A/N: Here with another chapter of HTUB. A constant theme I have is renaming champions to make them into people that are human, like the rest of us (I hope; if you're not, hmu I wanna meet you) (unless you're tryna kill me) (not appreciated).

As such, since they're human, their personalities will change from what is "canon" of League of Legends lore. Jinx, for example, will be closer to my own personality than the bat-shit crazy motherfucker that she is in the Jinx trailer (but she'll still be crazy as fuck, dw) (cuz I'm crazy af too).

Here's chapter 2!

EDIT:

the guest reviewer who said this was a "lame story" because its "more of an OC story and not about Vi". I have two things; one, sorry you feel that way, and two, did you even read the end of this chapter? I like constructive reviews but I often find myself displeased with nonsensical ones. Please, if you are going to review my story, review it properly.

That being said, you've added +1 review to my count. Thanks, and have fun in life good sir/ma'am. For the rest of you, I hope you enjoy the chapter.

-Skij

Chapter 2:

"Dude, you fuckin' hit her way too hard."

"Sorry, I didn't know we were abducting lower schoolers. You just told me to hit the person they grabbed."

"I distinctly remember telling you to just fuckin' tap her. Not swing like a fuckin' baseball player."

"Sorrrry, Jason, maybe you should do the "tapping" next time."

"Fuck you."

As Victoria came to, she managed to keep her eyes shut so she could listen to her kidnappers. She pretended to stir, rolling away from the voices so she could open her eyes a little. The voices went silent for a few seconds to make sure she wasn't awake, and then continued.

"Love you too, Jason. At least she's alive... Now what are we supposed to do with a ten year old kid?"

"She's twelve, and she's useful. She's the bait to get to her brother..."

"Whose brother is... Oh, no. Not him."

"Yep. And if he got the tip-off, he'll be at the spot any second."

"Jason, you are one clever, bat-shit crazy son of a bitch, you know that?"

Victoria tried desperately to see where they were, but by rolling over she had effectively faced herself against the wall and could only see part of a symbol on the wall. It extended past her vision range, however, and she forgot that she was supposed to be asleep as she sat up to see what the full image looked like.

"Hey, look; she's awake!" Panic surged through her as she tried to examine the whole symbol; it was like a compass, with four lines making up the cardinal and diagonal directions, with 3 concentric circles surrounding it. Horror took over her brain as she felt hands on her shoulders; the contact sent her jumping out of bed. She hit her head on the floor with a resolute thud, and her eyes involuntarily shut. Dialogue floated in and out as footsteps approached and ghost hands lifted her into the bed again.

"You think she's alright?"

"Honestly, I don't give a fuck. The only person that matters in this equation is her brother. Tie her ankles to that pipe on the wall and lets go."

"You don't think that's a little cruel, Jason?"

A thud was audible, followed by a spitting noise.

"One more word out of you besides 'Yes sir' and I'll cuff you to the pipe along with her. Understood?"

"Yes... sir."

"And do you really think I care if she's comfortable or not? Just tie her and lets go!"

Victoria felt recovered enough when the student named Jason left the room; she'd seen him go through her half-opened eyelids with hazy vision, but she could feel that he was gone. It's like he...

"It's like he controls your fear, isn't it?"

Victoria snapped to attention, looking at the other student who was previously with Jason, holding an outstretched hand.

"Please, come. I'd rather not hurt you, miss..?"

"Vi-...Vic-... Victoria." She managed to slip out. Sliding off the bed without his help, she made her way over to the pipe on the wall and sat next to it, laying down with her left leg raised, resting it on the pipe. The boy's eyes widened when he realized that she had been listening the whole time.

"Well... Miss Victoria... I'm not sure if anyone's coming back for you... ever. So... here." The blonde boy spoke as he struggled with himself, cuffing her ankle to the pipe while trying to avoid looking down the skirt of a little girl and at the same time mentally berating himself for getting into this job in the first place.

"Look." He began as he made his way over to the bed, grabbing all of the sheets and covers in a couple quick motions, carrying them in a pile with the pillow on top towards her.

"It gets cold in here at night; there are holes in the ceiling's infrastructure and there's no heater, so take these." He plopped the bedding down next to her.

"And... wait at least a day and then unlock yourself with this key. Don't make me regret this..." He reluctantly slipped her the key and shuddered when her gloved hand came into contact with his rough, calloused hand.

