Meeting Silco
Piltover: Academy Deans Office, Morning
The Dean’s office was spacious, opulent and largely unused by the Yordle, Loki concluded as he stood in the foyer of the chambers. It truly was a shame, even in Asgard space wasn’t something to be wasted. From what he could deduce from what he was looking at, Professor Cecil Heimerdinger preferred his own work lab rather than this space, as there was little in the room that connected him to it. It was understandable, Loki decided. Heimerdinger was a craftsman and preferred to spend his time in the realm of study and discovery to which the Asgardian admired the small spirit being. This office was for meetings with his fellow councilors, or with the rank-and-file students, not his favorites like Jayce Talis. Now what this boy had discovered was a cause to take notice.
Talis had discovered something completely fascinating, judging from the notes that Viktor had passed onto him or a consultation last evening. The physics presented in the notes riveled the science of Asgard, and it thrilled him. For the past several months he had been learning Runeterran magic and combining it with Asgardian Runes and getting amazing results. If he needed to go to a place, such as Demancia, he could gate there within moments, though oddly enough there was a chronologic skip of four hours each time though to him it was instantaneous. Something he’d need to investigate to prefect the spell. Physics was a good cover for his magical research, as there were similarities between magic and theoretical physics.
“Ah, Professor Odinson.” Viktor said, entering the dean’s office. “My apologies for keeping you waiting.” Hanging his overcoat on the coat tree and passing him by, his cane thumping on the carpeted floor. “You have a meeting with Professor Heimerdinger this morning, yes?”
“Indeed, but I am glad to see you.” Loki smiled. “I looked over your research last night, and I will tell you that the physics work is inspired, especially for the realm of the theoretical application of it.”
“Really?” Viktor looked to him, placing his shoulder bag on the small desk across from the deans. “So hypothetically, the science is sound.”
Loki nodded. “And then some. The McGuffin needs to rotate at a high speed to stabilize.”
Viktor brows furrowed. “McGuffin?”
“An item that is the point of interest, regardless of what it is. A Freljord staying.” He smiled.. “It’s also a theater term, for an item that moves the plot along but that’s neither here nor there.” he waved it off. “High speeds will allow stabilization. It was a stretch to find it, I had to call on Vaido Violante’s papers on Brackern Crystals and the science behind them, as well as Stanwick Pedidly’s works.” As Viktor looked through the post and placed letters on the desk for the professor and taking the rest to his own. “This has a lot of potential, Viktor, and if there’s anything I can do to help, feel free to reach out, I’d like to know the progress.” Loki said and added. “Just don’t blow up the academy. I rather like my job.” And turned to see Heimerdinger enter. The diminutive yordle professor quickly moved towards his desk, waving at the pair. “Loki my boy, how are you.” The Yordle said as he passed by, and Loki felt the tiny paws of the Professors Poro, who was rearing up on him for a pet. He of course did.
“What’s on the docket today, Viktor.” He settled into the desk, cheerfully going over the post. “I’m sure it will be a full day!”
“First thing this morning, Professor Odinson has a meeting with you.” He said, motioning to Loki, who bowed his head in greetings. “Following that in between classes you have a short meeting with Filex Giopera regarding an ongoing attitude issue in Dr. Crowley’s civics class and you have lunch with Councilor Medarda at the Observatory. Your afternoon is free, so I have logged it as research time.” And picking up the packets and mail, he gave the professors a nod and left the office leaving them alone.
“So, Loki, what can I do for you today.” Heimerdinger asked as he poured a cup of coffee into mugs and offered one to him. Loki took it gratefully.
“I wished to continue our conversation on the student I wanted to sponsor.”
“The Crownguard girl?” Heimerdinger shook his head in surprise. “I had believed that we had resolved that issue. The logistics in keeping a member of a noble house from Demancia is challenging, as well as the political implications.” He sighed. “I understand that she has a brilliant mind for zoology and anthrozoology, but young Luxanna will have to...”
“I refuse to accept that, Cecil.” Loki interrupted, putting the mug down. “We are passing an opportunity to reach out to an influential young woman who will have a voice in her government, not to mention she will speak favorably for Piltover. Wouldn’t the mercantile families find an opening into The Great City of Demancia?”
