So yeah, here's chapter 2, I really ought to start naming these chapters. I've been toying with different ideas as far as how I want Lad's character to progress. This chapter, for the most part was meant to be a little more light-hearted, more to advance the setting. I promise the adventure and action elements are coming.
So, Lad's trying to get a job. Shenanigans.
Disclaimer: I don't own League of Legends, and I'm broke, don't sue me plz :D
Revered
I'm standing in a small [to me] kitchen; my hands empty, a white towel tucked around my torso like an apron. The place reeks of sweetness, and there are shelves of sticky looking lolipops, gumdrops, candy sticks, and chocolate bars. The soft smell of baking pastries wafts through the confectionary.
I'm standing in front of a wooden island, bowls and measuring cups strewn about; other utensils dangle haphazardly from hooks and hangers in the rafters, occasionally brushing over my head as I look around.
"Well," an older and, in relative to the general population, bigger yordle woman coughed "We don't have all day, what'cha gonna make?"
How did I get into this situation again?
(Flashback)
"So, what do you plan to do now?" Tristana asks, chipper despite the early morning.
"I don't know . . . I think I need to find a job, I can't stay here," I reply, rubbing the grogginess from my eyes.
"Well, what sort of things can you do? Maybe I can help you find one."
" . . . "
"You don't remember, do you?"
3rd Person PoV
There'd been quite the turn of events from that point. Lad, as he'd been affectionately nicknamed, had been across Bandle City and back looking for work. The wary looks of passing yordlefolk hadn't abated since the celebration, in fact they seemed to intensify with the lack of festivity. Doing his best to ignore the distrust evident around him, Lad persevered in his search.
Considering the party that had just taken place the night before, employee deficit was not exactly the first thing on anyone's mind. Bandle City was a mess of litter, the canopy of ribbons that had once veiled the streets now fluttered weakly on the cobblestone. Eventually Lad volunteered to help clean up the festivities from the previous night, receiving 5 bandles for his trouble. Tristana had helped him find that one. Not really steady employment, but a start. Though Lad knew that finding a job would not be simple, he hadn't expected it to be as difficult as it was proving to become.
Eventually Trist found him sitting at a park bench and had, in her usual high-energy way, invited him to take a break and get a snack. By snacking, she meant candy. What else would a yordle snack on? They reached the Confectionary, 'the Sweetery', and after enjoying a creme flavored lolipop, Tristana struck up a conversation with the store owner.
This leads us to our current situation: she tried to get Lad a job . . . at the candy store. She knew the old lady from the stand and, after a good deal of what could only be seen as pestering, got the reluctant lady to give the Lad a chance.
The Lady had pointed her spoon at Lad, and said: "I don't have time to teach you the basics, though! Tell'ya what, if you c'n make something, anything good enough to sell, I'll make some use of ya."
(End Flashback)-1st Person PoV
Tristana seemed oddly passionate that I take the challenge, saying that it was "for the noblest of causes." Sweets? Noble? I don't remember if I was ever a good cook. I'm probably going to fail. Miserably. It's evident that the lady (Grizelda, was it?) is losing her patience.
"Come on, Lad, you can do it!" Trist poked her head through the doorway into the kitchen.
"Acha! Out of the kitchen! You know what happened last time!" Grizelda screeched, making a shooing motion at the Bandle Gunner. Groaning exasperatedly, Tristana retreated back to the store front.
"I'll be back in an hour or so, see ya Lad!" she called, as I hear the door bell jingle on her way out. At times, these people seem so much like children to me.
Grizelda returns her stare to me, tapping her foot brisquely. I blankly stare at the counter. I can't think of anything. Why did I agree to try this? Does this even matter? This feels so far outside my comfort zone; I'm not even sure where that zone is supposed to end. Everything is new to me. Screw this. I'm getting frustrated. I wish that I never had agreed to do this. This is embarrassing me. Something inside of me tells me that "you have to try!" No, I don't, I can walk away and wallow in misery as much as I want!
. . . Somehow, I feel disappointed with myself. Didn't I tell myself last night that this was my second chance? Now, I don't even want to try. I can't believe I'm talking myself into trying something I know nothing about. I'm sure I could find a job somewhere else, I just have to keep looking.
