Chapter Text
*Click*. *Cli-cl-cl-cl-click*.
Mylo kneels by the door, turning his lockpick. Like a giant key with ribbed knobs near the handle. Sweat drips down his bushy eyebrows, runs along his upturned nose, and drips to the ground.
“You almost done?”
“Don’t rush me, Vi. You know as well as I do this takes a delicate touch.”
He doesn’t even bother looking back at me, but I can tell he’s rolling his eyes by the slight shift of his spiky dark brown hair.
“I get it, I get it. But if you get through in the next sixty seconds, I’ll find you some nice, juicy bugs on the way home.”
“Suuuure, and we’ll try and find you a nice friendly gazelle shifter to mutilate, huh? Maybe you can rip their throat out. Would the big kitty enjoy that?”
He might sound annoyed, but his little blackish-brown ferret tail slips out from under his short white shirt, and small tufts of fur sprout from under the leather pads on his shoulders. Most kids learn to control their shift by the age of 10, but even at the age of 14 he still slips up now and then.
“Hmm…maybe I’ll settle for a nice…juicy…ferret tail?”
“YEE!”
*Clang-t-ting*.
He yelps and drops the lockpick when I grab his tail. I may be a lion, but I’d never kill anyone just for food, and he knows it. Still, animal instincts tend to kick in even when you don’t want ‘em to. Like, right now, I could go for a nice juicy steak because of what he said.
“Great, juuuust great. Now I gotta start again.”
He picks up the bronze pick and starts where he left off.
“Pfft!”
I hear Powder spit a laugh from behind, her blue hair shaking in a fit of giggles. Speaking of not being able to control it yet, Powder starts shifting as well, but way more than Mylo. White fur with blue spots explode from her skin, hear ears moving up and ending in a point.
“Powder!”
I try to keep my voice low. If we’re spotted up here, we’ll be in big trouble. She stops laughing, and gasps.
“Oh no. H-hang on, I can do this!”
She scrunches her face up and focuses. Unlike us, she shifts if she loses concentration, so there’s fur everywhere back home.
*Click*.
“Aaaand done.”
Mylo puts his pick away and turns around.
“Oh for…again!? Seriously, you’re 12 already! At least shift into something cool like your sister, but you’re just a freaking bobcat! Lamest big cat ever.”
My palm meets the back of his stupid head with a loud smack as I glare at him.
“Don’t worry, Powder, you’ve got this. Don’t listen to him, okay?”
Finally, her fur disappears, leaving her pale white skin. Her big blue eyes look up and meet mine.
“I’m sorry.”
I sigh. Try or not, Mylo’s right. This is getting old. Not only that, her shift is different from ours, more animal. I sure as hell don’t get fur everywhere, and my face doesn’t go full lion.
“It’s okay, it’s not your fault. Just…keep trying, okay?”
She nods as I turn to Claggor.
“Alright big man, you got our escape route planned in case shit hits the fan?”
His shaggy brown hair shakes slightly as he nods, then he turns to me, the blue lenses of his goggles meeting my eyes as the sun glares across the brass rims.
“I do, buuuut I’d really rather not take it. Sewers aren’t exactly prime ground for bison, you know.”
“Or lions, bobcats, or ferrets…well, maybe ferrets.”
“Hey!”
Mylo gets pissy but I just ignore him.
“Still, I’d sure as hell rather not take it either. So don’t screw up.”
I turn back to the door and turn the handle. It makes a slight screeching, creaking sound as I open it, causing us to all freeze for a moment, then continue inside once we know no-one’s comin’, and close it behind us.
“Ooo-hoo!”
Powder squeaks in excitement when she lays her eyes on some of the goods. Place belongs to some rich idiots with more money than brains, I guess. Time to even that out a little. I toss the empty brown leather bag to the floor beside me.
“Alright, you know the drill. Split up, grab anything that looks valuable – especially the small stuff, like gems and jewellery – and bag it.”
I turn back over my shoulder.
“And keep an ear out. Don’t wanna get sprung by the owners gettin’ back early.”
“Got it.”