Heimerdinger narrowed his eyes at him. “Stooping to such a level does not look good on you, my boy.” Shaking his head. Loki could only smirk. “It wouldn’t be till next year, in any case. She’s just turned twelve and she can’t be admitted till she is thirteen.” He said, smiling. “I think I will be able to convince you over the next cycle.”
“I look forward to our sparring!” the Yordle stated, a slight giggle emanating from his fuzzy face. “So many changes over a years’ time, but it’s also barely a blip of a moment.” Loki nodded, giving the dean a genuine smile. “Here’s to hoping I convince you otherwise.” He raised his coffee mug and finished the drink. With that, he stood up and with a final nod to Heimerdinger, exited the offices. He had classes to teach, and a young girl to tutor.
Undercity: the Last Drop, Morning
Left Left Right Dodge
Left Left Right Uppercut Weave dodge
Right Left Left Dip Under Uppercut
Dodge Dodge Weave Dodge.
“Alright, take a minute.” Steve Rogers said, holding up the cushions he was using as training pads as Vi took a step back, taking off the padded gloves and grabbing the glass jug of water, took large swigs from it. She worked the practice pads for three minutes and took a minute to break for water and a breather. They had been working the pads for the past hour, alternating with some new training with a skipping rope and something he called a speedbag, and Vi was pretty much spent. It had been nearly two weeks since her fight in the Arcade and subsequent concussion, which at this point had cleared up but Vander wanted her to take it easy until Dwarma gave her a clean bill of health. Physically, she was fine, and ready to rumble she told everyone. Inside she still felt shook, her world that she had come to understand had been upturn. She knew that there was magic in the world, but it never EVER confronted her on a personal level. The magic asshole... Urnst, that’s what she heard him called... could shoot power from his hands, raise the dead and create a magic bomb. How do you fight that?
She had fought that with and came out alive.
Vi had been terrified beyond her own rational thought and came out the other side changed. She couldn’t look at the Lanes without thinking about how the crowd just watched while she and her sister got brutalized and didn’t lift a finger other than Babette who had approached them but retreated when magic started flying. The Enforcer came to her aid, the Sheriff and her gun and at one point she’d thought she was getting shot at, and only a few hours more enforcers used her as target practice. Maybe Grayson was the one good enforcer, and after making her statement to the woman, Vi could see the rage rise in her. The Sheriff wanted to keep in touch just on her own, without Vander and she had agreed after the Sheriff said she could tell Vander about their conversations. She still wasn’t thrilled that Vander and Benzo had a deal with the Sheriff, but she understood.
“You ok?” Steve asked her, shaking her out of her head space. The soldier had his own bottle of water, taking swigs off of it. He had attached the speed bag to the rafters of the Rumpus Room, and so far, only Claggor and herself had been using it. Mylo took the stance of “If I have to start boxing, I’ve already messed up.” She had gotten use to Blondie being around, and he was a good training partner and was a good listener. He never interrupted and his advice was ok.
“I’m fine.” Vi said, stretching out her hands after the workout. She was still feeling the after effects of the bullet wound. “Just thinking.”
“I get that. I do a lot of thinking while I’m boxing. Both good and bad.” He said, nodding. “When I work the bags, I find myself going back to the war sometimes, reliving the worst of it.” Steve took another drink of the water. “I never wanted to kill people; I didn’t want to kill anyone. I did what needed being done.”
“I never did either till I saw Powder getting tortured by the magic asshole.” She said, sitting down. “It was probably better I didn’t.” she took a drink of water, shrugging. “I don’t count the skeletons. Fuck skeletons.”
Steve smirked at that and raised his water bottle “I’ll salute that.” He checked his timepiece and leaned back. “No time for another round, I need to take over for Vander soon.” Vi looked up at him, eyebrow raised. “He has something going on?”
“Some dispute between a couple of businesses that needs arbitration before it goes to blows.” He shrugged. “Nothing too horrible, but it's something he needs to take care of himself.” He smirked “I offered to go with him, but he had it covered. I think he’s taking Claggor with him.”
“I would have gone with him.” Vi said, sitting up and wincing. Her side was still pretty tender even after the bullet wound had closed up and infection had been averted. Dwarma wanted her to keep it covered and clean and kept a compression wraps around her ribs, which were still tender. Falling from a second-floor roof could do that to you. Steve nodded. “You got nothing else going on today?”
