AN- Firstly, my 8-month-old kitten would like to say "45555555 55555555555555 5555555558156666 66666666666666666666644444444444444444444444444444444444444444='/ ". Secondly, this fic and its ideas are all WG Karibu's fault. Thirdly, where, in your lovely folks' opinions is the best place to post an original story? Fourthly, thank you to all of those who have been reading the train crash of a fic. I love you all dearly and your unending support is making it super easy to write this. So without any further adieu, choo choo all aboard the feels train.
{Grandson-Apologize}
The smile she wore from ear to ear, was almost an exact description of cheshire as she sprayed round after round into the concrete rubble.
"Oh Fathannnnnndsss! Come out and say hello to my friends of varying sizes!" She cackled in a sing song tone.
Vi on the other end of the abused rubble grit her teeth. She has definitely seen better days, had hangovers that mostly felt better than this. "Voids above." She snarled. "Cait, I'm fucking begging you here, d'ya mind putting her down before I end up in a six foot diameter crater, please and thank you with a cherry on top."
The radio piece in her ear crackled. " She has me pinned as much as she has you pinned. I don't know how-" Caitlyn took a moment to hiss at the shrapnel wound in her side. She held onto it tightly, cursing Viktor for the upgrades he had given the bluette. "We need to distract her long enough for me to get up and find a new place. She's been tracking me. I believe it's heat signature or something to that effect. I can't really tell with that piece over her eye."
"How are you holding up? You're not sounding so hot there. " Vi asked through a strained worried voice.
"I'm fine." Caitlyn lied. "Just a bit shaken."
"You're a fucking liar, Cait." Vi snarled. "Hold on. I can probably buy us some time. I'll be over in a jiffy."
"No, Vi. If you can keep her distracted I'll be able to line up a shot, and we can get her in custody." The sheriff ordered.
"I don't fucking like that." The brawler replied as she dove out of the way toward another safe spot before her original hiding spot fell apart from the abuse. She slammed her shoulder, using it as a way to stop her body's inertia and gave a slur of vulgar curses as she rolled it to comfort the sting. A slew of bullet/rockets came her way followed by a case of maniacal laughing. "I'm giving you 2 minutes, Cupcake. If I don't see you anywhere, I'm never gonna forgive you."
"I'm on the move," Caitlyn replied coldly as she focused herself solely on getting up. Using the butt of her rifle, she pushed herself onward. "Bloody hell." She muttered through her teeth. This was going to require some crazy amounts of will power and determination.
"Do you want to play tag, fat hands?" Jinx called over the roar of her rocket machine gun. Her eyepiece locked in on the metal signature of Vi's gauntlets. This was easier than shooting snipe rats in a barrel of fish. Or was it the other way around?
She didn't care, she was having too much fun.
"I don't wanna play if you're cheating!" Vi called over her hiding spot, hoping that this would work.
"What do you mean? "Jinx asked, ending her tirade of rocket blasts. "I'm not cheating!" She stomped her foot.
"Seems like you are to me," Vi replied, keeping her eyes on roofs of the somewhat surviving standing buildings.
C'mon, Cait. Don't make me regret this.
"I am not cheating!" Jinx screeched. Angry hot tears began to stream down her hollow cheeks.
"Then what is that thing over your eye?!" Vi argued from her hiding spot. "It lets you see things that you normally can't, right?"
Jinx gasped theatrically. "Fat hands you're supposed to be dumb!"
"And you're supposed to be playing by yourself and not with mean bullies like Viktor!"
"Metal man is not a mean bully, you and hat lady are meanie hall monitor doughnut munching piggies!" The bluette hotly screamed back.
"Yeah, fine, but we don't hurt people the way he does. Why are you helping Viktor kill people?" Vi called back.
"He's not killing people. He's metalfying them!" Jinx answered a drop of uncertainty hit her voice. "He said it was, and I quote," She gave a great low cough, "the good of humanity; to become the next step of human evolution, man and machine!" The fake macho upper-class accent seemed almost comedic coming from the pyromaniac.
"What about the people that don't want that?" Vi asked, slowly coming out of her crouch. She raised her gauntlets up in surrender. She felt exhausted to the bone. She was drenched in sweat, covered in dust and oil. Her gauntlets were starting to feel heavy as some of the pneumatic fluid leaked out. She would need to do some major repairs. In the back of her mind, anxiety crawled into her skull.
No, she trusted Caitlyn.
She had her six.
Jinx aimed her massive new toy. It had to be a hybrid of her rocket launcher mixed in with a quick loading system. It was of fair size though, nothing too extreme, but Vi could tell it took some heft to really throw that thing around.
"What about 'em?" Jinx growled with a squinted glare. "Metal makes everyone happy! It's why you use those hunks of junk, why hat lady likes her guns."
"Not everyone. Some people like to live their lives the way they are. And what happened to pow-pow and fishbones?" Vi asked. "Didn't they make you happy before Viktor changed them?"
"Metal man made them get married, much to fish bones complaints. He still doesn't shut up about it!" She groaned, rolling her eyes. "Personally, I believe that he likes zap, better. More of his type, really. OH be quiet you, everyone knows!" She replied to her new gun.
"Jinx, you need to understand, Viktor, is not nice. He may have done nice things for you, but he is hurting he will hurt you too, once you stop being useful." Vi explained.
"Take a step to the right, Vi." The radio piece crackled. Caitlyn's voice sounded so...faint.
Vi took a deep breath to quell the worry strangling at her insides. She trusted Cait to let her know if she could, or couldn't do what needed to be done.