“No problem.”
“On it.”
I jerk my head to the right, giving the signal to get started, and head up the stairs. Master bedroom’s gotta have some good stuff. I open the door and see a giant bed in front of me, two draw sets on each side.
“What the fuck? Who even needs a bed this size? And what’s the point of having posts on every corner?”
I shake my head and make my way around to the left side, and open each drawer. Nothing, nothing, aaaand nothing. I look to the room on my left…bathroom. Stupidly huge bathroom, but probably nothing there. Might as well take a look anyway.
“Huh, lucky.”
I find a brass comb with a green gem in the top, above the teeth. Nothing else, though. I head back to the room and head around to the other drawer set. Window’s letting in a lotta light, so it’ll be easier to see anything good. Bottom drawer? Nothing. Middle? Nothing again…whoa. I pull a piece of cloth out, unfold it, and hold it out in front of me.
“Who the hell’d wear underwear like this? No way this’d cover your ass. Go up the crack at most.”
I shrug and toss it on the floor behind me. Top drawer…huh. There’s a weird cylinder-looking thing, rounded on one end but flat on the other, made of brass. Around twelve inches long and an inch across. It’s got a bunch of jewels in it along the length that stick out a little.
“No idea what the hell this is, but hey, payday.”
I turn around when I hear footsteps comin’ from behind and see the 5’10” frame of Claggor make his way in the room behind me carrying the bag. It might be two feet long and a foot across, but it looks tiny against him. No idea how he’s only 15.
“Oh, hey Vi.”
“Good timing, Clags.”
I make my way over and throw the comb and weird long thing into the bag, then head over to the dresser at the end of the bed. I sit on the stool and start digging through the drawers.
“Anything in the other rooms?”
“Nah, don’t think anyone lives in ‘em. Probably just guest rooms.”
So the owners are rich idiots and they’re tight-asses. Probably think anyone who sleeps in there will steal their shit, but they shoulda been more worried about intruders…like us.
“Jackpot!”
In the top-right drawer, closest the door, I find a whole tray of rings, earrings, necklaces, and random gemstones. I wave Claggor over, then tip them in the bag.
“Whoa, nice haul. Anything left?”
“Just the wardrobe.”
I nod to the door on my left. We make our way in and find a tray with ties, belts, and…watches. Those’ll do. I tip them in the bag and then we head out and back downstairs.
“Dining room?”
“That way, I think.”
We head over to where Claggor motioned. Huge table with high-back chairs. Plates, bowls, knives, forks, and spoons sitting in front of every seat.
“Why do they bother leaving this shit out? Just grab it when you’re gonna eat then keep it in a fucking drawer.”
Claggor shrugs as we start clearing all the silverware from the table. I turn and see a massive cabinet with more plates and shit sitting on the shelves, drawers down the bottom. More silverware clatters when I open the first drawer.
“This feels like way too many forks and shit.”
Claggor shrugs as I pull the drawer off its runner and tip everything in the bag, then do the same for every other drawer. Different metals, but all valuable. Even one set with gems in the handles. So fucking wasteful.
“Alright, that about does it. Kitchen would have some pricey knives, but they’d probably slice the bag open. Let’s head back and check on Powder ‘n Mylo.”
He nods as we head back to the main entry. Man of few words as always. Even if I wasn’t a year older than him, I feel like he still wouldn’t be the leader. We head through to the other side, left of the door we came in, and find Powder in a room full of books.
“They’re gonna be too heavy for the bag, you know.”
“Yeah, I know, but these won’t be.”
She holds out some scissors, ink pots, pens, drawing tools, and even a couple pairs of glasses, all made of brass.
“Not bad, little sister.”
She smiles and dumps them in the bag.
“Alright, let’s go see what our idiot brother’s up to.”
“Hey, he’s not an idiot!”
Claggor comes to Mylo’s defence like always. I swear, they’re even closer than me and Powder, and we’re blood-related. Vander picked us up five years ago after enforcers killed our parents, then Claggor three weeks later, and Mylo one after that.
“Not totally an idiot, you mean.”