. . . But for some reason, I feel like I want to take this challenge. Maybe it's because a friend helped me get here, what kind of friend would I be if I didn't take the chance? This is ridiculous, I'm having an emotional meltdown over making a dessert!
"Like I said, Lad, I don't have all day!" You don't have to raise your voice so loud, lady. Screw it. I'm doing it. I just have to make something that people will buy, right?
3rd Person PoV
"Do you have any cream?" Lad asked, trying to think of what to make.
"It's in the ice box." Grizelda gestured at a latched chest in the corner. "Don't use too much."
Lad opened up the chest, it's white enamel cold to the touch, and retrieved a small bottle of cream; he dared not wonder what kind of animal the little folk used for milk. As he closed the lid, little flecks of ice crystals tickled his palms. A wave of nostalgia hit him. As though he'd done something like this before. Hiding behind the back of his mind, he could almost hear a faint whisper.
" . . . I think it's time I retired the countryside." An old man's voice wobbled. "Well, youngin', you've been a great help to me with the restaraunt. My son's never were interested in taking over the ole family business, so it looks like she'll be closing down for good when I'm gone-"
"You're not going to die yet, old man," the young lad interceded.
"Maybe, maybe not! But, just the same, I wanted to entrust something to you for all your help. I never did get a chance to serve it, but it's my secret recipe; only a few have ever tried it. And when I'm gone, I want you to know it . . ."
"Can I use the ice?" Lad asked, recovering from a momentary stupor. He felt like he'd remembered something, but couldn't place what it was.
"Sure? But make sure you don't touch the piece of true ice inside the lid there! That's the cooling unit," Grizelda quipped.
A few scrapes and the Lad had a mixing bowl full of ice. Setting the bowl on the counter, he instinctively reached for the sugar, stopped when he realized he didn't know what he was doing, and then shrugged when it suddenly made sense to add sugar to a dessert. This same process repeated with a few other items that he added to the cream. At one point, he turned to face Grizelda, only to see that she had left the kitchen. He peeked through the doorway to see her at the front desk, tending to some excited children.
He returned, nested a bowl of cream mixture into the bowl of ice, and began stirring.
An hour passed, and the mixture had become hard to stirr. All the while, Lad had wondered to himself how he'd thought up such a strange recipe. The cream had become semi-solid, not hard, like most frozen things became. Perhaps it was the stirring?
Removing the bowl from it's icy bath, Lad walked back to the front desk. Grizelda was there waiting for him.
"I'm finished," he held out the bowl of his concoction, droplets of moisture condensing on it's outside.
" . . . What is it?" Grizelda crinkled her nose as she stared into the thick white solution.
"I don't know what to call it . . . "
"And you want me to try it?" For looking so much older than other yordles, she still had a childlike manner; halfway pouting as she looked at the bowl. Now it was the Lad's turn at losing his patience.
"I've taken a great deal of your time to make this, it would be a waste if you didn't try it," Lad replied, trying his best to smile and sound polite.
"I don't know if I want to . . . It looks funny. I don't think it will sell like that . . . "
"I'll try it!" the two jumped at the high pitched voice, and looked over to see a fuzzy little youngling peeking over the counter at them with bright eyes. A few other little yordles scurried out from around the aisles, clutching various candies in their fists.
"What is it?"
"I wanna try too!"
Eventually there were five or six little children gaping wide-eyed at the flabbergasted pair behind the counter.
Grizelda looked at Lad with an expression that said "I'll handle this."
"Y'see little'uns, this isn't your ordinary treat! Only the bravest souls ever even dare to try the . . . the . . . " She deadpanned, and quickly whispered to Lad "you used cream and ice, right?" He nodded "-THE Freljord's Iced Cream!" She finished dramatically. The freljord was known to be a harsh place, even the children would know that; Grizelda was sure that mentioning the frozen wasteland would spook the kids off.
" . . .COOL!" The children chimed. Grizelda facepalmed. The children looked at the bowl in wonder, almost as if expecting ice spirits and frozen mana to start bubbling to the surface. It was obvious that they weren't planning on withdrawing.
"Fine! But be warned, there's a reason only brave souls dare taste this treat!" Grizelda warned idly, watching on as the children held their ground unfazed.