"Goodbye, Victoria." The boy moved towards the door-opening, stopping in the frame with his right hand holding onto the wall.

"And... good luck." As Victoria heard the footsteps plodding away, she immediately unlocked herself from the pipe and arranged the covers so that she had an appropriate bed space and so they covered the pipe in case someone came to check on her. After looking around the room for her backpack, Victoria dragged it behind a cupboard near where her head would lie and pulled her journal out, immediately scribbling her best sketch of the boy who had been in the room for less than a minute. After completing it, she wrote a quote above her new sketch that made her shiver; the first words he had spoken to her.

"It's like he controls your fear..." She wrote over 'controls' and 'fear' repeatedly until they became thick lines before re-inserting the journal into her backpack. Shivering, she noticed that if she laid down in the makeshift bed, the sky was visible through the central hole in the ceiling, among others; thankfully, there wasn't one directly above her head in case it rained. As she lay there, cold and shivering, she began to cry. She wasn't sure why, or when it had started, but she was suddenly sobbing forcefully and tears were streaming down her cheeks, collecting in a wet spot on her shirt.

I gasped as cold water lapped at my ankles. I attempted to sit up, only to realize that I was already standing up.

"Weird," I thought as I looked around the room. It was a completely open room; no furniture, no doors, walls completely painted white. It was like one of those containment cells they put people with superpowers into, like in the movies.

I then looked down, noticing that I was ankle deep in ice cold water that was pitch black; I had no idea what was underneath the surface and I couldn't even see my own toes. Looking up again, I noticed a small window about 3 by 3 feet up near the ceiling; it would be impossible to reach unless there was some furniture in the room.

Finally, I started towards the middle of the room; maybe the furniture was invisible, or maybe it was white to blend in with the room, or-

"Oof!" I yelped as I realized a bit too late that my left ankle was chained to something submerged and I fell, spluttering, into the glacial pool. Pushing up and out of the water, I realized that my ankle was now free, but I assumed the pipe had burst and water had be gun to fill the room rapidly. As the water rose beyond my neck, I was forced to tread water to breathe, moving ever so slightly towards the window. When I had finally reached the window, I noticed the water level was rising faster than it had when I first broke the pipe and it quickly rose over my eyes before I could even see what color the windowpane was. Darkness enveloped me, and the last thing I saw before I couldn't hold my breath any longer were my gloves, glowing blue and pink along the knuckles.

Victoria awoke from her dream in a cold sweat; her first thought was to look at her gloves. They weren't glowing but they did feel warm, a stark contrast to the icy cold she felt at the moment. During the night, she had managed to shift farther from the cupboard and had lost her covers in the process. The cloudy skies that she could see through the various holes stopped her from being able to see if the sun was out, but Victoria could only guess that she'd been asleep for a few hours, at best.

Looking down towards her ankles, she realized she had rolled them into a puddle; causing the sensation that she had experienced in her dream.

"The dream..." Victoria murmured, crawling towards her backpack and covers, hoping to reinstill some warmth into her almost-numb limbs. Scrambling to the pallet she had created with sheets and a comforter, Victoria huddled herself in the corner of the room, rubbing her shoulders rapidly while crossing her arms across her chest. She honestly didn't even care if those other students came back; she had uncovered the pipe, showing the unlocked handcuffs. All Victoria wanted was to go home.

"Surely a teacher would've noticed my absence right? We had some test today... Surely they have protocol; they would've notified my par-" A choking sob filled the girl's throat as she stopped her thoughts from articulating any further. Deepening her breaths, Victoria attempted to calm down, sending her mind to her happy place; some people's would include flowers and ponies... but not Victoria. Closing her eyes, she began to imagine what it would be like to live in New Piltover. Flying cars, talking AI to have as friends...

Vi shuddered as her eyes opened again; the last time she'd had a true friend was her brother before... back during better circumstances. She hadn't even been very close with her sister over the years, either. Friends seemed to be a nonexistant commodity. Looking up from her seated position, she noticed the symbol again on the wall; a chill ran down her spine, but the reaction was overall less drastic from the first time.

Victoria shivered again as she scribbled the symbol into her notebook, even though she had spent the past few minutes warming up. Victoria stuffed her journal and pillow into her bag and stood up. Grabbing her shoes off of the cupboard and putting them on, she hastily made her way outside- she couldn't remain here any longer. She wanted to go save her brother from whatever trouble he would be in with that Jason guy, but she feared she'd just get in the way. Like she always seemed to do.

