...Hi
It was a chilly morning outside.
Amidst the silence in the junkyards, the whispers of wind blows were constant. It was a regular thing in autumn. Winter was getting closer and closer, and soon, snow will be covering all places one could see.
The lanes had a heat source during those weathers, bless Uncle Ben. But those who tried their luck at the top? They better get themselves all clothes they had to fight off the cold.
Which Vi was doing, sort of.,
The jacket was thin. The scarf had small holes in it. And the gloves were fingerless. They did the job tho. So no complaints there.,
Breathing in and out of the pure air, she walked calmly between the mountains of scraps and parts.
Sleep didn't come easy for her after last night. Not even a stomach full of food was of help. Taking the few hours she got, Vi was quick out of bed, leaving a pass out Powder, Milo and Claggor to their dreams in peace. On her way out, she saw Vander setting up for the day.
Whatever thoughts of things still being tense between both ended quickly. Vander greeted her with a kind smile and offered a full breakfast before she left. They chatted while eating together, enjoying each other's company in tranquility before the day kicked off. It used to be like this every morning before the table filled more and more.
While it may have looked like yesterday didn't happen, he still let her go on her way with a double meaning goodbye.
"Be careful out there," Vander said over his shoulder.
Vi knew she was head strong about many things. Personal views for the most. A part of her, however, also knew when to learn and take a hint. Even if a literal blow to the head was of need for it. Ben and Vander? They may have forgiven the stunt she and the crew pulled. But not without making points, tho.
It was the first. And the last time Vi would do a thing like that. And god help her if it happens again. Honestly ? After thinking about all the life and death situations, plus the scowlings, she was happy to obey and lay low for a while.
But also, and most importantly, to keep her promise to Ben. His trust is a matter not taken lightly. The last thing she wanted was for her word to be empty in value. She would do her best to honor the second chance.
Crossing through a gap as quietly as she could, Vi reached her destination at the yards. And her target.
Ahead was an area similar to an arena. Rusty iron walls with metal pieces laid around and on top of them, making the view feel more tight than it was. Down below, there is a lone silver pole raised. A hook was attached to the tip by a chain. Said chain held a heavy sand bag over the ground. Despite not being of the best quality, it did well in taking the punishment the sack was getting.
Taking short breaths, a young adult male with unfocused eyes, and a walking stick put against a piece of broken furniture, was punching away on the sand. His hair weaved left and right as he moved across the space between him and the sand bag. Strikes and kicks came at a high and precise speed. His fists, covered in white cloth, flowed with movements of a professional.
Vi guessed he hadn't been there for long. There were no sweat signs on his short sleeved black shirt or face, and his breathing pattern was still focused. Not that he was one to tire too fast. It was part of his routine for years. Be it prior to sunrise or in the late hours of the night.
There were instances she was sure he was part machine for it. Speaking of that.,
Vi looked at the scraps around. Ever so slowly, she picked a medium size fuse from the ground. It was in a decent state and weighed almost nothing in her hand. Pulling an arm back, she took aim in the man's direction.
Two breaths later, she threw the fuse.
He continued his workout like all was good in the world. But in the last second, and without even turning, his right arm shot out. In a blink, the fuse was in the palm of his hand.
The man tilted his head slightly to the side. Vi In the distance which she stood, she could almost make out the wry smile forming on his lips.,
"Don't you get tired of trying ?" He asked, finally turning in her direction, twisting the fuse between his fingers.
Vi smiled. "Never will,"
The man shrugged. "You better not get angry when I start calling you insane," Throwing the fuse away, he gestured for her to get closer.
With a small showcase parkour, Vi dropped to the lower ground, walking up to him while he went back to his fighting stance. The Pinkette then went behind the sandbag, holding it in place for him.
With a nod of gratitude, he resumed punching. "Woke up earlier ?"
"Couldn't sleep," Vi stated. "You ?"
"Have many nights like that," He said in understanding. "But today was just because I wanted,"
Breaks with him were rare, but he did take a day or two for a pause in his activities.
"Gotcha," Raising a brow at him, she added. "I guess you already know why on my case ?" There was no need to pretend ignorance.
He paused for a second. "Well, I do like to keep an ear to the ground," Came a simple confession.
Vi puffed a laugh. Of course, he did. "Matt Murdock, the know it all of the lanes,"
"One of them, you mean. I ain't half of the Undercity," Matt replied in kind. Kneeling the bag, he pointed out. "Wrecking ball, however, it's yours only,"
"Hey!"
"Did I lie ?"
"It wasn't even me,"
"You were there when it happened ?" Now it was his time to raise a brow.
"Yeah...No...Shut up and keep punching,"
"Oh, using my words against me ?"
Vi groaned, murmuring under her breath. Had it been anyone else, it would've been left unheard. But not with Murdock.
"Talking is part of my charm. Deprive the world of such would be a waste," Matt said, making Vi flinch at her momentary slip.
"Sorry," She apologized for being insensitive in her silent rant.
"It's alright," Matt brushed off her concerns. "I didn't get here today by letting the fact that I'm blind rule over my life,"
Vi, Peter, Powder, Milo, and Glaggor considered Matt their unofficial older brother. And he was, in a way, as Vander also came to raise him at a young age.
For the older folks in the undercity? The memories were much more significant.
If one of two events were to mark Matt's name back then, it would be the accident that took his vision away.
His father, the late Jack Murdock, or "Jax" as people called him, was a part time worker at a now closed factory. Matt had nothing but praise for the man, and so did many others who knew him. Humble, hard working. Like everyone in the lanes, he dealt with the daily struggles, head held high. Even when life threw more personal hardships at him.,
He became a single father soon. With the passing of his wife during child birth, the man found himself with no choice but to take Matt with him to all places. Including his job.
All was well for a couple of years. But one day, when Matt was nine, it happened.
The factory was of metal work mostly. With the excavations being the suppliers of the material and the chemicals for the machines., The latter were on tanks, in strategic positions for staff safety.
Some things, however, are beyond the foreseen.
During the last hour of work, the ground shook violently. It tore stone and metal apart. Miners were buried alive under the cave's wall. The factory broadly suffered as it was falling apart fast. But in the chaos and death, there were still those looking after each other.
Tanks of chemicals were the first pieces to break with the earthquake. The internal pressure was too much for the metal to hold. One, in particular, was so intense that a portion of the container flew out. It would've hit an older worker right on. Matt rushed into action. He pushed the man out of the projectile's way. But couldn't stop what came next.,
With the pressure released, the liquid contents also bursted. And Matt was caught by it.
A melancholy night ended even more somber. With a boy being comforted by his father. While screaming in panic that he couldn't see.,
It was one of the many reasons Vi found Matt to be extraordinary.
Besides the fact they shared having lost both parents soon. Out of countless ways of how his future could be, there he was. Standing firm and in complete control., One could argue he ended up better than many in the same situation.
The fact that he was there, now, with so much skill was jaw dropping in its own right. He was so natural that Vi, once in a while, even wondered if Matt was really as blind as he appeared to be. Like catching the little objects, how fast he read a book, and that one time he knocked a fool out with a single punch, much like his father could.
Matt would always play it off, saying he got to that point with experience, focus, and time. Joking that without his cane, he would be in trouble just walking out of his house.,
Vi and the crew bought the explanation. But she always had those thoughts poking in the back of her mind.
Also, because of the opportunity of observing him close most days.,
After witnessing the knockout, the young group basically begged him to teach them. Vander provided a lot of knowledge in self defense. But another source for it would only help them more.
He put up some resistance to the idea at first. The kids, however, wouldn't back down for anything. Considering their performance in the alley, Matt should be proud of the results of his teachings.
But how to throw a punch wasn't all he had come to offer the group.
Head tilted in Vi's direction, he asked after a few minutes of silence and getting a feeling of her mood."You wanna talk about it ?"
