VIKTOR
The saying of a 'enter a man, leave a better one' would be a joke for most, be it Piltovan or Zaunite.
For Viktor, right there and now, his mask back on, it was an understatement.
It'd take some more time than usual to get used to it, but the new, mechanical left arm was now a lot better than the makeshift prosthetic he had to rely on before, feeling some of the autonomy he did miss, and now would indeed be put to better use. So much that new arm, as well as the Hexclaw now better adjusted and the new addition he could now use to take the Hex Core, some staff with a cage which the Hex Core could fit in, and he could use to walk - despite the fact he apparently didn't need a cane any longer - adding *ironically* some sense of class in such a class-less place.
Viktor, can you please take it easy? I'm not used to that.
It's voice... hers... did give some pause to the annoyed Viktor, whom then held the staff a bit aloft as he kept on walking, eyes darting at some thoughts of his own, through out all that. To think he was mended and now would do it someone else, now, if only to soothe his conscience - and get the cons- Sky, all quiet - as well as now having to make due on a home he barely recognized since his childhood days...
He didn't even notice him walking with the staff hitting the ground again, which had the Core let out a small 'whoa', which jolted his attention back.
You know, I'm kind of missing the chest, now...
"Do you see me carrying that chest around, everywhere?", Viktor asked, annoyed, returning to keeping the staff a bit aloft. "This is more practical."
I'd say too close to home, and it's not like you need this to walk anymore. Guess old habits do die hard...
"Either way, I'm not going back for it, con... Sky.", Viktor corrected himself, also annoyed he had to remember she - or it - was the one thing he still had for an assistant and kept him hostage with demanding niceties. "That's how they'd find me, anyways. And you."
He diverted his attention to the other mechanical arm he carried on his brand new left arm. It seemed considerably a bit more improved than the makeshift prosthetic, but at least it'd fit well for the loss that Tory person had.
You could've brought him with you. Show some basics, at least.
"You said you wanted to help.", Viktor replied. "That's why I brought the anatomy books. I can't rely on Singed."
Can't rely on him, or can't trust him?
Viktor pondered that question, it was a valid one. "I trust him.", he answered. "But with *me*. With someone else, on the other hand..."
You mean because of that creature. Rio, wasn't it?
Viktor remained silent as he kept on walking.
You're more wiser than most people give you credit for.
Viktor shook his head slightly. "If I only ever were...", he mumbled, glancing at the Core and carrying on.
Viktor had arrived to the rundown orphanage building, no person in sight, yet, despite the increasing gunfire at the place indicating something was happening into the heart of Zaun itself. The 'OHANGE' letters still remained visible, as well, although the lights were briefly on. No doubt the children were expecting Viktor's return.
As he entered, however, the scene was quite the different one and that made him stop at the doorstop. While the supposed victim, Tory, was lying down on the floor, atop blankets and the severed arm bandaged, resting under some strong dosage from the medicine, he wasn't alone, and definitely the figure wasn't one of the kids, not even the eldest one.
It was instead a hooded one, wearing a long coat and hood, kneeling before Tory, touching his shoulder.
"The one whom did this.", the hooded one started, a female voice. "I was wondering when you'd return."
Viktor simply remained there, watching the hooded figure. The coat and hood apparently were of a Demacian design, with golden stripes along it's edges, although it appeared long old.
"In all honesty, I thought this place had no caretakers, either...", Viktor replied, choosing his words with care.
"And you're correct.", the hooded one said, rising to her feet.
Viktor...
The scientist himself took notice of Sky's worries. His right hand clenched the staff he held.
"I'm no caretaker.", the hooded woman said. "Yet, ironically, I still take care of some."
The hooded figure suddenly spun around and extended her hand as Viktor changed the staff to the left hand and extended his right hand as well on reflex, triggering the Hexclaw which fired, and the hooded figure dodged it's beam and, in an almost gracious and artistic manner, extended her left hand from which the supposed spell, in a violet flash, came off her hand and lanced towards Viktor, whom blocked it the only way it came through his mind - with the mechanical left arm in front of him.
The spell hit the mechanical arm and wrapped around and ensnared it. Viktor could see what it had caught the left arm.
It looked like... chains, out of nowhere, and seemingly far ancient in shape. And almost ethereal.