Powder’s gettin’ snarkier which is a good sign, given how much Mylo shits on her.
We search around for him, and finding him sleeping on a couch in a massive room with nothing but couches and chairs. I roll my eyes.
“You were saying, Clags?”
I kick the couch and he jerks awake.
“The fuck are you doing? Valuables, remember?”
“Relax, I got you covered.”
He pulls a couple pins with jewels on ‘em from his pocket – think I’ve seen some rich women wear these on their shirts.
“Seriously? That’s all you got?”
“Hey, I broke us in here. The rest is up to you and them.”
He motions his head to Powder and Claggor.
“I did my part.”
I feel the trail of fur start to sprout from the back of my hair and run down my spine, the fangs starting to lengthen in my mouth, and the claws dig into my palms in my fists. No, Vi, it’s not worth it. He’s just a fucking idiot. And…Vander would kill you if you came home with one less sibling. I take a deep breath and feel the shift fade.
“Ugh, forget it. We’ve cleared the place. Let’s go.”
I turn my back and head for the door before he even answers. Claggor and Powder follow, and I hear him roll off the couch and chase after us. I open the door and stroll out, Powder and Claggor following, and Mylo pulls the door closed behind us. I look around, keeping my head movements small as possible.
“Coast is clear. Nice.”
“Gotta love it when a plan goes smooth. ‘Least Powder didn’t jinx us this time, thooough I suppose there’s still time before we get back home.”
I glare at Mylo over my shoulder.
“At least she was doing her fucking job, not taking a damn nap on a couch!”
“Hey, come on, let’s all calm down, okay? We got away with the goods without any hiccups, so let’s stop fighting.”
Claggor’s playing peacemaker like always. Vander’d be proud.
“Pssh, whatever.”
Mylo, on the other hand, is being a childish little bitch. Like always. We turn a corner and head down a dust-covered street. We walk past some blonde guy, maybe a little older than me, sitting on a crate and rolling a barrel under his foot. His clothes tells me he’s a Zaunite like us – black leather pants and boots, dark brown jacket with a metal shoulder plate, and a black shirt. Deer, from the smell of him.
“Nice haul?”
He rolls a barrel under his foot and rolls a finger across his fingers, calling out as we walk past.
“You could say that.”
I shoot a glare at Mylo who turns his head and boasts. Idiot doesn’t know when to shut his fucking mouth.
“Well now, that’s interesting.”
A couple of kids step out in front of us and block the way. Proud-lookin’ dickhead with orangey-blonde hair, and an angry-lookin’ chump with blonde hair.
*Sniff*.
Couple of alley cats. I hear another kid step out behind us, this one smells like…pig? No…boar.
“See, I’d never think that a bunch of peacekeepers would be the type to go and rob a bunch of Pilties.”
He stands from his crate as we turn back to him.
“Doesn’t look too good for Piltover-Zaun relations, y’know? All it’d take is for someone to tell the enforcers that peacekeepers are breaking the law and, well, you know how that’d go.”
“Hehe, yeah, like kicking a hornet’s nest!”
The boar speaks up – pale kid with a buzzcut. From the band-aid across his nose, it looks like someone kicked in his already fucked-up lookin’ face recently.
“That so? Too bad we’re not peacekeepers, though.”
He chuckles and circles around us, stopping in front of his idiots, our eyes following.
“Well, your old man is one, which means you’re ones too. Now, I don’t want any enforcers trekkin’ through my streets--”
“Your streets? What the hell makes you think--”
Claggor steps in front and interrupts me.
“Listen, we don’t want any trouble, okay?”
Yeah, that’s not gonna work here, Clags. They do. I can smell the aggression on them, it’s reeking up all the air in this alleyway.
“Hear that, Deckard? They don’t want any trouble.”
Buzzcut boar speaks again. What, are the cats just for show?
“You know, in my experience, trouble finds you.”
This Deckard kid stares me in the eye while makin’ a threat.
“There’s no reason this has to get ugly. Tell you what, you give me and my boys half your haul, and you can go on your merry way. No-one has to know what you were up to.”