"Hmm ?"
"About yesterday. If there's anything left to say, of course,"
Vi thought for a second. In one hand, it could be helpful for her as Matt knew how to provide different perspectives. On the other, she came there to distract herself from the matter, even for a little while.
"Thanks, but...no. Not now, at least," Vi answered after sighing.
"You sure ?"
Hearing Vi hum in confirmation, Matt relented with a single nod and offer. "When you feel like it, you know where to find me,"
While appreciated, it gave the girl a chance to jest.
"Is there anywhere else to find you ?" She referenced his training grounds.
Matt smirked. "I'll have you know. My house is not that bad,"
"If you ignore the giant green sign through the windows,"
"Never bothered me anyway," Matt shrugged in deadpan.
Vi guffawed. "You're so full of shit,"
"Didn't I say? Part of the charm," Matt finished his section with a hard punch, making the sandbag almost slip out of Vi's grasp. "Now," He then said seriously. "Tell me about those guys you fought,"
"Jerks, trying to chew more than they can. Nothing new," Vi had almost forgotten about them already. What she didn't forget, however, was giving Milo a third talking to that night. Mostly about him needing to learn when to shut up. Their fight was, in the end, a product of his unnecessary bragging. She went harder on him than other times when he pulled Powder into the argument to take some blame off his shoulders.
That was true. Matt counted many of these rats more times than he would've liked. He asked with a different approach. "Did you knew them ?"
"No,"
"Ever saw them before ?"
"No," Vi frowned. "Why ?"
Matt hummed, running a hand over his knuckles. "Just found it weird,"
"Weird because ?"
Call him paranoid or overly suspicious, but growing up in the undercity, you had to pay attention to the tiniest details. And Matt went a step beyond when it came to that. His father's death drilled that in him.
So when hearing about this group Vi encountered, a couple of pieces stood out. With the new information she provided, he began to wonder. Was it just a coincidence?
Not out of the realm of possibility, especially in the Lanes. But what if it wasn't?
A group of strangers finds the kids exactly where they would go and when. Either they stalked them all day, or someone else had their eyes on them.
None gave Matt any ease.
But just assumptions weren't enough to make things concrete. Matt would be patient and wait for other signs to consider his theory valid. Keep both ears beyond the ground, as he usually does at night.
Shaking his head, he said to Vi. "Forget it. A thought crossed my mind," Acting quickly, not letting her suspicion grow, Matt asked playfully. "You guys put the idiots on their asses tho, right ?"
Vi had a proud smile. "We did learn from some of the best,"
"Flattered, milady," Matt gave her a short bow.
"Don't let it go over your head," Vi playfully warned.
"Too late,"
Oh no, She wasn't about to let that one slide. Not without a fight.
And a perfect way to use the situation for her original cause of coming to the junkyard. "Alright, I'm beating it out of you," She stated, taking off her scarf and jacket and heading toward the center of the area.
Matt chuckled. "You can try," Out of the group, he and Vi spared the most. The girl had determination and never took a loss as definitive. Give it a few more years, and Matt knew she could reach the potential to be almost as good as him., Almost.
"First one to fall ?" He asked about how their match would go.
"5 rounds. In classical, by the way," Vi confirmed, cracking her knuckles and rolling her neck before getting into her stance. Guard up and body unmoving.
Matt followed suit, shoulders rolling, his stance an unconventional contrast. Guard low and his feet lightly bouncing off the ground in a constant tempo.
Those were their personal styles. Matt had his basically down to the basics, always looking for new variations to add. Vi took that from Vander and Matt's lessons and came up with the one she thought would benefit her the most. It was rough around the edges, but she adapted fast when it was necessary.
Matt started the match with one last lively taunt. "Brought any ice packs ?"
"Again, shut up. And fight!" Vi ordered and advanced against him.
- Hours later - Rooftops -
*Click*
"Testing, testing ?"
...
..
..
"C'mon, I just changed the wax.
...
...
...
"Ah-HA! I got it.
Ok, eeh, this is Pe-Professor Peter Parker. God, I need to work on those lines better. Anyway. Today is the third, no, fourth test on my new project. The last three had, well, results. But! Not without some positives. I'm still alive. That's one of them.
Now, maybe, in the end, it was the quality of the pieces that caused all mal-functions in the earlier tests,
With what we got yesterday, things will run better this time around. I mean, I hope."
SKKRRRRR!
"Great, there goes the floor again! Urgh! Maybe uncle Ben can let me borrow some paint for a while,"
Thump!
"Alright, so. The components are almost all in place. There's a new trigger, a new slot for balance, and - Ah! If you're hearing this, you already know all the steps. Today, let's focus on the new stuff.
One of the problems was the base. The watch couldn't hold much. But with this wrist band? Enough space to spread all components. And some. Plus, it isn't heavy! Tho, waiting for the paint to dry? I can not recommend.
Not as bad as the electric charge from before, but, yeah, better to live without it.
As for the fluids, I won't have to worry about the capsules being visible. Now I need a better way to replace them when they get empty. But that's for later.
Right now, my fingers are cross for better results.
...
...
...
And also the fact that Milo won't stop taunting me if it's ready or not. So I've to make it work one way or another. Otherwise, I won't know peace,"
"That out of the way, let's get started,"
...
...
...
...
"Little more to the right aaaannnd, there!"
"Installing the component went well. Granted., There is still the matter of resistance. While the metal may endure a lot more than previous versions, I can't tell what sort of damage or harsh movement may trigger a backlash effect,"
"For further testing, doing it outside is the best case scenario,"
"Who are you talking to ?"
"GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
In his moment of shock, Peter turned around, screaming. The recording device went straight to the floor when his arm knocked it away by accident.,
The voice that scared him belonged to one wide eyed Powder. Who took a step back and raised her hands at his reaction. She wore her usual pink and blue shirt and pants. But had black fanny pack wrapped around her waist today., Which looked strangely familiar.
When the screaming stopped, Peter had grasped his table hard, breathing in loud puffs.
"You ok ?" Powder asked innocently after a moment of silence.
Peter replied between breaths. "Ok ?! What's wrong with you ?! Don't scare me like that!"
Powder raised a brow, her expression still innocent. "Didn't you hear the door opening ?" She gestured to the back with her thumb.
"No! I was focused here!" Peter exclaimed, incredulous.
Powder's eyes shinned. She stated with a triumphant grin. "And that's how it feels,"
Peter instantly realized what Powder was implying.
Oh.
"Ah, C'mon, I didn't do it on purpose. And apologized after," Peter said in relation to him scaring her at the building.
"I know," She admitted, shrugging. "Had to make it even, tho,"
Peter grunted but didn't argue with the fact. Picking up the recording scroll from the floor and seeing if it broke, he remarked. "Guess it makes sense,"
Satisfied with her little revenge, Powder followed up honestly. "And I'm sorry as well,"
"For not saying nothing or the damn near heart attack you gave me ?"
The smile widened as she nodded. "...Yes,"
What kind of answer was that?! Peter wondered, inclining back against his chair and putting the scroll on the table. After a few moments, he said, thinking out loud.
"Part of it is on me, really. Aunt may always says I space out easily,"
"She ain't lying," Powder agreed. Having witnessed a result of such before., She and the whole crew, actually. They were always pulling Peter from the clouds of his thoughts.
Not delving further into self criticism, Peter asked. "Soo, what's up? I thought you wouldn't come here today,"
As everyone in the group had their private spot, it was only fair their brightest minds also had one. At least more than one.
It came in the form of a medium sized wooden bonker. Peter, with some help, built it on one of the rooftops in lanes. With the height, it was possible to see all sides of their home. Including a perfect view of Piltover as well.
