Throttle and Spark

Vi helped caitlyn navigate the harsh, and to caitlyn so far-- seemingly vile atmosphere of the undercity.

It's cooler in temperature than piltover, caitlyn notices. It smells metallic, and its streets are dim in a way that isn't necessarily deppressive, which is something she would've said a week ago. Instead, it's more..eerie, exciting, concrete walls laced with the thrill of something caitlyn can't yet name.

She can feel the description becoming mire and more familiar on her tongue each time she comes back to the lanes with vi, but it's not quite there yet.

She's confident she'll get it, one way or another. Vi leads caitlyn cautiously through the streets of zaun, informing her of this buildings history, and that really good restaurant, and these graffitied walls She leads caitlyn away, showing her another new place, thing, item, fact.

Whatever caitlyn asks about. She's craving every detail about zaun, why people think it's such a bad place, and why caitlyn thinks it's her new haven. This has been an ongoing situation for about a week amd a half. Two teenage girls sneaking around the lanes, giggling shamelessly as they get away with something new.

Caitlyn did most of the giggles, and vi did most of the 'we have to get out of here, now'.

Yes, it scared caitlyn-- but that'd what she loved. She's gotten sick of being restrained in that big, polished house for her entire life, than she needs something deeper, more freeing and chaotic.

She knows her parents wouldn't approve- but what they don't know can't hurt them, right? It Is true.

What they don't know can't hurt them.

But of course, that means that when they do know, they're hurt.

And they're hurt.

,well -- not necessarily hurt, just more disappointed. Spewing the generic parent things that caitlyn heard every time she broke a tea cup, or every time she didn't bother to wear her big, stupid, bulky helmet when riding her bike.

Things like, for example: "You could've gotten hurt caity," or "how could you be so reckless caity,," or "do you know how dangerous that was, caity?".

Her parents always finds out. And despite her mother's unbridled irritation with every mistake caitlyn makes, or every piece of candy she sneaks behind her back, she knows her father is always rooting for her, silently wishing her luck, or just silently wishing his wife were kinder to their only child. Caitlyn is greatful for her father, no doubt.

But even in this 16 year-long marriage, he can't bear the guilt of speaking against his wife, so-- Away to military academy caitlyn went.

Not necessarily as a punishment, though caitlyn knew her mother wished she saw it more as a punishment.

Caitlyn has been rooting for this academy for a while now. She's always wanted to be a pilot, to be in these big, crazy light shows she sees on new years-eve every year. The only reason she originally protested against going was because of the people-- person- she'd be leaving behind.

Above all else, Vi had become a good friend to Caitlyn. She was sharp, fearless, and fiercely loyal—the kind of person who made you feel safe even when you were somewhere you didn’t belong.

She’d taken Caitlyn by the hand and led her through the undercity, showing her a world she’d only ever heard whispers about.

And, most importantly, she’d let her in. She’d introduced Caitlyn to her family. Caitlyn had fallen in love with them immediately.

The warmth of their home—Vi’s home—felt nothing like the cold, pristine halls of her own.

It was lived-in, messy in the best way, filled with laughter and voices that didn’t shrink themselves down to whispers. Vander, Vi’s adoptive father, had welcomed her without hesitation, treating her like she belonged. And her two brothers—Mylo and Claggor, she was pretty sure—had been just as quick to pull her into their world, cracking jokes and treating her like an actual friend, not just some curious little Piltie sneaking a peek into their lives. Even Vi’s sister, Powder, had warmed up to her. At first, she’d been quieter, more hesitant, watching Caitlyn with wide, calculating eyes. But once the initial shyness wore off, she practically glowed with excitement, constantly tugging Caitlyn aside to show off her latest inventions. And when Caitlyn realized just how fascinated Powder was by mechanics, she started teaching her about jets—engines, aerodynamics, all the things that had stolen her curiosity the way invention had stolen Powder’s. It became their own little secret, their shared obsession. It had all happened so fast—too fast. One moment, she had more friends than she could count. The next? She was being ripped away from them, boxed up and shipped off like a package stamped with the wrong postal code. Vi had gotten over losing Caitlyn. Mostly.

For about a month, maybe longer, there was a hollow sort of loneliness that clung to her—one she didn’t quite know how to shake. She tried filling it the way she always had, hanging around the usual spots, looking for people her age to pass the time with. But it wasn’t the same. She’d never needed friends before, not really. She never understood why people craved them so badly. She had Powder, Mylo, and Claggor. That was enough. That had always been enough. At least, until Caitlyn came along. For two weeks, Caitlyn had been her best friend. And then, just like that—she wasn’t. Gone. Shipped off to some academy Vi couldn’t even remember the name of. Eventually, she got over it. She had to. She missed Caitlyn, sure. They all did. But missing someone didn’t change anything, and life didn’t stop moving just because you wanted it to. So, like always, Vi adapted. She buried the ache, let the memory settle somewhere deep where it wouldn’t bother her, and moved forward. By the time she was old enough, she started taking jobs with Vander, throwing herself into work, into responsibility, into something real. She followed him around the shops, watching him work on engines and greasy hunks of roaring metal. She watched him, she copied him, and she learned from him.

