The Sheriff of Piltover always has time to check her in-tray, though delays due to policework are part of her daily beat. League of Legends RP/askblog for Caitlyn, Sheriff of Piltover. Contains worldbuilding, voice acting and art. #NotYourPiltover
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Vi rests her chin on her hands and watches Caitlyn. Caitlyn is making her usual second cup of tea for the morning, and everything is normal about it. But now and then Caitlyn stops, and breathes, perhaps puts a hand to her midriff or glances down at herself as though to remind herself that she is still herself, even now. Even like this.
Vi doesn't say a word. She just watches, and smiles to herself. Gods, she loves this woman. It's been a long time that she's loved this woman, and now they're married and projecting their futures in a unified direction together. Retirement's been tricky, because of course Cupcake can't sit still for a moment, and then there was that whole thing last month... anyway. Stuff's going to happen, that's how it is, that's how it always is, for them. But Vi's going to be there, 100%, every step of the way.
Caitlyn presses a hand to her chest, and inhales. The shape of her doesn't change much under the shirt she's wearing, not anymore. Vi smiles a little wider, so proud of her, so in love with her, so happy for her.
It's at that moment that Caitlyn happens to glance over. Vi has been staring, neglecting her cereal and letting the coffee in the 'don't talk to me until I've had at least three coffees' mug go cold. The former-sheriff flushes slightly, and drops her hand.
"It's going to take some time getting used to it," Caitlyn says, self-conscious. She pours hot water into the 'team mom' mug she got for Snowdown.
Vi lets her grin soften to just a smile. "Take your time, Cupcake. I'll be waiting, and walking with you all the way."
Caitlyn tucks a strand of white hair behind her ear. "I would have thought you'd put up more of a fight, honestly."
"Hey," Vi protests gently, "Why?"
The former-sheriff's eyebrows arch slightly.
"Yes," Vi says, patiently, "I love boobs. I love your boobs most of all. But if you wanted your body to be a better fit for you, why would I be mad?" She smiles again. "I love when you're happy, babe."
"Hm." Caitlyn turns back to her tea, selecting the blend and hiding her face.
Nearly forty years of corsetry and tailoring and binding and turning herself all but inside out to meet the needs and expectations of fashion, society, politics, even the fucking League, and Caitlyn had finally been able to consider that maybe, just maybe, she could be more comfortable with a surgery that allowed her to maintain her dignity and womanhood without making her a target. From all her arguments against the idea, you'd think she was being forced to cede to Noxus or something. But now here she was, a few cup-sizes smaller, standing and moving and sleeping and breathing more comfortably than she had in years, and every moment relaxing and knowing she was still powerful, still gorgeous, and still herself. She still wears the corsets, still wears the tailored clothes, but now they fit her, properly, and don't leave her with red lines or (the rare) bruises.
Vi gets to her feet and embraces her wife from behind. "Sides," she murmurs, resting her chin against Caitlyn's temple, "Now I can get closer to your heart."
"Pervert," Caitlyn says quietly, but fondly.
Vi chuckles, and buries her face in the woman's white hair. They inhale and exhale together, and for a moment. A stillness, a calmness, a moment where they can just be with each other and not think about anything else. Comfortable, in love, in company, in their future they're building and the plans they're making.
"Also," Vi adds, cheerfully, "Now mine are bigger. I win at last."
Jayce doesn't look up from his hexphone at first. It's been a while, but sometimes people still yell in delighted surprise to see him; celebrity never dies, even if it gets phased out by the next generation, and it's water off his back anyway. And yet, when he hears startled laughter along with the yell, he looks up from the group chat with both brows raised. He knows that laugh. It's a nice sound, a rare sound.
Caitlyn's laugh.
In front of the fountain, Caitlyn is currently six feet in the air, seated with ramrod-straight spine on the shoulder of a very handsome man. She's laughing, still, but making noises along the lines of 'you can set me down now'. The appeal is being made to - Jayce blinks for a moment, dazzled - Taric du Manteau, the demigod who climbed the mountain. Taric's armour, studded with gemstones, gleams in the winter sunlight.
"I told you!" Vi is pointing and laughing at Caitlyn.
"Yes, yes, very good, now please put me down now, Taric?"
"Not yet, me next! Don't move!"
