[ Hes just LURKING OK but clearly he was right to this just proves it!! ]
Ah yes, and what an excellent time to share with others that you have imprinted with a "nasty" individual, hm?
You can decry the process all you like. I would agree. I do not trust these imprints, and if I could remove them, I would.
Perhaps next time if you wish to complain, you should keep your conversations limited, to prevent patho-gen from watching. And others. I don't make a habit of sharing details. I would suggest you do the same.
[ She has to be imagining it, surely, but even over text... Is that defensiveness? Hurt? Surely not. And yet something's there between these lines, beyond the vitriol, and she actually has to take some time to sit with it. Perhaps it's the imprint, perhaps it's that mirror-empathy. Perhaps she's only imagining it.
Mel sighs. ]
You're correct in that I should have handled it better. I am, however, still trying to find information. You want out of this as much as I do, as much as anyone else would be.
[ In reality, the fault is with neither of them. In an ideal situation, it wouldn't have happened to begin with, and they wouldn't be having this conversation. Would she enjoy hearing anyone, disliked or not, speaking such things about her? ]
This situation makes all of us vulnerable and rife for use. [ Open to be used, something he likely despises as much as she. ] That isn't my intention, whether you believe it or not.
[ Silco understands how easy it is. He's not bothered with being palatable, or easy to accept. In this world, in any world. He's a trencher. It will never matter the efforts, it will never matter how much he tries or attempts, after all. The peaceful methods ended in riots, arrests, and mutilation.
There was never any other avenue.
They have imprinted. He needs to remove it. Medarda will only allow "Working" with him as long as it is convenient for her plans. (He would do the same.) He knows discarding is expected.
It's easier, isn't it, if one is the enemy. She may not realize it, but she has reminded him of a fact that the imprint seeks to soften. The line in the sand. ]
I am aware of what it does. It is why I have avoided it for the most part. The notable exceptions proving my caution correct. If we can remove it, then we should discover that sooner, rather than later.
After all, I can imagine it would be distasteful, to remain longer than necessary, wouldn't it? I certainly agree.
[ A barb, aiming to hurt. It feels more like a wounded animal lashing out. ]
[ Oh, that's definitely defensive. Mel can see it now as if Silco were in front of her, as if she were reaching past the veil to glance deeper. She'd tried to peer into his soul once before but perhaps she should have tried another way, something more in tune with the resonance within her. But this, this is familiar; this isn't so unlike looking into a mirror.
It's uncanny that it resembles so much of herself. Of the thorns around the pieces of her that her mother tried to mold. ]
I will continue to look into it. If and when an alternative is found, I'll be certain that you are made aware so you can cut the chain yourself.
You may not believe me, Silco, but I do not find the imprint with you any more distasteful than any other I may have. The tether is just that: a tether meant to tie one down, and it chafes whether it's from you or someone else. You are as dangerous as I am and far less so than our captors. Still, I would much prefer to work with you than against you.
I've no desire to repeat the sins of decades. We've both seen where it puts us.
I was forced to live it. Remember that. It does you no good to be conciliatory, we fissure folk have no use for it. What we respect is action.
[ What else did they have? Promises and words were worthless. They were painfully useless.
He hated them. Words like that. Compassion. Topsiders always said things. "Poor Trenchers" while they refused to even give them a seat at the table. ]
Councilor, I don't want these imprints no matter who they come from. I know the price of trust. I know what it will cost me personally. It forces us together, and it forces us to seek one another out. I can already feel it. This thing makes you want to listen to me, because we are communicating. I feel it too, it wants to soften my approach, think about how pointing out that you say nasty in one communication, and "not any more distasteful" in another might upset you.
If you wish to work with me, then perhaps you should try. Are you even aware of my work? How far we already come? Or is it rumors and conjecture that inform you still?
I am aware. I was negligent. We were all negligent, and its cruelty has marked yours for generations.
[ It isn't conciliatory. It is fact, one she has sat with for months now, a wound rubbed raw again and again. She doesn't try to close it these days; instead, she carries it, and uses it as an excuse to keep pushing people away. Hubert's gone ahead to stab into it repeatedly for all that he has no idea who and what she is.
But she knows. And Silco won't allow her to forget it. ]
I am still myself. The imprint may impose upon me but it does not control me, nor does it control you. We are better than its whims. I am listening to you as I have since my arrival here. Your perspective has been necessary for me, whether you believe it or not.
[ It isn't much but it's a start. ]
I am not aware of your work. [ Beyond what Takasugi's told her. ] You haven't told me. So tell me now.
[ She wants to argue the point. Nothing she did was with the ill-intent of harming people. But the distinction is important enough to Silco for him to counter it, and so she doesn't. The council will always be the villain of his story, and she won't try to rewrite history. There are no victors among the ashes here. ]
You are not inspiring confidence in me that this time will be different, Silco.
[ To work against him will make an enemy of him. She's had her disagreements with her other imprints; she's argued with Jayce, the strongest of them, but she also knows how easy it is to be swayed. This is the crossroad. To step into Silco's web willingly is foolish and she will only ensnare herself in his barbs if she isn't careful. To turn away will destroy any hope of maintaining the rickety bridge they'd begun to build as allies.
Mel glances back into the dark of the house, where Jayce and Viktor are either working or sleeping at this hour. They've given enough to try to ensure the safety of this world and the people around them. She has to do this on her own, no matter the consequence. ]
You accused me of not looking. You accused me of not listening. You call me malicious and cruel, and none of it is wrong. [ She is not a wolf but a monster wrapped in golden silk, where her mother is swathed in the blood of battle.