“No, no fucking way. We worked too hard to--”
I tap Mylo on the shoulder, stopping him mid-sentence, as I walk past him and up to Deckard.
“Tell you what, idiot. You and your goons turn the fuck around and go back to whatever pile of shit you crawled out of. If you don’t? Well…”
I look back at the others, then back to him.
“Can’t guarantee you’ll get back home in one piece…if at all.”
I narrow my eyes to show him I mean business. No way he’s gonna run, though, I can smell it. Taste it in the air. I start shifting slowly, carefully. The fur sprouts down my spine under my white shirt, claws grow from my nails, my canines lengthen to fangs. I even feel my tail growing out under my dark brown pants. I angle it to go down my left pantleg and keep it close behind my leg. Took me years to figure this trick out – fuckers who kept comin’ for me would grab it in fights.
“Oh, you just made your last mistake, you bitch!”
He signals his goons and starts shifting as if he couldn’t let the beast out quick enough. A thin layer of blonde fur sprouts over his skin, ears growing longer and ending in oval tips. A pair of eighteen inch antlers burst from his forehead, tipped with six pronged horns on each.
“Hwooor!”
He lets out a weird deer honking noise as he finishes.
“GHROAAR!”
I roar as my face pushes out, fangs on full display. Everything becomes clearer when my eyes finish shifting, better able to see Deckard flinch in fear, the faint smell of piss coming from the boar behind him, made way worse by my enhanced sense of smell with the shifting of my nose.
“Y-you’re a fucking lion!?”
I grin, my face upturned, glaring at him.
“And you’re lunch.”
I hear the bones of Mylo and Claggor shift and pop behind me, smelling stronger the scent of ferret and bison in the air.
“W-wait, what the hell kinda shifter’re you?”
Sounds like Powder’s done, too, confusing people by her more animalistic form as always. I turn, grab the bag from Claggor, and throw it to her. She swings it over the blue shoulder of her shirt. She’s no good in a fight, but she’s pretty fast when she wants to be. I let loose another small roar as I turn back and charge Deckard, grabbing him by the horns and swinging him around to throw him against a wall.
“Vwoor-ragh!”
I see Claggor wrap his arms around the boar, swing him around, and throw him to the ground, causing him to give a gross squeal in pain, dust flying up from where he hit the dirt.
“Rreeow!”
The blonde alley cat, striped with a white patch of fur from his chin to his chest, charges at Claggor, who swings a hooved hand into his face.
*CRACK*.
Wouldn’t be surprised if his nose is broken now, too. Mylo hisses and barks as he swipes the remaining alley cat, a tortoise shell, and leaps to try and bite his throat.
“MYLO! No killing!”
“Scrrr--Ah maaaan…fine.”
*Crunch*.
“GHRAAGH!”
In the moment I looked away, Deckard came charging in, aiming his horns for my ribs. I let loose a part-roar, part-scream of pain as I feel one pierce my skin. But no bones break. I swipe down with the claws on my other hand, and leave a gash across his eye.
“HWOOARGH!”
He screams in pain and pulls back, allowing me to grab him around the arm, swing him down and swing my knee up into his ribs.
*Thunk*.
I grab him by the hair, blood dripping down his forehead when my claws sink through slightly into his scalp, and I swing and toss him into a pile of crates. I walk back up behind him and stomp down with my unshifted feet, sending him crashing through the crates to the ground. I grab my side and spit on the ground. Arrogant trash. I turn and see Mylo scratching at the tortoiseshell’s face, blood slowly staining the fur as small wounds are left behind.
“SQUEE!”
*Thunk*.
The boar gets back up and charges Mylo, his tusks missing any flesh to pierce. I charge him, pick him up from off the top of Mylo, rake down with my right claws, then swing around with my left fist and backhand him across the nose.
*CRACK*.
Hah! If his nose wasn’t broken before, it sure as fuck is now.
*Crunch*.