But…
"His army killed a lot of people, people that were innocent and didn't want to be metalfied. You just haven't seen it, because he told you to play with your new toy here in the upper city. You let people run away because you are not a meanie like Viktor, or Caitlyn or like me. You let be themselves." Vi continued, taking a small walk around her past hiding spot and disengaging her gauntlets. "Are you going to really let him walk around hurting people if they don't think like him? It's not fair. It's cheating."
Jinx opened her mouth ready to respond. Ready to ask if metal man was hurting people. If she could be shown the proof.
However, the city had other plans.
With a cacophonous crash, a massive skyscraper came tumbling down with the sounds of breaking glass and bending metal, over what seemed to be market square. More buildings came crashing down in a domino effect, covering over the market with debris clouds and dust.
Vi and Jinx could only hear the deafening sound.
Caitlyn, from her vantage point, could see the entire scene unfold. Adrenaline mixed with complete dread sat weighted in her gut as the thoughts of Dakota being slammed with debris and brick rolled into her mind like a broken hexfilm. Her heart stilled as she watched the dust cloud settle to the immense destruction. As her mind took in the scene, the shock coursed through her system and brought herself to her knees as she fainted.
Vi took the moment of opportunity and lunged forward, wrapping her strong arms around Jinx's waist. With a roar, Vi lifted her easily and threw the frail woman into the ground.
Jinx wailed like a rabid animal as she desperately clawed at the pinkette. Her combat boot came up to rabbit kick into Vi's jaw, causing the brawler to snarl out with a curse as she slammed her elbow down into the bluette's nose. The frail pyromaniac reels as she took the hit; stars exploded into her vision.
"Get off me you fat ass!" Jinx bellowed as Vi changed her grappling position to put the bluette in a tight headlock.
Jinx retaliated as she screeched, slamming her triceps into Vi's abdomen as the brawler tightened her arms around the loose canon's neck, cutting off the supply of air flow.
The wild pink eyes of the pyromaniac became even more frighteningly feral as she continued her incessant scrambling to get free.
She didn't want to fall asleep. She did not want to have metal man know that she had been so careless to get caught by stupid fat hands. She wanted to continue playing and to tell AuG all about the fun she had. She needed to win the bet that she had with him. She needed to prove that she would make an explosion bigger than metal man!
"Please….fat…..hands….leggo." The bluette sobbed as her nails dug deeply into the pinkette's forearms. It was getting harder to breathe. It was getting harder to stay awake. She tried desperately to buck her hips, to wiggle free. She did everything she could, but fat hands was too strong and burly.
"Please….." She managed before her head slowly lolled to her chest.
The last thing she remembered before she drifted off to dreamland was Vi's rapid breathing and desperate calls to hat lady.
***********************************************************/)(\*******************************************
{Son lux- I Am the Others}
Why does everything feel like she was numb?
Was she dead?
A deep breath.
Oh.
A dull fire slowly starts to build along her obliques and rises to her slow steady heart.
Wait, everything…. Hurts?
Death shouldn't hurt.
Her vision seemed to blink as she adjusted to the light hanging over her body. Her entire mouth felt as dry as cotton. She tried to lift herself up, but something in her body protested menacingly with a sharp shot of pain and rising flame.
"Kiddo?"
Vi? Dakota wanted to reply back, but her voice turned into a miserable useless croak. She slammed her eyes shut as she focused on keeping the pain in the base of her spine under quick control.
"Easy now. Take your time, you've been out for a bit."
The soldier swallowed heavily. "Wa….te," she barely managed.
"Hang on, the medic is almost done. Then we'll get you some good ole h two o."
Medic? Where was she? Where was Elric? Why was Vi here? Was she dreaming?
"Easy soldier." An unfamiliar voice soothed; the feeling of a soft hand grabbing at her left forearm caused her to jump slightly. "Relax, and breathe slowly. You are currently at HQ field hospital, just outside of the city center. You have been out for a day and a half now. Your body went through incredible amounts of impact trauma and you went through a quick surgery to deal with some internal bleeding issues. You have many lacerations and a few broken ribs to boot, so I can guarantee that if you get up right now, you will not like the shit kicking your body will give you." Something poked at her lip and it took the soldier a few seconds to realize that it was a straw.
She closed her thin lips over the cool metal and took a long sip of the cold refreshing liquid as her jaw throbbed to the movement. She gave a rough cough as finally, her parched throat became hydrated. Her abdomen clenched too tightly causing a hiss of pain to shoot through her body and out through her clenched teeth.
"Like I said," The medic continued. "Your body is not too happy with you. You are currently going through the last rounds of blood transfusion. So pretty please, unless you want me kicking you out of my tent, do not, under any circumstances, pull out the needle and IV in your arm."
"Blood transfusion?" Confused, the soldier opened her eyes and stared at her right arm. Panic set in immediately as she looked over the badly bruised limb. Her entire arm was either an angry red or deep dark blue. She placed her head back onto her pillow as she kept her eyes to the ceiling of the dark green tent. Her lungs felt ready to seize as her mind slowly recollected the events prior to being in a medic tent.
Glass falling in a cacophonous crescendo accompanied by the harsh undertones of concrete and rubble's low hum of gravity. Dust, brick and iron beams hovering over her, and then just pure darkness.
"Where's... everyone? Are they ...alright?"
Tension rose into the atmosphere instantly.
"I'll let you folks have some space." The medic responded evenly. "I'll be back in about forty-ish minutes to administer a pain reliever."
"Thank you," Came the silent voice of Matais.
"Let's get you to sit up, kiddo," Vi suggested.
Dakota could feel two sets of hands carefully move around her. She turned her head to the right locking her eyes onto Matais. Her entire body felt sluggish and almost drunk like as she regarded his sombre features. She grabbed at one of his wrists as she glared at his physical state.