Shrugging, Vi deflated into the chair. “This was the highlight. Powder is over at Benzo’s using the workbench with Ekko. She’s thought out some improvements for Mylo’s multitool, and Mylo is hanging out with them to make sure they don’t break it.” Sitting forwards, she rubbed some dirt off the palm of her hand. “I thought I’d take a walk around the Lanes and see what pops up. I haven’t been around since....”
“You’re going to check out the arcade.” He said, looking at his own feet. “Just from personal experience, it won’t be easy.” She nodded. “I have to face it.”
“I get it.” He said, checking his time piece again. Blowing out his breath, he stood up and grabbed the bottle. “I'll be at the bar if you need to talk. You experienced something that most people couldn’t imagine, so give yourself a break if you can’t muscle through. You have a family that covers your six all day. If nothing else, find me and I’ll do whatever I can.” He let that settle in for a moment before he headed upstairs to the bar leaving her alone with her thoughts. Vi sat there for several minutes before getting up and heading out of the back door the Last Drop, pulling her hoodie over her head and stuffed her hands into the pockets.
She made her way down the alley to Market Street and followed the road that led to what use to be the hideout. She passed by the shops and food stalls who were prepping for the second shift factory workers, who usually ventured out of their jobs to eat at Jericho’s or Banyo’s. It felt different somehow as she moved through the Lanes. People she’d known for years just looked away or found something else to look away at. Some just gave her an uncomfortable look and kept moving. They knew that they had done and didn’t want to face it. Had the magic asshole killed them, the people around the lanes would have had the dialog of “Oh, poor Vi, killed so early in life. Such a pity.” And “Poor Vander, lost his kids.” Maybe even “That’s what she got, had it coming.”
Someone could have stepped in, maybe thrown some shit at the mage. She would have. She would have bent over backwards for any one of these people. They were just watching. Cowards.
Vi turned to the street with the Arcade and looked at the destroyed building that had been the hideout, the place where they had hung out, felt safe. Now it was a jagged hole in a surrounding building. She scanned the ground in front of the blown-out funhouse, her feet crunching on the glass that use to be the stained-glass window as she stepped across the threshold and into the arcade.
Everything was burned to ash, several of the rafters had collapsed into the game floor making it nearly impossible to walk deeper into the arcade. Vi glanced to where the Boxing machine laid, now scorched metal and melted padding and the shooting gallery was black shard wood and chard metal struts. The arcade was gone, and now that she saw it confirmed it. Nothing lasts forever, especially in the Undercity.
“So, showing your face around again, huh?” The voice came from behind her, and she turned to see Deckard, leaning up against the ruined window frame. Next to him was Sid, Rusty and the other two who she couldn’t remember and didn’t care to. “You may not be too welcome around here from now on.”
“Is that right.” Vi said, her eyes boring into Deckard. The bottom feeder walked forward into her range, but she held her attack. It wasn’t the time and really didn’t need another altercation.
“People think your cursed now, and they don’t want it rubbing off on them.” He smeared. “Lucky for you, my Boss doesn’t see it that way and wants to have a chat.” Two of his gang stepped inside the arcade, blocking her escape. This was going to go really bad, or worse than bad. Was it worth the beating?
“Sure...” She said, shrugging. “Never hurts to talk, right?” and inwardly smiled at Deckard’s disappointed face. He really wanted to pound her. “Lead on...”
It was a pretty long walk to the lower docks, moving through several territories that Vi would usually avoid as it wasn’t worth the hassle to deal with the gangers down here. She, Claggor and Mylo use to play down here in some of the abandoned factories until they were chased off my redcap addicts. Then they’d just wait till they were gone and go back or find another place to play. The lower docks were the major shipping port for Zaun, now unused except for smuggling ships and criminal exports. None of which was her problem. Deckard walked to her side, with Sid on the other with the rest of his gang keeping an eye on her, making sure she didn’t take off.
“If I, were you, I’d keep a civil tongue in your head. The Boss isn’t one to appreciate your shit.” Deckard said, apparently tired of the lack of conversation. Vi figured he was trying to rattle her, but that wasn’t going to happen, especially from this ass hat.
“How about something useful, like what does he want.” Vi said. “Or am I wasting my time.”