Inside was Peter and Powder's workshop, filled to the max by all they could find to make their inventions. With enough space for both to work and not accidentally get in each other's way. Walls covered with sketches, notes, a large chest for storage, and Powder's drawings of funny faces. Parts of various types were spread across the floor, used or not. Including some failed bombs Powder made.,
It was hard to get it where it stands today. But in the end, it was all worthwhile.
"Why ?" Powder asked.
"Last night," Peter stated, matter of fact.
She couldn't fault his reasoning. Yesterday was exhausting for each of them. Before leaving, she asked Glaggor, the last one still in bed, if he wanted to tag along. All she got in response were half willed waves and soft "no's" from him.
On her end, she had a good reason to get up in the morning.
"Fair enough. But what about you ?" She first asked.
"Ehh, couldn't find in me to stay at home," Peter replied. "Tho, after everything, it seemed like I would be in my room for the next year or so,"
It was almost too good to be true. Make a mess and go free with a slap on the wrist. Not that Peter thought of testing luck again so soon, if ever again.
The fact also surprised Powder. None of the group expected that to be their outcome. Before she could voice her agreement, her eyes landed on Peter's table. Noticing the pieces lying over it gave her an itch of curiosity.
"What you working on ?" She leaned to the side to get a better view of it.
Peter's mood changed instantly. He sat straighter on his chair, lips pressed together, eyes going back and forth while secretly moving to block his work from sight.
When Powder saw this, along with him trying and failing to speak., It dawned on her what it was.
"No...," She said with a haunted gaze forming.
"...Ok, look, hear me out," Peter raised his hands with a pleading tone, giving up on hiding.
"No!" Powder repeated.
"It will work this time!"
"You said this on each try!" Now she nearly shouted. He had to be joking.
Powder would never question Peter's intelligence. A part of what she knows came from him. He even helped her make her first mini bomb.
But this? His pet project. Which he hadn't even said what it was, by the way. And never would, seeing how things went at the end. It was the single thing she couldn't trust him.
More so after not one but after four incidents in a row.,
"True...But! I got the right pieces now. The percentage for success is bigger," Peter pointed out, hoping to make a case for himself.
Hands at her waist, head tilted to the side, Powder gave him a flat stare, done already with the matter.
"What percentage ?"
Peter paused for a second. "12 - 15 percent?" He said, wincing at his own words right afterward. He and his big mouth.,
Powder's reaction said it all about her feelings about the answer.
"That's it, I'm dumping it in the trash," She stepped forward, ready to end the nightmare once and for all.
"Oh no. No, no, no!" Peter got up fast, putting himself between her and his project in panic. He lost sleep over this. No way he would let go of it that easily when he was so close to completing it.,
Hand raised, he said, with all the conviction he could muster against Powder. "One more step, and I swear, I swear! You're going to look for your bombs at the sewer!"
The blue haired girl didn't seem taken by the threat. Mimicking his pose, she stood protectively in front of her desk. "I dare you to try," She said coldly, just like she saw Vi doing more than once.,
"Took the words right out of my mouth," Peter replied similarly.
A silent battle of wills began with both locking gazes.
Until.
SLAM!
"HEY, GUYS!"
The door was all but kicked open. Peter and Powder jumped on the spot, yelping loudly. Consequences for it came quickly. As it happened before, Peter's jerky movements caused him to hit his project dead on. He only realized the fact after hearing it hit the floor hard. And a few seconds later, the now three present individuals jumped again, hearing a short but loud Boom.
There was silence between the three as they turned to look down. Peter's project laid there, with a burned hole in it. Smoke started to rise over the area. And other pieces came undone, falling around the main one.
Its creator's face slowly morphed into a defeated expression upon seeing hours of work going to waste again. All because of him, again!
Breathing deeply, Peter turned to the newcomer. He was dark-skinned, with short white hair, and wearing simple clothes. Peter greeted him in a dead tone.,
"...Hey, Ekko,"
"I'm really sorry,"
"Don't worry. It's ok,"
From Ekko's point of view, it looked far from ok.
Peter in special.
After cooling the broken device, he put it back on the table. He then entered a state of contained hopelessness, sitting down, hands over his eyes and tone still dead.
Powder was rubbing his back in consolation for a while. Ekko and her both shared looks of worry over and over. With the former holding guilt as well. Charging inside instead of knocking wasn't one of his best ideas.
Sharing his friends' deep care for their own inventions, Ekko had an understanding of what he was going through., Not to mention what it meant to him on so many levels.,
Maybe he could ask Benzo for some spare pieces in the shop. At least to make it up to the ones destroyed. Even help Peter to rebuild the device if necessary. Tho, he doubted the latter would come to be.
Powder's voice ended his train of thought.
"Why did you come here running ?" She asked, even getting a new reaction from Peter, who turned to look at Ekko.
"Oh yeah!" Ekko's mood brightened as he started jumping from foot to foot. There was a justification, but how silly of him to forget in the first place., "I wanted to know who did it go. You guys really went there ?!" Excitement was evident in his voice.
Peter and Powder were confused.
"Ok, how do you don't know what happened ?" Peter was in disbelief.
Ekko rolled his eyes. "Dude, I stayed up locked in a room. Fixing a clock till two in the morning. Pass out after getting to bed and woke just an hour ago., Of course, I didn't hear anything,"
"A clock ?" Powder asked after a moment of absorbing the reason.
"The cannon pinions don't wanna get fixed, I swear to god," Ekko stressed out to them.
"And just let you stay there all night ?" Peter wondered.
"Eh, Vander showed up, and they almost forgot I was there," Not that he heard anything they said. The walls were too thick for sound to go through. "But, enough of that! I just got a few minutes. How did it go ?!"
The other boy smacked his lips. "...Well,"
Ekko's face was between amusement and bewilderment as Peter and Powder told him the story in full detail. There were instances in between that got a laugh out of him. In the end, all he could do was shake his head.
"Man, you guys are something else," He stated.
Powder tilted her head at that. "Come again ?"
"No, seriously. You go to get stuff from a rich top sider. And by the end, turn it into a man hunt and a street fight! How ?!"
"Hey!" Peter exclaimed in outrage.
"Calm down, calm down," Ekko raised his hands in peace. "I ain't saying it's your fault...most of it. But there's no denying it. You guys have talent. And skill, kicking the jerks' asses AND making the enforcers take a bath on the river,"
Sure, talent. Peter scoffed internally, tuning out and shifting back to his earlier position.
Powder kept the conversation going.
Ekko turned to her as she asked. "How did you find that place, anyway ?"
"What? Oh! This guy came into the shop. Just looking at him, you could see he was a topsider. All fancy and clean," Ekko revealed. "He bought a whole bunch of stuff Benzo only keeps for display," Now that he thought about it, some of it could've come back with the looting. "The best part? Check this out. He paid all of it in gold! And didn't even haggle!"
Powder was took aback. Gold was a rare sight at the lanes. Hearing someone spending so much, just like that, made her think of how rich they were. And if she took the building into account, filthy would define it well.
"Wow," Was her reaction.
"Right ?!" Leaning forward, he added in a mischievous tone. "Took the chance and charged him in double for it. Heh, Sucker,"
Peter, who couldn't actually tune out even if he wanted. Commented about the man. "Either this guy was showing off, or he really wanted those things,"
"Maybe both. I win anyway," Ekko proudly boasted.
Powder chuckled while Peter hid a smile over their friend's doings. The former having a hand in some of the past ones.
It was chaos when they made a sphere bike work again, proceeding to ride across the city like a pair of loose canons. Both would've continued maybe the entire day. Until the vehicle malfunctioned again. And they crashed on a pile of boxes right in the middle of the square.,
Most of the adults found amusement in the case. But Ekko was never to be allowed near another bike, forever.
The same suddenly dropped his proud expression, hands reaching inside his pockets as he remembered something.
He cringed. Eyes glued to a chained watch that he always kept on his person. "Crap," Benzo was going to kill him for being late.
