn decided to stay out and scope the scene from a nearby rooftop. She laid on her stomach with the scope of her rifle set up for better viewing. From this angle, she was able to see the kinds of people in attendance, some dressed better than others and a wealth displacement became quite apparent.
Outside there were people handing out bright red papers in exchange for coin as well as a green paper, though people seemed to place their coin on the former without a second thought. In about an hour, the influx of people had slowed while the sound below grew. It became so loud in fact she could hear the announcer from the rooftop, albeit a bit muffled by earth and cheering.
“Down on the pit, we have the one and only, the unmatched force of this pit, the heart of Zaun- the Hound of the Undercity! She’s all bite, folks!”
Applause and cheering caused the ground to rumble, leaving Caitlyn at the edge of her seat to see who this Hound of the Undercity was. Whoever it was liked to keep their appearance to a minimum tonight. There was no one Caitlyn saw walk in that could even come close to her expectations. This had to be some nasty burly individual, as tall and muscular as a bull. With the way people spoke of this Hound, she couldn’t afford to expect anything less.
Moments later the bell of the match rang. Caitlyn had gotten too in her head to hear who the other opponent was but it didn’t seem like they were worth the trouble. It was maybe two minutes before the bell rang again and the fight was over. The cheering was unimaginable and despite the announcer introducing more fighters, people began to pour out of the building- satisfied by the fight they came for.
Aside from it all, Caitlyn learned nothing other than the Hounds likeability in the ring. She huffed and readjusted her position, hugging the rifle tighter as she prayed for any sign of the Hound itself. There was no going home empty handed. Caitlyn might struggle to get directly to Silco but this Hound could be her way in, the undercity was getting bold and so she should return the favor. Pluck their star right out of the sky.
Caitlyn was growing restless. None of these people were her target and right as she moved to leave, a car sped up towards the entrance with a screech. Some screamed and cursed at the recklessness while others gathered around to watch. Whatever was happening was important and Caitlyn readied her rifle once more.
The car left a trail of green smoke that choked anybody behind, slowly engulfing the entirety of the car itself. From within the building came out a masked individual surrounded by two brawny men, likely bodyguards, who escorted the individual towards the car. A group of people followed behind chanting, barking, and howling. She’s got it.
Caitlyn hurriedly packed her rifle and threw it onto her back; she couldn’t lose this car. She jumped over the edge of the rooftop and slid down through a pipe until her feet hit solid ground. Rather than veer into the main street, Caitlyn stayed in the alleys and followed the car through gaps of vision. The green smoke couldn’t reach her and this way no one would question the chase.
It seemed to be going so well, she had it in her sight, until she didn’t. The car all but disappeared, smoke and all. Caitlyn leaned against the corner of the wall shrouded in shadows, just her head peeking out towards the street. Where could it possibly have gone? There were no diverging streets here, it was a straight narrow road. Caitlyn groaned to herself and kicked a nearby can hard enough it bounced against the wall.
“Mad you missed the show?” The voice all but creeped against her back, brushing past her ear light enough to make her shiver. It was thick and sounded almost… metallic? Caitlyn began to turn towards the sound but a cold press of metal against her exposed neck led her to freeze. “I didn’t say you’d get to see a reenactment.”
“Who are you?” Caitlyn managed out, her fear drowned by her training. She could be shot here and now- no one topside would ever know about it.
“Is that what you’re trying to figure out? Scoping out my scene all night, following my car… I know I have fans but none this obsessed” The individual behind let out what she assumed was a laugh though the hissing of air muffled most of it.
The Hound. It beat her to the race she didn’t know they were running. “Don’t flatter yourself,” Caitlyn hissed, flinching as a hand patted against her side trying to unbuckled the rifle from her back. Losing her gun would guarantee losing this interaction. She dipped forward and twisted, swatting the gun away from herself before bringing them face to face. Though she might have underestimated her opponent. Before she even had time to recognize there was no one ahead, her feet were swept off the floor and her back hit the wet ground.
“Now why did you think that would work?” The Hound huffed, stepping over her body and pointing a pistol at her head. When Caitlyn responded with nothing but grunts and huffs, The Hound dropped their shoulders and sighed. “Come on, I want to go home and drink to celebrate my win tonight. Why are you here, what do you want… blah blah blah.”
“You attacked our square last night,” Caitlyn accused, gritting her teeth as one of her wandering hands was pinned beneath The Hounds boot, “And you stole something that wasn’t yours.”
The individual above her nodded like she was listing accomplishments and not charges. But then, they stopped and leaned down closer. If the mask didn’t hide their eyes Caitlyn was sure she’d be able to see a narrow gaze staring right back at her. Whatever they were trying to figure out would need to wait, Caitlyn used the proximity as an opening and jabbed her knee up hard enough to land a hit against The Hound’s chin. It knocked the mask clean off.
The Hound stumbled backwards, grasping at their exposed face and searching for the mask. They had lost grip of the pistol during the commotion and left just enough time for Caitlyn to jump up and steady her feet before reaching for her own pistol. However it was not enough time to aim it before it was swiftly kicked out of her hands. The Hound moved with a certain speed that seemed impossible considering their heavy set stance and landed a solid punch square against the side of her face.