His left eye was covered in bloodied gauze. A long jagged cut went along his soft jawline to the tip of his chin. "I'm alright. Just a lot of glass shrapnel that caught me." He whispered through a sad smile. His tall knobby frame hovered over Dakota protectively as he helped Vi bring her to a comfortable sit. He was no longer in his mage robes, but in a gray fisherman's sweater that smelled like it had been worn for a few days. The usually bright purple vines that crawled up his body to his neck was dull against his dark skin. The tattoos had been scrawled into him when he turned sixteen; a ceremonial right of passage for Ionian mages.
Matais caught Vi's eyes before they both grabbed a stool and sat next to Dakota's bedside; Matais on her right, Vi on her left.
"Kid," Vi began softly. Her calloused hands went through the long part of her hair, stressfully carding through it as she kept her violet eyes turned to the cot next to the soldier. It was now that the young woman saw Caitlyn, sleeping peacefully next to her. "Fuck, I'm so sorry." Vi's voice cracked as she turned her gaze to the injured girl. The violet hues held so much pity and sorrow that it turned Dakota's already twisted pained gut into an angry turmoiled sea.
"What.. happened?" The panic that threatened her stomach moved straight to her lungs as worry clung to her heart.
"We got buried by the skyscraper. I was lucky enough to be out of reach and had Jayce providing me with first aid when he called for help," Matais started. "They got Alex out first. He was barely conscious when they brought him here. He wasn't able to heal from the wounds and didn't make it through surgery. Abbie is with him right now, confirming his body."
"What?" Dakota barked out. "He...can't...no. Alex... can't be dead." Anger went through her system like a lightning strike. "This isn't ...a funny... fucking joke!"
"Dakota, he's not joking." The brawler whispered solemnly.
They all sat in silence as the young soldier processed the news. Confusion, shock, disbelief, great sadness; it all went through her in quick cycles over and over again.
She felt Matais's hand carefully enclose hers. "Elric didn't make it either."
Dakota's world suddenly fell into a dark abyss as she stared hollowly to the Ionian. She could see his lips moving to form words of comfort, but she could hear nothing. Her eyes swivelled to her blanket-covered legs. Her hands went to her lap, the needles and IVs throbbing in her hands at the awkward position they were forced to endure.
Why?
Why was she alive?
Elric was supposed to live on, start a family, grow old and die of a broken heart. He was supposed to be the last remaining Sampson, the last hope for a legacy.
How?
How was she supposed to live on now?
No, this wasn't right. None of this was right.
"I...need to…." It's then that her mind reminds her of a pure fact. It strangles her grief as pure rage courses through her veins. Her knuckles clench as her icy eyes stare blindly to one of the walls of the dark green fabric enclosing the tent.
The brawler and the Ionian looked at each other carefully.
"Where's... that fucking... Noxian bitch?" She seethed, her throat closing off as she fought to take a deep breath. Her entire body shook violently with her ragged breathing. She was in immense pain but she ignored it as her rage grew like a wildfire.
"Illya?" Vi asked, confusion striking her instantly.
Dakota's icy eyes snapped to the pinkette with a ferocity, unlike anything the brawler had ever seen. "She fucking ...did this!" She bellowed through her weak throat. "That cunt... killed... my brother!" The girl tried to rise from her cot. "I'm going...to fucking... rip her to gods…. damned shreds…. and make... her suffer!" She gasped between her yelling.
"Whoa, easy!" Vi called, placing her hands along the soldier's shoulders, stopping the raven-haired girl from getting too riled up. "What do you mean she killed your brother?"
"Let go.. of me so I... can find her," Dakota warned menacingly. Her icy blue hues were brighter than any fire.
"Hold on, answer me first."
"She led them... into the city!" Dakota snarled as she weakly tried to push Vi away from her. Matais rose himself quickly and placed his hands on the soldier's jaw. He forced her to look at him while he began to whisper an incantation. The purple tattoos glowed as he locked eyes with her. "She was a fucking... spy who used us... to get information. She's... the fucking... heir to NOXUS!" Dakota managed before her eyes began to droop heavily with sleep. "What ….you do... me, you...basard?" Tears lined her cheeks she slowly began to drift off.
Matais returned to his seat and placed the heel of his right palm into his good eye. A sob ripped from his throat as he hung his head low.
Realization dawned on Vi as she watched Dakota slump into the realm of sleep. Caitlyn had mentioned a misjudgement of character. Did she mean Illya?
She rose from her seat and began to pace as her mind reeled. She looked to Caitlyn recovering on the cot. She sustained some heavy damage from the pyromaniac with a bullet entry to her left bicep and shrapnel damage above her liver. Cait had been knocked out for blood loss and trauma, leaving Vi to deal with handling the officers and subjugating a proper civilian reintroduction once the city had been rid of the invaders. Piltover had taken heavy death tolls but managed to escape the attack with a nasty limp. Once Jayce had finished his tasks at market square he met up with Vi at military HQ.
Pissed off that Caitlyn was injured and that her gauntlets were out of commission, Vi was on the brink of a rage fest. However, she had a city to look after and Jayce reminded her of this as he came up with a plan. Jayce and the remaining forces of Piltover Company will push the lines as Vi sets up civilian outposts and safe zones with the Piltover Police Department and their bots. Much to her mood, Vi tried her best to be on the front lines, but a firm stance from the Mayor and the Piltover Company General she had to stay back and uphold the duty that Caitlyn was currently unable to do. It was a tough bloody job keeping the masses of the city under control. Vi had witnessed the faces of business people, miners, shop keepers, children, students, and much to her own surprise, a few of her lower city Piltover pals. All of them were terrified, hungry, and in misery. All of them were looking at the brawler for answers and she did her best to provide what she could, but it turned nightmarish when some of them started to get angry.