Claggor throws another fist into the striped alley cat’s ribs, then picks him up, swings him around, and slams him down onto the tortoiseshell. All four, down for the count. I check for Powder’s scent…above us. I look up and see her safe and sound, perching on the top of a pipe. I motion with my head, and she jumps from her hiding place, landing on her feet.
“Too easy. These chumps were barely worth our time.
“Wait!”
Yeah, Mylo, Powder’s the jinx. Fucking idiot. I turn around and see Deckard, still shifted, back on his feet but hunched over holding a rib, a knife in his right hand. Seriously? Can’t win with your shift so you come at me with a fucking knife!?
I roll my eyes and side, my head lolls as I turn around, annoyed I still have to deal with this shit. I stroll over to him and bat the knife from his hand without resistance. I lean down to face level with him.
“See, I was gonna let you off with that, but now? You’ve lost your pride as a shifter. Which means…”
I stand back up straight and grab hold of his horns.
“You won’t be needing these anymore. After all, a deer’s horns are it’s pride, right?”
I start bending them out- and downward.
“No! No, no, NO! PLEASE!”
I sneer down at him, my nose scrunched in rage.
“Scum like you doesn’t get mercy. Not after what you just pulled. This’ll be a nice reminder not to hold your arrogant fucking head so high again.”
*SNAP*.
“YEAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!”
He screams in pain as I toss his former horns to the ground, then turn back to the others.
“Damn, Vi, that was cold. Even if they did deserve it.”
Mylo looks a little spooked.
“Law of the jungle. C’mon, let’s go.”
I head off while shifting back to human form and the others follow. Powder catches up to my side.
“Lose any of it?”
“Nnnope!”
She’s all smiles for some reason. Guess she’s happy that she did her job well so Mylo has nothin’ to swing down on her about later.
“Hnng…”
I give a slight groan as I stretch my back, popping a disk back into place.
*Clunk*.
I pull the lever once we’re all on the elevator platform, causing some dust to fall from the wooden beams wrapped in metal supports.
“Ugh, why’d all of us take hits ‘cept her?”
Mylo motions to Powder. Great, guess even with a win, he tries to find a loss. I turn and glare at him.
“Because it was Powder’s job to guard the goods. Which she did. Would you’ve rathered she helped out in the fight and lost them?”
“I…no…but I’m sick of getting my face beat in!”
I roll my eyes and don’t bother replying. Thought ferrets were supposed to be mischievous and playful, not whiny assholes.
*Thunk*.
We step off into the Lanes when the elevator comes to a stop. The familiar neon lights of blue, red, green, orange, and yellow are the only things that help shifters who aren’t part nocturnal animal see in the dark of Zaun. We walk past the various stalls of merchants and poachers, and pass by the three different stained windows of the brothel – one with red flowers, one with a tan-skinned woman in a long purple dress with orange hair, black stripes covering her skin, and one with various pink bottles over it. The spiked orange hair of Babette, the old yordle madame, shakes slightly as she perks up when we pass. Her orange-brown eyes narrowing as she smiles, causing the heavy blue makeup around them to crease into itself. Finally, we make it home. An orange building with a big circular sign with an orange-brown background. There’s a mug of ale in the centre, a drop of something falling into it above. The words “The Last Drop” are written around the edges, and the whole thing glows yellow.
“Alright, we’ll crash for the night, then take it to Benzo’s first thing tomorrow, got it?”
“Got it.”
“Yeah…”
“Okay.”
We push past the usual crowd out front enter the bar, the door swinging closed behind us. Vander’s sitting in the corner, talking to Huck – a mouse shifter and would-be trader. Couple of human traders are sitting with ‘em. They stink of salt water and rum. He glances up and meets my eyes as we walk through.
“…Shit.”
I look away and keep going to the back room, but I know he’s gonna come after us soon. The door creaks as it swings, then shuts with a loud clunk as we enter the back room. We head downstairs and I slump down in my chair, while Mylo and Claggor sit on their couch to my left. Powder drops to her couch my right.
“Powder, hide the loot. Vander’ll be comin’ down any se--”
*Clunk*. *Creak*.
Fuck. He comes in sooner than I thought and stares down at us from the top of the stairs.
