![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[ A written message on a napkin is left for Silco in the Valentia bar, as promised. It's in flowing, neat script, and the bartender gives Silco an odd look when he comes to get it. ]
I'm looking for somewhere with a view, away from busy streets. Perhaps you know of a place that's quiet?
[ It's not signed, but who else could it be? ]
I'm looking for somewhere with a view, away from busy streets. Perhaps you know of a place that's quiet?
[ It's not signed, but who else could it be? ]
[ Silco knows who it is.
A day later, Mel will receive a return note. The bartender looks perturbed, but he'd eventually acquiesced when Silco lifted something to line his pocket with. ]
Go to where Patho-Gen and the upper crust ignores. Where the streets look like what you wouldn't spare a thought towards before.
You should think about investing in something for working. I've heard there's a workman's wear shop that should cater to you. Look for the Cat.
[ And if she heads to East Sophia, she'll find a workman's wear shop, with a cat on the sign. Some cute cat punthat I'm too tired to come up with rn, and if she enters, the shopkeeper will send her to a private back room. ]
A day later, Mel will receive a return note. The bartender looks perturbed, but he'd eventually acquiesced when Silco lifted something to line his pocket with. ]
Go to where Patho-Gen and the upper crust ignores. Where the streets look like what you wouldn't spare a thought towards before.
You should think about investing in something for working. I've heard there's a workman's wear shop that should cater to you. Look for the Cat.
[ And if she heads to East Sophia, she'll find a workman's wear shop, with a cat on the sign. Some cute cat pun
[ Oh, but he does work quickly, doesn't he? Not just a shop name but someone who understands discretion enough to send her directly to a back room? It begs the question of what he's done to garner such goodwill and silence... A question she likely won't get answered.
The sun is just going down when she enters, wearing long sleeves still to hide the beginning changes she's going through. Gloves would've looked too conspicuous, so she supposes Silco will just need to see the darkened fingers and carefully clipped and filed nails, but it's better than exposing the open wounds on her arms that are packed and bandaged. Mel's gaze connects with the retreating back of the shopkeeper before she closes the door behind her. ]
I appreciate you making good on the 'view' request.
[ She's frequented East Sophia copiously these days with all of the disappearances, the fancy suits, the grieving families. The walk over has been a sobering reminder of those who have been forgotten and ignored, and of those who have gone out into the marshland and not returned. ]
The sun is just going down when she enters, wearing long sleeves still to hide the beginning changes she's going through. Gloves would've looked too conspicuous, so she supposes Silco will just need to see the darkened fingers and carefully clipped and filed nails, but it's better than exposing the open wounds on her arms that are packed and bandaged. Mel's gaze connects with the retreating back of the shopkeeper before she closes the door behind her. ]
I appreciate you making good on the 'view' request.
[ She's frequented East Sophia copiously these days with all of the disappearances, the fancy suits, the grieving families. The walk over has been a sobering reminder of those who have been forgotten and ignored, and of those who have gone out into the marshland and not returned. ]
[ Silco looks... mostly the same. Maybe that streak in his hair might be slightly larger, his eyes seem...brighter, somehow. That black pit looks reddened, slightly. Maybe it's just the warm light of the room, which certainly doesn't look like the kind of place that Silco would frequent, despite it being in East Sophia.
He already has a cigar lit, and it fills the room with the acrid stench, as he looks her up and down. ]
Oh, I do my best to provide the best for Topside.
[ He says. Sarcastically. It's only a little bite, though. Just a reminder of who she is dealing with. If she questioned the kind of pull he already had, she should be reminded that these people here were like his. He could speak their language. ]
So. What seems to be on the docket for the day, councilor?
He already has a cigar lit, and it fills the room with the acrid stench, as he looks her up and down. ]
Oh, I do my best to provide the best for Topside.
[ He says. Sarcastically. It's only a little bite, though. Just a reminder of who she is dealing with. If she questioned the kind of pull he already had, she should be reminded that these people here were like his. He could speak their language. ]
So. What seems to be on the docket for the day, councilor?