"I'll try it!" familiar voice calls, the door jingles as Tristana steps into the Sweetery. As the children turned to gawk at their peoples' champion, Grizelda rapidly swished her hand back and forth across her throat in a cutting motion; signalling Tristana to fall back. Tristana paid her no mind, instead opting to dive into the situation recklessly.
"Oh, brave hero, won't you take the challenge of Freljord's Iced Cream?" Grizelda ghasped, horror painting her chubby cheeks as the words escaped Lad's mouth in a dramatic fashion. He smiled. This was surprisingly fun.
"Yes! I volunteer! Hit me with all you've got!" Tristana replied in a likewise fashion, glee and passion burning in her eyes! Lad held out a spoonfull of the 'Freljord Iced Cream', as it had been affectionately named, to the Bandle Gunner across the counter. The Shopkeeper could barely contain her embarrasment. The children cheered in glee.
"Here, 'tis but a taste of the horror Iced Cream can dish out!"
"Hah! Bring it on! Aaah-mnmph!" Trist latched onto the spoon with her mouth.
. . . And then everything got really quiet. Tristana stood there with a blank expression on her face, her pupil slightly constricted, the spoon handle dangling haphazardly from her lips. Grizelda hid behind the counter. The children watched with bated breath. Lad waved his hand in front of her face a couple of times.
"Um . . . Trist?"
No answer. Seeing the spoon sliding a little bit more out of her mouth, Lad went to pull it out.
"Seriously, though, was it that bad?" He sighed. So much for that idea.
As he reached for the handle, his wrist was caught by Tristana's four-fingered hand. For being so small, her grip was very pronounced, it almost hurt.
" . . .-re" a little noise barely escaped her lips.
"What . . . ?" Lad nervously chuckled, worried he'd offended her somehow.
"MORE!" In a flurry of activity, the bowl was gone from the counter, and heading for the door, Tristana in tow.
"Wait! Come back here!" Lad leapt over the short counter-top to give chase.
"NOPE!" She ran fast for being so short.
Grizelda peered over the counter, and sighed in relief seeing that the pair was gone. She'd witnessed many a yordle go into a frenzy over a good dessert, this reaction had been particularly violent. The old shopkeeper daintily walked towards her kitchen, seemingly free from the trouble the two visitors had caused.
"Hey, Granny Griz! Can we still try the Freljord Iced Cream?" She jolted back to reality by the children now accosting her.
"Can we? Can we?" the little ones parroted. Grizelda cocked her head to the side lightly, and made a creepily blank face.
"I'm afraid that was the last of our stock . . . " She stepped through the kitchen doors. The children didn't dare challenge her stare.
"Can't we talk about this?"
"No!"
"But,"
"Nope!"
"But!"
"No can do, pal!"
Lad was barely keeping up with the high energy Tristana that was zipping down the street. Every time he got close, she seemed to make a sharp turn, or a narrow tumble away, the bowl of ice-cream clutched to herself. He got close once more, panting uncontrollably, when she shot around the corner of a building. He did his best to grab the corner of the building to pivot himself after her, when he knocked into something hard. The force bounced him off of his feet and sent him sprawling onto the street. As he righted himself he heard heavy thumps of metal hitting concrete.
"Hey! Watch where you're going!" A gruff voice sounded above him. Lad groaned as he rolled over and clammered to his feet. In front of him stood the same bipedal machine from yesterday's celebration, the same yordle in the cock-pit. The crowds had called him Rumble.
"Sorry, I was just in a hurry, I still need to catch-"
"Well, if it wasn't me and Tristy you ran into, you coulda killed someone!" Rumble butted in.
"Tristy?" Lad repeated, confused. That sounded a lot like another name he knew.
"My mech. Got a problem with that?"
"No sir, I was just confused-"
"About what?" the fuzzy yordle seemed defensive.
"W-well, I was just chasing after Tristana, and-" the Mech-suit grabbed Lad by the scruff of his collar. Lad was now eye level with Rumble.
"You were chasing Trist!?"
"L-lemme explain!"
"You've got ten seconds, bub!"
"Hah! Ahahaha! She's on a sugar rush!? Why didn't you say so?" the whole mech shook with mirth as Rumble guffawed at Lad's story. How the young man had explained himself so quickly was a mystery, but Rumble had got the gist of the story.
