AN: Hey. So, this used to be called "Jhin's Greatest Crime", right? Don't worry, I didn't sneak a new story into your Follows/Favorites if you had that in there. Instead, I realized that I wanted to write some more comedy one-shots in that little universe, so I came up with this. I also didn't want to spam with Jhin's Greatest Crime, in another story, so I'm just molding it into this one. It's still Chapter 1. A proper prologue will come when I get around to writing it.
Yeah, it's messy, and I apologize, but this is the simplest way I could find to do it. I hope you enjoy.
"EXTERNAL SENSORS INDICATE THAT THE SUN HAS RISEN. EXIT REST MODE."
It took quite a bit of patience to get used to your own insides screaming at you. Thankfully, Urgot had little but patience. As the hulking, undead, mechanical monstrosity opened his one remaining eye, the familiar dull sense of constant pain began to fill his body.
Well, the upper half of his body. The lower half was gone.
Writhing his mechanical legs, Urgot slowly rolled out of bed and onto the ground, scrambling with at least three limbs to get to an upright position. Blinking with fatigue, the Noxian warrior slowly lurched towards the mirror.
Yep. Still Urgot.
He sighed. Why couldn't he be Talon? Talon was cool. Talon had a cape. Talon had LEGS. As he brought up an arm to longingly rest on the glass of the mirror, a metallic shriek and cracking sound reminded him. Talon also had hands.
Slowly withdrawing his bladed appendage from a new hole in the mirror. Urgot hobbled to his dresser, abruptly realizing the pointlessness of this gesture when he remembered that he did not, in fact, wear clothes. Thankfully it wasn't too gross, since his whole lower half was...gone. But he did get complaints about the nipples.
Raising his arm cannon, Urgot fired another Acid Hunter missile into his wall calendar. Leering with robotic eyes, he made a shocking discovery. Was this it? Was this the day?
Today was Urgot's birthday.
From somewhere within the horrible mounds of flesh and metal that made up his "heart", Urgot felt a bubble of joy. It felt...nice. With a little extra bounce in his...waddle, the Headsman's Pride exited into the hallway, calling out with a gravelly cry of happiness.
"EVERYONE! IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!"
There was silence. Then...mostly groaning.
"It's 4:00 AM!"
"SHUT UP!"
A furious honk came from Bard's room.
Urgot slowly realized, once again, that his internal clock caused him to wake up much earlier than most of the other Champions. It was a design flaw. It was simply typically mitigated by the fact that it usually took him a few hours to lift himself out of bed. This was also a design flaw. Urgot often wondered if he was not, in general, a design flaw.
"Oh...I'm sorry…"
A glowing orb thwacked him in the belly from a nearby door as Urgot crumpled over again, stuck on his back once more.
"Sorry, Syndra…"
This was a minor setback. After another brief period of struggling to right himself, Urgot found himself slowly lurching towards the elevator. As he gently prodded a button with the tip of his pointed blade-stub, Urgot tried to remain positive, something that was generally hard to do when your blood was 34% Zaunite Acid. Maybe this would still be a good birthday. It had just begun.
There was a pleasant ding as the elevator reached his floor. As the metallic doors swung open, Urgot hobbled inside, before getting an unfortunate shock at the look of the man already in the elevator. It was Garen, the Might Of Demacia, scourge of villains everywhere, and a guy who had chopped him in half once.
The Demacian's eyes widened, but he kept his composure as Urgot shuffled in next to him. He would have much preferred to stand in the other corner, but Urgot didn't exactly fit. "Oh! Good morning...Urgot."
Urgot tried to avert his gaze, staring at the knight's massive shoulderpads. He wished he had shoulderpads. "Good...morning."
The door seemed to close as if it was in slow motion. From somewhere down the hall, Zilean chuckled. Zilean's a real asshole.
Urgot coughed, a horrible, unnatural hacking sound. "So. It's, uh...it's my birthday."
"Oh yeah?" Garen shuffled in place. "That's...that's good."
"Uh huh."
The doors finally closed, and the elevator began to descend.
"So. Which...which birthday exactly?"
Urgot would have raised an eyebrow, if he had one. "What do you mean?"
Garen stiffened. "I mean...when you were originally born, or when they...brought you back...from being...dead. After that whole...thing."