[ The smell of the cigar is awful, frankly. She's spent her fair share of time around such things but it's been months since she's been in close quarters with the stench, and while Mel shows no outward sign of discomfort, she can already feel the smoke raking along the inside of her throat.
Awful, really. ]
Oh, but no champagne?
[ The quip is accompanied by an eyeroll, utterly unserious in nature. She finds herself a seat, feigning relaxation without meaning it, too focused for such things. ]
We have terms to discuss, don't we. But I did wish to speak to you on another matter, one involving the citizens of Karteria and the Augmented at large. We can start with the former or the latter.
[ A half-shrug accompanies her words. ]
As you are kindly hosting my presence, you can choose which we start with.
Awful, really. ]
Oh, but no champagne?
[ The quip is accompanied by an eyeroll, utterly unserious in nature. She finds herself a seat, feigning relaxation without meaning it, too focused for such things. ]
We have terms to discuss, don't we. But I did wish to speak to you on another matter, one involving the citizens of Karteria and the Augmented at large. We can start with the former or the latter.
[ A half-shrug accompanies her words. ]
As you are kindly hosting my presence, you can choose which we start with.
Edited 2025-05-19 01:25 (UTC)
[ He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes locked on hers. His smile that flickers to life isn't a kind one, but instead is a bit of a sharp one. Knowing, teasing, all in one. The look of a man who knew exactly what she was doing, but instead of calling it out, he only watches her. Stares. 'I know what you are doing,' it says, 'And you know I know, and that's all I need'.
Another long inhale, his next words come with smoke.
Try breathing in the Gray, Mel. ]
Oh, how generous of you. Very well, I suspect that one will feed to another, so why don't you begin with your observations of this world.
[ A smile. It's no more kind, though wider, than the last. ]
I'm interested to hear what you have been able to gather.
Another long inhale, his next words come with smoke.
Try breathing in the Gray, Mel. ]
Oh, how generous of you. Very well, I suspect that one will feed to another, so why don't you begin with your observations of this world.
[ A smile. It's no more kind, though wider, than the last. ]
I'm interested to hear what you have been able to gather.
[ If it rankles her, there's no evidence of it. Mel's gaze is an unwavering thing, more so now than before, like her Natural Soul has just made one more thing about her unbearable. That near-unblinking gaze of a predator, not unlike him: waiting, watching. But she rolls her shoulders back, dislodging the moment like an acknowledgment. ]
Very well.
[ She recounts information about LupΓͺ, both the information she's garnered from the library and from speaking with the people: twenty-five years since what is essentially a fallout of arcane radiation poisoning, weapons at the ready to use Katalyth to harm Karteria. No details on the why, and she is still investigating. Mel recounts information from the citizens, that everyone knows someone who is ill, and the numbers continue to grow. Silco obviously knows first-hand the difficulties they are facing: the demoralization, the loss of employment infrastructure as ecosystems collapse. She mentions these in passing, wanting to be thorough.
She comes around to the present: she informs him of the suits in East Sophia, the reports of people missing. And, at last, informs him of the bones and bodies she's found in the marshes. The rot, the desiccation. The likelihood there are more, still, in the water...and unreachable due to the Katalyth. There will be minimal closure for those families. And what reports she's heard firsthand - and secondhand - all describe people leaving in groups, led away, and some people outside of the barrier speaking briefly of seeing some of these people kill each other.
He even gets to look at pictures she gathered on her device for his troubles. Of the marshlands where she found some of the bodies, as well as pictures of them, the various sizes of bones. How there are just too many for just a handful of bodies. What she leaves out, at least for now, is what she's sensed among it all, because that will require a bit more trust to put on the table...and in part because it's difficult for her to explain it all without having to admit so many other things.