So instead, she made her way towards the largest central area of the slums and never looked back. She wouldn't be a burden to anyone else there, would she?

The first thing Victoria noticed was a charcoal-burnt taste in her mouth, similar to eating anything that her father tried to fix up on their grill at home. Her brother would always laugh at the faces she made as she forced the various burnt goods down her throat, stuffing his own face in the process.

Wait… my brother?

Victoria attempted to open her eyes and in doing so managed to get running liquid into her left eye with crust, dirt and debris into her right. Screwing her eyes shut, Victoria brushed her right arm over her eyes in attempt to clear them, to no avail; she now felt the liquid on both her face and her arm, and more crust ended up in her eyes. She really needed some…

Water… The lake!

Victoria slipped her eyes open enough to see and squinted while crawling her way towards the general direction of the lake- once or twice she had bumped into something, but she took no heed- her eyes were burning and red had started to seep into her vision on her left side.

Just a little more… Just a lit- aah!

The brunette's failure to see out of both eyes threw off her depth perception, and she went tumbling down the short shoreline into the 2 foot deep water of the lake. When Victoria realized she could stand, the panic wore off and she began to clean her face off gingerly. Finally opening both of her eyes fully and surveying the area, she immediately began to wish she hadn't.

Since she had been relatively far away from the explosion, Victoria assumed that she hadn't taken the worst of the damage. Evidence to her thoughts was displayed by the many bodies that were scattered around, some still moving and others not. Victoria shivered, partly from the cold and partly from the scene in front of her as she pulled out a small circular mirror from a sewn-in skirt pocket to see what condition she was in.

A large cut crossed her left eyebrow with another donning her right cheek. As she slid the mirror into her pocket and stepped her left leg onto the shore, she noticed a long cut down her left calf and the skinning of both of her knees. Her skirt was torn down the side so she ripped it off, leaving a pair of neon pink Nike shorts. Before throwing her skirt onto the bank, she noticed the schematics of various things she had picked up during the fair, slipping them into her waistband before attempting to step out of the lake.

A pain shot through her upper left arm as she pushed up over the ledge she had gracefully tripped over earlier; the surprise sent her face-first into the mud of the bank, leaving her knees dug into the rough sand/dirt hybrid of the shore. Still throbbing in more places than she could count, Victoria pushed up with her good arm and stood up. Raising her head for the second time, she braced herself for the horrific scene again; this time, she could see the extent of the carnage that the explosion of presumably fireworks had dealt. She definitely wasn't prepared; Victoria immediately threw up onto the skirt she had tossed over here earlier.

Definitely can't wear that anymore.

Victoria steeled herself and set out in no particular direction; a grim expression plastered across her face. She forced herself to bite her lip as hard as she could, drawing blood and praying that the pain would prevent another fear-induced expulsion of bodily fluids. Occasionally, she would trip across an arm or leg; most didn't move, but twice she felt the limb jerk in response to contact. Guilt ate away at her as she scrambled away quickly; there wasn't much she could do to help anyways. In fact, the closer she got to the initial fireworks, the worse the injuries became for the patrons on the ground. Victoria tried to ignore most, but sometimes the scene was so grotesque that she couldn't help but stare in awe at the masses that had once been human.

The walk seemed to go on forever before she tripped across a splayed body; this one a female with blonde hair, smaller than the rest of the attendants at the fair. Familiarity's sake brought Victoria to kneel down and roll the figure over.

Nah; there's no way; she probably wasn't even close to the-

A gasp interrupted the brunette's thought process as the girl's face came into view, and the conscious girl's face blanched in terror.

"Jess! Jessica! Jessica, wake up. Jess!" Victoria screamed repeatedly, shaking her sister's body over and over until a groan escaped the prone girl's lips; Victoria fell silent and put an ear to her sister's chest, seeking the soothing sound of a heartbeat and hearing a faint thud-thud. Victoria sat cross-legged next to the blonde, dragging her into a half-seated position and running her dusty hands through her sister's tangled and bloody hair as her head laid in her younger sister's lap. Speaking comforting words into her sister's ear, Victoria began to cry.