But she wants to prove she can do better. If doing the right thing, the truly right thing, is to make an enemy of Silco...then it is a price she will pay alone. ] I do not make promises before I understand the details. You're a businessman; you know it's a fool's agreement to do otherwise. But I will look if you will let me. I will do what I should have done before. We do not need to tread the same paths forever and ever, Silco.
[ In the end, she is not of Piltover. It makes it worse, she knows, but perhaps even that small difference can help bridge the gap. He won't be able to divorce her entirely from what she's done and who she has worked with, but even something so small can plant a seed. She gave him this option before and he refused it. She thought to let it go, let him hang himself by his own noose if he steps out of line. But now, whether it's the imprint or because she's felt that glimmer of hurt between them, she wants to offer it again. She'll keep trying, fruitless though it may be. ]
Perhaps when this is done, I will tell you a secret. You won't ever trust or believe it but it's important for you to know the truth all the same.
Edited (sorry, I'm having post-send clarity) 2025-10-03 12:30 (UTC)
You're crafty enough to understand the truth of things. That for this to be different, it requires difficult truths, and to accept that which is not always palatable.
[ Him. He points out the maliciousness, because there are two villains in Silco's story โ but he knows there are truly 3. He knows who he is. He knows what he has done. He became the monster because that was the only option. To become the bigger, meaner monster. To be the one that would destroy everything in its wake, because the alternative was untenable. Unthinkable.
He is the third villain in this tale. ]
If you can accept that which is not palatable, then come to [ location. ] We will see if you are able to accept the necessary wrongs, to handle the same maliciousness and cruelty that I am used to in another world.
[ To go there, to go to him, would be foolish. It may not be a trap in name but it is one in design. What she will see will ensnare her one way or another: it will either sway her to him or it will expose she is not ready to change, and Silco will win whatever game he's playing either way. Too much will be at stake. And Mel feels the imprint like a singular thread, weak but visible, struck like an instrumental string and vibrating, calling, waiting. She has enough imprints to know what it means, what it could lead to.
She casts a glance back into the house, considering once more. Jayce and Viktor can't be involved, not when Jayce has only just awakened and not when their experiments seem untenable. No, she has to do this on her own...with a single caveat. Someone else needs to know to contact her in a few hours, should anything go awry.
To Silco, her reply is short. ]
I'll be there shortly.
[ Alone, discreet. She leaves a note for Jayce and Viktor: I've gone out but I'll be back in a few hours. And then, dressed well enough to hide her arms and claws and most of her markings, she slips out and heads to the address. ]
[ The location is not in East Sophia, like she would expect. It's in Water's edge, where the dock workers and laborers frequent. Where the salty air of the sea mingles with the scent of catches and seaweed, and where everything seems to be both a touch cooler and wetter. The breeze filters in, and the place she is at is...
Almost nothing. A factory on one side, a line of shops on the other, and a boarded-up entrance with a "NO ENTRY" sign. If she's done any research on the city, this would be about where Karteria had once been working on establishing a transit tunnel.
It's starting to get dark, and there are few people on the street. In the slightest alcove of shadow, with the brush of cigar smoke, Mel will see it. A pinprick of orange in the near-dark. He's waiting for her. Alone.
He feels it too, that tug of a thread. It makes him want to make her understand. For her to see this. See what he is doing and know and recognize it for what it is.
He also knows it can go the other way. He must remain steadfast. ]
[ She's been this way before. Not this specific path but has wound her way through this series of steps. It's ironic: this particular bend, this side street, this alcove, all missing her attention until the moment Silco's drawn attention to it. And though the marker brings her to the street itself, the thread of the imprint is what directs her attention a singular moment before the smell of the cigar confirms Silco's presence.
There are so few people here, none of them Augmented. If something happens to her, nearly no one will know.
But she steps towards him anyway and does not announce herself. Does not waste his time by affirming what she's already said. Her gaze sweeps around only briefly, confirming no one else is waiting. Her tail feathers, lined with gold, are still for the moment. In the dark, her eyes find his. Mel nods.
[ Silco is glamored, as always. He looks like he could have stepped straight out of Zaun. Down to his clothing, which when he first arrived showed the evidence of patched holes โ the same places where he had been bleeding before โ now it's unmarred, like a fresh outfit. Like it came straight from the tailor. He still looks untouched, but Mel's sight will see it clear, the edges. The way it simmers like she can see that it's fake.
Silco keeps himself together, lying because it is easy and normal, because it's the only thing he has. He looks like he has not even been touched by his second soul.
His head nods, toward the street. ]
Walk with me. I assume you have already walked East Sophia before? I will not repeat our steps.
[ The boarded door is not boarded.
It's all fake, a ruse. It's a door, and he opens it. They are going down, it seems. ]
We'll be going to Gloria, instead.
[ From Waters Edge to Gloria โ underground, it seems. ]
[ With the imprint in play, it's easier to recognize the glamor for what it is. But it's her sight that takes the edges off, sees past it ever so slowly. It's not enough for her to get the full shape of yet, not unless she wants to risk yet another migraine for her troubles, but she knows there's something beyond. She glimpsed it in the alley.
Silco has been changed. He'll deny it because the core of him, the man from Zaun, hasn't shifted an iota. He will think himself indomitable, unwavering, and they will both know it is true and untrue.
The door opens. She blinks, realizing it's a ruse. And she's walked past it so many times. Mel follows Silco through the door and does not speak again until it's closed and the stairwell is plunged into brief darkness but for the light far, far ahead, below. ]
How far do these tunnels go?
[ She'd heard about an abandoned project. It hadn't seemed necessary to follow up. But if it stretches that far then surely there are more. ]
[ It's not fully dark in the stairwell, as Silco starts to step down each step, his shoulders hunched slightly as he does so. The flickering of lights and the hums of soft generators are an indication of that. Once they reach the bottom, there are a few deviations along the way, but they aren't lit and haven't been strung up with the rest of the lights.