Vi did her best to keep them all pacified enough as distant explosions rocked the city. The entire time she wished Caitlyn would be there to help her gain control. Thankfully, the mayor stepped in long enough to get many of the civilians quieted down and answered their questions in more detail.
Jayce and Piltover Company had managed to clear the city of the Zaunite Noxian force by the next morning. Now, the police scour the streets in teams with the not so injured forces of Piltover company, ensuring the invading force were long gone and not hiding in the shadows.
In the same morning, exhausted, covered in dust and having her pride bruised, Vi finally had the time to finish the paperwork to book Jinx in properly, who had now been sitting in a cell, left completely alone. Cupcake would have been proud of her for how immaculate that report was and how much detail she had slammed into that thing.
Now, here she stands staring at Caitlyn, waiting.
All she wanted was for her sheriff to wake up, to solve Piltover's problem and save the day the way Cait does. Sure, Vi loves saving the day, but hers is a more violent, headstrong, confident, getting out by the skin of your teeth kind of way. It's definitely not like the regal, iron strength, and bureaucratic day saving of Sheriff Caitlyn Marian Deramore.
Vi runs her fingers through her hair as she places a cigarette in between her lips. Voids above, this was going to be a bitch.
This was going to be a bitch of a situation.
A situation that Caitlyn would be able to work through.
If only she woke up.
What if she doesn't wake up?
Worry tinges in the brawler's gut, making her teeth clench over the butt of the cigarette as an annoyed growl rolled through her throat.
Cait will wake up. Cait will wake up. Cait will wake up.
"Fuck," She breathed lowly as she nudged her boot toe into the leg of the sheriff's bed. "I could use you, right now, Cupcake." She paces more like an agitated lion, her violet hues locked onto her fiancee's body as she began to mumble. "I need you. The kid will need you. Piltover sure as fucking hell needs you."
Cait will wake up.
***********************************************************/)(\*******************************************
{Nothing but Thieves- Honey Whiskey)
"Voids above." She sourly pouts to herself. She's leaning up against the railing of a balcony that overlooks the tiny fishing balcony and seaside manor once belonged to a merchant that sailed from the town to the main Island of Ionia. Now it is the main base of operations, a fortress with defences being raised, for the Noxian army and its generals.
It's a beautiful dusk in this tiny village. Its once sandy beach seems like it would have been beautiful in the orange lighting of the sunset and soft ocean waves bubbling to its soft dunes. But now it runs red from the piled bodies of its civilians.
A shame, but a necessity. The strong will move on, laying wrack and ruin, raping the lands for resources to pile more power to the war machine. She rolls her eyes to the nefarious attitude it evokes.
Typical Jericho Swain.
A false prophet of false strength.
A powerhouse, but not a viable pinnacle of strength like he believed in. He was not strong, but ambitious and violent.
Now, Dakota, she was strong. Not the absolute pinnacle of strength, not even by a longshot. But she had the bare bones structure of it, that was for sure. She thinks back to the fierceness and pure coldness Dakota had emitted during their battle. She thought back to how the soldier's entire being had turned into something so vicious and calculated. In all of the times, she had sparred with the raven-haired girl, the times she had spent in the throws of "passion" she had never seen the inclination that Dakota could even tap into something like that. It made her want to experiment farther, to push Dakota to that edge of feralness to see what she was really capable of doing.
It makes her wonder if Dakota would have grown into one of the deadliest warriors if it weren't for a falling tower squishing her to death. She had watched from the shadows as they pulled out Elric's body, still clinging to the shield Dakota had made like his life depended on it.
But when they pulled out Dakota's limp form from the rubble, something in her entire body made her feel so…
Alive?
Energy forced her to pull a smile so wide that would make any Cheshire cat jealous. She didn't need to see anymore. There was too much blood, too many bones broken.
A shame.
But a necessity.
She didn't need to stay long.
She did her job, confirmed with her own eyes that Dakota and the fifty-first were no more, that Piltover was too broken to continue aiding Ionia, that even though the troops were all but eradicated, it proved that Viktor's science had been successful.
"Your father should be here shortly." Viktor's mechanical voice was still having its moments of faltering. He had been in rough shape when Illya had rescued him from being executed by the Hero of Tomorrow. The mechanical idiot had been strapped to a pole, guarded by two meat heads from Jayce's service.
It honestly, was like taking candy from a baby.
With AuG in tow, they got Viktor into enough shape to have his vocal processors come back and for him to move without sparking up and causing an electrical fire.
"Excellent." She yawned, stretching her arms up to the sky. It had been a very long afternoon of her warping back to HQ in Ionia with her flock of ravens. It had been an exhausting feat, but she had done it and it had scared the daylights out of the guards on the village walls when she appeared out of nowhere. "It's almost time for me to finally get some well-deserved rest. Maybe even a hot meal." She gave a great sigh, closing her eyes as she imagined a warm bath. "Voids, a bubble bath would be even better."
"I believe that would be a waste of good water"
Hearing his deep monotone voice made her spine straighten out unconsciously.
He was in his great general's cape with Beatrice happily perched along his left shoulder. The red velvet interior fluttered about as he removed it from his shoulder, causing the raven to hop and flutter her great wings before repositioning herself along the grand general's collar. A quick moving servant, grabbed the heavy leather and velvet cloak before it fell to the floor, bowing as he left the quarters, carefully folding the garment.
"Leave my office so I may speak to my heir." Swain directed toward Viktor as he bored a very deadpan stare toward Illya. Beatrice gave a greatly annoyed squawk toward the mechanist.
