Zaunite Souvenirs
BANG!
The Piltovan agent went flying backwards, colliding with the alley's wall. Ren moved to stand protectively between the man and the young boy he had jumped in to aid. He let out a low whistle as he watched the agent grip his arm in pain. He knew he heard something break when his augmented leg slammed into the Piltie.
"Didn't mean to break your arm there," Ren called over, "but at the same time, I'm not really sorry about it. I mean, you did attack us."
When Ren had heard the young boy cry for help, he had rushed over to the sound has fast as he could, only to discover that the boy had been cornered in the alley by his attacker. One look was all it had taken Ren to recognize the man as a Piltovan; clean uniform, sunburnt cheeks, and a blue armband signaling which clan he worked for.
Ren had no idea why the agent had been chasing the kid, but he had grown to assume that if someone in a Piltovan uniform was this far deep into Zaun, it meant someone was in serious trouble. But whatever the boy's original infraction had been, Ren highly doubted that sending a clan's personal enforcer down was a reasonable response. Nope. He knew what could happen to a poor Zaunite kid if some rich Piltie thought they could get away with it. At the least, this was an act of intimidation. At the worst, a child going missing in Zaun was an easy thing to cover up.
Ren gave the man the benefit of the doubt. So, if intimidation was the game the agent wanted to play, Ren was more than willing to play along. With a movement at natural as flexing his hand, he sent scintillating sparks from the crystal on his augmented hand dancing over the metal. He tapped his fingers against the lowest rung of a rusted fire escape, dissipating the charge with a hiss. The message was clear though; I could do this to you just as easily.
"I had asked you nicely to leave," Ren said, "but you didn't listen. I'm not surprised. You enforcer types never do like to listen. I don't know what it is you want with the boy, but you're gonna have to go back to your boss and say that you failed. He's under my protection now."
"You're nothing but an upstart," the Piltovan grunted between clenched teeth, "meddling where he doesn't belong."
Ren chuckled.
"Oh, I'm an upstart, I'll agree to that," he nodded, "but as for the meddling part, I couldn't disagree more. You see," he tapped at the symbol painted on his shoulder, the hypodermic vial, "I'm a Zaunite in Zaun, and you are a Piltie who's not in Piltover anymore. Looks like you're the one meddling where he doesn't belong."
Ren strode over to the toppled man and tore the armband from him. He looked over the pattern embroidered on it. He was steadily learning the sigils of the Piltovan clans from the uniforms of the enforcers he frequently found himself at odds with. This man's clan was unknown to him.
"I think I'm gonna keep this," Ren said, waving the piece of fabric in the air, "a little present for myself. But as for you, the only souvenir you'll be taking back to Piltover is that broken arm."
The smile vanished from Ren's face as he continued to speak.
"Now run home Piltie, and never bother this child again or I'll be sending you home with a few more souvenirs. Do you understand?"
The man pulled himself to his feet and stumbled back.
"Damn you, kid," he spat.
Ren took a step back to avoid the spittle. He sighed. Then his augmented arm twitched. Sparks danced across his knuckles as, with a burst of speed from his augmented leg, he closed the distance between them in a single leap. He delivered a shocking jab right into the shoulder of the man's injured arm. The Piltie doubled over, crying out in pain. Ren seized the opportunity to introduce the man's sunburnt face to his knee. There was a snapping sound as a spray of blood from the man's broken nose spattered onto the street.
"That could have been my augmented knee, but I didn't feel like traumatizing this child any more than you already have. So, I'll ask again," Ren threatened, "do you understand me or do I need to ask him to cover his eyes?"
"I understand," the enforcer replied with a pained tone.
"Good," Ren said, an unkind grin slipping onto his face, "now, get the hell out of Zaun."
Only when the Piltie was gone did Ren let his intimidating visage drop. He looked down at the kid he had protected.
"Alright," he huffed, "now tell me exactly why that man was after you."
"His boss thought I was stealing from him," the young boy confessed.
"Were you?"
"Yeah, kinda."
"Elaborate, please."