Silco's head tips slightly, to give her another sight of that blackened, orange eye. ]
Far enough to get to Gloria. And elsewhere... if you don't mind traipsing amongst the filth.
[ Not terribly specific, but Mel will get a sense that Silco has been careful. The imprint lets them feel... something of one another, but Mel knows Silco's organization by now enough to know that this will be bigger than he will ever admit. That's the way of things. The way the man operates.
An architecture, a scaffolding, an entire plan that spreads out like a web's arms, crawling outward from one central point, each strand one he can pluck at should he need to. The drugs weren't the most dangerous part of Zaun's efforts โ Silco had always been the asp waiting at the bottom of the well, ready to strike. ]
They abandoned this, you know. Any deeper, and we would be exposed to radiation.
[ The further they go, the finer the tile goes. Mel will see more signs of work. Posts that are unmanned at the moment with quickly-erected gates, supplies at the entrances to tunnels, streaks of dirt from workboots moving in and out. This place is normally a hum of activity. ]
[ It takes so much of her own effort to push her magic down, stow it away. She forgets, sometimes, how it springs to life for her own protection. She does not need to be the lantern in the dark. Instead, she lets the dark overtake her briefly until they step out into the dim lights of the underground. There's an irony to it, to pass through shadow to find something deeper below, an echo of Zaun itself: a city forgotten is still a place of life, a place to be loved, if only one could see past the shroud of their subjectivity.
Never again. She cannot let it happen again.
Mel follows. Jayce has made shoes for her to allow her to seem more normal when she can be, but her footsteps are only slightly louder than his own โ his which are silent, wraith-like. ]
The Katalyth beneath the city? Is it through mining?
[ If so, then the echoes of Piltover and Zaun run deeper than she realizes. She knew there was radiation but how it came to be... That part she didn't pursue. Her eyes scan anything and everything, taking it all it, letting it wash over her. Silco does not narrate; he allows what's been left behind to tell the story. He has been hard at work...and he has a significant bit of help. Recent, organized, efficient. And if it extends even further...
His operation is far larger than she knew. Something cold settles in her stomach at the thought. ]
[ He hasn't had time to look much, more focused on making something from nothing than working on the mysteries of what plagues this world. There are others looking into these things, and perhaps they'll find out, while Silco keeps moving deeper, deeper into the depths. He aims to start digging, recreate the project, and turn this into truly something that spans beneath Karteria itself, but so far, it's only a tunnel that he's had Bruno work to connect.
And some minor connections to the sewers, to allow them to work in secret. ]
But why would they? Nobody knows we're here, and the authorities hardly have any interest in the fortunes of the lower-classes here, now do they?
[ He steps further in. The deeper they go, the more light there is, the better it looks. The work and expansions are one thing, but the tile is starting to look fine, like it's decorative. The lights are diffused by glass, held by darkly brushed bronze, and finally, Mel witnesses her first local.
A brusque man, standing at a door. He looks at Silco and nods, and then looks to Mel. She's with he boss, so she won't get any pushback, but he does offer her a curious look as they pass. The first security gate, she'll realize, as they pass into a longer, wider tunnel.
It's large enough to drive a small cart, really. A lot of people could fit down here in a pinch, though as they move deeper, she'll notice... more movement. More locals. None of them look well off, but they at least look clothed, fed, and healthy. Which is a lot better than topside. ]
When I was young, I wanted for so much, councilor. A warm bed and food were creature comforts that were elusive on a bad week, and a luxury on a good week. That makes one hungry in a way that I do not think you could understand.
These people here are the same. They are hungry to change their fortunes.
[ She'll realize that they are working down here. Hauling boxes, moving neatly packed products. Runners occasionally jog in to make a pickup of pouches that carry illicit substances and drugs to cope alike. Money exchanges. There's security. Large boxes are stacked up to move to warehouses, ready to go. ]
There was no work, you know. Half of them spent their days looking for something.
[ Mel follows, head straight but her gaze looking everywhere. She drinks it all in and attempts to do so without judgment, without preemptive uncertainty, but the longer this goes, the deeper they wander, the more people she sees... The trepidation begins to build and build and build. Silco has an entire operation; these aren't a dozen of Augmented he's pulled under his wing, these are dozens and dozens of Karterians who are doing what he wants.
These are people who believe whatever it is he's telling them. And based on what he tells her in full view of these people who flit to and fro, she has a good idea what that message is. The worst part, she supposes, is that she cannot refute it. Not any longer.
Periodically, she slows for a few moments as they walk, finally turning her head to survey. Suspicion is absent in her gaze, replaced only by curiosity, a deep scrutiny in order to understand. Mel Medarda has only ever needed to be hungry for a mother's love and acceptance. The people here have known true hunger in every sense: for freedom, for autonomy, for food, for safety, for wellness. Long had she heard of the fissures in Zaun, the sickness that the Grey once caused. It was easy to believe that once the fans were installed, that would be it. But it's never so easy. And she'd been a fool to believe so: a fool in a gilded cage of her own making, in limiting beliefs. ]
Opportunities continue to dwindle. Without being able to go beyond the barrier, so many of their jobs have been lost.
[ Woodcutters, farmers (though some remain in limited capacity), researchers, hunters. Now they rely on the Augmented in their mercy, and there is only so much they can do. ]
[ He says it plain. Silco does not balk from these types of truths. He has a different blind spot, one that runs deeper, and laces through him. His ability to self-reflect is a pitch space in the edge of his vision, where he does not look, but this? He can confront this truth head on. ]
Or more accurately, those who Brought us. Who create machines to take away what few jobs exist here. Who keep their medications priced high, their food out of reach, who call them lesser for simply the place of their birth.