Viktor clicked his heels together and gave a great bow before exiting the office, leaving the two Swains to regard each other like political opponents.
The office was a grand room with three open walls pushing in a soft sea breeze and the sounds of gentle waves. It had a god awful salmon coloured plaster wall along the back that led into the main door to the rest of the third floor of the manor. A very sturdy bamboo desk and large dark wooden chair sat in the middle of the bright orange tiled room. Pillars stood beside each side of the desk, also the disgusting salmon colour.
"I was told Ionain's have an incredible sense of interior design." Illya tutted as she watched her father take a seat at his "new" desk. His leather tunic creaked as he grabbed a parchment and dipped his quill into ink. "This is a god awful colour."
Swain sighed heavily as he directed Illya to one of the cushioned wicker chairs that were placed at the front of the desk.
Nodding she took the invitation to sit and crossed her leg over her knee. "It's been a while since we've sat face to face like this." The young woman remarked as she inspected her nails.
"You've done well, raven child," Swain muttered as he ignored his daughter. His hand scrawled ugly commands into the parchment.
"I don't think you are looking for a thank you, but I'll say it anyway." Illya chuckled lowly. "Thank you for trusting in my ability. I did what you taught me and adapted to the situation handed to me."
The admittance made the room feel even more stuffy as Swain's attention snapped to his heir. Beatrice gave an annoyed flap of her wings as he rose from his chair
"You have more to improve! Do not be cocky! I do not think you understand the position you had forced myself and Noxus into. You took a great risk." Swain barked hotly glaring at his daughter who rolled her eyes.
"A risk that took out an economic powerhouse and turned an advantage of the war into our hand!"
"A risk that could have been read from a mile away!" He pointed toward Illya. He circled the desk and grabbed the young woman by the roots of her hair. "I see your tongue has not ceased to continue waggling. Maybe I should cut it out, you arrogant runt?"
"It's good to be home." The lilac-haired girl sneered as her eyes and skin began to glow a bright green. " I do not wish to challenge you or even fight you, father. However, I am exhausted and quite honestly this was not the kind of welcome reception I was waiting for. I understand what I did was not...to plan. But we are now a few steps ahead. Let me help lead out a portion of the troops. I can take the troops along the north and raid the mountains. I can create an outpost and we can begin mining Ionian coal and steel so we can prepare for next winter. It could create a good siege point and add pressure to make Ionian forces move toward us once it starts getting colder."
The grand general's grip in her hair did not waiver as he mulled over her thought process. How did she know that he had been struggling with the north and its freedom fighters? It's not like he wasn't thinking about the north, however, he didn't have a general capable enough to handle the people and wildlife of the mountains and the magic that they possessed. But Illya…
"That could be up for discussion," He snarled as he released her. He towered over the young woman as he bent down to come mere inches to her face. "How do I know that you could even control a force to handle that part of Ionia?"
The origins in her mind, screamed at her to lash out. To snare the man by his throat and beat him bloody. It caused a voracious shiver to run down her spine. As tempting as it was, he was not her battle.
That was all Kat's.
It was a shame.
But a necessity.
"In Piltover, I held command of Viktor's forces and the undead Noxians warriors. I'm sure if you give us enough time and with some willing forces, we can lay siege upon the mountains, take out the mines and lay a thick enough resistance line to defend from whatever the wilds have in store for invaders like us. We only had 500 troops, a zeppelin and four hulkers in Piltover. If I have a few hundred more troops I could really do some work up there."
He turned on his heel and marched back to his chair. "Leave." He cut hotly as he began to scribble down notes.
Illya gave a great sigh as she fixed her now wild strands of hair. She rose from the chair she had been seated in and gave a curt flippant wave toward the grand general. "As you wish daddy dearest." She left the office, giving the door a firm slam.
Swain shook his head, fighting the urge to rise from his chair and demand respect from the young woman. But something in his gut told him not to; that he had more important things to plan. He needed to ensure he had enough troops, enough resources to see if he could trust the wild card his heir had just presented to him.
***********************************************************/)(\*******************************************
{MSI 2019 Login screen music}
(5 Days Later)
Piltover was now at the point where it could begin licking its wounds. Hence is why he was getting the remaining members of the council to meet with him in city hall at founders square. Miraculously, it still stood proudly, unaffected by melter rounds or the pyromaniac's attack.
"We need to regroup."
"We need to pull out of Ionia"
"Are you insane? And have Demacia and Ionia after us for being cowards. We have nothing to lose anymore!"
"We have plenty to lose!"
"We have civilians who need their homes and infrastructure to continue living!"
"Who cares about an infrastructure when Noxus comes after us once they are done with Ionia!"
The mayor could not hear the remaining ten out of forty-five council members as they slathered on, rabid and furious. He looked out of the window in the boardroom where they held the emergency meeting. The large floor to ceiling view gave way to the despair that Piltover had suffered.
It had been the worst he had ever seen it. Buildings were toppled over, fires still raged, people lined up to receive rations for the day, travelling back and forth to bunkers looking for lost loved ones. Soldiers leaning upon each other as they made their way to the medic tents at the base of founders square. The bodies of those who were able to be collected, lined up and documented. Families coming to claim their dead or see if their missing loved ones were amongst the dead.
Piltover would rebuild eventually, but this was a very hard blow.
Voids above.
"We need to push back." He whispered to the reflection in the glass.
Instantly the council members silenced among themselves, unsure if they heard the mayor properly.
"Sir, if we push back, there is no returning." Councilman Peter Deramore objected. His wife and himself had hid in their basement shelter due to their daughter's request. Luckily their manor ward had only gained minor damage. "If we attack Zaun or Noxus, we could practically just throw in the towel now."