Taric looks at Vi in amusement, keeping Caitlyn balanced on his pauldron carefully, one hand steadying her legs (and she doesn't even flinch about it). "Beg pardon?"
"You got another shoulder," the former Enforcer nods. "But, like, me at the same time as Cupcake."
Now Caitlyn looks startled. "Vi, gracious, don't be--"
And Taric blinks, speaking at the same time, "Wouldn't it be best if I put--"
"I. Want. Uppies." There's few who can make such a sentence sound intimidating. Vi succeeds. Then she adds, with a challenging smirk, "What, you can't carry both of Piltover's Finest at the same time, pretty boy?"
The man is extremely pretty. And, it seems, not immune to a challenge. "Alright." He chuckles, and hunkers a bit to brace himself and Caitlyn. "Other shoulder for you, dearest tourmaline."
"Taric!" Caitlyn is trying to exert her authority, but she's not the sheriff anymore. "Oh gods preserve me..."
"He's not gonna drop you, Cupcake."
"I am certainly not going to drop you, I swear!"
Jayce wants to see how this pans out. But there's a bigger issue. A fourth figure has loped forward from the fountain and planted himself directly in front of Jayce. A multi-lensed mask peers out from a shawl of purple and black, an obscured face for an unobscured identity.
"Ey, little man!" Jax looms even as he leans forward. "Long time no see!"
"Uh!" Jayce blinks, startled. "Yeah! Hi!" He flinches a little as the Champion slams down his staff - one of Piltover's own star-rods, stolen well over three decades ago - for balance. Jayce remembers being beaten to death by that thing more than once (hm, maybe he still needs to see a therapist about the whole 'death circus' thing after all. You'd think ten-ish years would be enough time to get over it. But. Well. Death circus.)
"You're lookin' good, Jayce-my-man." Jax squats down on his haunches, so he's more eye to eye with the Piltovian. His bare purple didactyl feet don't seem affected by the snow on the cobbles at the slightest. Behind the mask, he sounds like he's grinning. "What you been up to since the Institute collapsed?"
"Oh, well..." Jayce waggles his phone, then decides to put it away. Rude to keep holding it in the middle of conversation. "Started my own company, hired some bright minds, kept working to keep Piltover moving towards the future!" He feels a slight pang in his gut, like he's expecting a governess to smack his hand with a ruler for lying. But that's what he's been doing! ... mostly.
"Oh, nice!" Jax, at least, sounds enthusiastic. "You're a proper businessman, huh?"
"Well... yeah! Yeah, I guess so!" Jayce puts on his most winningest smile, the one that used to be on all the billboards and movie posters. 'Used to', right, the whole thing about the next generation and all that... But he's still been busy!
Jax gestures with his free hand to the lamp-post/staff he's holding, as well as to the star-rods currently lining the streets. "Is it you who's been doin' all the changes to the city and infrastructure? I dig the new designs, though they don't quite look as sturdy as this one, hah!"
"Uh, well, no, I'm mostly responsible for automobiles and aircraft these days." A new model every year, as these once-expensive personalised travel vehicles become more and more common. "Oh, and like... household appliances, hexphones... anything sleek and stylish and with my logo on the side." He grins, but feels... weak. Small. It's great he has work but he's just remaking the same things, over and over. He's not an inventor. He's not making anything new.
"Oh, sweet! Got any car that might fit me?" Jax flexes, and the shawl moves as the furred purple bicep emerges from under his jacket.
Jayce laughs, because he's great at socialising and hiding his insecurities over the fact there's someone here with muscles that big (Jayce knows he's missed two gym sessions this week alone, he really needs to do something about that). "Well, hey, if you wanna come down to the Industries yards, we could whip you up a custom car, no worries."
"Oh, nice... but hey, I got other commitments, sorry, and I don't think I can take a car where we're going. But thanks for that, maybe I'll swing by and take a look at what you've been up to, meet your friends, all that jazz."
'All that jazz'. That's a Piltovian aphorism, even if a little outdated. Jayce just forces himself to nod. "Sounds good to me. Uh. 'Commitments'?"
"Oh, yeah!" Jax nods, and gestures towards the fountain. "Me an' my boy Taric have been doin' a bit of a world tour!" Taric is currently braced, focused, concentrating, while holding both Caitlyn and Vi on his shoulders. Vi is whooping with both arms in the air, and Caitlyn is fretting over how quiet Taric is being. "He's a great guy," Jax continues, "Really love seein' the world from his perspective. He got me this!" Two purple fingers fish in the folds of his shawl, and brings out a stone wrapped in leather twine from around his neck. "Jasper. He said it suited me, and that's just sweet."