[ He says this all in plain view. It is a routine speech, the people recognize it, but they still lift their heads. Some even nod, before going back to work.
The space is open, and wide. Up in a stairway area, a balcony, there is a desk, and a manager's office behind it. Silco does not take her there. He walks, pontificates, he stops over a dark Stain on the ground. Black, like dried blood. Someone died here. ]
Too few are willing to invest in what they need. We are all working together to build something For them.
[ Silco is no altruist. He is not here to make something for them. Mel can see it for what it is here, a staging ground. A test. A self-serving attempt to see what will work โ if it will work. If that works in their favor, all the better. The intended byproduct, but two things can be true: this could improve their lives and he is testing to see what will work for Zaun. ]
[ This is the echo of Zaun. She hears it like the ringing of steel, the chugging of machinery, the clanking of a hammer on an anvil. Her gaze roams around as people nod and look up. They acknowledge Silco as a man who understands their plight. As he'd said many months ago: he alone reached out his hand to these people. He walked in the mire to them and stained his boots ever so briefly to show he was one of them and garnered their loyalty with the most important thing he could offer.
He acted. He followed through.
It's impressive. It's something's she's (begrudgingly) admired about Silco's ways: he can inspire belief and confidence in him, he can rally people to a thought. Of course there's enough to be frightened about with that. Old thoughts and habits come up quickly, like slipping on an old glove. Silco won't need much to twist these people to do as he says. He doesn't even need to lie, only to embellish, and he barely needs to do that. Jobs have been taken, food has been scarce. The people at the top do not care for those at the bottom, those of whom the backbone of the city rests.
What he succeeds at here will be replicated back home, should he ever reach that point. And here they are again, as they were that first day, where she is acutely aware of how she is responsible for the steps Silco takes. When she returns, if he returns, then his fate is entwined with her own. She will be the mage walking beside the man who orchestrated the murder of the Council. Can she live with that?
(The fox says there can always be another way. The wolf says there is a place in his throat for all of the teeth she does not show.) ]
And when the upper class, the government, all of those people who stand atop these people... When they push back against you, what will you do?
[ The blood by her feet has long dried but she sees the head of a young girl and a splatter of blood. ]
How will you protect what is important to those you've rallied?
This is not something for me. I'm one man. It's what we will do. What strength we can gather, what we can do together? I've never been a fighter, councilor. [ He gestures at himself. He uses the word councilor pointedly, to remind her of her position, even as she is down here in the mire.
She is a tourist. He is not. ]
We aim to have the right avenues in place to ensure that we will remain unseen until necessary. We will have the strength we require, when the time comes.
[ A twitch of his lips. ]
People like the upper class, the government, when do they look down this way? When do they push back?
It's when we stop making everything function. It's when we make a nuisance of ourselves. We do not aim to do so, until the time is right.
[ She doesn't want to believe it. Silco speaks of it like it's community but she sees it for what it is: it's an army, not quite to the point of fanaticism but certainly aching for justice, for quality of life. It's desperation, and desperation drives men to do terrible things if they aren't helped. Silco's giving them hope; she can't deny that, nor can she deny that it seems to be helping, if not working. But people are never content with waiting and words.
Silco wants action. 'Nuisance' is a nice, gentle word. Not working, perhaps. Peaceful protesting. Interrupting all services. And yet, she doesn't think that's where all of this will land. Not with him.
Although, she can't say it wouldn't be deserved. ]
They'll look down when all of their luxuries are taken from them, when basic services disappear. There are more of the people in the lower and middle classes than in the upper echelons or the government, but they have more power, and more capable of putting down uprisings.
[ And that's how escalation starts. Violence. Is Silco actually invested in the outcome or is he simply fine with stacking however many obstacles he can into a ladder to climb out of this world? ]
The government's kept themselves tucked away and out of sight. I'm curious who they are, what connections they have.
[ Light, and musing. It's a barb that's tossed automatically, but without so much of the heat in his voice. A reminder that they have seen this before, and that hit is something that they will have to circumvent in their own way. ]
You are correct, of course. We all know what it is to do without basics. [ A few nodding heads. Silco says this for Mel, yes, but also for his people here. They are not Zaunites. They are not his people, but they are the closest one can find in this space. They are the ones that he can understand the most, of all the people here.
If he had to pick a group of people to tie his fate to, it would be them. That much is clear.
He intends to use them, but... well. If he leaves a mark on this world, he wants it to be their success. If possible. They are expendable, but not without other possibilities taken first. ]
We do. I wonder what it will be, for them to lose it. What will happen? What they will do, if they lose it?
We know what it is, to be threatened into keeping working โ even when there isn't enough work to go around. Even if there isn't enough food to go around. Or shelter.
[ A tight smile. ]
Don't worry, councilor. We intend to do this right. You are aware that I had not jumped wildly into such things where we are from.
[ A few glances at Mel, from the workers, as they go about their business. ] I know the merit in patience.
I think what you are discussing will bring about the collapse of a long held system.
[ Her tone is carefully neutral, but she doesn't seem...opposed to it as she might be. Something is brewing between the government, the upper class, and Patho-Gen. What it is, she isn't certain, though she can take a very good guess. Likely that in exchange for funding to Patho-Gen, something is being given back to the upper crust and those in power. She can assume that, beyond the maintenance of their quality of life, it's access to either cutting edge healthcare against the arcane radiation, food, or something else. Or all of it. So the destruction of one piece of that is the equivalent to taking a peg out of a three-toed stool.
It will simply fall apart. ]
But it would expose the relationship between the three most prolific pieces on the board: the upper class, the government, and Patho-Gen.