It's gonna be alright Jess, we'll be ok... the police will find us... we'll be ok. We'll get you some help... they're on their way, I can hear the sirens... Maybe they'll send us a NewP airbus; you're pretty damn special. It'll be ok, Jess...

Victoria's own strength eventually gave out and she fell back, her legs extending out in front as Jessica fell to lay on her stomach. The last Victoria saw was the sun rising over the horizon and wondering if it would be the last sunrise she'd ever see.

Slipping in through her bedroom window made her feel like a criminal. In a way, she was one; she would be inflicting severe injury upon her brother and sister when the note she was going to leave was found. It was all planned out on the short, thirty-minute walk from school, spent initially avoiding any NewP guards that might still be lingering around late at night. The school was close enough to the border to warrant interest of the NewP side; its proximity even caused some of the poorer NewP parents to send their kids to school in Old Piltover. Of course, being poor in NewP essentially made you a god of OldP and the kids of those parents who attended acted as if they were such.

Like that asshole, Jason.

Her own vulgar thoughts shocked herself before she shook her head and mentally berated herself.

We're gonna live on the streets now, Vi. We've gotta survive, act tough, be tough. We can't act frilly about stupid cuss words, now can we?

That was another thing that she'd come up with on the walk over. She had needed a new name but wasn't one of those kids who resented the name they were given; instead, she decided to go with an abridged version of her own. She'd attempted a pair of pronunciations of Vi- vee and vai- and chose the latter. She ddin't consider herself quite at the V for Vendetta level of badassery yet.

But Victoria... shouldn't be allow ourselves one last moment of childhood before we leave?

But I am our childhood; you'll be taking over from here on out. We can't afford any childish mistakes out there, and I want us to start as soon as possible.

Fine. But don't feel bad about it when you're the one crying on the inside later and I'm the one holding us together.

Victoria and Vi, the inner voices within, argued throughout the packing of her go-bag. All Victoria could do was hope that she'd manage well enough to survive on her own. After packing two days worth of food and a couple bottles of water, a pocket knife, her notebook and a pair of pens, Victoria glanced in the mirror and almost lost it. Her face seemed like that of a significantly older teen, if not of a young adult; her hair cut painfully jagged with her pocket knife, her necklace placed on her sister's dresser as a farewell gift.

She also threw on a large, grey nondescript hoodie that swamped her figure and more importantly could cover her face when she needed it to; with this done, the redone Vi/ctoria[A/N:1] sat down to write her note. Originally, she had planned on writing a long, graceful farewell, but couldn't- her eyes filled with tears half-way through and she could barely make out the paper, let alone continue writing. Crumpling it up and throwing it away, Vi wiped her eyes and flipped out her pocket knife to begin carving a simple message into the counter-top. It read:

I love you. Sorry. -Vi- in three short lines. Blowing away the shavings, Vi inspected her work and smiled a sad, knowing smile, praying and hoping that her actions wouldn't destroy her family further.

They're strong. They'll survive. They'll even do better without you- since you and Jessica don't have jobs, brother works even harder just to feed all of us. They'll be happier without you- richer without you- glad to not have to deal with you anymore- you're just a burden.

Victoria tried to shake these thoughts from her mind but failed; her mind told her that it was using pure logic and logic won over her actions... and her heart. Disarming her pocket knife and sliding it into a pair of her sister's old jeans, Vi set out onto the street towards the slum sub-city carefully dubbed Revolt'ip, or RP for short. It was a tough city from what Victoria had read in her multitude of books still sitting on her shelves, (she'd debated on bringing some but decided they'd weigh her down) but she knew that if she could survive the toughest, she'd come out stronger than she could ever imagine.

A/N:

#1- You'll see moreso of her dual-personality aspects next chapter; for those of you into psychology, Vi/ctoria is not DID but has simply created Vi as a means to an end to protect herself; it's simply her brain protecting and preserving the entire body as a whole by changing her own behavior and actions. Not quite DID because she doesn't request to be called Vi and other times Victoria. If she did I think that'd be the only thing separating her current system of defensive mechanisming and dissociative. I hope that's not too confusing.

I know the timelining is slightly confusing for now, but I promise once the side-plot finishes you'll only have to deal with two perspective/time changes instead of three.

Thanks for the support of my remake! I hope to keep it higher quality than it was before.

(P.S. Why does a bathroom have a bed and holes in the ceiling (and no actual fuckin' toilets)? Because this is Old Piltover, that's why.)

-Skij