Through it all, her tone doesn't change. It's calm but never borders into clinical, but rather direct and to the point. He's not an outwardly emotional creature and Mel will not allow a single hook into her if she can help it. But she still allows herself to sound troubled by the complications, the situation at large. ]
It's not enough that we're working against impossible odds, if the goal is to fix the Katalyth issue or the arcane radiation on a whole. This city, the infrastructure on both a physical and emotional level, is collapsing. I need not tell you that.
[ Silco likely knows most of this. This is just confirmation. ]
And we're running out of time to affect anything [ positively or not ] without having some kind of impairment as we change.
Very well.
[ She recounts information about LupΓͺ, both the information she's garnered from the library and from speaking with the people: twenty-five years since what is essentially a fallout of arcane radiation poisoning, weapons at the ready to use Katalyth to harm Karteria. No details on the why, and she is still investigating. Mel recounts information from the citizens, that everyone knows someone who is ill, and the numbers continue to grow. Silco obviously knows first-hand the difficulties they are facing: the demoralization, the loss of employment infrastructure as ecosystems collapse. She mentions these in passing, wanting to be thorough.
She comes around to the present: she informs him of the suits in East Sophia, the reports of people missing. And, at last, informs him of the bones and bodies she's found in the marshes. The rot, the desiccation. The likelihood there are more, still, in the water...and unreachable due to the Katalyth. There will be minimal closure for those families. And what reports she's heard firsthand - and secondhand - all describe people leaving in groups, led away, and some people outside of the barrier speaking briefly of seeing some of these people kill each other.
He even gets to look at pictures she gathered on her device for his troubles. Of the marshlands where she found some of the bodies, as well as pictures of them, the various sizes of bones. How there are just too many for just a handful of bodies. What she leaves out, at least for now, is what she's sensed among it all, because that will require a bit more trust to put on the table...and in part because it's difficult for her to explain it all without having to admit so many other things.
Through it all, her tone doesn't change. It's calm but never borders into clinical, but rather direct and to the point. He's not an outwardly emotional creature and Mel will not allow a single hook into her if she can help it. But she still allows herself to sound troubled by the complications, the situation at large. ]
It's not enough that we're working against impossible odds, if the goal is to fix the Katalyth issue or the arcane radiation on a whole. This city, the infrastructure on both a physical and emotional level, is collapsing. I need not tell you that.
[ Silco likely knows most of this. This is just confirmation. ]
And we're running out of time to affect anything [ positively or not ] without having some kind of impairment as we change.
[ He listens. Some of this he already knows β most of what is happening in East Sophia he's been listening on the ground. He is not a hero, he is not a kind man, he has not lifted a finger with regards to the disappearances, because that is not his area. He's no intrepid investigator, he's a bigger presence than that. It's the type of thing he would delegate to others, not do himself, if he even bothered.
People should take care of their own problems, and he would only invest in the ones that would reap large dividends. So that was different. The bodies in the marshes were different too. He had a feeling, of course, after talking to the people outside of the city. They had been rather...
Well.
Silco had struggled to think they were logical.
So he actually listens. He doesn't interject, except for clarifying questions. This is an exchange of information. She brings photographic evidence. Silco is not a stupid man. He's sharp, and mean, but he's also logical and quick. They are both administrators, both the type that have been administering cities like Zaun and Piltover for years. It takes a type of mind that can put a great deal of information together, to parse it and come up with solutions.
It would almost be called respectful, if it weren't for the cigar smoke, and the relaxed way he sits in his chair. Naturlaly belligerant. ]
The people outside of the city have less hope than even those here in East Sophia, did you know that? They believe this world is doomed.
[ he says it with confidence. He's spoken to them, it's clear. ] They are worse off even than those here, and I don't need to tell you that it is dangerous that there is a pipeline from one, to the other. The middle and upper classes are fools. They continue to strive towards their own comfort above all.
Why, they've already replaced them. Is it so surprising that they see the people here as disposable?
[ A considering beat. ] I wonder if we will be considered just as disposable, in the end.