[ It is, perhaps, blasphemous to invoke the latter's name. They have done a great deal of good for the city in terms of the barrier, the technology, and even bringing in the saviors for the city: the Augmented. But surely people can see the intertwining of these three forces, and that to address one will either bring about retaliation or difficulty from the others.
Silco knows. She's saying it for the benefit of those present.
We intend to do this right. Ha. She wants to believe that. She wants to believe that something new can be done. And... Mel's gaze doesn't soften, perhaps, but there's a far-off quality to it, as if her eyes look upon a horizon that is millions and millions of miles away.
If this can be done correctly somehow, then Piltover and Zaun may still be saved from her mother. And if she can learn from it, then she can at least understand better building blocks for her return to Noxus, which is a foregone conclusion at this point. Silco seeks to wrest control from the powerful here and in Piltover; she seeks the same in her home. Once more, she is struck by the paralleled paths here. She wouldn't have considered it before, not when Silco had been discussed in the Council chamber. But the more that the smoke and ash have cleared away, the more she sees the lines as they stand. It is neither the same melody nor much different.
[ Soft rumbling from the individuals in the chamber. They all hear her, they understand this too. Patho-Gen was a part of the problem. Their medication was out of reach, their gifts to Karteria was out of the reach of these. He understands this. They understand this now.
They also look at Mel with curiosity and caution. The look of people who had nothing, who Silco was throwing a lifeline, and understanding that they Were supported here. In some way, in some measure.
Silco, at the center, standing over a patch of blood he'd made himself, spreads his arms. ]
Support.
[ He gestures to the people here. ]
We are only human, after all. I am one Augmented, and I refuse to simply do everything. [ For most, that would come off as arrogant, but some of the more bookish of the group nod. ] I want to build something with the people here. I want it to be insulated, should I vanish.
This is theirs, after all.
They will need augmented to defend them, they need avenues built to find them. Should we vanish. Which will be a possibility no matter the day.
They do not deserve to have this possibility snatched from them, should I, or you, vanish.
[ This is not how Silco operates, normally. This is an adjustment. A change. Another attempt. To see what works. He is a planner. He is in full control.
These are not his people, and thus his fingers do not grip as tight, as they otherwise would. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
text;
Ah yes, and what an excellent time to share with others that you have imprinted with a "nasty" individual, hm?
You can decry the process all you like. I would agree. I do not trust these imprints, and if I could remove them, I would.
Perhaps next time if you wish to complain, you should keep your conversations limited, to prevent patho-gen from watching. And others. I don't make a habit of sharing details. I would suggest you do the same.
no subject
Mel sighs. ]
You're correct in that I should have handled it better. I am, however, still trying to find information. You want out of this as much as I do, as much as anyone else would be.
[ In reality, the fault is with neither of them. In an ideal situation, it wouldn't have happened to begin with, and they wouldn't be having this conversation. Would she enjoy hearing anyone, disliked or not, speaking such things about her? ]
This situation makes all of us vulnerable and rife for use. [ Open to be used, something he likely despises as much as she. ] That isn't my intention, whether you believe it or not.
no subject
There was never any other avenue.
They have imprinted. He needs to remove it. Medarda will only allow "Working" with him as long as it is convenient for her plans. (He would do the same.) He knows discarding is expected.
It's easier, isn't it, if one is the enemy. She may not realize it, but she has reminded him of a fact that the imprint seeks to soften. The line in the sand. ]
I am aware of what it does. It is why I have avoided it for the most part. The notable exceptions proving my caution correct. If we can remove it, then we should discover that sooner, rather than later.
After all, I can imagine it would be distasteful, to remain longer than necessary, wouldn't it? I certainly agree.
[ A barb, aiming to hurt. It feels more like a wounded animal lashing out. ]
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It's uncanny that it resembles so much of herself. Of the thorns around the pieces of her that her mother tried to mold. ]
I will continue to look into it. If and when an alternative is found, I'll be certain that you are made aware so you can cut the chain yourself.
You may not believe me, Silco, but I do not find the imprint with you any more distasteful than any other I may have. The tether is just that: a tether meant to tie one down, and it chafes whether it's from you or someone else. You are as dangerous as I am and far less so than our captors. Still, I would much prefer to work with you than against you.
I've no desire to repeat the sins of decades. We've both seen where it puts us.
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[ Is this a mirror? Truly? ]
I was forced to live it. Remember that. It does you no good to be conciliatory, we fissure folk have no use for it. What we respect is action.
[ What else did they have? Promises and words were worthless. They were painfully useless.
He hated them. Words like that. Compassion. Topsiders always said things. "Poor Trenchers" while they refused to even give them a seat at the table. ]
Councilor, I don't want these imprints no matter who they come from. I know the price of trust. I know what it will cost me personally. It forces us together, and it forces us to seek one another out. I can already feel it. This thing makes you want to listen to me, because we are communicating. I feel it too, it wants to soften my approach, think about how pointing out that you say nasty in one communication, and "not any more distasteful" in another might upset you.
If you wish to work with me, then perhaps you should try. Are you even aware of my work? How far we already come? Or is it rumors and conjecture that inform you still?
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[ It isn't conciliatory. It is fact, one she has sat with for months now, a wound rubbed raw again and again. She doesn't try to close it these days; instead, she carries it, and uses it as an excuse to keep pushing people away. Hubert's gone ahead to stab into it repeatedly for all that he has no idea who and what she is.
But she knows. And Silco won't allow her to forget it. ]
I am still myself. The imprint may impose upon me but it does not control me, nor does it control you. We are better than its whims. I am listening to you as I have since my arrival here. Your perspective has been necessary for me, whether you believe it or not.