A post-Runeterran world allowed for somewhat civil relations between former rivals, but this sort of awkward moment wasn't an uncommon occurrence.
"Oh. You mean when I got cut in-"
"Yup."
Urgot wondered how much longer this elevator ride was going to take. "It's...actually the same. When you...when someone, killed me...it was on…"
Garen paled. "Your...birthday."
Urgot slowly nodded. "Uh, yeah."
Another agonizing series of seconds passed.
"Well…" stammered the large man, with two, perfectly good, still attached legs, "I hope it goes well for you."
Urgot nodded. "I just hope nobody...cuts me in half."
Garen laughed the most forced laugh in Runeterran history.
"Ha."
Urgot replied.
"Heh."
"Ha."
"Heh."
The elevator mercifully reached the lobby floor, and both passengers scurried out in opposite directions.
As Urgot sat in the lounge, he carefully positioned himself near the door, where everyone would see him as they walked by. As many of the Institute's inhabitants left their rooms, they passed without a word. Sometimes a glare, as his early morning transgressions had evidently not been forgotten, but there were certainly no words. Not even a mumble. After a few hours of expectant lounging, the Noxian war machine sighted a kindred spirit. And behind Kindred, Sion!
"Sion!" Urgot was pleased. The Undead Juggernaut was one of his oldest friends, bonding over war, Noxus...being dead...really all of the things Urgot tended to enjoy. Surely Sion would share in his birthday cheer!
"HELLO THERE, URGOT!" screamed the hulking zombie. Sion really had no concept of an inside voice, but it certainly didn't bother Urgot, who only had the vague remnants of ears anyway.
"Have you heard the news about today?" Urgot's eyes shone as he looked up at the larger champion.
"I AM AWARE THAT IT IS YOUR BIRTHDAY! BLOOD FOR NOXUS!"
Urgot nodded, his mostly artificial heart soaring. "It is!"
Sion smiled, a truly terrifying sight. "I GOT YOU A GIFT."
A gift? This was beyond Urgot's wildest dreams! "A gift?"
Proudly, Sion reached into his satchel, revealing an old, rusted axe.
"THIS IS FOR YOU, FRIEND!"
As the massive weapon clattered to the floor in front of Urgot, he glanced at the metallic instrument. "Erm...thank you, Sion!" Common courtesy dictated that he could not tell Sion that he couldn't actually USE an axe, because he had no functioning hands. "But...isn't this your battleaxe? I would hate to take your favorite axe!"
Sion shook his head, chortling. "IT WAS! NOW I HAVE…" Reaching into his enormous knapsack created solely for the convenience of this joke, Sion revealed a much larger, shinier, and higher resolution battleaxe. "THIS! IT GOES VERY WELL WITH MY NEW SOUL FURNACE, AND MY NEW METAL JAW, AND MY NEW…"
Evidently Urgot had visibly sagged. It wasn't uncommon.
"BUT...ERM...I'M SURE YOU'LL GET NEW STUFF EVENTUALLY TOO, URGOT! LIKE MAYBE...UH…A…"
Urgot's torso had almost reached the ground at this point.
"A NICE NEW...MONOCLE...THING? I'M GONNA BE HONEST BUDDY I'VE NEVER BEEN SURE WHAT THAT IS."
Urgot shook his head. "Thanks for trying, Sion. I appreciate the gift. But...I might need some help moving it."
Unfortunately his friend had already taken off in the other direction, charging at full speed while screaming. It was something Sion tended to do when things got awkward. With a sigh, Urgot began to kick the axe along as he waddled towards the exit to the Institute courtyard. Perhaps the fresh air would do him better.
Instead, he was immediately met with a toxic cloud of gas, bursting up from the ground into his face. Coughing, Urgot sank to the ground, slowly losing consciousness. It had not been a good birthday so far.
REINITIALIZING. REVITALIZING. REVIVING. RISE AND DESTROY, URGOT.
The cyborg woke to the familiar sound of his own insides yelling at him. The central processor seemed particularly vexed today.
"You alright, big guy?" The shrill tones of Captain Teemo were enough to force Urgot upright again. Next to the Yordle, a tall woman with several tails frowned, staring the mechanical monstrosity in the face.