"Wow. Nice." Jayce isn't quite able to look away from how Taric is holding Piltover's Finest on his shoulders. Could Jayce have done that, back in the day? He feels like he could have, if they'd let him. "Where've you been travelling to?"
"Oh, everywhere, man. Everywhere." Jax tucks his necklace away. "We just got back from the Freljord. Place is just so chill in winter."
"Isn't it always winter in the Freljord?"
"Ha! Right on, man, right on."
Across the street, Caitlyn has noticed Jayce. Direct eye contact has been made; she gently pats Taric's shoulder, murmurs something, and he bends his knees so that Caitlyn can drop - be caught and be guided - to the ground. Now Taric can focus all his attention to Vi, and he straightens up immediately. Vi issues some kind of challenge, and he nods.
Jax turns his head, seeing Jayce's split focus, and snorts a cheerful sound. "Heya, 'Cupcake'!"
Caitlyn arches a brow. "You know you don't get to call me that."
"I can't call you 'Sheriff' anymore, though." The legendary warrior sounds mournful. "You retired! So what's left?"
Her brow stays where it is. "Ma'am."
Jax guffaws, and slaps his leg. "True, true! Sorry, ma'am, won't happen again. Nice seein' you again, little man. Take care, a'ight?" With a nod, he straightens up - suddenly towering over both Jayce and Caitlyn - then strides towards the fountain, taking his lantern with him.
"Hm." Caitlyn watches him go, then looks back to Jayce.
"Hey," Jayce says, still smiling. "How was uppies?"
Her lips quirk. She refuses to allow herself to smile. Typical.
Before he can stop himself, Jayce adds, "And what's going on?"
Caitlyn frowns slightly, her head cocking to one side a bare increment. "Beg pardon?"
Jayce knows he shouldn't have said anything. But now he has, and he has to own up to it. No-one ignores a question from Caitlyn Huxley. "The lads?" He gestures vaguely in Taric and Jax's direction.
"Oh," Caitlyn smiles politely. "Yes, they're just passing through."
She's lying, Jayce realises. Not entirely, but just enough. It's not something he should know, but he's known this woman since she was in pigtails, and in the last eight years they've been able to make some kind of fragile amends. He knows he shouldn't know how to tell when Caitlyn Huxley is lying, but he knows, and what she's saying isn't totally honest. He hates the way his brain lights up at that, at how he immediately starts overthinking, because the last time this happened, he made a hammer...
"Good of them to visit," Caitlyn adds, looking over at them - and at Vi - with a fondness that is entirely genuine.
"You should have told me we were having a meeting of the old gang," Jayce smiles, crookedly. "I could have brought a cheese platter."
"... old gang?" Her eyebrow rises in his direction.
"Former Champs," he says. "A whole party." There's five of them out here right now, by the fountain. It's almost enough to make him feel queasy, just making that comparison.
That same unease crosses Caitlyn's expression for a moment; she must be thinking it too. Her eyes flick back to the trio, and she stands very still. Jayce can see it in his mind's eye, the placement of roles, the assignment of teammates; no doubt Caitlyn is seeing the same thing.
... does she do therapy? He can't imagine Caitlyn letting anyone into her head, not after what the Institute did to her. "Sorry," he whispers. "Didn't mean it like that." He tries to pull his thoughts away from the death circus. "Just... just opened my big dumb mouth, sorry."
Caitlyn clears her throat. No hum, which could be a bad sign; when she looks back at Jayce, her eyes are guarded, which is a very bad sign.
And, also, maybe, a sign that he's right. Which is... oh. Oh shit. What has he just walked in to? Just how big is this? How much trouble is he going to be in if he keeps saying... "Let me help."
Caitlyn hums, finally. "With what?"
"Whatever you're doing. Whatever you're planning." He's an engineer. He knows how to put things together. He's not a detective like Cait or Vi, but he's still a smart cookie. And he's suddenly seized by this fire in his chest, like this is the right thing to do, this is something he needs to do. He can't just be reinventing toasters and automobiles his entire life. He needs this. He needs to help, even if it feels terrifying, even if he might fuck it up again. (Please, gods, please, give him another chance.) "With... anything. Please. I can help, Cait, please."