[ It isn't much but it's a start. ]
I am not aware of your work. [ Beyond what Takasugi's told her. ] You haven't told me. So tell me now.
Or show me.
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[ It's different, for him. Negligent does not hold the weight of intent, and it was purposeful, to him. Then again, how could it not be? ]
You want to see it, do you? Are you prepared to? To understand what it is I am doing?
You will not stop me, once you see it. You understand that, correct? To work against me is to make an enemy of me.
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You are not inspiring confidence in me that this time will be different, Silco.
[ To work against him will make an enemy of him. She's had her disagreements with her other imprints; she's argued with Jayce, the strongest of them, but she also knows how easy it is to be swayed. This is the crossroad. To step into Silco's web willingly is foolish and she will only ensnare herself in his barbs if she isn't careful. To turn away will destroy any hope of maintaining the rickety bridge they'd begun to build as allies.
Mel glances back into the dark of the house, where Jayce and Viktor are either working or sleeping at this hour. They've given enough to try to ensure the safety of this world and the people around them. She has to do this on her own, no matter the consequence. ]
You accused me of not looking. You accused me of not listening. You call me malicious and cruel, and none of it is wrong. [ She is not a wolf but a monster wrapped in golden silk, where her mother is swathed in the blood of battle.
But she wants to prove she can do better. If doing the right thing, the truly right thing, is to make an enemy of Silco...then it is a price she will pay alone. ] I do not make promises before I understand the details. You're a businessman; you know it's a fool's agreement to do otherwise. But I will look if you will let me. I will do what I should have done before. We do not need to tread the same paths forever and ever, Silco.
[ In the end, she is not of Piltover. It makes it worse, she knows, but perhaps even that small difference can help bridge the gap. He won't be able to divorce her entirely from what she's done and who she has worked with, but even something so small can plant a seed. She gave him this option before and he refused it. She thought to let it go, let him hang himself by his own noose if he steps out of line. But now, whether it's the imprint or because she's felt that glimmer of hurt between them, she wants to offer it again. She'll keep trying, fruitless though it may be. ]
Perhaps when this is done, I will tell you a secret. You won't ever trust or believe it but it's important for you to know the truth all the same.
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[ Him. He points out the maliciousness, because there are two villains in Silco's story โ but he knows there are truly 3. He knows who he is. He knows what he has done. He became the monster because that was the only option. To become the bigger, meaner monster. To be the one that would destroy everything in its wake, because the alternative was untenable. Unthinkable.
He is the third villain in this tale. ]
If you can accept that which is not palatable, then come to [ location. ] We will see if you are able to accept the necessary wrongs, to handle the same maliciousness and cruelty that I am used to in another world.
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She casts a glance back into the house, considering once more. Jayce and Viktor can't be involved, not when Jayce has only just awakened and not when their experiments seem untenable. No, she has to do this on her own...with a single caveat. Someone else needs to know to contact her in a few hours, should anything go awry.
To Silco, her reply is short. ]
I'll be there shortly.
[ Alone, discreet. She leaves a note for Jayce and Viktor: I've gone out but I'll be back in a few hours. And then, dressed well enough to hide her arms and claws and most of her markings, she slips out and heads to the address. ]
โ ACTION
Almost nothing. A factory on one side, a line of shops on the other, and a boarded-up entrance with a "NO ENTRY" sign. If she's done any research on the city, this would be about where Karteria had once been working on establishing a transit tunnel.
It's starting to get dark, and there are few people on the street. In the slightest alcove of shadow, with the brush of cigar smoke, Mel will see it. A pinprick of orange in the near-dark. He's waiting for her. Alone.
He feels it too, that tug of a thread. It makes him want to make her understand. For her to see this. See what he is doing and know and recognize it for what it is.
He also knows it can go the other way. He must remain steadfast. ]
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There are so few people here, none of them Augmented. If something happens to her, nearly no one will know.
But she steps towards him anyway and does not announce herself. Does not waste his time by affirming what she's already said. Her gaze sweeps around only briefly, confirming no one else is waiting. Her tail feathers, lined with gold, are still for the moment. In the dark, her eyes find his. Mel nods.
She's ready to see. ]
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Silco keeps himself together, lying because it is easy and normal, because it's the only thing he has. He looks like he has not even been touched by his second soul.
His head nods, toward the street. ]
Walk with me. I assume you have already walked East Sophia before? I will not repeat our steps.
[ The boarded door is not boarded.
It's all fake, a ruse. It's a door, and he opens it. They are going down, it seems. ]
We'll be going to Gloria, instead.
[ From Waters Edge to Gloria โ underground, it seems. ]
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Silco has been changed. He'll deny it because the core of him, the man from Zaun, hasn't shifted an iota. He will think himself indomitable, unwavering, and they will both know it is true and untrue.
The door opens. She blinks, realizing it's a ruse. And she's walked past it so many times. Mel follows Silco through the door and does not speak again until it's closed and the stairwell is plunged into brief darkness but for the light far, far ahead, below. ]
How far do these tunnels go?
[ She'd heard about an abandoned project. It hadn't seemed necessary to follow up. But if it stretches that far then surely there are more. ]
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Silco's head tips slightly, to give her another sight of that blackened, orange eye. ]
Far enough to get to Gloria. And elsewhere... if you don't mind traipsing amongst the filth.
[ Not terribly specific, but Mel will get a sense that Silco has been careful. The imprint lets them feel... something of one another, but Mel knows Silco's organization by now enough to know that this will be bigger than he will ever admit. That's the way of things. The way the man operates.