The mayor turned on his heel and carefully placed his hands upon the table just as General Grayer entered into the room. He had removed his cap as he bowed to the council and the mayor.
"You told me that we would be fine with your troops and that we would be well defended. You told me that your scouts would report anything if they spotted movement." He takes a moment to breathe through his nose to contain the scream that threatens to break through his words. "How did they hit us without anyone knowing?"
The way he asks these questions makes the General swallow. He has seen war's face, seen the brutality of it and easily keeps his composure around it.
But the way the Mayor looks at him now he wishes every one of his soldiers would wear that look while facing a full enemy charge. It sends ice down his spine as he understands the rage that courses through the mayor. But what courses through him does not show. It is hidden behind his eyes and engulfs him.
"I have been notified that there was a spy within our ranks. Someone who we had no idea could even possess the threat. We believe that they had discovered smuggling tunnels and used them to throw their forces, our estimation is about five hundred or so, that went underground, while they bombarded us from above with Zeppelin melters and the loose cannon." The general explained. "They funnelled us for Market Square."
"Who was the spy?"
The general measured the Mayor and the council members who all look at him with wary eyes.
"Jericho Swain's daughter and heir. The fifty-first had rescued her from imprisonment in Zaun. We both allowed her in under the strict condition she was nowhere near training sessions, meetings and archives of the unit. We all feel for the trap that she was a helpless young woman."
The table is slammed so hard that it makes most of the council members jump unexpectedly.
"What's that damage report on our treasury?" The mayor mutters through clenched teeth.
"The National Bank was looted, but at least thirty five percent of the looted materials were found and forty-eight percent were still safely locked away. Our trading post is...destroyed, but could easily be raised via tent and a new communications system that we easily have donated from either Piltover Company or the Piltover Police Department. Our Treasury and vault of Townhall is completely untouched." Peter Deramore replies.
"How many troops do we have left, excluding the ones on Ionian soil?"
"Four thousand one hundred and eighty-two, are left as a whole."
"There were five hundred of them! How did they take out sixteen percent of our forces, eighty percent of our infrastructure and nearly twenty percent of our population with one bloody invasion!"
"We were not as prepared as I had thought we were."
The mayor gave a very short laugh as he turned his back to Grayer. "You're unbelievable." He placed his head in his hands as he began to think. Gears churned as his exhausted body and mind surged forward. "How many are left as engineers corps in Piltover Company? Surely most of them survived." He spat.
"Only two of them lost their lives in an explosion accident as they helped corral the remaining Noxians into the Hero of Tomorrow."
"This is what we are all going to do." The mayor began as he returned to the board room table. He looked to each of his council members than to Grayer. "We are going to keep at least twenty percent of the engineering brigade and one hundred shield and infantry soldiers. Before we even move forward we need to complete the defensive walls and demolish every single one of those bloody smuggling tunnels. I want Piltover Police Department handing out warrants to anyone who puts up a fight for destroying them. We are going to give our remaining forces to Ionia-"
"But, Mayor, we can not-"
"I am not finished talking." He snapped angrily to the argumentative council member who instantly silenced himself. "How much of the fifty-first is left?"
"Two, one is badly injured and the other is not your everyday soldier," Grayer replied solemnly.
"Did the newly instated captain make it out alive?"
"No. Just his sixteen-year-old sister and the Ionian mage."
"The aspiring hextechnologist?" The mayor asked surprised.
"Apparently, she faced off with the spy. The girl is...angry, to say the least. She is currently being healed by the Ionian to speed up her recovery." Grayer reported.
"Intriguing. Would you say she could be stable enough to lead a force and be motivated enough to last long enough to wait for Demacia to finally have their forces on Ionian sands?"
"Given the circumstances, I could guarantee it."
"We will keep our forces in Ionia long enough to give support until Demacia can take up the helm. We will then return our forces to Piltover within next winter and regroup ourselves, increase the strength of our forces and return when we are able and ready. However, the fifty-first will remain in Ionia, acting as a guerilla warfare group until commanded to come back home. We made a commitment to our allies to give them troops, the fifty-first can do enough while Ionia and Demacia wait for us to come back full force. While we wait we can increase our revenue with this war and create strong trading ties with Ionia. In order for us to gain strength, we will need to grow our economy." He mumbles. "By the gods, I am praying I am not forcing us all into a mistake."
***********************************************************/)(\*******************************************
{My Chemical Romance- Mama}
(The next day)
The bag swings viciously.
Her breathing is too ragged, too tired, too weak.
Not fast enough, strong enough, capable enough.
Anger slowly bubbles up her chest causing her to hiss aggressively as she quickly turns on her heel and begins ripping off the knuckle wraps. She can't help the feeling of wanting to kick something, to scream in the face of a warlord, to spit on the foot of a mob boss.
Self-destruction and bitter resentment for even being alive coils in her gut, pushing the anger farther.
The sounds of sirens, her mother's eyes looking off into nowhere, her father's broken neck, glass falling from high above, a Demacian scout grabbing her ankle at death's door, cement and concrete rumbling as it careens down to market square.
She grabs the back of her neck and allows herself to sit down as she muffles the scream into her arm and brings her head in between her knees as she begins to count and breathe deep. The familiar ache of nearly healed broken ribs helps keep her anchored down as she starts suffocating the memories of Elric in her mind.
She must be merciless to herself. She must kill him from her thoughts.
It would hurt a lot less when her brain finally processes that he is gone.
It still doesn't feel real.
Alex any minute now will come sauntering through the training room doors ready to tell a tale of his grand adventures with a girl the night before. Elric would be coming in right behind him rolling his eyes with that sunny like smile their mom had.