And this woman, the former sheriff, the daughter of his teacher, his friend, looks at him for a long quiet moment, and the air is cold in Piltover. She puts him on the scales in her mind, and Jayce feels himself holding his breath as he feels himself being measured. Will he be found wanting again? He tries to meet her gaze, even as he feels himself buckling within under the pressure of her consideration...
By the fountain, there's another yelp and a laugh, this time Vi's, as Jax hoists both her and Taric up and onto one of his broad shoulders. Caitlyn's attention is diverted for a second - Jayce feels a mix of relief and anxiety at the same time - then Caitlyn looks back and him and her consideration seems... a little gentler.
"There is, perhaps, something you can help us with."
He wants to say 'anything' but that idea scares him. So he nods, and presses his hands together, and pretends his heart isn't pounding.
Caitlyn's voice drops low, almost a whisper. "We have been planning a springtime ceremony, but..." She hesitates.
Jayce feels everything stop, slide sideways, and something new fills his head. His voice is a whisper too. "Oh my gods. Cait. Are you-- are you getting married?"
"Oh, no no no." Caitlyn smiles, shyly, but with the same glowing fondness that she did before. "We're already married." Her hand rises to her choker, her fingertips brushing the ring sewn into the fabric, the symbol that now replaces her sheriff's badge and -- no-one had noticed, no-one had realised, the design was so subtle and nothing had ever been said and...
"Oh my gods." Jayce shakes out his hands, suddenly breathless, suddenly overwhelmed with love. Caitlyn is married. Caitlyn and Vi are married. They're in love and they got married and now they want to tell everyone and Caitlyn told him about it and he feels giddy, drowning in a tidal wave of sheer joy. "Oh my gods."
Caitlyn looks awkward for a second, never much one for public displays of emotion, but she does smile again. "Hush, please, Jayce, this isn't..." She fidgets with the ring a second longer, then clears her throat and tucks her arm behind her back. "In any case. We were thinking of making a public declaration once the Thaw settles..."
"I know the place," Jayce can't stop himself. He's imagining all the venues, all the floral arrangements, all the people he can call, everything he can do to make this the best dedication ceremony that Piltover's ever seen. He is a man who knows pageantry and showmanship and just how to wow a crowd. He can do this. He can absolutely do this. "Oh my gods. Caitlyn. Congratulations. I want to hug you right now, oh my gods."
She gives him a wry look, then glances over her shoulder. Somehow, she makes eye contact with Vi, and Vi extricates herself from the travelling duo and jogs over.
"Sup?"
"Jayce has offered to help us with the springtime ceremony."
Vi looks sceptically at Caitlyn, then narrows her eyes at Jayce, doing the same internal weighing-up that Caitlyn had done. Jayce tries to stop shaking his hands, he wants to look professional and dependable, but holy gods, they're married.
"Congratulations," he says, very quietly, because this is still a secret, isn't it? They haven't told the world yet. "Oh my gods, Vi. Caitlyn. You both. I knew you two were living together at Bannerstone but I didn't know it-- oh, wow. Wow! Congratulations, I'm so happy for you."
Vi flashes a quick smile, and wiggles the fingers on her prosthetic hand. An identical ring is built into one of her fingers, partially-shielded by plating. They're both wearing rings, identical rings.
"Oh my gods," Jayce almost squeals. He's going to start crying any second now. This is so beautiful. He loves them so much.
"Don't tell anyone what it's for," Vi says, warningly. "You know places like to charge, like, double for confirmations and shit. Worse for weddings. We're on a retiree's budget, my dude."
"I won't say a thing, this isn't my first rodeo, I can totally set this up for you and oh my gods." He takes a deep breath, pulls himself together. "I can do this. Please let me do this?"
Caitlyn inclines a small nod. Vi gives a slight smirk.
"Okay. Okay okay okay." Jayce reaches for his hexphone, and closes the Industries group chat. Design meeting can wait. He needs to find the right locales. Short notice, Thaw is only a week away. He can do this. He's cobbled together projects on tighter deadlines. This is important, he can do this. He'll need prices for location, and catering, and flowers, and --
His hexphone pings. Caitlyn, her own hexphone out, has just added him and Vi to a group chat. "Keep us informed."