Now, Caitlyn’s been punched before. She’s been through the academy training, sure, but this punch landed like a ton of bricks being thrown from a moving car. She fell against the wall behind her, managed to spar another punch and missed the next.
“Enough fun, okay? I’m tired,” The Hound huffed but rather than finding annoyance, Caitlyn heard a sick pleasure in their tone. She was roughly turned around, cheek pressed against the wall, as she felt rope being wrapped around her wrists and arms. Her rifle was taken and thrown to the side; there was an attempt to squirm away from The Hound's grasp but it was firmly planted.
When they were satisfied with their tie-up job, The Hound turned back around and pushed Caitlyn to her knees. “What’re you going to do? If you kill me every enforcer topside will come down here searching for me.”
“So you’re important, is what you’re saying,” The Hound sounded unamused, looking around and finding the discarded rifle. They walked towards it, picking it up like a prize before stepping back in front of her. “This is a nice gun, topside gets all the cool stuff, huh?”
“Leave it alone.”
“Or…” The Hound unfolded the rifle, cocked it and aimed it at her once more. “We could finally understand what you want.”
In this position, Caitlyn could see The Hound for who they really were. Pink hair fell over blue eyes and freckled cheeks. The buzzed side appeared slightly overgrown and their eyebrow was slit by a vertical scar. It was now that Caitlyn realized they weren’t all that large either, strong sure, but not nearly what she expected. “ You’re The Hound?”
The question managed to throw The Hound off their game, brows furrowed and posture straightened. She looked over herself as if the question was absurd before locking eyes with Caitlyn, “And you’re the enforcer I blew up. Small world. Now answer my question.”
Silence fell between the two as Caitlyn racked her brain for a way out of this situation. There wasn’t much she could say that would just convince The Hound to let her walk free. Not now. Caitlyn looked around for anything that could be of use, ignoring the question presented to her in favor of a new plan. Her ignorance would be met unfavorably when The Hound groaned and took hold of her chin, snapping Caitlyn’s gaze back onto her. “I can leave you here to untie yourself as I go home with an answer, or I could bring you with me and let you become someone else’s problem. What’ll it be?”
Caitlyn winced at the hand that gripped her cheeks, and for just a moment, she swore the sound caused the hand to loosen up ever so slightly. The Hound gave her two options, whether they’d stick to it was one thing, but Caitlyn had to choose. “I came here for you. You made a lot of noise topside and I’m your way out of a lot more trouble.”
The Hound tilted her head slowly, examining every inch of her face, and let go of her chin. Then, the rifle was dropped to the ground as she leaned against the opposite wall, “It’s cute you think I need your help,” She crossed her arms and flashed Caitlyn a sweet smile, “But look, I have everything under control here, so you can crawl back up whatever hole you came through and leave the rest of us alone.”
“It won’t work that way-“
“You’re a Kiramman, right?”
The interruption was abrupt, spoken as matter-of-fact rather than the question it was framed as. Caitlyn swallowed hard, she didn’t want anyone down here to know but it seems that ship had already sailed. “What’s it to you?”
“Nothing, really. It would just be a shame for a member of the Council to lose their only daughter. Oh man, you topsiders would lose your shit,” The Hound laughed, shoulders bouncing with each giggle. Caitlyn spotted sharp canines through the open smile accompanied by another scar on the top lip. Her street name got more fitting by the second.
Caitlyn might not know The Hound all that well aside from her rampant reputation, but she knew stupidity wasn’t proper characterization here. This was an empty threat, killing her would rage unnecessary conflict and there was no intent within The Hounds tone. “Can I ask why you’re still entertaining this? Most others would beat me up and call it a night, what makes you different?”
“What makes you different?” The Hound’s response was quick, erasing the laughter and joy right off her own face. She pushed herself off the wall and kneeled in front of Caitlyn, having their eyes meet once more. Caitlyn had to admit that from everything she’d heard about this so-called Hound, soft eyes were not on the list. She even felt comforted for a moment, which Caitlyn herself couldn’t believe let alone explain it to anyone else. Just as quickly as she had approached, The Hound backed off and stepped away to search for their mask.
Caitlyn merely watched as she peeled the mask off the ground and attached it back to her face, throwing a hood over it. The Hound moved onto her pistol next, spinning it on her finger as she began to walk away. She craned her neck back to give Caitlyn one last look, hooked the pistol away, and shoved her hands into her pockets, “Go home, Kiramman.”
Before Caitlyn could say anything else, The Hound had disappeared behind the corner. She was left to her own devices and aside from being tied up, Caitlyn realized the knots weren’t even that tight. With a few squirms the rope fell to the ground and allowed her to retrieve her rifle, checking it for any scuffs and sighing at the sight of her house’s symbol etched in the wood. Of course. The Hound had an upper hand now, she knew her, knew her family and it wouldn’t take a genius to learn where the estate is. Caitlyn just needed to get to The Hound before the roles were flipped.