People should take care of their own problems, and he would only invest in the ones that would reap large dividends. So that was different. The bodies in the marshes were different too. He had a feeling, of course, after talking to the people outside of the city. They had been rather...
Well.
Silco had struggled to think they were logical.
So he actually listens. He doesn't interject, except for clarifying questions. This is an exchange of information. She brings photographic evidence. Silco is not a stupid man. He's sharp, and mean, but he's also logical and quick. They are both administrators, both the type that have been administering cities like Zaun and Piltover for years. It takes a type of mind that can put a great deal of information together, to parse it and come up with solutions.
It would almost be called respectful, if it weren't for the cigar smoke, and the relaxed way he sits in his chair. Naturlaly belligerant. ]
The people outside of the city have less hope than even those here in East Sophia, did you know that? They believe this world is doomed.
[ he says it with confidence. He's spoken to them, it's clear. ] They are worse off even than those here, and I don't need to tell you that it is dangerous that there is a pipeline from one, to the other. The middle and upper classes are fools. They continue to strive towards their own comfort above all.
Why, they've already replaced them. Is it so surprising that they see the people here as disposable?
[ A considering beat. ] I wonder if we will be considered just as disposable, in the end.
[ It is simultaneously refreshing and infuriating to speak with Silco like this. To have him listen so attentively, to reflect back what he hears, to know he is paying attention. It's been such a long time since she's had the opportunity to sharpen her teeth on something important - Hubert notwithstanding, as he can tolerate her belligerent questions - and yet, they are still themselves, and this will never be more than a tenuous alliance at best. In another life, if she'd been better as a councilor--
Ah, but there's no point in lingering on that.
Of course he knows how the people outside the city feel. Of course he does. It's invaluable information...and also not unexpected. Two of her knuckles are pressed absently against her mouth as he listens; her gaze is on Silco and on the middle distance in between, as her thoughts fold over and over into some semblance of order. ]
I imagine we will be, [ quiet, contemplative. ] I do not like...speculation and conjecture. But Patho-Gen likely does not know the full extent these souls will change us. I imagine, in the end, we will be discarded as beasts.
[ To live like those people outside the city. So in that way, they are likely correct; more and more will be discarded as resources dwindle, as the rising cost of habitability becomes unbearable. They both know it. Patho-Gen sees them as tools. The people of Karteria... Well, that's something they can change. ]
We aren't even fit to be considered one of the lower class here. Not at the moment. We are, at best, a novelty; at worst, a nuisance. They don't have any reason to see us as worth their consideration.
Ah, but there's no point in lingering on that.
Of course he knows how the people outside the city feel. Of course he does. It's invaluable information...and also not unexpected. Two of her knuckles are pressed absently against her mouth as he listens; her gaze is on Silco and on the middle distance in between, as her thoughts fold over and over into some semblance of order. ]
I imagine we will be, [ quiet, contemplative. ] I do not like...speculation and conjecture. But Patho-Gen likely does not know the full extent these souls will change us. I imagine, in the end, we will be discarded as beasts.
[ To live like those people outside the city. So in that way, they are likely correct; more and more will be discarded as resources dwindle, as the rising cost of habitability becomes unbearable. They both know it. Patho-Gen sees them as tools. The people of Karteria... Well, that's something they can change. ]
We aren't even fit to be considered one of the lower class here. Not at the moment. We are, at best, a novelty; at worst, a nuisance. They don't have any reason to see us as worth their consideration.
[ Maybe there's a version out there, where everyone was better. Where disaster had been averted, people were happier and β
Well. That's not reality, is it? Silco had never wanted to work with the council, had found their derision of Zaun detestable even while he burned the city at both ends out of his supposed necessity. He'd always thought he had to do what he did. He'd seen what the other ways did. Protest and organization got them killed. Cooperation and working together left them middling and mired in the same old patterns as before. No, working with Mel was a requirement, but he didn't have to like it. She was a Topsider, however. She could do what he refused to do. (Because it was refusal, wasn't it? He could schmooze and hoodwink as he wanted, but why would he? He didn't have to here. He wouldn't do it if he didn't have to.)