"Oh my gods. Yes. Yes, absolutely. I'll get you everything you both need, I promise. Thank you, thank you and congratulations and..."
He stops so suddenly that both women look at him with mild concern.
Jayce looks over by the fountain. Taric and Jax haven't wandered off. They're waiting. Watching. They're still here. They're in Piltover for a reason.
Jayce slides his thumb down the edge of his hexphone, and looks at both Caitlyn and Vi. Retired, the both of them. Married, too. They got married in secret. There's more they're not sharing. More they're not saying.
And Jayce, even in the giddy whirlwind of feelings, is able to pull himself together enough to say, "And when that's done, I still want to help. Okay? I want to be a part of... whatever you're doing. Please?"
Caitlyn presses her lips together, and glances at Vi. Vi, for once, is the steady and unblinking one. She's the one who says: "We'll keep it in mind, Jayce. But let's just take this one step at a time, yeah?"
"Yeah. Yeah, sure. Oh my gods, congrats again." He smiles, and nods, and smiles even wider than before.
Caitlyn and Vi watch him go, seeing him move with a bounce in his step all the way down the block.
"Was it really a good idea to get him involved?" Vi raises an eyebrow at Caitlyn.
Caitlyn sighs slightly. "It will keep him distracted, at least for a bit."
"Man. And here I wanted to plan our little reveal," Vi nudges Caitlyn, teasingly. "And you delegated it?"
Caitlyn brings her hand to her lips, a brief press of her index finger. A look in her eyes, a silent exchange.
Vi watches that digit with a keen affection, then sighs and rolls her shoulders. "Okay. I guess so. Surprised you let him get to you like that, though."
"He's sharper than I give him credit, sometimes," Caitlyn admits, quietly. "Mea culpa."
"You think he's gonna keep askin'?"
"Without a doubt."
"... and?"
"... I don't know," she says, listlessly.
Vi shrugs. "Why not? It's not like he's useless. And you said it, he's smart, so maybe he could... join in?"
Caitlyn looks pained. "Vi. I've already buried Viktor. I have no desire to bury any more friends or family."
The former Enforcer sighs, lets her shoulders slump, nods. A moment of silence can hang, for the statue on Heroes' Walk and the ash blown off the cliffs. "We gotta tell him about that, too."
The pain still shows on her face, despite her efforts to restrain it. "I don't think I can."
Vi's hand flexes, turns, the gears grinding as her fingers ripple and close. Her own gesture of affection, for when she cannot hold Caitlyn's hand in public. "I'll do it."
"... thank you."
"We can think about it. Figure things out."
"Yes." Caitlyn inhales, exhales, slowly. "One step at a time."
Vi nods, then squeezes Caitlyn's shoulder and jerks a thumb back towards the fountain. "Party time?"
Party. As in, a gathering, not a celebration. And yet, hopefully, Taric and Jax are back with a good report. Caitlyn nods. "Lead on, partner."
//Extremely funny that the Demacia comic has Garen, poster boy of the regime who screams JUSTICE for his ult, has him telling a bunch of new recruits the Marvel Studios level of garbage-dialogue 'I can't tell you what justice and honour means, you have to figure it out yourself'. SIR???
Demacia is 60%+ military, they have The Measured Tread, of COURSE they know what Honour and Justice means, and it's all about submitting to the crown and never questioning what they tell you, also dying on the battlefield because dead soldiers don't question the status quo. Demacia is a structured monarchy with a focus on warfare, has been from its inception, and suddenly this comic is trying to go 'no actually I swear they're the good guys, they have our morality :)'.
Hey remember the 2016 retcon where Demacia suddenly hated magic and threw children into conversion camps prison, and there's a whole character who exists because of Demacia's horrific unchecked power and monarchist propaganda? If you don't remember the pre-2016 Demacia lore, you have to at least remember Sylas, come on...
Is Arcane a horrific precedent to the lore being 'Soft And Palatable And Don't Question Us About Anything' or should I blame the collapse on Serafine and her lore-slop level of gormless? Or maybe just the 500 creative writers hired-and-fired in a three-to-four year period? Maybe the last one. I'm tired. I miss the community. I miss when these stories were consistent and coherent and the worldbuilding was actually inspiring to write in.