“Everyone alright?”
*Clunk*.
He closes the door and starts heading down the stairs.
“Never better.”
Mylo tries to throw him off, but I can already tell there’s no way he believes it. My nose is good, but a wolf’s? Not much better than that.
“Good.”
He reaches the bottom of the stairs. Yep, that tone? He’s not buying our shit. He lightly pushes off the railing, holds his hands behind his back, and starts circling around. True pack animal instinct.
“I…don’t suppose you could explain why, then, that I had Miranda Grayson down here telling me that a Piltie’s house had been looted? And that four children – one of which had pink hair – were seen in the area?”
Shiiiiiiiiit.
“Dunno, wasn’t us.”
His eyes snap to Mylo.
“Cut the shit. I can smell when you’re lying.”
Might as well fess up, he already knows anyway.
“Okay, yeah, it was us. So what?”
“So…for fuck’s sake, Vi. We’re peacekeepers. It’s our job to uphold the law, make sure everyone down here stays safe. That the enforcers don’t have a reason to come down here!”
My eyes snap to him.
“YOU’RE a peacekeeper. We’re not.”
There’s a knock at the door to the bar.
“Oh for…what?”
The door creaks open again and Huck peeks his head around to us.
“I-ah, sorry to b-b-bother you, Vander, b-but the S-Sheriff is back.”
He sighs.
“Send her down.”
He steps back and a woman with dusky brown skin, black hair, dark brown eyes, and wearing the blue-and-gold enforcer’s uniform steps through, and makes her way down the stairs.
“Wasn’t expecting you back so soon, Miranda. What can I do for you?”
She comes to a stop at the bottom.
*Sniff*.
Fox. Not too many of them down here, but enough that she won’t get pegged as a Piltie.
“There were three boys who checked into the Kiramman medical centre with injuries. Claim they got into a fight with some kids he claimed were peacekeepers.”
“Wait, only three?”
Both whip around and look at Claggor. I sigh and slap my palm to my face. Idiot. You’re meant to be the one who doesn’t give shit away, damnit! Grayson continues.
“Apparently their leader was injured far worse. A deer shifter, supposedly had his horns ripped off.”
I try and sink down in my chair, but Vander looks over, knowing exactly who did it. Ffffuuuuuuck.
“You did what!?”
“Oh come on, they’ll grow back.”
“That’s not the point, Vi. You know damn well that isn’t what we do. It doesn’t matter if they’re a mouse or a dragon, all shifters get treated with the same amount of respect. You crossed a line.”
“Oh for…like I just said, I’m not a peacekeeper! You are.”
*K-thoom*.
Before anyone can say another word, a massive bang comes from outside.
“What the fuck was that?”
Grayson’s looking around, concerned.
*K-thoom*.
“VANDER! Something’s happening outside!”
One of the regulars stops by the door before running off again. Grayson and Vander give each other a look, nod, and head upstairs. He turns back to us when we reach the top.
“Stay here.”
“Pfft, like hell I will.”
He gives a wry grin.
“Enforcer and peacekeeper business only.”
He closes the door, and then…
*Scrrr-thunk*.
“Did…did he just fucking lock us in!?”
I rush up the stairs and try to open the door.
*Thunk*.
“Oh for fuck’s sake. Claggor?”
“On it.”
Dark brown sprouts and covers his pale white skin, his face jutting out as his bison’s snout pushes forward, and two horns make their way through the skin of his forehead, poking out and up. I jump over the railing and land on the floor while he makes his way up the stairs. He punches his hooved hands together, then charges the door. It shatters and we make our way out to the bar, everyone still here but cowering on the ground. I look to the corner of the bar…they’re gone.
“Shit. He’s taken his gauntlets, this is serious!”
Mylo, Powder, and me shift as we start running for the door.
*K-THOOM*.
The door’s gone, nothing to muffle the deafening sound from outside.
“What the actual fuck!?”
There’s a heavily mutated deer shifter in front of us, at least eight feet tall. His skin is grey and the tufts of fur are black. His eyes are glowing blue while the whites have turned black, his body covered in gross, glowing purple veins. A fully-shifted Vander stands in front of it, his guard up.
