Zaun, three years later
It's been a long few years since she left. Depression had taken hold within the past year, and as she looked at the City of Progress from the plateau where she first set out on her own, Vi sighed. Zaun has been making her sick lately. The pollution in the air left her sick quite often, and the smog made the city gray and uninviting. She still stuck to her life of crime, but only stole from other criminals in the slums. After that day in the mines, she cut herself off from the crew. She hasn't seen them since. Which was good. They probably would've betrayed her for abandoning them, but maybe there was honor among them.
Maybe.
She kept those claws from the mines; they gave her a unique advantage to her life of pilfering and stealing. They were difficult to adjust, so she often left them in an abandoned warehouse while she stole parts and tools from various places in Zaun. Over the past three years she's modified them to fit her quite nicely. She replaced the claws with actual finger like ones and set them to mimic her own hand movements while she wore them. They replaced her normal hands for giant wall breaking monsters, in which she relished the ability to fuck up some other criminal's day by breaking and stealing their stuff. It was an outlet for her anger and self-hatred that she bottled inside.
The past few months had been exceptionally hard, and Vi decided she needed something new. Piltover wasn't ideal; she didn't want anything to do with the place that robbed her of a decent night's sleep and a next meal. But that was the best option she had. So, that morning, she had set out from Zaun and by sunset, she had made it to the mining facility she had robbed those years ago. The sun was setting behind her and it shone against the buildings in the distance. She breathed in the air, much cleaner and Vi could feel the freshness of it in her lungs. Clean and cool.
She followed a dirt road to a highway and followed that into the city, the sun slowly being replaced by the night stars. The night life on this side of town was rich. She bet criminals here would be active. She'd find them.
As she walked, she caught stares of various upper class people walking around, often uninviting. It hurt her heart a bit, but she knew they were twats anyway. Looked up at the tall buildings, glittering in the night, probably filled with oddly shaped drinking glasses and soft music while the rich people told lies about themselves.
She continued on through the city, until she made it to the industrial side of the city. It was very late now, and cops would most likely be patrolling for anyone suspicious on the streets. She would most likely fit that bill, considering she stood out with her pink hair and giant gauntlets on her back.
Warehouses lined the street she walked on, and she found her people in the alleys between them, drunk, and most likely stoned from drugs. Their cackles and moans disappeared down the alleys Vi passed by until she found an alley that seemed completely empty. It was fairly well lit, so she walked down. There were two doors leading into the buildings on either side of her. Both were locked, but the lock on the door to her left seemed older and easier to pick. So she set her things next to that door and inspected it.
Yep. It was an old hex lock. They had been produced over a decade ago, but they started dying out as more complicated locks were invented. She easily picked it and the door needed some force before it would open. It was stuck, and it creaked loudly as it swung open into a dark room. It smelled old and dusty. This place probably hasn't seen any light in a long time. So, she decided to make it her home.
As she picked up her things, she heard a car drive by, and as she looked up, she just barely made out a police symbol on the side. She froze, and listened as the engine didn't die away like most cars would.
Shit.
She threw her things inside the door as the car pulled up to the alleyway again, she was just barely inside before the cop could see her. She shoved the door closed, and it stuck to the frame. She pressed her back against the door, her senses on full alert. Silence fell and she heard a car door slam. Her heart raced in her chest; she forced her breathing to slow down so she couldn't make any more noise than she already had. She readied her fists in case the cop could open the door. She didn't want to kill a cop. She just wanted to be left to herself.
She could her the footsteps outside the door. They stopped. She heard scuffling of boots and the shuffling of things in the alley as the cop searched for signs of her. They stopped again, just outside her door. She held her breath, and felt a push against the door, but she didn't budge. She would make the door seem stuck on its hinges. She waited some more, and was met with silence. The footsteps moved again, and she heard the opposite door creak under pressure. More silence, then the cop walked back to the still running car, the boots and engine dying away into the night.
Vi let out her breath again, sighing in relief. She relaxed, her muscles sore from being so tense.
"Who's there?" A voice called out.
"Someone else is here?" Another replied.
"Yeah, they broke the lock." The first voice said again. It sounded like a child.
"Well we gotta kill 'em." The second voice said. A light flicked to life in a corner, lighting the faces of a little girl and a slightly older girl, maybe fifteen.
Vi just stared.
"You're weird looking." The older one said. "Too bad I have to kill you now."