As Viktor tried yanking away his left arm, breaking the chains, the hooded woman was faster, anticipating the movement, ducking and extending her right hand where more chains emerged, grasping Viktor's leg. She pulled those chains with a strength unexpected, which made Viktor trip over and fall to the ground, despite attempting hold on to his staff, which also fell due to the yanking.
Viktor!
As the Hex Core attempted charging and letting out it's energy, the hooded one quickly extended her hand and erected something, as equally obsidian as her chains, which did impact with the blast of the Hex Core. The hooded one then let out more ethereal chains with her left hand where they grabbed Viktor's staff, throwing it, and the Core with it, past the doorstop to outside. She retracted those chains and launched them again towards Viktor's mechanical arm as he got on his knees, and then the left one let out chains towards his right arm, before he could aim the Hexclaw. She pushed each arm aside, where Viktor remained powerless as the chains glowed and burst into flames, which Viktor, despite his new condition, could still feel them, as well as the pain, and it seared through him for a second, making him vulnerable, on his knees.
"Be it flesh, be it metal.", the hooded figure started. "All hearts *do* eventually break, Viktor of Zaun."
Viktor groaned in pain, for it was unlike anything he had experienced, even in his past, frail state. "I never told you my n-", he started.
"Your name is as bare, masked as you may be.", the hooded one said. "As are your faults."
"I was going to heal him.", Viktor said, the other mechanical arm dropped to the ground.
"You only replace what he lost, begrudgingly.", the hooded one retorted. "Were it for you, you'd have *left* him as he is. You do this only to dodge guilty conscience, to dodge pain. A folly that already cost you, yet you *insist* in repeating."
"What?", Viktor asked.
"You shed your frailty away by shedding your flesh!", the hooded one answered. "Yet you forget *frailty* is what gives your life meaning! What makes you act, enjoy every moment, every second you still have! You squander the gift you knew not you had!"
The hooded figure, then, suddenly, pulled the chains away, releasing Viktor, whom fell on all fours, feeling some relief, though the pain still remained.
She approached Viktor, whom raised his head to try and look at the face behind the hood, yet all he could see were shining, violet eyes. "I understand why you did what you did. I know what it's like.", she said, her tone more soft. "But it's too easy to forget and fall because of it. One already had. Hence why I did this. That you may learn, and still rise, while you can."
The hooded figure walked past Viktor, to the doorstop. "Though I won't do it to you again, this won't be our last meeting.", she said.
"Who are you, anyway?", Viktor asked.
"Who I am is insubstantial. On the other hand, what I want will soon be.", she said. "Be ready, by then...", she walked outside, not to be seen again, for a while.
Viktor still took a while, as the pain faded away, before he went back on his feet, many things going on his mind.
Viktor. She's gone.
Viktor turned around to outside to pick up the staff, still with the Hex Core in it, ungraciously laying down on the dirty street of Zaun, yet, despite being but few minutes, he couldn't see her walking down any lane.
Don't bother, she simply vanished. But I better not see her again. Attacking us like that!
"You've heard her, as I did.", Viktor said, shaking his head, remembering muscles he forgot he had thanks to that. "It was because of the Tory boy."
She could've asked! We would've explained!
"It sounded she knew *too well* what happened.", Viktor walked back inside the orphanage. "And those movements, what she did... It was like if she were..."
Testing us? For what!? Who the hell was this lady!?
Viktor stared back at outside, past the doorstop. "That was *actual* magic, Sky.", he said. "I'm more of concerned about what she is..."
He turned around before he picked the mechanical arm meant for the young one, just ahead of him, at the center of the hall. "It will have to wait, however.", Viktor said, eyes fixed at the downed young one, barely conscious. "Have to get this one out of the way, first..."
Viktor took a glance at the mechanical arm that soon would be Tory's, and then glanced at the young boy.
And then he let out a breath out, frustrated.
All the preparation, the tools he thought he needed.
And he didn't even know where to start.
THE BEAT MAN
The serene night across Piltover, despite the clear full moon and stars, was anything but a peaceful one. As well as, while the rules seemed more relaxed concerning night time in Piltover's northside, no one dared set a foot out but the enforcers on patrol. Most of the action was indeed on the southside, where the Fissures lied, but for some reason, a tinge of tense air was palpable, nonetheless.