She was as useful as he was. She provided her observations, so he provided his. Shared with her the little tidbits that he'd gathered from outside.
He doesn't share everything. No, he leaves out the things he is figuring out pertaining to his industry. The hunting, looking, and investigating he is doing. ]
How does that make you feel, I wonder?
[ He asks. It's goading. It's unproductive. Perhaps, however, he wants to see it. Hear her say it. Hear someone from topside understand what it was to be put into this position. To finally realize what it was that had been done to them.
He was a monster, yes. He knew he was. He had burned his people as surely as topside had, but he'd understood that there was only one thing they would listen to. He'd learned that when they'd tried otherwise. When they'd made the effort to change their fate, and they had all been beaten down, some of them killed, for daring to step up, and say that they deserved better.
Does she think that she does? Does she understand that this is no different than what he'd grown up with his entire life? This life had been what had gotten him killed. ]
Knowing that they look down on you. That you're nothing more than the stone under their feet, the dirt in their roads. That they will use you for your intended purpose until you wither away, and then they will discard you, to try to eke out what little you can with what little they left you with.
I can imagine it must be a truly terrifying realization.
Well. That's not reality, is it? Silco had never wanted to work with the council, had found their derision of Zaun detestable even while he burned the city at both ends out of his supposed necessity. He'd always thought he had to do what he did. He'd seen what the other ways did. Protest and organization got them killed. Cooperation and working together left them middling and mired in the same old patterns as before. No, working with Mel was a requirement, but he didn't have to like it. She was a Topsider, however. She could do what he refused to do. (Because it was refusal, wasn't it? He could schmooze and hoodwink as he wanted, but why would he? He didn't have to here. He wouldn't do it if he didn't have to.)
She was as useful as he was. She provided her observations, so he provided his. Shared with her the little tidbits that he'd gathered from outside.
He doesn't share everything. No, he leaves out the things he is figuring out pertaining to his industry. The hunting, looking, and investigating he is doing. ]
How does that make you feel, I wonder?
[ He asks. It's goading. It's unproductive. Perhaps, however, he wants to see it. Hear her say it. Hear someone from topside understand what it was to be put into this position. To finally realize what it was that had been done to them.
He was a monster, yes. He knew he was. He had burned his people as surely as topside had, but he'd understood that there was only one thing they would listen to. He'd learned that when they'd tried otherwise. When they'd made the effort to change their fate, and they had all been beaten down, some of them killed, for daring to step up, and say that they deserved better.
Does she think that she does? Does she understand that this is no different than what he'd grown up with his entire life? This life had been what had gotten him killed. ]
Knowing that they look down on you. That you're nothing more than the stone under their feet, the dirt in their roads. That they will use you for your intended purpose until you wither away, and then they will discard you, to try to eke out what little you can with what little they left you with.
I can imagine it must be a truly terrifying realization.
[ It's exceedingly unproductive. She's starting to learn the shape of Silco, as murky as that may be. It's in every needled word, tiny knife points to see where her armor may be weak. It's in the mire that he wants to paint with. She isn't certain if he just wants her to feel guilty or if he simply refuses to suffer alone, and would rather draw blood than let anyone else take the first stab.
It reminds her of certain fighters in the Noxian fight pits: rogues and poisoners, those who would take ample advantage of openings. It's death by a thousand cuts rather than the single, brutal impact of a club. Let the opponent bleed out, grow weaker, and take your victory.
Silco is treated to a glimmer of anger in her gaze, more gold than hazel. It's tempered, allowed to fall to a simmer. ]
More terrifying than the loss of our humanity? Our bodies? No, I don't think so.