"We keep telling him not to leave those mushrooms around." Ahri's ears flattened in annoyance.
"So...what are you the two of you doing?" Urgot inquired, desperate to take his mind off of the birthday disappointment, if only for a moment.
Ahri's eyes lit up as she grinned. "Skin Delivery Day. We're supposed to be getting new ones this week."
Urgot's eye widened. The real one. The mechanical one just sort of jiggled. Of course! This could be it! A surprise gift...a new skin! He'd certainly enjoyed the previous ones, though bloodstained aprons and crab costumes had rather limited fashion uses. But, for Urgot, they were special.
"Incoming!" Teemo excitedly dashed backwards, Ahri quickly following behind. From above, a large crate was hurtling towards the ground, landing with a thud on the grass.
"RIOT GAMES SKIN DELIVERY" was emblazoned on the side, written in large, red ink. The fox-woman rushed forward, ripping the lid off with a ferocious swipe. "Oh. Oh. This is good."
Reaching inside, Ahri tossed a bundle to Teemo. "Astronaut suit. That's for you."
The yordle grinned, unfolding his gift. "Wow! This is fantastic! Did you get anything?"
Nodding, Ahri retrieved another package from inside the crate. "Uh huh. Looks like something...red? Not sure exactly. I'm sure it'll look nice, though. Oh, wow, they got Darius a jersey…"
As the mage rifled through the remaining contents of the box, Urgot gave an extremely conspicuous cough. "Is there...um...anything for me in there? For...Urgot? The, uh...the birthday boy?"
"Let me see!" Ahri scooped the rest of the packages into her arms and began to read the labels. "Swain, Tristana, Rengar, Ur-"
Urgot squealed, a thoroughly unpleasant sound, but Ahri's face paled.
"Oh. Uh...I'm...I'm sorry, they crossed your name out and wrote "Annie" I...I don't think this is going to fit you."
The birthday boy watched as hope was cleaved in twain before him. Just like his lower body.
"Well...maybe next week." Ahri was starting to look very uncomfortable. "I'm gonna go...deliver these. Maybe Teemo could put in a good word for you? I...I'm going to...bye."
In a burst of azure light, she was gone, and Urgot cast his eyes towards Teemo. Sadly, he saw nothing, because the Yordle had gone invisible to escape this awkward conversation. With a heavy heart, Urgot trudged back into the Institute.
"SUSTENANCE IS REQUIRED. FIND FOOD OR YOU WILL DIE. AGAIN."
Urgot's stomach was no longer in one piece, so a mechanical replacement was required. It was also very rude, but such was an unfortunate side-effect of Zaunite robotics. The hulking Noxian pushed his way through the doors to the Institute kitchens. Across the room, a woman with a menacing wingspan was furiously stirring a large pot, shouting orders to the other corner.
"Need higher heat! Do it! You think we can serve champions undercooked fish? I'll make you EAT that damned shield if Soraka has to treat salmonella again!"
Urgot recognized Pantheon as the recipient of the Fallen Angel's rather enraged requests, beads of sweat forming on his forehead, through his helmet, somehow. Maybe that was condensation. "Understood, commander! I shall fry this salmon so thoroughly that the very CONCEPT of RAWNESS is ERADICATED!" The Rakkor unleashed a mighty battle cry, rattling the cookware around him.
Urgot's mechanical eye began to zoom in on a luscious prize. A single plate of cookies sat, unattended, on the end of the long counter at the center of the kitchen. Urgot swallowed. They would be his.
"ACTIVATING TIPTOE MODULE"
Rising ridiculously to the metallic tips of his legs, Urgot began to creep through the room, not wishing to get the attention of Morgana or Pantheon. Thankfully, they both seemed preoccupied with plates on burners. After an agonizing 10 feet, Urgot finally reached the treats. Because he had no functioning arms, he had to lean forward, inching his mouth towards the cookies…
CRASH!
A kettle collided with Urgot's gut and smashed into the ground, producing a loud ringing sound. Morgana whirled on her heels, her eyes blazing with violet flames. "You!" With a throwing motion, the witch cast a burst of dark magic at the unfortunate intruder.
Urgot sighed as he felt his body freeze in place. Morgana did adore her snare spells.