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Doodle: Born the daughter of a wealthy statesman and a pioneering hextech researcher, Caitlyn discovered her natural gift for investigation when, at age 14, her father was assaulted and robbed on his way home. She snuck out of her house that night with her father’s rifle and tracked down the muggers from the crime scene. (She’s so hardcore… T^T)
More progress shots of my paintover of Caitlyn’s new official splash art! Using a design Sorry I keep spamming these! I’m just really excited with how it looks so far. Using this as a painting practice exercise with a Caitlyn design that I came up with a while back that you can see more of here.
still very much a WIP! This is just for practice, I think her splash is gorgeous as is but thought it’d be fun to try
Imagine if Arcane stuck to the lore, if it was about Piltover vs Zaun and the characters within those two cities. Imagine how good it would have been. Here's my vision:
The main characters followed by the narrative:
Caitlyn is Sheriff, got there by hard work and sacrifice, but is currently a little exhausted after years of working towards her goal of dragging Piltover out of the Bad Old Days
Vi is her partner, Piltover proud, but dealing with weird dreams and chafing against residual class prejudice still present in Piltover
Jayce is an up and coming researcher frustrated that he can't come up with a million-dollar idea
Viktor is emerging from isolation after being humiliated and having his life's work stolen by a Zaunite institution, with new technology at hand and a plan to try something different
And, most importantly, Piltover and Zaun are two separate cities currently undergoing a Cold War
This Cold War scenario gives plenty of scope for characters to be working in the background as villains and instigators:
Singed, a known war criminal, upset that he doesn't have a testing ground for new chemical weapons after Ionia's liberation, who has started experimenting on the people of Zaun (including his former student, turning him into the serial-killer werewolf Warwick).
Camille, a long-lived matriarch of one of the rich houses in Piltover that has been taxed and forced into compliance under Caitlyn's efforts to root out corruption, furious at the loss of personal power and wanting to bring back 'traditional Piltovian values'.
Corin Revek, fled into Zaun's underbelly after his unethical plans to combine hextech and necromancy to bring his daughter back from the dead
Dr Mundo, the drug-using Jekyll/Hyde-style politician, who would be a lot less ethical and eager to become a war profiteer (far more eager than Silco ever was, let's be real) who has a project or two ready to unleash
And between these heroes and villains you also have a gallery of important friends, allies, and people who challenge the status quo, like Heimerdinger, Ziggs, Orianna, Blitzcrank... the most important of these: Ekko. Ekko, a child of rich and technologically-educated Zaunite parents, who comes home to a comfortable life but chooses to stay out in the 'dangerous' parts of Zaun to give hope and protection to street kids and those who need it the most. We should see the situation through his eyes, the mild envy that Piltover can change but how it hasn't seemed to help it's neighbour, his anger that Zaun continues to beat itself down for a profit, that Zaun should be better but how it feels like everything good about Zaun gets stolen by or leaves to Piltover...
And there it is. The root of the conflict is in the status quo. Piltover shook it off, but there are people who want it back, and Zaun wants to shake it off but the powers that be prefer it the way it is.
Caitlyn, newly-appointed Sheriff of Piltover, has been working herself to the bone to bring Piltover out of the Bad Old Days. She's come a long way from 14 years old and tracking down criminals on her own. She knows she's a private investigator, she's not meant for a leadership role, but she's taken the role of Sheriff because she brought it this far, she might as well keep going. No-one does self-sacrifice better. But she's worried about her partner. Vi, a lower class Piltovian who became Caitlyn's partner by sheer force of will, understated intelligence, and an iron-clad set of ethics, has been having bad dreams lately, flashbacks to a life she doesn't remember as her own. It feels bad here, in her head, and she's starting to lash out a little. She did so much, from making her own gauntlets in order to save lives and facilitate being the strong arm of the law, but she can't punch away her demons. Can Piltover's Finest solve this together, or will the past vs the present or work vs personal life start pulling them apart just when they've found their rhythm?