"Yeah, gotta go now," He revealed to Peter and Powder. "Catch up with you guys later ?"
Peter thought about the meeting place for a second. "At the last drop ?"
Powder had other ideas.
"Aaah, let's go to the arcade," She pleaded in suggestion.
Peter snapped his fingers, pointing at her in agreement. "You heard her. We meet at the bar and go from there,"
"Deal,"
Ekko gave Powder a quick hug. Shaking hands and bumping shoulders with Peter, he promised. "We're going to make that thing work, you and me. I promise,"
Peter took the declaration in good faith. "Thanks,"
Ekko left with a final two-finger salute, disappearing behind the door in a hurry.
Alone once more, Peter turned to Powder for her opinion. "So, you got any ideas of what to do now ?" Going back to his work was literally off the table. And starting from scratch again wasn't appealing in the slightest.
The girl's answer was instant.
Peter saw her wordlessly pull something from her purse.
"Where did that come from ?" He stared at it.
"Uncle Ben gave it to me," Powder replied.
Just as she was leaving with Vi, Vander, and the boys, Ben called for her inside the house. Coming up to the door, he knelt before Powder, showing the gif. Safe to say, she loved it at first sight. As she did with every gif he and May gave her.
After thanking him with a tight hug, Ben sent her on her way with a piece of sly advice which got her snickering.
Next time, take it with you. Your pockets can only carry so much.
Now Peter understood why the purse was so familiar. His thoughts halted when Powder finally took the contents from inside. His sower mood evaporated as she held them out. Showing what it was.
He got up, staring in disbelief. "No way," The boy whispered. "You brought them ?"
"Sure did,"
In the palm of her hands laid the crystals they found back in the apartment. Three of them. Still pulsation with blue energy and a layer of black rock covering it.
"How did you-?"
Powder knew what Peter's question would be.
"I put them on a barrel outside the last drop when we go there," She explained. Had she placed the crystals with the other loot, Vander and Ben would've found them on the spot.
"Uh," Peter voiced in understanding almost dumbly.
Holding a giggle at the expression, Powder reminded Peter of where he leaved off in their conversation.,
"I remember you said you knew what they were, right ?" She asked.
Coming out of his haze, Peter went into professor mode once again.
"Put them on the table. I'll be there in a second," The boy said to Powder before darting straight to their storage chest.
Hearing his motivated search, Powder gently placed the crystals over the wood surface. Turning right on time, she saw him coming over with other equipment they had either made or found. One being a large glass len tied to a slim metal bar.
After setting up each device at their position, Peter was ready to proceed. Putting on a unique type of goggles that covered most of his eyes, leaving only small rectangular windows for him to see, he rubbed his hands and sat down.
"Ok, easy does it," He whispered, taking a pair of tweezers in hand to examine one of the crystals.
Powder eagerly stared over Peter's shoulder as he went over all sides. He pocked, rolled, and picked for any detail to be found, often murmuring things in a volume she couldn't quite hear.
As time passed, her anxiety grew. One step away from speaking, Peter dropped the tools and lifted the goggles from his eyes. Blowing a quick whistle, he said.
"Wow,"
Powder's patience was slipping as she grasped his arm, giving it a shake.
"What ?!"
He raised a finger, signaling for her to wait a bit more. Going and coming back with a piece of white paper and a pen in hand, Peter started drawing.
"I saw this on a blackboard," He looked at Powder while saying. "Can't promise it will be the exact same, but -" Finishing off some minor details, he held the paper up for her to see clearly. "Should be close enough,"
A photographic memory sure could wonders when one needs it.
Powder gently took it in her hands. She became entranced, her mind running with the possibilities of what the drawn pieces could be. Daring a guess, she asked.
"Is it an engine ?"
"That's the point. Yes and no," Seeing Powder raising a brow, Peter added. "It's like I said to Vi. They could work for a lot of things, small or big. It depends on what you want it to be in the end,"
Powder gave a light nod at the explanation.
She then wondered. "What about the crystals ?"
Peter took one of them, holding it close, saying. "Going by what I saw, the people working on this didn't seem very close to finishing the project," He chuckled. "Turns out, they have all the ingredients to do it. And you found the most important of them. The power source!"
Powder froze, almost letting the paper slip through her fingers.
"Uh ?!" She replicated Peter's reaction from before. Not fully processing what he said.,
"Yeah!" Peter happily exclaimed. "You really struck the gold with this one,"
For a few precious moments Powder felt a rush of emboldement for her newly revealed achievement. A single breathy laugh escaped from her, along with a big smile. But the sensation wore off quickly as she bitterly remembered.
Concern arose as Peter noticed her face becoming grimmer. Hands almost tearing the paper apart while squeezing it.,
"Powder," He called. Powder blinked and looked at him. Turning aware of what she was doing, she gave a soft and timid apology, putting the paper away.
Peter didn't stop there.
Still sitting, he moved up the chair closer to her. He stayed silent, but the long stare he gave her said it all loud and clear. Speak, or I'm not stopping.
Powder relented. Still, she masked her feelings with a face of indifference. "It was just dumb luck," She said in a flat tone and a light shrug for effect.,
Peter didn't fall for it. He instantly knew what was happening.
Crossing his arms, he signed, basically demanding. "What did Milo say now ?"
Peter had lost count of how many times the same had happened to him and sure knew how to overstay on a subject.
"Nothing he hasn't said before," Powder insisted.
So did Peter. "Refresh my memory," He asked her. And asked again when she turned away from him.,
"What's the point ?!" The mask started to crack as Powder pressed in reply. But instead of a flare of rage, she became sullen. "It's always the same. I ruin everything every time,"
"That's not true," Peter gently stated.
Powder had clear doubts about that.
"Isn't it ?" She said in a defeated tone before adding. "That guy that cornered me at the pier? I was about to throw the bag into the water to get it away from him. Because I was afraid, and didn't have another option to get away from there. Mauser failed. And Matt can teach me as much as he can. I'm not a fighter,"
"The reason we even have the stuff, it's because of you," Powder turned to him to emphasize the point. "You helped me, just like on the roof before. I was lucky because you got there in time,"
As much as he disagreed with the notion, Peter at least got a part of his original question. "That's what Milo said ?"
Powder gave in. "You know it, I know it. All the times she comes along, something goes wrong. She jinxes the jobs. Today was only different because Peter, for all his own faults, mind you, was there to carry the dead weight for us this time," She quoted the exact same words he said last night.
It was by chance she heard it. She was walking to her and Vi's room when she saw the living room's door slightly open. And then came the ear dropping.
"He said that to you ?!"
Powder shook her head. "To Vi,"
Milo's nature wasn't a mystery to them. He complained, knew how to be a complete jerk, and always had some smart-ass thing to say at the tip of his tongue.
Having lived with him more, Peter, for how much they argued, saw that, deep down, Milo wasn't a bad guy. Just hard to work alongside with. And at the end of the day, they were like brothers. Peter would be lying if he said he would help Milo if he needed it at that very moment.
But still, Peter was so going to choke him when they met. That if Vi hasn't done it already for what he said.
He focused on the matter at hand.
Getting up, he placed an arm around Powder's shoulder, holding the crystal ahead of them.
"Tell you what ?" Peter started. "Milo can talk a lot. But nothing he says will change the fact that you brought this. Luck or not. And between us? It's more valuable than anything else we got. Let him be proud of that fancy nose hair trimmer while you have a real find,"
In their rush to leave, Milo dumped whatever he had in hand in the bag. Little did he know that one of his scores was for personal hygiene. Him trying to make it look not so bad after finding out was priceless to see.
There was a visible upturn in Powder's mouth at that. But the girl's feelings, however, were still at a low.
"You mean it ?" She asked, looking for any falsehoods in his support.