"Yes! Can you please put me down now?" Lad swayed against Tristy's grip in discomfort.
"Hehehe, H'yeah sure," Rumble fiddled with the controls and plopped Lad solidly on his feet.
So, you still planning on finding her?"
"I have to, she still has the Shop Lady's bowl, it would be rude not to return it." Lad replied, trying his best to reason soundly. Truth be told, he was still winded from the previous chase.
"Well, good luck, pal! I hope you find her before night falls; she's long gone by now. I wish I could say I knew where to find her, but to be honest I don't have a clue where to look!" Rumble said, beginning to turn his mech around.
"You know her, don't you? There must be somewhere you'd know."
"Sorry, Pal, but I meant it when I said I don't have a clue. She knows EVERYONE in this city, so she could have hid out just about anywhere," Rumble replied in a fond tone, betraying a bit of his affection for the bandle gunner. He looked down on Lad's crestfallen demeanor.
"Hmm, I guess you could try Teemo . . . he gets a little more time around her, maybe he'd know." Lad perked up at that.
"Thank you, where can I find him?"
"He actually lives out of town just a way, there's a mailbox with his name on it off the main road."
"He lives out of town?" Lad asked, confused.
"Hey, don't ask, ok. He's a little strange if you ask me." Rumble shrugged.
"At any rate, thank you, Rumble, I'll try Teemo next," Lad gave a slight bow as he turned to go, Rumble smirked as he went. Then his eyes dawned with realization.
"H-hey! You didn't give me your name!" Rumble called after him.
" . . . I guess my name is Lad. That's what seems to fit."
"Well, Lad, I hope you find her. Be careful in the wooded areas, it's a little dangerous if you don't know your way!"
"I'll do my best. thank you!"
(1st Person PoV)
The sun getting closer to the horizon, and I've been walking on this dirt road for a good while. I'm still confused with how things turned out this way, this definitely hasn't been the job search that I've been expecting. I find it funny that I'm walking OUT of town so that I can figure out how to find someone IN town. Grand. I hope I make it back before dark. There's some birds chirping, and occasionally I see a little glowing creature flittering through the trees; it's tiny purple body shimmering in the afternoon sun. I feel like I've seen it somewhere.
I continue to step along the path as my thoughts wander. How exactly am I supposed to work this conversation? Hi, I'm Lad, you don't know me in any way, but somehow I gave Tristana a sugar rush and she's ran off. Do you know where I can find her? . . . Yeah. Ok. Alright. I'm probably one of the most awkward people on the face of this planet, and I'm on a quest to gather information. Why is this even important anyway? One would think that my life would be exciting after losing my memories: full of adventure, intrigue, and action. I guess that's not the plan. Oh well, I guess this is fine; I'll just get a job and live among the little people for the rest of my-
Somethings not right.
I stop. How long have I been walking like this? And I still haven't seen the stupid mailbox? I must have taken a wrong turn. But something still feels off to me. I look around me, there's nothing really out of the ordinary, it's just a little quiet that's all. Right. I hear a twig snap, more like a great pile of twigs snapping. I jump and my skin crawls as the foliage ahead begins to rustle more twigs snap.
I'm out! I leave the twig snaps to their own business and bolt back toward town. I hear something like a roar behind me, but I'm not checking to find out what it was. I'll just look for Tristana some other way, there's got to be another way to find-
"Fuzzy!" A high voice echoes from the trees. My vision swirls, and I feel like I'm tripping. I feel like my guts have been rearranged, and my vision is still swirling. I'm struck with a feeling of vertigo as my eyes right themselves and I can see clearly now as I fall to my paws.
Wait a second . . .
/Revered
So, yeah, that's the second chapter; it's a little bit shorter than last chapter, but I felt like I needed to update soon.
Oh, Lad, what have you done? Yes, ice cream is a novel concept in Runeterra, considering I've never heard nor seen any reference to it in any of the canon; so there, I pulled out my creative license and I used it. I've never been really good with adding fluff to stories, so I've been pushing myself to do that more; hopefully I'm not adding too much that it's boring. Again, any thoughts are appreciated. It's been good so far and I hope to advance the plot even more next chapter.