[ As Mel has never known - until now - what it means to be in the dust like so many others has passed by in her lifetime, Silco will never know how it feels to be a passenger in his own body - until now. How fitting, for us to walk in the lives of those we've never thought to touch. ]
You want me to tell you how it upsets me to be without money and influence. To wake up worrying about injuries, where I'll get food and proper work, how I'll keep a roof over my head in the months to come. What I'll do when people don't respect me, when they look down on me...and to have this for months and years with no end in sight.
[ He doesn't want apologies and Mel doesn't offer them. She is in a unique position where Zaun and Piltover's problems are not hers, but nor is absolved of them as a perpetuator of the status quo. As the benefactor of those who lengthened the divide unintentionally. He's free to hate her for it, for all of it, because he can't feel vindication from the dead who have come before. He'll also get no satisfaction from her self-flagellation, so there's no point in entertaining it.
Instead, she acknowledges, because he's right. ]
You want me to suffer as you have suffered, but we both know I'll never know what you had to live with. What you had to survive. [ Her gaze rests on his own, unflinching. ] I don't think that life terrified you. Perhaps it did once, long ago. But I think it angered you. And rage is a tangible weapon, a tool, when fear is not.
It reminds her of certain fighters in the Noxian fight pits: rogues and poisoners, those who would take ample advantage of openings. It's death by a thousand cuts rather than the single, brutal impact of a club. Let the opponent bleed out, grow weaker, and take your victory.
Silco is treated to a glimmer of anger in her gaze, more gold than hazel. It's tempered, allowed to fall to a simmer. ]
More terrifying than the loss of our humanity? Our bodies? No, I don't think so.
[ As Mel has never known - until now - what it means to be in the dust like so many others has passed by in her lifetime, Silco will never know how it feels to be a passenger in his own body - until now. How fitting, for us to walk in the lives of those we've never thought to touch. ]
You want me to tell you how it upsets me to be without money and influence. To wake up worrying about injuries, where I'll get food and proper work, how I'll keep a roof over my head in the months to come. What I'll do when people don't respect me, when they look down on me...and to have this for months and years with no end in sight.
[ He doesn't want apologies and Mel doesn't offer them. She is in a unique position where Zaun and Piltover's problems are not hers, but nor is absolved of them as a perpetuator of the status quo. As the benefactor of those who lengthened the divide unintentionally. He's free to hate her for it, for all of it, because he can't feel vindication from the dead who have come before. He'll also get no satisfaction from her self-flagellation, so there's no point in entertaining it.
Instead, she acknowledges, because he's right. ]
You want me to suffer as you have suffered, but we both know I'll never know what you had to live with. What you had to survive. [ Her gaze rests on his own, unflinching. ] I don't think that life terrified you. Perhaps it did once, long ago. But I think it angered you. And rage is a tangible weapon, a tool, when fear is not.
Hey, you know anyone who might want some work?
I'm sure you've seen that some of us are trying to protect the post from private companies taking it over.
Getting the people of East Sophia β and places like it β a foot in the door could be helpful down the line.
[ among other things ]
Getting the people of East Sophia β and places like it β a foot in the door could be helpful down the line.
[ among other things ]
I've heard word of it, yes.
[ The rumblings, the rumors. All things Silco has kept his ears out for, and had his eye on. ]
And what sorts of things are you willing to transport? East Sophia moves so little, as you must well know. What they do move may... not always be up to snuff.
[ Is the pirate ok with a little piracy?? ]
[ The rumblings, the rumors. All things Silco has kept his ears out for, and had his eye on. ]
And what sorts of things are you willing to transport? East Sophia moves so little, as you must well know. What they do move may... not always be up to snuff.
[ Is the pirate ok with a little piracy?? ]
[ He watches, he listens.
You see, Silco knows how this goes. He almost expects it, the apologies. The self-flaggelation, because that is what people do when they are made to feel the weight of their sins, ones that they have no other way to correct. There is nothing else they can do. They don't know how to remedy it, so they apologize. They prostrate. They acknowledge it, and make that sympathetic little look on their faces, the one that looks uncomfortable, but that they know they need to acknowledge it.