But the reality is that they are gone.
And she is crying uncontrollably in the center of the training room with Matais who had been keeping tabs on her since she woke up.
Everyone was worried.
When Caitlyn woke up and heard the news she couldn't help by try to comfort the girl which resulted in a bared teeth snarl and a warning to stay away from her followed by a solid silent treatment. Vi had even tried, but even she was ignored as Dakota would rise from the cot and hobble away. Abbie had neither seen nor heard from the raven-haired girl who was clearly avoiding her like she was a plague.
The only one allowed close enough was Matais.
The Ionian kept his distance, only touching or talking to her when he would press his healing hands along her body.
When Dakota had first caught her reflection and truly learned of the amount of damage she had succumbed to it shocked her. Her larynx was cracked, right arm shattered, left arm dislocated from her shoulder, most of her ribs broken or cracked, spine with hairline fractures, concussions and a badly hyperextended ankle. Not to mention she had endured mass amounts of internal bleeding into her left kidney and completely (and luckily) in her appendix and away from any important organs.
And now, with much to Matais's credit and for the very stressed looking medic who was in charge of the wing Dakota had been in, she was now fairly close to being fully healed. What had been nasty bruises and broken bones were now taken care by the Ionian mage who turned them into very sore and sensitive parts. Even the scar from the surgery was nearly healed; she had even gotten her stitches removed yesterday.
She looked at the ceiling of the training room, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Matais secretly eyed the girl behind one of his texts. The twenty-six-year-old had returned to his soft mauve mage robes after he had gotten the material patched up and cleaned of any singes and dust. The robes were a light cottony material that formed a tunic over his chest that covered and long-sleeved white shirt he usually wore underneath. His pants were made of tan linen that made it easy for his knobby frame to move freely with lots of loose material around his hips and knees. His curly dark hair had been left to its wild demeanour at the top of his head, leaving the sides of his head well shaved to military standards. His dark umber skin was an incredibly handsome tone that complimented his forest green eyes. While his fighting partner Alex had been the embodiment of fire and chaos; Matais was nature and rocksteady foundation with very large helpings of knowledge and intellect. He was the perfect opposite for Alex.
Sadly, with current reality, Matais felt as if part of his body had been cut off. He missed Alex dearly. Even though the young fiery man had been a massive pain, always causing distraction, he was a good, clean and irreplaceable energy. A small pang of sadness struck his heart as he realized, he would probably not find anyone like that again.
As soon as Dakota's sobs quieted down to small whimpers he gave a small sigh as he placed the book beside him and got to his feet. Truth be told, he had been reading the same paragraph over and over again, not retaining a single piece of information.
His mind had been thinking too much.
He carefully sat next to the girl, gently nudging her left shoulder with his right.
The girl looked to the Ionian sadly, rubbing her face with the back of her hand to dispel the evidence of her small breakdown. Matais gave a small reassuring smile before he laced his hands together and focused on trying to keep them entwined whilst moving his hands in intricate motions. It was a game he used to play with himself when he was a young boy. It was a small way to keep his mind busy.
Dakota blew out a quick sigh as she tiredly placed her head against the Ionian's shoulder. She watched his hands, mesmerized with the way they moved.
"Your ribs hurt?" He murmured softly. He was in fear of talking above a whisper as Dakota was like a frightened forest animal; this had been the most amount of contact she had allowed in the last couple of days. The last thing he wanted to do was spook the girl into not trusting him and then gallivanting around doing idiotic things because she was angry and mourning.
The Piltovian gave a slow nod. "They sting." She admitted through a sniff. Unconsciously, her right hand went to her abdomen.
"Hmm," Matais agreed as he gently pulled away and untangled his fingers. He then looked to the girl, who in turn nodded to the Ionian. Being given the consent, he placed his slim yet large hands along the top part of her stomach and along the right side of her obliques. He gave a quick mutter of words, his vines tattoos glowing bright purple.
Her body reacted to the magic with a slight hiss at first. She gave a grunt before it turned to a numbing icy feeling.
"You should probably allow yourself to recuperate properly." He whispered matter-of-factly. "Not to be offensive, but you do look like death and sleep may be a good thing for you."
"Can't sleep," was the quick terse reply.
Afraid to pass the point of no return with her, he quickly dropped the subject.
The two of them quickly snapped their heads to the door of the training room as the sheriff walked stoically, laser-focused on Dakota.
The young soldier swore under her breath ad she got to her feet and kept her eyes on the floor.
"I thought I would find you here." The sheriff clasped her hands behind her back as she regarded the remaining members of the unit. "Piltover is continuing its plans to aid Ionia. The fifty-first will be deployed to the capital city and take orders by the Ionian guard."
Dakota's head snapped up from the floor. Her icy eyes burned like a bright fire as her mind began to formulate a plan. Noxus was in Ionia, which meant a high chance of the grand general and his heir to also be in Ionia. Life seemed to kickstart the fire in her eyes to the one in her heart. She was going to get that piece of Noxian garbage and make her fucking pay.
"However, the two of you are still healing and have also faced great losses. So under my advisory, we will be sending in some of my highly trained SWAT personnel and myself to carry forth any missions, until you are both capable."
"What?"
It was the most betrayed sound the sheriff had ever heard. It was like Caitlyn had punched Dakota in the gut.
Matais side-eyed his comrade, swallowing as he watched the teenager clench her knuckles and begin to shake angrily. Caitlyn knit her eyebrows in worry as the girl began to march quickly to the short sheriff.
She only gave an inch of space between herself and the woman.