“SCREEHWOOR! PeaAAceKeEpeRSss!”
The three foot antlers on his head grow another three horn prongs each. The antlers themselves look like they’re made of black stone that eventually fades to the same glowing purple as his veins at the horns.
“Wait…Deckard?”
“SCREEARGH!”
He swings his right arm toward Vander who blocks it, locks it under his left arm, and swings his right fist repeatedly into Deckard’s ribs.
“SCREEE!”
Glowing purple goo flies out of his mouth with each hit. He raises his left fist above his head.
*Bang*. *Vwip-pnt*.
“SCREEEE!”
Deckard screams in pain as someone fires a shot into his left forearm.
“You kids stay back!”
I look to our left and see a shifted Grayson, smoke rising from her gun barrel.
“PeACeKeePerSsS! EnfORcErsSs!”
His muscles bulge and he grows bigger…denser. A crazed look comes over his face.
“Vander! He’s going into a frenzy!”
He senses it, too. He lets go of Deckard’s right arm, now twice the size of his left, and leaps backward, narrowly dodging his hoofed fist, which now has two claws the same colouration as his antlers.
*Bang*. *Vwip-pnt*.
“SCREEEARGH!”
Another shot fired, this time into his right shoulder. He turns to Grayson and lowers his head, then charges. She tries to dodge, but trips on a rock.
“MIRANDA, NO!”
Vander rushes and tries to push her out of the way, but…
*SPLRTCH*.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
I scream as both Grayson and Vander are impaled on his horns. I move before I can even think, can even process what the fuck just happened. I black out in my rage.
“GHROOOOAAR!”
*SPLTCH*.
Blood. But it tastes unnatural. Tainted. I spit it on the ground and look back at the purple shit spilling out of Deckard’s now ripped-open throat, my rage fading.
“You…”
He coughs and spits blood onto the horn stuck in his gut.
“…you did good, kid. Just remember, everyone gets…re…spe…”
“Vander? Vander, no! Come back, don’t die!”
I whip around to the horrified onlookers from the bar.
“SOMEBODY GET A DOCTOR!”
A blur of orange and black rushes past…cheetah, probably. Think there was one in there.
“Van…Vander, no, come on. Wake up!”
My shift fades, tears pissing down my face as Vander smiles up at me lifelessly, holding Grayson’s hand.
...
..
.
*Snrrggk*.
“Hnnng, huh?”
My eyes open and I lift myself off the bed in front of me.
“Shit. That fucking nightmare again.”
I look down at Vander, a small puddle of my drool on his medical gown. His beard’s almost completely white now, and his once full head of dark brown hair is now half white as well.
“Seven years, huh? Still hanging in there though, even if you won’t wake up yet.”
They managed to get him back to the Kiramman clinic in Piltover. The doc managed to stabilise both him and Grayson, but they’ve been in comas ever since. I chuckle as I look down.
“Still won’t let go of her hand, though.”
Apparently they tried having them in separate rooms, but both their conditions worsened. So, eventually, they gave up and just put them on a double-width bed. I stand up and stretch, my back popping a few discs back into place.
“Sorry for using you as a pillow. Lane’s’ve turned to shit lately. Between that and the bar, I barely get any sleep.”
I straighten my dark red jacket and turn to head out.
“Speaking of, I’d better get back to it. I’ll see you next time, dad.”
I step out into the hall and nod to the doctor – dark blue hair, grey beard with a dark blue streak down chin. Some sorta bird, I can’t tell which – not a lotta them down in Zaun. I take a deep breath, trying to catch the scent again and…still just gettin’ bird, nothin’ new. He gives a small wave to me then gets back to his work as I put my hands in my jacket pockets and head for the exit. The door opens and closes with a small ‘clunk’ as I step outside, close my eyes, and take another deep breath and hold it for a few seconds before letting it out.
“Hokay, back to work.”
I open my eyes back up and start heading back go Zaun. No rest for the wicked, and I sure as hell got a lot to make up for.