Jayce is frustrated. He grew up with Caitlyn, and she's at the top of her game. What about him? He's richer than her, has more social connections than her, has a whole family name with two very demanding sides of the family and a very intimidating Grandmother Camille telling him he has So Much Potential in his blood, it's his birthright to be The Best, but really he just feels mediocre. He's a good guy! He's handsome and rich but just... mediocre. He's just pressured by jealousy and the idea that he's supposed to be special. He got this research job because of family connections, not because he deserves it, but just when he starts to understand this magic crystal on his own, in walks a Zaunite. Viktor, a brilliant but poor engineer, was part of a Zaunite University think-tank; his work was stolen, and when he protested, he was chased out, humiliated, discredited. Desperate, alone, ruined by grief, Viktor self-inflicted his genius upon himself, developing new technology that would better the lives of Zaunites everywhere. But for the next stage of his project, he needs power, and lo and behold he just picked up the reading of a significant energy spike in Piltover.
Can Viktor trust his work with someone else? No. Can Jayce look past class, nationality and birthright in order to become a better person? Also no. Is the fight over the crystal going to be the instigating point in the story? Yes.
We can have flashbacks to how everyone came to be who they are today. 14-year-old Caitlyn taking up her dad's rifle and then not firing it, and her consequent investigation of corruption in her hometown; teen Jayce eavesdropping in on his parents as they plan his whole life for him; the shaky-cam footage of Vi and Jinx escaping from the lab and getting separated in Zaun's winding streets; Viktor seeing Piddidly presenting Blitzcrank to the world and stepping out behind the curtains, outraged but helpless. We can see Singed and Mundo's laboratories and in Camille's basement, setting up the dangers ahead. We can see Ekko's life in the streets and his work on the Z-drive. We can see shrines to Janna. We can see Corin Reveck weeping over Orianna's core not igniting. We can see beauty and hope and desperation and how Piltover and Zaun, for all their differences, are so alike, a mirror, if only people just were a little different. Season One ends with Jayce hunting down Viktor and slamming the hammer into his chest. Season Two begins with the two city-states on the brink of war, and everyone dealing with the consequences. Can we fix it? Or should we take advantage of it?
Piltover has declared war on Zaun! Zaun is up in arms: the rich and powerful in Piltover never intended to back down, to be better like their bint sheriff promised. Look, there's a prettyboy with a hextech powered weapon. This means war! A Rune War, like the old days. The kind that promises absolute annihilation of both sides, just look at history! But tempers are too high and both sides are starting to unveil weapons like 'we can't possibly lose'! The rich and powerful in both nations play their games, disregarding the lives of thousands, while the good folk scramble to try and stop it all.
Caitlyn tries to keep the peace, but she is ordered to take arms; she refuses, even at the threat of losing her office. Her friendship with Jayce is over, now; look what he's done, look at what kind of a monster he is, how he almost killed her college friend, she's not giving Jayce any advice or a shoulder to cry on anymore. He's made his bed, he can lie in it. Jayce is agonised. He almost killed a man. He has to make this right. But the whole city is singing his praises and burning Viktor in effigy, and if they know he's actually the bad guy... he can face that. He's terrified of being ordinary (or worse). Camille is raising a private military force to 'protect the borders', a military force that seems suspiciously bio-technological in nature, and she's praising Jayce for doing right by the family name while criticising him for not doing this sooner. And then, in the middle of it all, just when it looks like a stalemate might work to keep both nations safe, one of Piltover's clocktowers goes up in flames. A terrorist in pink and cyan is calling out for her sister, and wants to burn it all to the ground. Now Vi's very existence is proof that Zaun is a threat to Piltover: Zaun has been making super soldiers this entire time! It's time for Piltover to arm up! And Caitlyn is furious, watching the powers in this city spoiling to ruin the peace she's sacrificed sleep and health and friendships over. But she's not leaving Vi, not firing her or exiling her. Piltover's Finest is going to work together to break this conspiracy at its heart, no matter what. And then, finally: Viktor, in pieces but slowly healing, wakes to find some unlikely companions by his side, bringing him back to life. Will he use the technology he's developed for good, like he intended? Or has cutting away the humanity in him means he's cut away his old good intentions and compassion for Zaun? Will his new friends get through to him?
The netflix show about Piltover and Zaun should have been like this, focused on the lore of Piltover and Zaun. There's so much already here that deserves to be seen and explored.