"Well, you see, my big bro works for that man's boss and he got caught making gooey eyes at the boss man's daughter. They didn't like that. Then he gets caught sucking face with her. They really didn't like that!"
"Uh-huh."
"So then they start skimping out on his pay, trying to force him to quit. So I think, that's not fair, so I decided to steal back his stolen pay. Stupid idiot dock worker brother falling for some stupid idiot harbor master's daughter."
"Stupid idiot indeed," Ren commented, looking the kid directly in the eyes as he did.
"Exactly, you understand. Why fall for a Piltie? All the cuties with their chem-dyed hair are down here anyways."
Ren sighed.
"I was totally in the right for taking that money, right?" the kid asked, "You understand?"
"Crystal."
A look of relief passed over the kid and he flashed a big toothy grin up at Ren.
"Thanks," he chirped, "I really owe you, huh?"
"Yeah, you kinda do, luckily for you, I don't want any money."
"Well, what do you want?"
"For you to stay out of trouble," Ren gave the boy a rough pat on the head, "Don't go stealing from Pilties if you think there's a chance you're gonna get caught."
"Yeah, alright, alright."
"And you mentioned that your brother worked on the docks, right?"
"Yup. He's one of the divers. Wicked scary job, but it pays well, or you know, it's supposed to pay well."
"Well, please, tell your brother to look for another job. From what I hear, they don't really value the dock cleaner's lives up there. Oh," Ren reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper, "and please give him this."
He handed the little card to the kid who stared at the strange symbol illustrated onto it; a mask surrounded by a gear.
"This is weird," the kid commented.
"It used to look way tackier," Ren said, "it used to be a skull in there instead of a mask."
"But that sounds so cool!"
"Doesn't matter right now. What's important is that symbol belongs to a doctor who cares a lot about dock workers, cares a lot about Zaun, actually. So here's what you're gonna do. Tell your brother that if he wants to keep his job, he should consider augmenting himself, both to keep himself safe from whatever is under the water and to protect you both from any more of his boss's thugs. Have him take this card to the Church of the Glorious Evolved. They'll make sure he gets to that doctor. Got it?"
"Yup. But what if I want to be augmented? If I get ones like yours I could protect myself!"
"They may not be just like mine, but I think the Doc would help you as well, somehow," Ren said, blushing slightly, "he may seem cranky, but he's got a soft spot too, trust me."
Ren gave the kid a warm smile and turned to leave, but the kid spoke up once more.
"Oh! I didn't even get your name. Maybe my brother will listen if I tell him another grown up told him to quit."
"Grown up?" Ren mumbled under his breath, "I'm not – I'm seventeen."
He shook his head. It didn't matter.
"Call me ReN-12," he shot back to the kid.
"ReN-12?"
"Yup," he answered, quickly striking a heroic pose as he did, "I'm the augmented upstart whose name will be known all over Piltover and Zaun!"
"Wicked!"
"Now stay safe, you little punk," Ren chided with an affectionate tone.
And then he was off.
It was the evening, the sixth bell having just tolled, by the time Ren returned to the house on Emberflit.
"Hey, Doc," he called out as he closed the door behind him, "I'm home. I've got another sigil that needs identifying, and before you say anything about 'recklessly antagonizing more clans' just know that I had to do it. Piltie thug was harassing a child."
Ren walked through the house, following the sound of construction to Viktor. He was busily at work assembling some impressive looking machinery in his new workshop, the intense beam of heat from his laser welding metal to metal with ease.
"And was the child unharmed?" Viktor asked, not turning from his work.
"Shaken but not injured. If anything, I would say the kid was excited."
"Excited?"
"To be rescued by Zaun's up and coming hero," Ren beamed with pride, puffing out his chest as he spoke, "he really seem impressed by my augmentations."
"They are my creations; of course a child would be impressed by them."
"Impressed enough that I gave him the card."
Now Viktor paused his work and turned to face his apprentice.
"Do you believe he will seek us out?" he asked.
Ren shrugged.
"I have no idea, but I'm hopeful."
"Hopeful," Viktor nodded as he turned back to his work, "as am I."