“He’s heard of your crew and wants to talk to you about some jobs.” He told her. “He thinks you have something to contribute.” He added a shrug. “He pays well.”
She nodded and continued along in silence even as Deckard and Sid chatted along as they walked which was getting on her nerves even before the first word came out of their mouths. She wasn’t in a position to shut them down, and the prospect of a job sounded like something she could get into. Doesn’t hurt to listen.
They turned down the docks towards an old cannery, that according to the old faded crab sign on the roof they were headed to the Bardin Ray seafood factory, and she was pretty sure it was a place her brothers hand her had been to some years back. It stuck out in her mind as the skylights were never locked. Vi logged that in for later. As they approached, a large man stepped out from the foyer. He was covered in body tattoos and multiple piercings on his face. He glared at me as I passed and thrust his arm out surprising Deckard and his crew. “Just her.” Big man said and waved them away. Deckard shoved his hands in his pockets and with a look that could kill, motioned for his guys to leave. Big man motioned for her to enter and follow him.
“Sorry as hell that happened to you.” The Big man said. I looked up at him, surprised. She’d never seen this guy before, as he stood out in a crowd, and news runs fast through the Lanes, and it has been a couple weeks. Vi was honestly surprised that the event hadn’t already gone through the channels and forgotten already.
“Were you there?” Vi asked the Big man, who shook his head. “Heard about it from some sources, sounds like you and the kid gave that wizard what he had coming.”
“Deckard says I’m a pariah because I’m cursed.” She smirked, trying to be as flippant as she could allow herself.
“People are embarrassed and ashamed that they couldn’t find the backbone to help two kids being attacked.” He said, opening the door to a large, bright room with multiple stairs. “The onus is on them, not you.” He motioned for her to enter, and Vi looked up to the Big man. “Thanks...”
“Lock, thank you for walking her in.” Came a refined voice, as for a moment she thought maybe it was a Pilty. Vi looked towards the voice and saw a thin, well-dressed man in burgundy with a facial scar that include his infected eye. Lock closed the door behind her, leaving her alone with him. Vi turned and faced the scarred man as he approached.
“Violet... Such a pleasure to see you.” He said, a smile crossing his face, with cracked the damaged part of his face. “I heard of your troubles.” He was trying to make a connection with me, using information that he probably got from Lock she thought, though he used her full name, which a lot of old timers used who knew her folks. Did this man know them?
“You know me, but I don’t know you, Suit.” Vi said, hands on hips. This earned her a raised eyebrow. Whether is was a good thing or bad remained to be seen.
"My name is Silco.” He said, giving her a nod, “I was a comrade of Felicia and Connel during the revolution, and worked together with them before in the mines. We three with Benzo and Vander worked diligently for the cause of Zaun.” He said and gave a small smile. “You were very small when I first met you, and you always handed me the bunny.” he chuffed himself. “Well, you handed EVERYONE Bunbun, but I made it hop which lightened the mood, even for Vander who was much dourer during that time.”
“You knew my folks. Were you...” He knew about Bunbun.. was he at the bridge too?
“No, I was still recovering from...” and pointed at his eye. “I don’t know if I’d have made any difference, truth be told. The entire operation was a...” He snarled and closed his good eye. The infected one just glared forward, a hateful ember. “I wasn’t there.” he said, waving away the thought and relighting his cigar. Frowning, he spat “Cheap leaf...” dropped it, and stubbed it out with his heel, blowing out the drag in frustration.
“You were about to say it was a cluster fuck.” Vi spat. He’s going to blame Vander for the bridge,
“I was, but It’s not my place to say.” Silco straightened, back to a dignified standard. “My apologies, Violet, I was caught up in nostalgia. I was rather fond of your parents, and regret I never got to meet Powder. your sister hadn't been born yet when last I saw them.” Lock entered the room and handed him a fresh cigar, and just as he’d entered, he left without a word. Silco lit it and gave a nod at the doorway. “Nostalgia isn't why you’re here, is it.”
“Deckard said you were looking for some robbers, and my crew might fill the bill.” and I want you to continue to talk about the past and all the secrets and hidden shit you can think of since Vander keeps that time in his life close to his vest, she thought. Vi didn’t remember much from her childhood from those days, and she certainly didn’t remember this guy, but he knew about Bunbun. She remembered someone that made the stuffed toy hop around and she remembered being delighted. She didn’t remember Vander either, but she remembers a large man who was very angry, though not at her.