A few feet away she spotted her pistol, though upon approaching it, she noticed it wasn’t hers at all. It had red ink splattered all over it- words and symbols- the same that was drawn at the square attack. The Hound switched them. Truthfully it didn’t matter much but the question of whether it was an accident or not tugged at her mind. The hunt will continue for another day.
Vi
Vi walked home the rest of the way, rethinking the interaction moments before. That enforcer with the royal blue hair, why would she be down here? She figured the woman was just another enforcer, not some bounty hunter. Her experience in fighting lacked real challenge, it wasn’t fun for Vi, but her words… The way the woman spoke with true intention, not fear or volatile threats, it swirled around in Vi’s mind. Maybe there was a lesson to be learned there.
The attack on the square was bold, it had to be. But there are no actions without equal and opposite reactions, topside didn’t just lose enforcers and a gemstone, they lost control. She knows they’ll be eager to get it back. It was late now and Vi just wanted a drink, a shower, and a comfortable bed. Most of which she got in peace except for when the moment to sleep arrived.
Silco barged into the room, a drink of his own in hand, and sat on the couch beside her. Vi had just finished drying off and putting on some clothes, confused on the reason for his visit. “Another win tonight,” he sipped slow on his glass, rubbing a hand on his knee now that his gaze turned to Vi, “Sevika told me you were being followed.” Oh.
She sifted a hand through the damp hair and sighed, throwing the used towel to a corner of dirty clothes, “Yeah, I took care of it.”
The drink was set down as Silco leaned forward on his seat, nodding with a contrasting tone of disapproval. “Except, where is the girl now?”
”I couldn’t bring her in. She’s one of them, I hurt a hair on her head and enforcers will come full force-“
”You already gave them reason to head down here. You need to weaponize the hextech and soon. I had Marcus let the Firelights take the fall for your attack on the square, but it won’t save us forever.” Aside from starting off strong, Silco’s words mellowed out into something more caring; more pliable. He stared intently at her, waiting for any kind of response, but all Vi could do is cross her arms- head held low.
They’ve done this dance before. Silco stood and walked up to her, using a gentle hand to lift Vi’s head up, his understanding gaze urged her to speak, “The hextech stuff… that would be Powder’s field I- I can’t. Just give it to the doctor.” Vi tried to turn her head away and Silco let her but stayed close, his presence turning from comforting to to something more complicated. Something calculated.
“You’re the only one I can trust with this, Violet.“
Aiming to peel away from this interaction, Vi turned herself away fully and clutched tightly to her own arms. “I keep seeing them, that day. If I had just-“
The interruption came by way of contact- a hand on her shoulder. Silco had pressed his thumb down against her skin and turned her back around, “Fear haunts us all, Child.” His hand lowered with an open palm, feathering over her exposed arm until it reached her hand. An invitation to be taken as he led them out of the room.
Vi found herself back at the polluted waters surrounding Zaun, Silco ahead of her and the starry sky above them both. “I almost drowned in these waters,” Silco dipped his hand down, submerging thin fingers into the water before pulling them out complacently.
“So you’ve told me. A million times,” Vi’s arms remained crossed, her body all but rejected the water, hiding her shivering as thunder roared in the distance.
“Vander wasn’t the man you thought he was.”
”Right, he was like a brother to you and he turned his back…” Admittedly, a part of her always hurts to say such things about Vander. She knew Silco was right, he’d explained everything to her that day. Vander had been meddling with the enforcers, betraying the ideals of their nation, succumbing to the topsiders. Vander had grown weak and he tried to kill Silco for trying to keep up the fight. Still, deep down, Vi couldn’t shake the kindness Vander had always presented to her. His heart. “Did I miss anything?”
Silco snickered at that, a smirk growing on his face, “I’ve got a new one for you,” he turned his back, letting his hands drift along the water now that he stepped away, “That day, I let a weak man die.”
In the darkness of the night, only the moon allowed Vi to watch as Silco calmly disappeared into the water. When he reemerged, he made it a point to slick back his hair and careened a finger down the side of his damaged face. “And another was reborn. Betrayal, that pain that feels like it’ll eat you from the inside out, can either break you or forge you into something greater.”
He’s right, Vi dropped her arms and clenched her fists. “You need to let them die, for good. So the fear of pain will no longer control you,” His outstretched hands welcomed her close, thunder nearing the two as Silco continued, “You’re stronger now, just like I always knew you’d be.”
As his hands snaked from her own down to her elbows, Vi allowed herself to slowly dip back. The water calmly clawed at every fiber of her flesh, so thick it basically swallowed her into its embrace. It went up to her ears, her cheeks, her lips, and the tip of her nose, until there was nothing left to devour. She had to let them die, everyone else knew they were gone, so why couldn’t she see that. Vi knew she wasn’t the daughter Silco wanted, but she was strong, useful, and loyal. He needed her and that was enough for now. It had to be enough.
Powder and Vander won’t hold her back any longer. The hextech will be weaponized. That Kiramman girl will be dealt with. The Hound of the Undercity has found a new scent to follow.