Peter placed the crystal in her palm gently while rubbing her shoulder. "Every word. Without you, this wouldn't be here. The credit's all yours,"
Powder turned to the blue orb, staring steadily, slowly closing her hand around it. And then, did her mood change for the better.
To keep it high, Peter suggested. "Here's an idea. What do you say we put it to work ?" He pointed at the crystal.
"Now ?" Powder asked in surprise.
Peter shrugged. "We got time,"
The girl rubbed her lips, unsure. "Think we can make it ?"
"I don't know," Peter was honest in his answer. Before putting it to her. "But with another great mind here, I say the chances are good,"
After a few moments of considering, and with his praising words, Powder's eyes shined with confidence. "Alright," She said firmly.
Raising his arm, Peter gestured to their sketch table. "You lead,"
Last drop - Later at night.
If he were to say, Vander could consider movement today pretty standard. The number of people was lower than the night prior. And no one had any funny business until the moment. Much less those two who he gave a piss off for threatening Huck. It seemed they took his warning to their heart.,
But the matter of customers took a turn when a visitor showed up a few hours ago.
Ben came to the Last drop every once in a while. And all of those instances, tho simple for the old one, were treated as a gathering for others., Just as word spread of his arrival, people flocked to the last drop to catch up with him.
A few continue another part of the tradition.
Standing at the left corner by the entrance, a jukebox with neon green light provided the music. The songs in question were some of Ben's favorites for years.
[Insert: Bob Marley & The Wailers - No woman, no cry]
For some, this could be overwhelming or a massive stroke of ego. But Ben wasn't any of these. Actually, one could wonder how he did those things with such a casual demeanor. If they thought about it, it would be simple.
All of those, from whatever walk of life they were on in the present, grew up with Ben's presence. The same went for him. He was always glad to see the little kids all grown into adults. And still mourned those who didn't get the chance to reach that stage of life.,
For that, he gave everybody his individual attention when speaking with them, enjoying these moments to the fullest.
After going over that sea, Ben stopped at the bar with Vander. The latter saw the visit as a timely coincidence in the context of what was happening. And he knew others saw it as well but chose not to speak on it.
For the last hour. Under the noises of the club, Vander and Ben switched between casual talk and any developments about the situation,
"How are the kids ?"
"Good. Behaving for now," Vander said over his shoulder at the sink. "Claggor and Milo spent the day inside, are outside now. Vi and Powder went out, but I gave them a heads up before it," He turned to the counter, drying his hand. "Judging by the lack of news, I'd say they got the message. What about Peter ?"
"Woke up early, that one," Ben said about his nephew. "Was excited, didn't want to waste time to work on his new invention,"
"Heh, he sure has a bright future if he continues on that path," Vander remarked.
For Ben, bright was a simplification.
"He's brilliant," Peter never failed to impress him and May as he grew up. He and Powder. Curiosity planted the seeds of their desire to learn about anything they could. Ben often times thought both were speaking in an alien language when explaining notes or how he made his creations. In a strange way, that was what made him the proudest.
One thing Ben strived for was to give people around him the motivation to achieve something great for themselves, something that would make them use their potential to the fullest. It wasn't any different for Peter. But every time Ben thought about the boy, in particular, they would end with him reflecting on the same question: Was the lanes the right place for it? Was it really for any of the kids?
Vander interrupted Ben's musings by speaking of the same theme going on in his head.
"He and the others all have their strengths," He said before adding with a groan. "If only he and the rest used common sense more often,"
Ben raised a single eyebrow, seeing Vander shake his head. Now, he had the justification to state such, but Ben had to remind him of his own share of causing problems.
"Jack, don't act like you were any different from them," The old man dryly stated in the same voice he used when Vander was young.
The same's golden eyes widened at the remark. Vander tried to form an argument, but words failed him. His only choice is to stay quiet while privately pondering about himself.
A familiar deep laugh from the right only made him grit his teeth.
"Way to go, Russel. It's like you never grew up," The scenario was too familiar.
"Haha! You got him there, pops," Benzo wheezed. Almost dropping the contents of his cup and leaning his back against the counter.,
With thick arms, a double chin, and a large belly, it was easy to write him off as a no-one down there.
As if.
He got to the last drop way earlier, being part of the matter they discussed.
In many forms Benzo was Vander's right-hand man in running things at lanes. Whenever Vander was busy, he would be to one to take care of the problems. He wasn't as intimidating but did the work. His main job most of the time was being a collector. Parts sold or offered monthly by whoever could sell for some coin.
A profession that required more business experience to thrive in it. And Benzo was good, as much as Vander teases him of being the shittiest one alive.
Now he was receiving payback.
Vander found his voice again.
"You done ?" He asked, teeth still gritted.
"Don't blame me. You got yourself into this," Benzo pointed out with a smirk.
Ben added, pretending to inspect his glass. "Again, not unlike the kids,"
It was more fuel to Benzo's laughs and Vander's suffering.
The latter groaned under his breath.
As the former got it all out of his system, he spoke seriously., "I get what ya mean, Jack," Vander and Ben turned to him. "We can critique them as we want, but that's their nature. The younger folk always thinks they're doing what's right,"
"And throw themselves into problems wherever they can find," Vander stated in a weary tone, despite knowing that Benzo was right.
"They would find it sooner or later," Ben spook his wisdom. "Or it would find them. The good side of being sooner is that we are here to help them with it. And, it pains me to say it, making and learning from mistakes is better before than after,"
He recalled mentioning their drive and will. In Ben's heart, there was doubt the kids had the right intentions. But it isn't enough to survive in this world.
"Yeah," Benzo concurred with the theme. "Let them hit a wall here and there. Easy to write their own stories by knowing where and not to go in the future. Especially when we ain't going to stick around forever,"
Vander's gaze dropped to his hands at the word future. Like Ben, he had a subtle fear of it. Never for himself, however. The enforcers could be constant but were manageable. It was the things worse than them that often kept Van awake a night.,
Benzo then reflected in a lighter vibe.
"Ha, but those were our days, weren't they ?" He smiled in remembrance. "Pops here taking care of it all, and you and me, Jack, running around with the crew. Being all young and -"
"Dumb ?" A new, younger voice said behind them.
All three turned to see a hooded Matt Murdock heading their way. With Dark red round glasses covering his eyes. His walking stick tapped the floor beneath on repeat. A single book held in his hands.,
"Well, well, well, look who decided to show his face," Benzo was the first to greet him. "Haven't seen you in a while, kid," He stated, friendly.
The young man smiled.
"Your shop ain't exactly easy to find from my house," Ben got up from his chair, guiding Matt to a seat for himself. Saying a quick thanks for the help, he took his hood off and placed the book on the bar.
"Wanna drink something ?" Vander asked him.
"Water for now," Matt requested before addressing Benzo again. "Besides, I don't think I even have time on these days,"
"Got a new job we don't know off ?" Benzo wondered. It had to be something simple, considering the boy's condition.
"Studies," Matt replied, finding the book again and giving it a tap.
"What kind ?"
"Laws, relations, accords, anything I can get my hands on, in braille, of course,"
"Aaah," Benzo inclined his head back with sly mirth. "Are rumors true then ?"
He could see Matt frown behind the glasses while tilting his head. "Rumors ?"
It was Vander who explained it. "You're leaving us for the top folks," He quoted the words, gently putting the cup of water in Matt's hand. "Don't worry about them, however,
Taking a sip from it, Matt stated. "Didn't think of it that way,"
"But are you really planning on it ?" Ben wanted to know for sure.
Matt thought about the best way to say it. "Well, it's easy to know why I'm limited to most works down here. Much less those with heavy loads. So I started considering other options a few months ago, expanding the horizons for opportunities. It may be hard at first, but maybe Piltover will have something for a blind kid to be useful. Better be ready for whatever comes my way,"
The three adults saw the logic in his wish.
"And what do you hope to get out there ?"