“That’s correct, I am looking for a crew that could be trusted with some acquisitions I may need in the near future.” Silco stated. “I’ll need to assess your skill level, of course with some jobs I have in mind and passing, you will be given more lucrative opportunities.” He said, walking around the space. “We could do great things together, Violet.” he added, “If you're interested.”
“I have to think about it, talk it over with my brothers.” She said hand on her hips, she could look confident even if she wasn’t. We would have blown the last one had we actually gone and done it. Luckily for them, the place they were going to rob blew up the day before the heist.
“I would ask for nothing less.” Silco nodded, accepting what she said. “Plus, I’m sure you need more time to heal.” he took a drag from the cigar. “My understanding you were grievously hurt.”
“So, it sounds like you were friends? Allies?” Vi asked, ignoring his attempt at information gathering hidden behind empathy.
“Comrades.” He said simply and added after a few moments of consideration. “We had a... falling out.”
He picked it up just as soon as she had dropped it. He was quick, but that didn’t surprise her. “So I should keep this meeting between us for now.” Vander doesn’t need to know about this yet. Maybe he never would if she passed on it. If.
“I think it would be best, your adoptive father seems a different person from when we fought together, but our falling out came with... Scars. For both of us. Best not to stir that pot unnecessarily, I think.”
“Makes sense.” Vi said, nodding, no reason to involve Vander yet, but she may ask about the people he knew around that time. Did she trust this guy? No. She had a feeling that this guy was one of the rising crime bosses that were running part of the Lanes which wasn’t something that she was averse to, but was it worth it to steal for someone else? A failure would add on an extra layer of trouble that she may not want. All things to think about.
“Ah, before you go.” Silco said, suddenly remembering something. “Your new bartender is Steve Rogers, correct?” He said, a smirk on his face. Vi had been looking at the door but hadn't thought of a way to excuse herself. She’d thought about just running for it, but that might give off the wrong message to a possible employer who is a connected crime boss. Maybe he noticed her readiness to leave. He fished a small green disk out of his pocket and tossed it to her. “I believe this is his.”
Vi caught it and rolled it over in her hand. It did indeed have his name on it. “What is it?”
“A compass, someone found it and tried to make a trade with it. I would have normally kept it, but it had a photo inside that seemed more than just a keepsake.” He chuckled. “Call it the romantic in me, but It seemed that it would be better suited in his possession.”
Ok, that had surprised her, “I’ll make sure he gets it.” and stuffed in into a pocket. “Thanks. Blondie will appreciate it.” and looked towards the doorway. Lock was waiting for her, nodding at her. She looked back at Silco and gave him a quick nod and moved to meet with Lock, and the pair exited the building. A few moments after they left, Silco sighed.
“Violet is gone.” He said aloud, and joined by a woman from the next room, moving to stand next to him. Her attire was equal to his own, impeccably dressed in the finest Piltovan fashion. Her chem-arm and steam hybrid prosthetic matching her current outfit, which was ivory white off her left shoulder. She was a Piltovan, but one that had experienced some setbacks in her life, more so than most topsiders. Her face carried some scars, and her arm replacement was a definite product of the Undercity, but the casing was all Piltover.
“So that’s her, the one with the Sheriff’s ear.” The woman asked, looking in the direction that the girl had left. “My sources said her sister made a connection with the Sion of house Kiramman. Not an easy task as a Zaunite.”
“I wouldn’t know of that, Renata.” Silco said, smoothing out his vest. “Perhaps you should look into that with your own connections Topside.” He turned towards her, and crossed his arms. “Your contact divulged what else to you?”
“That a lot of information is being kept within the House Intelligencer realm of influence. The Sheriff exploded at her own people. Apparently, she wasn’t pleased that her own people wouldn’t come to the rescue of a Trencher in need. No offense.” Lady Glasc stated, examining the fingertips on her artificial hand. Silco waved it off. “I shall have more information when next I meet my contact.”
Silco nodded. “I shall keep my own ear to the ground. We can reconvene in a few days.” Renata nodded in agreement and the two walked in separate directions. Renata Glasc left the building, meeting her own men outside and taking the waiting carriage back Topside while Silco made his way back down to his office below the water level in the observatory.