An architecture, a scaffolding, an entire plan that spreads out like a web's arms, crawling outward from one central point, each strand one he can pluck at should he need to. The drugs weren't the most dangerous part of Zaun's efforts โ Silco had always been the asp waiting at the bottom of the well, ready to strike. ]
They abandoned this, you know. Any deeper, and we would be exposed to radiation.
[ The further they go, the finer the tile goes. Mel will see more signs of work. Posts that are unmanned at the moment with quickly-erected gates, supplies at the entrances to tunnels, streaks of dirt from workboots moving in and out. This place is normally a hum of activity. ]
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Never again. She cannot let it happen again.
Mel follows. Jayce has made shoes for her to allow her to seem more normal when she can be, but her footsteps are only slightly louder than his own โ his which are silent, wraith-like. ]
The Katalyth beneath the city? Is it through mining?
[ If so, then the echoes of Piltover and Zaun run deeper than she realizes. She knew there was radiation but how it came to be... That part she didn't pursue. Her eyes scan anything and everything, taking it all it, letting it wash over her. Silco does not narrate; he allows what's been left behind to tell the story. He has been hard at work...and he has a significant bit of help. Recent, organized, efficient. And if it extends even further...
His operation is far larger than she knew. Something cold settles in her stomach at the thought. ]
No one's come chasing you and yours down here?
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[ He hasn't had time to look much, more focused on making something from nothing than working on the mysteries of what plagues this world. There are others looking into these things, and perhaps they'll find out, while Silco keeps moving deeper, deeper into the depths. He aims to start digging, recreate the project, and turn this into truly something that spans beneath Karteria itself, but so far, it's only a tunnel that he's had Bruno work to connect.
And some minor connections to the sewers, to allow them to work in secret. ]
But why would they? Nobody knows we're here, and the authorities hardly have any interest in the fortunes of the lower-classes here, now do they?
[ He steps further in. The deeper they go, the more light there is, the better it looks. The work and expansions are one thing, but the tile is starting to look fine, like it's decorative. The lights are diffused by glass, held by darkly brushed bronze, and finally, Mel witnesses her first local.
A brusque man, standing at a door. He looks at Silco and nods, and then looks to Mel. She's with he boss, so she won't get any pushback, but he does offer her a curious look as they pass. The first security gate, she'll realize, as they pass into a longer, wider tunnel.
It's large enough to drive a small cart, really. A lot of people could fit down here in a pinch, though as they move deeper, she'll notice... more movement. More locals. None of them look well off, but they at least look clothed, fed, and healthy. Which is a lot better than topside. ]
When I was young, I wanted for so much, councilor. A warm bed and food were creature comforts that were elusive on a bad week, and a luxury on a good week. That makes one hungry in a way that I do not think you could understand.
These people here are the same. They are hungry to change their fortunes.
[ She'll realize that they are working down here. Hauling boxes, moving neatly packed products. Runners occasionally jog in to make a pickup of pouches that carry illicit substances and drugs to cope alike. Money exchanges. There's security. Large boxes are stacked up to move to warehouses, ready to go. ]
There was no work, you know. Half of them spent their days looking for something.
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These are people who believe whatever it is he's telling them. And based on what he tells her in full view of these people who flit to and fro, she has a good idea what that message is. The worst part, she supposes, is that she cannot refute it. Not any longer.
Periodically, she slows for a few moments as they walk, finally turning her head to survey. Suspicion is absent in her gaze, replaced only by curiosity, a deep scrutiny in order to understand. Mel Medarda has only ever needed to be hungry for a mother's love and acceptance. The people here have known true hunger in every sense: for freedom, for autonomy, for food, for safety, for wellness. Long had she heard of the fissures in Zaun, the sickness that the Grey once caused. It was easy to believe that once the fans were installed, that would be it. But it's never so easy. And she'd been a fool to believe so: a fool in a gilded cage of her own making, in limiting beliefs. ]
Opportunities continue to dwindle. Without being able to go beyond the barrier, so many of their jobs have been lost.
[ Woodcutters, farmers (though some remain in limited capacity), researchers, hunters. Now they rely on the Augmented in their mercy, and there is only so much they can do. ]
They have every reason to resent us.
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[ He says it plain. Silco does not balk from these types of truths. He has a different blind spot, one that runs deeper, and laces through him. His ability to self-reflect is a pitch space in the edge of his vision, where he does not look, but this? He can confront this truth head on. ]
Or more accurately, those who Brought us. Who create machines to take away what few jobs exist here. Who keep their medications priced high, their food out of reach, who call them lesser for simply the place of their birth.
[ He says this all in plain view. It is a routine speech, the people recognize it, but they still lift their heads. Some even nod, before going back to work.
The space is open, and wide. Up in a stairway area, a balcony, there is a desk, and a manager's office behind it. Silco does not take her there. He walks, pontificates, he stops over a dark Stain on the ground. Black, like dried blood. Someone died here. ]
Too few are willing to invest in what they need. We are all working together to build something For them.
[ Silco is no altruist. He is not here to make something for them. Mel can see it for what it is here, a staging ground. A test. A self-serving attempt to see what will work โ if it will work. If that works in their favor, all the better. The intended byproduct, but two things can be true: this could improve their lives and he is testing to see what will work for Zaun. ]
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He acted. He followed through.
It's impressive. It's something's she's (begrudgingly) admired about Silco's ways: he can inspire belief and confidence in him, he can rally people to a thought. Of course there's enough to be frightened about with that. Old thoughts and habits come up quickly, like slipping on an old glove. Silco won't need much to twist these people to do as he says. He doesn't even need to lie, only to embellish, and he barely needs to do that. Jobs have been taken, food has been scarce. The people at the top do not care for those at the bottom, those of whom the backbone of the city rests.