Matt shrugged. "Worst case? A writer. Best case scenario ? A counselor for someone,"
"The last is a heavy one," Vander warned. Most times he heard about advisors were about those working with the high figures of Piltover., A position many fought to get.
Matt didn't look like he cared much. "It may be true," He conceded to Vander. "But I think it would be a unique position to do some real good if given a chance., It could also help in emending things between them and us,"
"Ambitious, kid," Benzo said. Respect clear in his voice.,
"Again, I'm considering a best-case scenario," Matt took another sip from his water.
"Don't be so quick to dismiss it, Matthew," Ben told him gently. "Your father always wanted you to have a good life. He would be proud of you for trying this,"
Vander nodded in agreement, sharing in the sense of being proud, and knew Ben felt that way too. "Damn right. The man never stopped talking about you," He said. "This kid? He's going to be the best kid in the world. Not one day went by without him saying it,"
The four shared a warm laugh at the memory of the old Murdock. His loss still hurt them on the inside. For Vander, it was like losing a brother, another one. And a son for Ben.
Both did their best to take care of Matt, and even as he was becoming more and more a great man, nothing would ever take away the pain from the lad.
The same knew it too. But at the end of the day, Matt owed his life to them. And loved both just as much as he did his father.,
He kept his lips from trembling, not wanting to ruin the night's mood.
"Makes me wonder if that's why you and he were always fighting each other. Got tired of hearing the same thing ?" He joked about Vander and Jack's bout at their boxing ring.
"Ha! Like that would make any difference. Your old man packed a mean punch," Benzo stated. "Even got Van here scared sometimes,"
Vander rubbed his jaw, remembering how painful it would become after a few rounds against the late Murdock. Not to mention, he was one of two people who Vander actually had to put work in to drop.
"Understandable, you wouldn't want him to -"
"Let the devil out ?" Matt spoke the words his father used to describe his mood during a fight.
"Yeah, what a tagline that was. Jack said it right after we met. My brother in name, you may regret ever pissing off a Murdock in your life,"
"That is true. The amount of blood I had to clean off you two was unnatural," Ben said dryly.
"You never lost a fight of ours, tho," Vander pointed.
"Of course not!" Ben looked at Vander as if he was insane. "At least in those moments, you were exhausted to do something else. And I didn't have to act and beat some sense into your heads,"
The three other men restarted laughing. Ben soon joined them in it.
For the next few minutes, they went on enjoying the night. While the others continued drinking and talking about whatever came into mind, Matt took a moment to get some reading done.
Tuning the sound around, he concentrated on feeling the letters while moving his fingertips over the pages. He did it slowly to not bring any attention to himself and pulled the book closer to avoid anyone seeing it was a normal one and not written in braille.
It was one of the first quirks he learned with his gift. The sense of tact, like Matt's remaining senses, was up to 11. He could feel even the ink as if it was still fresh. And it helped him to read quicker than the average person. What once could take days, he managed to finish in a matter of hours when focused.,
An out-of-place sound from outside broke him out of his reading.
Subtly, Matt inclined his head to the right at the entrance.
Boots.
Two pairs. Weighty against the ground under them. But also heavy breathing. Not the usual, no, with a mechanical layer to it.
And the smell.
It was void amidst the toxins polluting the air. Cotton? No. Wool? Maybe. A few sniffs gave the answer. Leather.,
A very pristine leather.,
Matt's shoulders tensed, gritting his teeth and shutting the book. He knew that combination.
He wasn't the only one if Vander's growing heartbeat and the sound of his fists closing said anything.
Enforcers.
Right and cue, as the music stopped, the front doors opened. Stepping inside, with their blue/gold uniforms and hats, were Piltover's finest.
A man and a woman, breathing masks covering the bottom of their faces.
The last drop halted in movement the second their presence became known. Those from the lanes exchanged nervous looks or stared a both with pure disdain, tightly gripping whatever they had in hand.
The one in the front, the woman, had her sight set right at the bar. She had Piltover's banner in a golden badge over the chest area of her uniform. Thus, making her a high-rank figure of the pair.
The man, on the other hand, in a more simple uniform, reciprocated the stares, watching everyone in the hall with distrust and a layer of disgust.
Both continued with their stance until they reached Ben, Vander, Benzo, and Matt.
They took off the masks and hats, revealing their faces in total.,
The woman had a chiseled and frowning face, blue eyes, and short brown hair.,
Her partner had a shaven oval expression. With a thin trail of hair growing under his jaw and smooth black hair.,
The trio of the undercity remained silent before them. It was as Ben predicted it would happen. And the next course of action was for him to take now.
Sooner than later, I see. The man reflected on their arrival.
"Before we get started," He requested to the enforces with a hand raised. Slamming the end of his cane on the floor, Ben announced to all in the last drop.
"Everyone, please, give us some privacy for now,"
There was some hesitation from the crowd. Still, all did as Ben asked and started to leave until only the six remained.
"Call if you need to take the trash away, pops," Said the last one at the door.
"I hope it won't be necessary," Ben replied neutrally. He gestured with his head towards one round table. "Shall we ?"
The female enforcer nodded, but her gaze went toward Matt, who was still sitting. His back at them, blocking both of seeing his face.
"What about him ?" She asked about his presence there.
"Let the boy stay," Ben said. "He won't interrupt,"
She stared at Matt for a few more moments before replying. "If you're sure of it," Her partner had a different opinion based on his reaction, but he did nothing to question the decision.
Both enforcers, Ben, Benzo, and Vander sat down face to face. As a way of breaking the tension, the current leader of the undercity offered drinks, but the Piltovians didn't have an interest in it.,
Down to business, it was.
"So, Sheriff," Ben started diplomatically, using the woman's title. "Is there something we can help you with ?"
"A group of trencher filthy attacked one of the buildings in the academy district," The male enforcer said fast. "Our men lost them. No doubt they came crawling back home,"
"Uh, very, very interesting," Ben's reply to the man had the energy of a man watching ants running in the ground. "But I believe I asked her the question, boy," He stated, not bothering to look at the other enforcer.
It irked the man to no end. As he was about to speak again, the Sheffirf interrupted.,
"It's as he said," She said calmly. "We're looking for the culprits of the blast,"
Vander hummed, inwardly thanking whatever god there was for the kids being away at the present moment. "Got a description for any of them ?" He asked.
"Not precisely, no,"
"But I'm pretty sure is who you're picturing in that thick head of yours," The male enforcer spat, aiming his insults at Vander this time.
The Sheriff's patience with her subordinate was starting to fail. As she closed her eyes, Vander asked in the same tone as Ben. But with a playful attitude.
"You think my head is thick ?" He asked Benzo with a smirk. If the enforcer thought they would take his tough persona seriously, he was in for a hard time.
"Eh, just past the average," Benzo shrugged straight-faced. Even tho he wanted to laugh out loud.
"What about you, kid ?"
"I'd say it's squared," Matt said without moving. He continued pretending to read his book, keeping a hidden surveillance of the meeting. Judging by how the male enforcer's breaths were coming off more intensely and his knuckles cracked by the pressure he was putting in his fist, it wouldn't be long until he snapped.
Short tempered and picked to secure the law? That's
"Dad ?" Vander lastly asked Ben.
"Your head is as thick as his ears are full of wax," The old man replied, still not bothering to move his gaze from the Sheriff.
His tone turned condescending. "Take my advice. First, know your place in a conversation and when people actually care for what you've to say. Second. Instead of acting like a pouty child and running your mouth. Why don't you shut up and listen once in a while? Maybe you'll end up learning something. Because someone sure failed to teach you that before,"
That did it for the enforcer.
Slamming a fist at the table, he got up, eyes burning in anger at Ben.
His place ?! The bastard looked at himself in a mirror once ?! What moral high ground did he have?!
"How about I teach you something, you shady old son of a bitch!" He hissed, hand going to a baton that all acting enforces carried.