Undercity: The Dredge Prison, Black Orchid Keep, Evening
The Maestro listened intently as Zora Reez related what happened in Piltover during the botched kidnapping of Caitlyn Kiramman. How her brother Takjira was brutalized by the interloper who was capable of throwing a full-grown man in armor across a street with enough force to knock them unconscious. The Brothers of the Black Orchid bit the capsules that ended their existence of their own free will, and she was able to portal her brother away before the man got his hands on him. The man who was fast enough to redirect Takjira’s energy release into another of the Brothers.
Urnst was lost to them as well, killed by two Trencher children and the Sheriff of Piltover. The mage would be missed, as he had a viscousness that was very useful to the Brotherhood. Maestro would send him on tasks for the Black Orchids and would always come back. Had the dark mage become complacent? It was possible, but unlikely as Urnst took his gift seriously. The leader of the Black Orchid Society steepled his fingers as young Zora ranted on how the next encounter would end differently and how Takjir would make up for his failure, and how they would feel their wrath.
To be honest, the Maestro tired of her prattling on.
“Enough, Zora.” The hooded man said, exasperated. “Takjir failed to secure the Kiramman girl, and you were seen rescuing him. Because of your mistake, Piltover knows the Society has resurfaced.”
“It wasn’t our fault, Master...” She pleaded, “It was that Intelligencer. The one that...”
The Maestro waved her off, and turned his chair back to his scrying orb. Zora stared a moment, crushed before she turned and left the chamber. The Black Orchid leader glared into his Scrying orb for several minutes before pacing the device back on its pedestal and sitting back in the chair. His operatives had been defeated handily by children in one case, and by an interloper in another. He stood up, and exited the convocation chamber into his private study.
On the central table the Brackern Crystals that had been recovered from Jayce Talis’s workshop were safely suspended in the dark gelatinous fluid inside a glass tank that had been sourced from creatures that still roamed the Shurima, infected by the Void. The excrement held the powerful orbs safely until they could be cut by a proper slicer into more manageable shards. With four of them, the Black Orchids would have power free of the Mana lines for some time. Undetectable power.
Hidden power.
It had been too soon for the Society to surface; he realized that now. He blamed himself, as there was no other who could bear the weight of this failure. Only he could possibly forgive the fools whose foolishness emboldened him to rash action. His failure was listening to others, and not trusting his own insight.
No, only his own council he will keep from this point on, at least until his partners were ready to move forward with his vision in tandem with their own. Maestro stepped out onto the balcony overlooking what use to be the prison yard, now the marshalling and training area for the Black Orchids in the Dredge. Ranks of cast offs from Noxus, Demancia, Zaun and Bilgewater were pulled together, either by hook or crook, to the Dredge and recruited to the army of the Black Orchid Society, and a company of them stood beneath him. Augmentation was common among them, arms replaced with prosthetics where there was none before and new strength added through chem-tech generators and augmenters.
The Dredgenauts either succeeded in their training or were thrown into the sumps to be forgotten and perish though they are generally dead before tossed into the abyss. Many learned infiltrations and were currently within the ranks of the Piltovan Enforcers as well as some of the Gangs of the Undercity. Those of course were not augmented to the extent to the soldiers that were present today. These were under the command of the General, his own personal followers. The Sons of Ur.
The former Noxian General Urgot paces Infront of the assembled troops, and whips them into a hateful rage against any who stand against the Voice. The Voice that tells of freedom from Piltover, the sun-stained people who deserve nothing more than destruction, unless they hear the Voice, of course and surrender themselves to the sump. His words of course, but not his Voice. He knows the value of a fanatic, and the Noxian gained a following without trying.
Urgot’s chosen Voice, a trencher named Skagg, walks behind him and acts has his second in command and doubles as a religious leader for both the more gullible troops and the prison miners that still toil for chemical components. Rather than work for a private company, they work for the Black Orchid Society. No chemical, no ore, nothing leaves the dredge without the Society’s knowledge and permission. Maestro knew how fortunate he was that Urgot had thrown into the Black Orchid’s cause, since it corresponded with his goals of collapsing Piltover.
Maestro didn’t want to collapse Piltover, just to control it.
It was owed to him…