Seven years later—give or take—Vander was offered something unexpected: a position at the nearest air force base. A steady job, all necessities covered, and more than enough to live comfortably.

At first, he was thrilled, entertained by the idea of working on high-grade military jets, of spending his days surrounded by the hum of engines and the scent of oil and metal. But to Vi’s—at the time, deep—disappointment, he turned it down. Instead, he handed the opportunity to her.

“This is yours, kid,” he’d told her, arms crossed, expression unreadable. “It’s bigger than what we’ve got here. More stable. More serious. You’re ready for it.” And maybe he was right.

Maybe it was exactly what she needed—

- something steady, something real, something that actually paid enough to stop scraping by. So, with a reluctant farewell and a bag slung over her shoulder, she left.

off to something bigger she went.

It's only vi's first week here. It's been easy to warm up, and it helps that she's been informed of Ekkos soon-to-be arrival within the next month. Atleast she'll have someone around that she actually knows.

The barracks stink, vi has come to realize. The beds are stiff, and showers are more limited than she'd like. It takes her back to the time she'd served in prison, and she realizes that these two experiences arent all that different. She can get used to this, since she's already somewhat familiar with it. Somewhat.

What’s different, though, is the silence. Prison was never quiet. There were always voices.

—muffled conversations, shouts from down the hall, the occasional brawl that kept the tension sharp. Here, in the barracks, it’s a different kind of quiet. The kind that makes her restless. The kind that says everyone is too exhausted to bother with anything outside of their routines.

The mechanics she works with are fine. They’ve been welcoming enough, and some have even thrown in a few jokes to see if she could keep up. She did.

But there’s still that lingering feeling that she’s the new one, and people keep their distance just enough to remind her of it.

She doesn’t mind, though. She’s used to people needing time before they trust her, and honestly, she’s not sure how much she trusts them either. Her hands are already calloused from the work.

The engines are nothing like the rough, put-together machines she used to tinker with back in Zaun—these jets are sleek, high-tech, expensive.

She wonders how many lives they’ve taken, how many they’ve saved. Vi’s never been the kind of person to sit and ponder the philosophy of war, but working on these machines… it makes her think.

She lies back on her stiff mattress, staring at the ceiling. One month until Ekko arrives. Until then, she just has to keep her head down, do the work, and settle into the rhythm of this place. She closes her eyes, trying to ignore the smell of sweat and metal. It’ll get easier. It always does.

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The hum of the airfield was steady, a familiar rhythm Caitlyn had grown used to over the years. The scent of jet fuel and crisp morning air filled her lungs as she adjusted the cuffs of her uniform, standing at attention in front of her commanding officer.

The academy had drilled discipline into her, but nothing quite compared to the feeling of freedom she found in the air.

She had spent years chasing that freedom, pushing herself through every flight test, every maneuver drill, every grueling night of studying aircraft schematics. It had been worth it. All of it.

She had become one of the best. And now, she was being sent on tour. “The demonstration tour is a big deal, Kiramman,” her lieutenant flight colonel was saying. “It’s not just about showing off.

It’s about inspiring people. Recruitment is down, and we need pilots like you to remind people what we stand for.” Caitlyn nodded.

She’d expected this assignment—it was an honor, really—but there was still a lingering hesitation in her chest. Touring meant long months away from base, from routine, from the place she had finally learned to call home. Her colonel continued, flipping through his notes. “And we’re assigning a personal mechanic to you. Jet Engine Mechanic.”

Caitlyn barely held back a sigh. Her eyes flickered up to her colonels face. A personal mechanic? She didn’t need one. “With all due respect, sir, that won’t be necessary,” she said, straightening her back. “I know my jet better than anyone. If something needs fixing, I can handle it.”

The colonel didn’t look up. “Not up for discussion, Kiramman.” Caitlyn clenched her jaw. She was one of the best pilots in the program, and she prided herself on her independence.

She trusted the engineers back at base, sure, but a dedicated mechanic breathing down her neck, following her from show to show? Babysitting her?

It felt unnecessary. She forced herself to keep her tone level. “Sir, with all due respect, I—”

“You’ll be working closely with her, so get used to the idea.” The colonel finally met her gaze, unimpressed by her pushback. “Vi’s one of the best we’ve got. You’ll appreciate her when you need her.”

Caitlyn blinked.

“Vi?”

“Violet,” he corrected, flipping to another document.

“Goes by Vi. Transferred in a few weeks ago. Strong recommendations. Solid record. Knows her way around an engine like it’s second nature.”

Caitlyn exhaled sharply, glancing at the roster in front of her. The name meant nothing to her. Still, something about it stuck. But for now, all she could think about was how frustrating this arrangement was going to be.