Ben didn't even blink. With an unamused face.
The Sheriff's eyes widened both in fear and irritation.
"MARCUS!" She shouted.
The now-named Marcus flinched at the volume of the shout and stared at her, frozen.
"Out. Now." The woman's voice turned cold but didn't lack intensity. "Go for a little walk, cool off, and wait for me outside,"
Marcu's shock grew.
"B-But, ma'-,"
"You have your orders," She left no room for argument. "Otherwise, I'll just watch as Vander over there rips your guts out,"
The anger Marcus felt went off like a candle fire when he turned to the man in question.
And then he saw he was hanging by a soft tread.
Vander had his elbows on the table, hands intertwined over his mouth. It could be a harmless stance for those looking at a distance, but Marcus noticed how the man's muscles were tight, veins showing.
His eyes were what made him shiver.
It could be just the hall's light doing, but Marcus swore they were shining under the shadows in Vander's face.
A single warning. One more wrong step or word and the undercity's boss would act. And he seemed damn eager for it to happen.
But the enforcer didn't want to see what the results would be.
Smartly, he followed the Sherriff's orders without a sound. Taking his hat and mask from the table, he went towards the exit without daring to look back.,
Stepping outside, ignoring the crowd around, Marcus didn't know if he put on the mask to avoid the toxic air or to keep his nerves in check.
"Lovely chap you've brought," Benzo stated sarcastically right after the doors closed.
"Hmph," The Sheriff rubbed her eyes before requesting a lighter mood. "I would take that drink now If you don't mind,"
Benzo saw Vander starting to get. "Don't worry, Jack. I got it," He waved, rising first and heading to the bar.
Leaning back against his chair, Vander couldn't help but ask. "Rip his guts out ?"
The Sherrif raised a brow. "I once saw you almost rip someone's arm off with a single pull," She said, matter of fact.,
"Still," Vander prostested.
"You've your reputation Jack, don't blame Grayson here for remembering it," Ben interrupted with a smirk. Without Marcu's presence, Ben, at last, spoke with more familiarity with the woman. "How have you been doing, my dear ?"
Grayson smiled. Ben left his mark in more places than he knew. Never one would think that a newly appointed Sherrif would find herself becoming fond of the leader whose home she grew up hearing nothing but horror stories about it.,
Yet, here they were.
"As best as I can, ," Benzo returned, putting a cup for each of them.
"I can imagine," Ben said. Piltover's council can boast all they want, but the responsibility of keeping the city safe fell on her shoulders alone.
"For what is worth, times have been quite slow for a while," Grayson grasped her cup, rolling the liquid inside. Many stops at the lanes made her learn to appreciate some of its drinks. "Sorry about Marcus. He really doesn't know when to pipe down,"
"Hmm, some things are the same, no matter where," Vander reflected, crossing his arms.
"Tell me about it," Grayson agreed, taking a long sip and enjoying the burning sensation while it lasted. "You got better at making them," She shook her cup.
"Thanks," Benzo grinned. Speaking before Vander took the credit for the drink's quality for himself.,
Grayson allowed a short laugh to escape her, seeing Vander side-eye the man. Ironic that she can be more comfortable and at ease in this bunch's presence than with her comrades in the department.,
If only the circumstances were just for a casual stop.,
Ben gave the impression of reading her mind when he said. "So, tell us more about what made your council so mad to send you here."
Grayson wasn't a fool to believe the man didn't know all details already. Still, she humored him.
"Theft, vandalism, both can be acceptable depending on where they happen. But the building ? That crossed all the lines upstairs,"
Vander twisted his cup slowly, keeping a calm face despite his growing worry. "Was anyone hurt ?"
"The damn thing was left in pieces. What do you think ?" Grayson stated.
"And this building. I'm sure it was of major interest, was it ?" Ben's question answered itself.
"It belonged to the Kirammans," The Sherrif revealed, eyes more grave than ever. Out of all houses in Piltover, the Kirammans were the ones she was more close. Meaning the pressure was at a higher level. "Any of you have an idea of the stuff they kept there? Makes this whole place look like a living room,"
She then added as a form of comfort for them, if it could be that. "Consider yourselves lucky it was one of theirs, not from the Roxxons, Merdadas, or the Alchemax,"
Raining down hell on the undercity didn't do justice to what those three would do for retribution.
"And now they want someone to make an example of ?" Vander concluded.
"Has it ever been any different? The people need to feel safe, and those upstairs need their investments intact,"
Ben shook his head at the notion. "The smallest of changes would be big in hindsight,"
"Yeah, and changes only for those on the topside," Vander bitterly stated.
Grayson made her request before they lost track.
"All of that aside," She said, staring a Ben. "Mr. Parker, we can make things right here and now. Just give me a name, and all of this will be over. We'll keep it quiet. No one will even know that any of you were involved in it,"
None of the men had an immediate response, each staying in silence.
Grayson pushed. "Please, think. If only to keep our deal. Both sides keep to themselves, and nobody sticks their noses in each other's business. I know peace is all you want,"
She seemed to have broken through as Ben spoke.
"You are right," He admitted tiredly. "As for those who blew up the building,"
Vander knew Ben wouldn't give away the kids, but his heart still skipped a bit at his father's possible answer.,
"I wish I could help more with it, believe it,"
"You mean you don't know ?" Grayson was in disbelief.
"Indeed. You may have your doubts about my word, but remember how I am., Do you think I would take one of ours taking such action lightly? Especially if I knew them personally ?"
The woman opened her mouth but stopped herself from replying. From reports and personal knowledge, Ben was as firm as he was stern with how things went there. Vander. Even if more flexible. Follows the exact iron grip as his predecessor.,
In the end, Grayson had nothing now.
So, she asked, leaning against her chair. "Then, how will this go? Like it or not, I need to put someone behind bars,"
There was another momentary silence in the last drop. It was tense for those from the undercity party. They would not reveal the truth. And Ben could keep the lie for long before someone saw through it.,
Until they heard.,
"How about a compromise ?" The four adults looked at the bar, eyes locked on Matt's back.
"Say it once more, Matthew ?" Ben prompted.
Matt took a moment before responding. "Well. Its evident the situation here is an issue of interests," He started. "The Sheriff needs those responsible for the explosion. To finish her duty and bring them to justice. We, on the other hand, need them as a way to keep our peace with Piltover., Yet, none of us can truly have them. Not now, at least. Which is why I say a compromise could benefit both in the long run,"
Grayson wouldn't be lying if she wasn't intrigued by the young man's observations. "How ?" She asked, brows drawing together.
"One hand cleans the other," Matt stated. "It may sound weird, Sherriff Grayson, but would you consider allowing us to find those you're searching for ?"
Grayson blinked. "Uh ?" She didn't think she heard him right.
Matt was quick to explain his point. "Think of it as an act of goodwill and a peace offering for your superiors. The undercity delivers what they want, showing we are willing to collaborate to maintain our coexistence as it is,"
The others at the table chose to stay out of the exchange momentarily. Leaving to Matt now to possibly get them more time to sort out their options.,
Grayson rubbed her forehead. She saw the logic in Matt's suggestion. And if up to her alone, she would take it., Still, the council had to be in consideration.,
"I understand what you're trying, kid, I do. But the people upstairs are not so easy to convince, especially involving the lanes," She pointed out to him.
"I wouldn't dare to consider them any different," Matt first replied before asking. "Tell me, how do they see you ?"
What? Grayson once again blinked.
"How do they see me ?"
"Yes," Matt said. "Do they hold any value in your word? From what I know, they don't usually keep those who they don't trust around. Less so the ones that keep them safe,"
Grayson saw where he was going now.
"You think I can convince them of your idea ?"
"Give them a new perspective. That will be more accurate," Matt corrected her. "If not all, at least some of them. That even with our differences, not everyone here is a savage criminal. I'm sure the city of progress can understand that notion, I hope,"
Oh, he was clever with the subtle mockery.