"Fuck you." Dakota snarled, spittle flying madly. "Fuck your advisory. Fuck your gods damned SWAT and your self-righteous hero complex."
"Excuse m-."
Caitlyn's appalled tone was cut off by Dakota's sharp bellow as she turned away, grabbing the back of her head with her hands.
"I need to go to Ionia! As long as I breathe my entire existence is hunting down that bitch and making sure that no one will ever touch Piltover ever fucking again. So help me you get in the way of that and I swear to the gods you will bloody regret it!" She pointed to the sheriff menacingly as she began to stomp in an agitated circle. "You don't own me. You do not get to make a decision like that for me. You get shit all. I don't fucking care if you are our commander, the damned sheriff or any other fucking thing that thinks you can tell me what I need to do."
Caitlyn, shocked, tried to speak, tried to defend herself.
"I am going to Ionia! And I am going to make Noxus, Zaun and Illya Swain pay for what they did. I will be their fucking nightmare!"
The sheriff watched the presence of vengeance curl around her biological daughter. It gripped around her shoulders and whispered sweet nothings into her ears. She saw the way it coiled around her neck and blinded her sight.
"You are mourning, Dakota." Matais finally spoke, keeping his eyes to the floor. "I understand where you are coming from, but this is not the smartest way to gather what you are truly seeking. Trust me, if you allow your pain to fuel the justice that you are seeking, you will be blind from further threats. Allow yourself to heal and then you can move onward to do what we must." He grabbed his left elbow before he moved his gaze to Dakota. "It will happen. We will get there and we will wreak havoc, unlike anything that Noxian had ever seen. But you need to heal. You are in no condition to fight a war when you barely survived the first battle."
Dakota tightened her lips as she continued pacing like an agitated lion behind cage bars. She completely ignored the sheriff, never looking to the woman who seemed ready to have her own screaming match. The sheriff wanted to grab the girl by the shoulders and tell her to stop carrying the weight of other's mistakes and misdeeds.
She just wanted her daughter back and not this shell of an angry vengeful creature that thirsted for blood.
"You are not going to Ionia, Dakota." The sheriff metaphorically placed her foot down. "You are too injured and not in the right shape to go to war right now." She wanted to scream, letting her know how close she was to losing the raven-haired girl. How much it made her entire being feel empty when she saw the skyscraper fall over market square.
The soldier continued her pacing, uncaring of Caitlyn and her feelings.
"We should listen to her, Dakota," Matais added.
"Why? So that we can just wait around twiddling our bloody thumbs, while Illya is out there killing innocent people. While Noxus takes over Ionia, your home, Matais." The soldier snarled. "We can't just stand here and do nothing. I can heal in Ionia preparing for our next mission. You have to watch over Piltover, Sheriff."
"You are dense if you believe that I will allow you to go to Ionia in the state your in!" Caitlyn bellowed back.
"Stop fucking worrying about me. You're not my mother!"
"Don't do that to me, Sargeant Sampson. Don't pull that argument on me, that is unfair and very childish of you."
"And you're being a selfish cunt!"
Silence swallowed the training room as the two of them stared each other down.
Matais watched as they both shared ragged breath, their shoulders rising and falling as anger surged through them. He could see the hesitation and hurt in Caitlyn and the newfound aggression and desperation in Dakota. He couldn't help but pinpoint on that desperation. He could now see it being masked as vengeance; being a lie to protect herself from what she actually felt. Lost.
Dakota didn't need time, she needed to be kept busy and focused on a meaningful task.
At this moment Matais understood Dakota more clearly. This wasn't some fantasy of getting her brother back by becoming a merciless angered soldier. This was Dakota begging to keep herself together long enough to be able to serve justice in the way she had been taught since she joined the fifty-first at seven years old. Dakota was clinging on to her training to keep her from becoming a useless weeping mess. Instead of waiting for the sheriff to give her a mission, she made one for herself.
The Ionian gave a thoughtful nod before turning his attention to the sheriff. "When do they plan on shipping off our forces to Ionia?"
"Three days time," Caitlyn muttered as she kept a steel like stare onto Dakota.
Matais walked over to his forgotten text, bending down he collected the dark green binding."Dakota, you need rest."
"I don't."
"You do." He argued back. "Your aura is very telling that you could collapse at any minute. How will you prove to the sheriff that you are capable of healing and properly preparing yourself for war if you collapse suddenly."
"I-"
"Sheriff, if Dakota can prepare herself in three days time to be assessed properly by the general, his board and yourself and passes said assessment, would you command her to war?"
He could see the way her eyes plead for him to stop. He could see her thinking through a lie before she gave up to the truth. "I would."
She closed her eyes in regret as she turned her back to her biological daughter.
Dakota moved like a viper as she lunged forward and struck the punching bag with a scream. She turned on her heel as the bag swung and sauntered over to the exit. "I'm going to find a place to sleep." She muttered over her shoulder, briskly walking past the sheriff.
As the door slammed shut Matais carefully clutched his book to his chest. "I know you want her safe, Ma'am. But she is as stubborn as a mountain goat and probably as dumb at some moments. However, as logical as your reasonings were, it simply would never have worked."
The sheriff gave a short exhale. "A part of me knew that, but I thought I'd give it a go."
"She's too much like you. Once she has her mind set..."
"It's impossible to derail her." Caitlyn finished. She pinched the bridge of her nose and tried her damnedest to keep the tears in her eyes from falling. "Promise me you will watch out for her. Do not let her get caught in reckless abandon. You forced me to say yes, Matais."
Matais gave a quick nod. "You have my word. I will not fail Dakota like I failed Alex."
His solemn reply made Caitlyn's feet move before she even thought to go forward. She grabbed the Ionian's form and embraced him tightly.