What he succeeds at here will be replicated back home, should he ever reach that point. And here they are again, as they were that first day, where she is acutely aware of how she is responsible for the steps Silco takes. When she returns, if he returns, then his fate is entwined with her own. She will be the mage walking beside the man who orchestrated the murder of the Council. Can she live with that?
(The fox says there can always be another way. The wolf says there is a place in his throat for all of the teeth she does not show.) ]
And when the upper class, the government, all of those people who stand atop these people... When they push back against you, what will you do?
[ The blood by her feet has long dried but she sees the head of a young girl and a splatter of blood. ]
How will you protect what is important to those you've rallied?
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[ Silco shakes his head. ]
This is not something for me. I'm one man. It's what we will do. What strength we can gather, what we can do together? I've never been a fighter, councilor. [ He gestures at himself. He uses the word councilor pointedly, to remind her of her position, even as she is down here in the mire.
She is a tourist. He is not. ]
We aim to have the right avenues in place to ensure that we will remain unseen until necessary. We will have the strength we require, when the time comes.
[ A twitch of his lips. ]
People like the upper class, the government, when do they look down this way? When do they push back?
It's when we stop making everything function. It's when we make a nuisance of ourselves. We do not aim to do so, until the time is right.
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Silco wants action. 'Nuisance' is a nice, gentle word. Not working, perhaps. Peaceful protesting. Interrupting all services. And yet, she doesn't think that's where all of this will land. Not with him.
Although, she can't say it wouldn't be deserved. ]
They'll look down when all of their luxuries are taken from them, when basic services disappear. There are more of the people in the lower and middle classes than in the upper echelons or the government, but they have more power, and more capable of putting down uprisings.
[ And that's how escalation starts. Violence. Is Silco actually invested in the outcome or is he simply fine with stacking however many obstacles he can into a ladder to climb out of this world? ]
The government's kept themselves tucked away and out of sight. I'm curious who they are, what connections they have.
[ And she's willing to go looking. ]
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[ Light, and musing. It's a barb that's tossed automatically, but without so much of the heat in his voice. A reminder that they have seen this before, and that hit is something that they will have to circumvent in their own way. ]
You are correct, of course. We all know what it is to do without basics. [ A few nodding heads. Silco says this for Mel, yes, but also for his people here. They are not Zaunites. They are not his people, but they are the closest one can find in this space. They are the ones that he can understand the most, of all the people here.
If he had to pick a group of people to tie his fate to, it would be them. That much is clear.
He intends to use them, but... well. If he leaves a mark on this world, he wants it to be their success. If possible. They are expendable, but not without other possibilities taken first. ]
We do. I wonder what it will be, for them to lose it. What will happen? What they will do, if they lose it?
We know what it is, to be threatened into keeping working โ even when there isn't enough work to go around. Even if there isn't enough food to go around. Or shelter.
[ A tight smile. ]
Don't worry, councilor. We intend to do this right. You are aware that I had not jumped wildly into such things where we are from.
[ A few glances at Mel, from the workers, as they go about their business. ] I know the merit in patience.
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[ Her tone is carefully neutral, but she doesn't seem...opposed to it as she might be. Something is brewing between the government, the upper class, and Patho-Gen. What it is, she isn't certain, though she can take a very good guess. Likely that in exchange for funding to Patho-Gen, something is being given back to the upper crust and those in power. She can assume that, beyond the maintenance of their quality of life, it's access to either cutting edge healthcare against the arcane radiation, food, or something else. Or all of it. So the destruction of one piece of that is the equivalent to taking a peg out of a three-toed stool.
It will simply fall apart. ]
But it would expose the relationship between the three most prolific pieces on the board: the upper class, the government, and Patho-Gen.
[ It is, perhaps, blasphemous to invoke the latter's name. They have done a great deal of good for the city in terms of the barrier, the technology, and even bringing in the saviors for the city: the Augmented. But surely people can see the intertwining of these three forces, and that to address one will either bring about retaliation or difficulty from the others.
Silco knows. She's saying it for the benefit of those present.
We intend to do this right. Ha. She wants to believe that. She wants to believe that something new can be done. And... Mel's gaze doesn't soften, perhaps, but there's a far-off quality to it, as if her eyes look upon a horizon that is millions and millions of miles away.
If this can be done correctly somehow, then Piltover and Zaun may still be saved from her mother. And if she can learn from it, then she can at least understand better building blocks for her return to Noxus, which is a foregone conclusion at this point. Silco seeks to wrest control from the powerful here and in Piltover; she seeks the same in her home. Once more, she is struck by the paralleled paths here. She wouldn't have considered it before, not when Silco had been discussed in the Council chamber. But the more that the smoke and ash have cleared away, the more she sees the lines as they stand. It is neither the same melody nor much different.
She takes a breath. And then: ]
What do you need for this?
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They also look at Mel with curiosity and caution. The look of people who had nothing, who Silco was throwing a lifeline, and understanding that they Were supported here. In some way, in some measure.
Silco, at the center, standing over a patch of blood he'd made himself, spreads his arms. ]
Support.
[ He gestures to the people here. ]
We are only human, after all. I am one Augmented, and I refuse to simply do everything. [ For most, that would come off as arrogant, but some of the more bookish of the group nod. ] I want to build something with the people here. I want it to be insulated, should I vanish.
This is theirs, after all.
They will need augmented to defend them, they need avenues built to find them. Should we vanish. Which will be a possibility no matter the day.
They do not deserve to have this possibility snatched from them, should I, or you, vanish.
[ This is not how Silco operates, normally. This is an adjustment. A change. Another attempt. To see what works. He is a planner. He is in full control.
These are not his people, and thus his fingers do not grip as tight, as they otherwise would. ]
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