Mel doesn't do that, it's the first surprise.
She looks angry, and that, at least, he welcomes. That's right, confront it. Look it in the eye, and understand that every word is true, and that there is no resolution to it.
Silco was the monster that Zaun needed. There was no other option. Vander's way? Quiet, barely restrained peace while people still starved outside of the Lanes? Vander had one place to protect, the one they'd built together, but there was more than the Lanes to the Undercity. That was just what he protected, carefully, using a deal with them to do so.
Silco hated it. Oh, he'd used Marcus, but they both knew who pulled the strings there. If Marcus faltered, he would find another. There was no capitulation to the council, no playing their games. Zaun was nearly independent in all but name. They just needed the council to recognize it.
When he got back, he would make certain of that. ]
It's the only weapon left, in fact. [ He responds, his fingers drag against the table. ] What we live with is something you could not even dream about.
However, what it has taught me, is how one must garner attention. How we adapt. How we become unignorable.
You need me, councilor. You need what I can provide. Oh, you can hate me all you want, but you have not been fighting upward a day in your life, have you? You need that experience.
[ His tone in not sympathetic, but knowing. He has always been death by a thousand cuts. That's all he has. He is not a strong man. He is only who he is. ]
I do not bring this up to upset you. [ it can be two things, actually ] I bring it up to remind you of who I am. What my experience is.
That if you wish to deal with me, it will be as equals.
You see, Silco knows how this goes. He almost expects it, the apologies. The self-flaggelation, because that is what people do when they are made to feel the weight of their sins, ones that they have no other way to correct. There is nothing else they can do. They don't know how to remedy it, so they apologize. They prostrate. They acknowledge it, and make that sympathetic little look on their faces, the one that looks uncomfortable, but that they know they need to acknowledge it.
Mel doesn't do that, it's the first surprise.
She looks angry, and that, at least, he welcomes. That's right, confront it. Look it in the eye, and understand that every word is true, and that there is no resolution to it.
Silco was the monster that Zaun needed. There was no other option. Vander's way? Quiet, barely restrained peace while people still starved outside of the Lanes? Vander had one place to protect, the one they'd built together, but there was more than the Lanes to the Undercity. That was just what he protected, carefully, using a deal with them to do so.
Silco hated it. Oh, he'd used Marcus, but they both knew who pulled the strings there. If Marcus faltered, he would find another. There was no capitulation to the council, no playing their games. Zaun was nearly independent in all but name. They just needed the council to recognize it.
When he got back, he would make certain of that. ]
It's the only weapon left, in fact. [ He responds, his fingers drag against the table. ] What we live with is something you could not even dream about.
However, what it has taught me, is how one must garner attention. How we adapt. How we become unignorable.
You need me, councilor. You need what I can provide. Oh, you can hate me all you want, but you have not been fighting upward a day in your life, have you? You need that experience.
[ His tone in not sympathetic, but knowing. He has always been death by a thousand cuts. That's all he has. He is not a strong man. He is only who he is. ]
I do not bring this up to upset you. [ it can be two things, actually ] I bring it up to remind you of who I am. What my experience is.
That if you wish to deal with me, it will be as equals.
[ How one must garner attention.
She doesn't look away, doesn't close her eyes, because in the dark she knows she'll see just what unignorable means: councilors dead in ash and fire, broken bodies, blood splattered all over the bridge. And something in her countenance hardens, the anger smoothing into something cold. ]
I did not agree to work with you with the thought that you would be beneath me, Silco. But nor did I come to you looking for a bludgeon. Or a rocket.