"...God, you're putting a lot of faith in me, kid," The Sherriff inwardly felt a little flattered.
Matt shrugged at the idea. "From what Ben has said about you, it's a faith worth betting on,"
Grayson almost asked for another drink. Part of it is because this plan could backfire in a beautifully messy way, possibly ending with her coming with an army of enforcers behind her. And because, while giving each of undercity's bosses a glance, she was letting herself, for a moment, believe it too.,
It's all in a day's work.
With a tired sigh, she warned. "I can't promise 100% guarantee,"
Benzo was unconcerned with the odds. "Not like we're ones to demand it," They didn't get to where they were by having everything in hand.
"Just the fact you're trying is good enough, my dear," Ben added to his statement.
Exhaling, Grayson stood up, her mind made. Reaching her belt, she pulled out a metal scroll painted blue and gold. A message scroll. Their most efficient way of communicating at long distances. Putting it on the table for all of them to see, she said.,"I'll get in touch soon. About their answer., And if things go well. When you find those people, use this to reach me. And only me,"
Ben nodded in understanding before asking about a crucial detail. "Our time, should we get any, is not going to be unlimited, is it ?"
Grayson shook her head. "I doubt it will be much at all. That's counting on the council agreeing with the deal,"
"Heh, I think we can manage. Right, Jack ?" Benzo said.
"My nose ain't out of commission yet," Vander replied casually. They managed to lose some of the pressure but gained a new load at the same time.,
It would be tricky, but they would find a way.
Keeping up the appearance, Ben stated to Grayson. "We will do our part,"
"Hope it works in the end,"
"Me too,"
Shaking hands with the three, Grayson wished them good night before taking her to leave. Praying that Marcus didn't cause any trouble outside.
Ben, Vander, and Benzo waited until she was out to relax their postures.
"...The went well. I guess," The latter spoke on the results.,
"Better than we could expect," Running a hand over his hair, Vander downed his cup in one go.
"Not because of us, however," Ben implied.
Benzo was the first to catch up.
"Yeah," He smiled, looking over his shoulder. "Matt, whoever doesn't hire you, know they are out of their damn minds,"
None of the three could show or voice their surprise at the young man's unexpected help before. Or how easy and quick he was to bring up points and questions to favor his argument.
From his spot, Matt turned to them, waving. "It was nothing," He said dismissively. But he almost lost a portion of the discussion.
Maybe his senses were playing with him somehow. But Matt swore, before Grayson left. It seemed like they weren't alone in the last drop. He felt a strange presence over the place and heard a low breath that didn't belong to none them.,
Disturbing, yet he had to forget about it after. Focusing on all he could do to help keeping his little brothers safe.,
"Bullshit," Try as he did. Vander was having none of that.
"No, really -"
"Matt," Ben interrupted. "Take a compliment, please,"
"...Ah, fine," He surrendered. "Glad I could help,"
"And we're all thankful for it," Matt could feel the smile on Ben's face when he said that. As he felt the mood change as Ben continued.,
"Now all we can do is wait," He said somberly, stone face while staring at the scroll.
"Hmm," Vander tapped his knuckles in thought, doing the same. Countless scenarios went over his head on how they could solve this. Safe to say, not many left him comfortable or content. Compared to the thought of another war with Piltover, he should consider himself lucky.,
But even then, with all the hopes of things going smoothly and working for all sides.
He couldn't help but feel scared.
Heavy boots pressed over wood, their owner walking in a straight line to his destination., He tuned out everything, not even glancing at those who passed by him. Nor the sounds coming from the doctor's lab.,
Brock Rumlow isn't and never was a man known for his patience. When there was a problem, he much rather get it done at once than later. His temperament only got worse after the events that led him to this place today.,
But if there was one thing he was good at was adapting. Whatever he needed to do, whoever he had to kill, he would do it in a heart's beat.,
And, in the future, when the time is right, and if it all goes the way he wants. Rumlow would go home and put a bullet in the blond son of bitch's head. Nothing would make him happier.
Until then, work called.
Not even bothering to knock, he opened the door of Silco's private room. There he found the man behind a desk with his basic clothes on. And dismantling his syringe like he had countless times. Rumlow didn't know why he used that and honestly didn't care. As long he kept the shit away from him.
"Your brashness still surprises me," Silco said calmly after giving him a quick glance.
As he opened a drawer to stow his medicine, Rumlow pulled a chair and sat down with a grunt. "Good to know," He said dryly.
If the answer amused Silco, his face didn't show it.
"Any reason you came here ?" He instead went to point.
Rumlow was glad for it. "The kid got news,"
That got Silco's interest. "Which one of them ?" He asked.
"Robbins,"
Rumlow saw his boss's eyes widen ever the slightest. Now he had his attention.
"Where is he ?" Between many of his subordinates, Silco kept to himself which ones were the most valuable to the plan. Be for now or beyond its stages of progress.,
The boy, Robbins, was amongst them. He didn't think much of him at first. A desperate teenager asking for help to ease his problems fast., Not the first Silco had seen, and definitely not the last.
His first impression couldn't be more mistaken.
Silco would dare say the kid was one of the miracles of their time. His gifts were beyond anything he had ever seen. Not even the doctor could understand them fully.
In the end, the only how that mattered to Silco was how those gifts were put in the field.,
His web of spies was limited. And not all of them had the experience to do the job in the best way. Robbins carried most of the weight on his shoulders. And he was very good at it. His best tracker and collector.,
"Don't know," Rumlow revealed. "He drooped in, said what he needed, and was gone. Maybe went home or something,"
"Hmm," Silco nodded, sitting more comfortably in his chair. "Tell me everything,"
"You were right. The enforcers came here today to talk with your old man and Vander. And from the looks of it, one of them was close to causing problems,"
"Problems, you say ?" Silco repeated.
"Yeah, but that's not all. This enforcer ran with his tail between his legs after Vander put the fear of god on him, leaving the other there." Of course, Vander would, Silco reflected. His brother did that almost as a profession when they were young.
He continued to listen to Rumlow. "From what the kid said, it was the Sherrif who stayed. And check this out. They made a deal,"
Silco sat straighter instantly.
"A deal ?"
"They wanna keep those brats safe no matter what," Rumlow confirmed. "Now it seems they are doing Piltover's work for them,"
"What ?"
"You hear it right. The old-man said they would find those who blew up the building. And hand them all over to the enforcers afterward,"
A laugh almost escaped Silco at the stupidity of that. But instead, he remained in silence. He had seen how low Ben and Vander had fallen and how blind both had become. A shadow of their former selves. And now they were risking the safety of the lanes for a lie.
He had to act quickly based on these developments. And his opportunity to get the upper hand came from where he least expected.
Vander and Ben made their move. Now it was his turn.
"Rumlow," Silco found his voice again. "Get in contact with Robbins as soon as you can,"
"Already ?"
Getting up, Silco answered with another question. "Did he say the other enforcer's name ?"
Rumlow thought for a second. "Not that I remember, but he probably knows,"
"More reason to get him here. Tell him I will pay double for this one if he makes it fast," Silco stated, walking around the desk.
Humming, Rumlow made one last question. "Care to tell me why ?"
Opening the door, Silco said without turning.
"I plan to provide some help of my own,"
A/N:
Alright, I know, I know, I dropped out of the face of the earth for months now. Some of you even thought this was being abandoned ( Speaking of that. How dare you ?!).
I wish it was for a big reason this happened, but honestly, it was a combination of writer's block and life kicking my ass to hell and back. Same for the next chapter of "The Iron Hunter" which is halfway done for ages now.
But I guarantee I ain't letting any of them go. It may be slow, but more updates will come.
For now, hope you enjoy this one.
Stay safe folks, see ya next time.
Peace.