It was quite the oddity for Officer Aronson, rifle in hand as determined to all enforcers by the Warden-Marshall on the final leg of his beat by the eastern part, about close to the Central Precinct, which was almost void by now, with all the action going on. The demand for enforcers necessary for the Fissures also meant he had to do his first beat on his own, patrolling the streets and ensuring little to no trouble would happen. Not that much did happen in Piltover, at least until the recent days came by, and now people whom appreciated the stars and sweet breeze of the outdoors preferred rooftops and stale hot air.
But for them, it was a fair trade if it kept them... safe. Not that Aronson could blame them.
As he turned into a corner, however, he got notice of a lone silhouette that came out the corner, a small dwarf-ish one, walking in the middle of the street in a hood, and then stopped as it clearly saw the enforcer as well.
"You!", Aronson shouted, pointing at the small person, walking to him, rifle at the ready but lowered. "Stay right there!"
As Aronson got to a subtle enough distance, he nodded to the small person as he kept the rifle at the ready. "Take off the hood, let me see you.", he said, calm, but firm.
The small person obliged, removing this hood, revealing the furred face of an older creature, a Yordle, with blue eyes and a prominent white mustache.
Aronson recognized him, as he should. As would any enforcer whom was in the force for the last decade. "C-Councillor Heimerdinger, sir?", he asked.
Heimerdinger chuckled softly. "Just Heimerdinger now, officer.", he unbuttoned the cloak, folding it and carrying in on his arm. "My apologies for such a presence this late at night."
"Little need for apologies, but I'd ask you be more careful, sir.", Aronson replied. "The streets haven't been safe at night, as of late."
"Yes, of course, I've heard of these recent events, and I am as appalled.", Heimerdinger replied. "Nonetheless, I've pending matters of my own to attend, so if you'll permit-", he started walking a bit forward, towards the blocking officer's direction.
"Whoa, hey, wait a minute!", Aronson stepped forward, leaning the rifle a bit towards Heimerdinger's direction. "This is a restricted area!"
"Is it, now?", Heimerdinger asked, shrugging. "By whom?"
"The Warden-Marshall.", Aronson said. "Central Precinct's to remain closed to everyone until further notice."
"Well, I'm not exactly everyone, most here in Piltover know this.", Heimerdinger said. "And this is still urgent, so please, excuse me.", he continued walking, forcing Aronson to head slightly backwards, quickly hold position and actually point his rifle at the little creature, whom immediately froze.
"Hey, hey, HEY!", the enforcer said, rifle trained at the Yordle, whom was frozen awed by the behavior, raising his hands in the air, dropping the cape to the ground. "Stand right there, not another step, I'm not giving any more warnings, sir!"
Heimerdinger took a small breath, staring at Aronson with a bit of pity on his expression. Or perhaps regret. "Yes, you won't.", he nodded, the thumb on his right hand touching and pressing the side by the base of his index finger. "Truly a tragedy..."
In the span of a second on which Aronson wasn't prepared for, something popped out of Heimerdinger's thick, lush hair, some sort of device being supported by something, which charged up and let out a stream of electricity that captured the enforcer and paralyzed him, shocking him and leaving him even unable to fire the rifle, the violence of the shock making him jolt the rifle back to his right, before Aronson couldn't keep up anymore, in less than ten seconds, and thus collapse to the ground, lying down with the pain of a thousand invisible blades afflicting him.
Heimerdinger could only let out a sigh as the shock dispenser, modified and refitted into a makeshift mechanical arm retracted to the backpack compartment which the Professor kept beneath the cloak and hood. He then walked to the downed enforcer, taking a wrench from a holster in his belt, shaking his head slightly, in disappointment.
"You were just doing your job, lad, I understand.", he said, eyes focused at the wrench for a bit, before staring back at Aronson. "Still, a lesson for your welfare's sake: It's not bright getting in a Yordle's way."
Though he was small, he wasn't as so frail. *None* of the Yordles were.
Thus the hit with the wrench was calculated and measured, enough to get the enforcer at, theoretically, a complete state of unconsciousness. Aronson's sight went black and hearing numb upon impact.
It was as Heimerdinger always said and that both frightened and saddened him.
Violence, while undesirable... was often unavoidable, either.