[ Naivety doesn't suit her. It didn't suit her when she was fifteen, either. She is not foolish enough to think Silco's methods - for Karteria or for home - will end without some kind of bloodshed. To come to him at all feels like a betrayal: a betrayal towards Jayce, towards Kino, towards herself. Her choices are limited, and better that she know the shape of the knife than to leave herself guessing. And better the blade she knows than to wait for fire to destroy everything she holds dear, and to be left with a monster she can no longer recognize in her own mother. ]
I want to think of this as...an opportunity. [ The word feels wrong; it tastes like acid on her tongue. She frowns. ] No, not an opportunity. A tempering. Because you, at least, will hold me to the fire.
[ To adapt. To be unignorable. Maybe that is what she needs. Maybe his experience is what will help her, for all that she'd initially detested the words.
Even if all of her plans fall through, at least she will understand better, and she will have been honed enough, sharpened enough (with any hope) to be brought to bear against the might that is Ambessa Medarda. Silco is death by a thousand cuts. Mel must be more than that if she has any hope of succeeding and sparing Piltover from Noxian blades. ]
You see the world in ways I do not. [ And cannot, not in this moment. ] You see this world in ways I cannot hope to. And I refuse to be blind to any of it. Not again.
She doesn't look away, doesn't close her eyes, because in the dark she knows she'll see just what unignorable means: councilors dead in ash and fire, broken bodies, blood splattered all over the bridge. And something in her countenance hardens, the anger smoothing into something cold. ]
I did not agree to work with you with the thought that you would be beneath me, Silco. But nor did I come to you looking for a bludgeon. Or a rocket.
[ Naivety doesn't suit her. It didn't suit her when she was fifteen, either. She is not foolish enough to think Silco's methods - for Karteria or for home - will end without some kind of bloodshed. To come to him at all feels like a betrayal: a betrayal towards Jayce, towards Kino, towards herself. Her choices are limited, and better that she know the shape of the knife than to leave herself guessing. And better the blade she knows than to wait for fire to destroy everything she holds dear, and to be left with a monster she can no longer recognize in her own mother. ]
I want to think of this as...an opportunity. [ The word feels wrong; it tastes like acid on her tongue. She frowns. ] No, not an opportunity. A tempering. Because you, at least, will hold me to the fire.
[ To adapt. To be unignorable. Maybe that is what she needs. Maybe his experience is what will help her, for all that she'd initially detested the words.
Even if all of her plans fall through, at least she will understand better, and she will have been honed enough, sharpened enough (with any hope) to be brought to bear against the might that is Ambessa Medarda. Silco is death by a thousand cuts. Mel must be more than that if she has any hope of succeeding and sparing Piltover from Noxian blades. ]
You see the world in ways I do not. [ And cannot, not in this moment. ] You see this world in ways I cannot hope to. And I refuse to be blind to any of it. Not again.
[ A week after their injection incident. ]
Still breathing?
Still breathing?
Edited (had to change icon sry) 2025-05-30 02:03 (UTC)
Can we at least be clear that what happened in that room was because of whatever they injected us with?
[ Despite his previous threats, he did not intend to kill Silco this time. He'd like to hear the same in return. ]
[ Despite his previous threats, he did not intend to kill Silco this time. He'd like to hear the same in return. ]
Do you really want me to answer that?
[ ah but who are the leeches? checkmate, topsider ]
Ah, how clever. Perhaps I should answer for you, so you don't make something up.
I wouldn't. It was whatever they did to us. As I am sure spontaneous crystallization isn't something you make a habit of either.
Ah, how clever. Perhaps I should answer for you, so you don't make something up.
I wouldn't. It was whatever they did to us. As I am sure spontaneous crystallization isn't something you make a habit of either.
[ something something we all create our own monsters, piltover wretchedly failed its people, but, on a personal level, suck a diiiiick ]
It's a fairly new development.
[ In all seriousness: ]
We're collecting data on the Natural Souls and corruption progression.
[ Not exactly a secret. ]
It's a fairly new development.
[ In all seriousness: ]
We're collecting data on the Natural Souls and corruption progression.
[ Not exactly a secret. ]
Page 1 of 14