"CROWD CONTROL DETECTED, FIRING COUNTERMEASURES!"
Uh oh. He had forgotten to turn that module off. From his cannon arm, Urgot involuntarily fired a missile. A Zaunite Acid Hunter. Powerful enough to melt through a tank. Certainly enough for an oven.
The hissing projectile lodged itself within Morgana's cooking station, and as the angel looked on in horror, it exploded, splattering her stove with noxious chemicals that ate away at it, dissolving the very metal. It also totally ruined the potatoes.
Urgot was so embarrassed, he forgot he was snared in place. And leaning over. As Morgana's hex wore off, he crashed to the floor, the colossal quake that followed scattering ingredients and utensils all over the floor. The Noxian sighed as a ladle crashed down on his head. "I...I might need some help getting up."
Urgot sat alone in the courtyard, the bench sagging under the weight of metal and flesh. Mere minutes remained in his birthday, and he thought back on it.
It sucked.
Well, that was about all the reflection he needed. The massive Noxian sighed deeply.
"URGOT!"
As he cast his eyes upward, Urgot saw Morgana stomping towards him. He sighed and activated his Terror Capacitor, prepared for an assault from the angry baker. She hadn't been pleased when it had taken herself and Pantheon an hour to clean up the kitchen, and another to get him back upright again.
"Yes?" Urgot sighed sadly. "I already apologized. Is there anything else."
She nodded. "Of course! But not from me."
A shadow appeared on the moon above. Urgot watched with equal parts awe and terror as Pantheon descended from his massive leap, landing with a crash in front of the bench. As the dust settled, Urgot saw that the Rakkor held in his hands no spear, no shield, but a large, frosted, cake.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, URGOT!"
The doors flung open and the champions of the League rushed outside, clapping and cheering happily. Urgot was stunned.
"But...I thought…you…"
With a smirk, Master Yi shook his head. "We would never forget such an occasion for one of our fellow champions."
Another cheer rose as the Headsman began to smile. "You were waiting for a surprise party! Guys! This is...this is…"
"This is a massive narrative cliche, and it honestly makes no sense that we wouldn't have told you earlier. Furthermore, Pantheon probably should have gotten dust all over that cake, or somethng like that.", Sona said. Or, at least she wanted to. Sadly, she couldn't speak. So she just smiled.
Garen approached Urgot, clapping him jovially on the shoulder and handing him an envelope. "We got you gifts!"
Excitedly, Urgot read the message aloud. "I promise never to lop off one of your limbs again, except maybe on accident- Garen."
The Demacian looked expectantly at the birthday boy, who was beginning to tear up. "That...that is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me, Garen."
"Don't forget this one!"
In another flash of light, Ahri reappeared, breathing heavily. "I've been...dashing around all day getting the finishing touches put on it. Needed rubies for the eyes, had to get Taric to cut them...just...look!"
A costume was pressed into Urgot's lap, and his heart filled with joy as he read the label. "Battlecast...URGOT?"
Ahri grinned widely. "Yup! There was something in there for you, but we figured since it had been a while...you deserved some extra touches. Sorry it took this long."
Urgot's reverence at the new skin was broken only by Sion hoisting him onto his shoulders, the Undead Juggernaut roaring with joy. "LET'S ALL HEAR IT FOR URGOT, AN UNFORGETTABLE CHAMPION!"
Cheers erupted as Urgot looked over the group, Morgana waving a hand.
"Alright, everyone. There's been a bit of a...setback in the kitchen, so eat well tonight! There's enough cake for everybody! Just make sure Cho gets to it last."
Surrounded by his friends, bitter rivals, and weird shit like Bard, all of whom still wished to celebrate his special day, Urgot felt a foreign sensation. Happiness. He gazed at the moon's reflection in the courtyard lake and smiled.
Truly, it had been a wonderful birthday.
Deep beneath the festivities, under the lake's reflective surface, a large figure lumbered towards a tiny table. He sat down next to it, the rusted joints of his diving suit creaking from the pressure. Lighting a single enchanted waterproof candle on his single enchanted waterproof cupcake, Nautilus sighed heavily.
"Happy...Birthday...to me…..Happy Birthday...to me…."