Ekko should have a MUCH bigger role. He was, after all, the bridge between being from a rich and scientifically-inclined family and the street kids he was friends with, someone who is perfect for showing the audience how varied and beautiful Zaun's people are. What if he found ZAC? That's another character who should have been in a Piltover vs Zaun conflict, for sure. Zac is another one of Zaun's military experiments, but proof that you don't have to be the killing machine you're made to be. Knowing ZAC, meeting him, getting to know his history, would give Ekko the absolute perfect argument and proof to talk Jinx down from a homicidal rampage. ZAC and Jinx were both made to be soldiers, but they don't have to be. You can choose! You can fight against what the previous generations have done to you! You can be better than a killing machine!
"You're a person! I know you, I know you're you, and not the jinx they say you are!"
And if we want to have a deviation from lore, what about Viktor coming to Piltover, and giving a presentation? Showing off his work before Piddidly can steal it, filled with hope that it might be the same here as it is in Zaun. Caitlyn smilingly in the background for her friend's bright future, Jayce watching with a frown, the seeds of jealousy being planted (why does Caitlyn care about this foreigner, why can't Jayce have good ideas like this, why can't Jayce be centre of attention?) There's plenty of potential for characters to be grown and expanded on from their lore, or to do fun twists and lampshades on expectations (ones that don't undermine whole swathes of character and plot, like that 'Piddidly was my friend' bullshit Arcane did). There are also plenty of B-plots to build on, like Orianna's 'resurrection', or Rumble's decision to branch off on his own, Warwick's reign of terror being brought to an end, or maybe even the demigoddess Janna waking from her slumber. We can have romances and friendships and antagonistic relationships; we can have people naturally expression their identities without it feeling forced or shoehorned in for drama (I am staring angrily at what they did to Cait and Vi in Arcane) or for the sake of ticking a diversity box.
The way I see it ending is a dismantling of the military structures. Camille's army is undone by Singed and Mundo's weapons, and the three of them are exposed and exiled (maybe one of them could have an implied death, someone has to take responsbility for a near-genocide). Vi and Caitlyn walk with Jayce to the border. Jayce is a changed man. He's tired of the conflict, of the expectations on his name. If he's going to do something great, he needs a partner. After all, his good friend Caitlyn has a partner, and the two ladies changed the world for the better. Viktor is waiting at the border, tense and nervous; he's alive because Jayce gave up the crystal that powered the Mercury Hammer, gave 'Piltovian property' to a Zaunite. A political bad move, but one that was the right thing to do. There's an awkward moment, then a handshake, and Viktor begrudgingly welcoming Jayce to Zaun.
"You have a lot to learn."
"As long as you're willing to teach me," Jayce nods. He glances back to Piltover's Finest. "... seeya. And, again, I'm... sorry. I hope when we meet again, I'll be... better."
"Yeah," Vi scoffs, but playfully, smiling. "You'd better be."
Caitlyn raises a hand in farewell, though more to Viktor than to Jayce. "Be well."
Vi grins. "Oh, hey, send 'im back if he starts acting out," she punches one fist into the other. "We'll straighten him out again."
"I'll... consider it." Viktor nods, and then... both he and Jayce vanish into the Grey.
Jinx gets a second chance, too, because she never asked to be turned into a weapon. She never had a choice. But now, look. She has friends. Friends just as weird as she is - a blob guy, a robot ballerina, and a kinda cute kid who has a time machine. Maybe she doesn't have to blow stuff up. Or, well, maybe she can learn to blow up the bad guys... and go for ice cream afterwards.
It's the people who make the nation, and if the people want to be better then the world gets better. It's a message of hope and perseverance. It's about Piltover and Zaun, odd funhouse mirror reflections of themselves, how the bad is bad and the good is good, and we always need to try to be better.
TLDR, Noxus has nothing to do with this, people who die or are injured are done with actual narrative purpose rather than 'we need an excuse for shipping angst or plot progression', and now this show needs a better title than 'Arcane' because it's about the actual lore not some nebulous fantasy/sci-fi writing slapped on the existing IP.
And help. HELP. I have another idea for how this show could have been Arcane and still been League of Legends... writing that up now as well.
Being a fan of something can be so disheartening sometimes, but if you've spent so long invested in something you love, just sand the serial numbers off and keep creating! Just do it! I mean if Riot Games can fumble their own IP enough that they ended up making Arcane of all things, then just go ahead and do what you like with the characters you love the most. Save them from what their creators did to them and do them justice... and hell, maybe even get paid for it! I mean if Mikey from Legends of Avantris can do it, when he turned Jericho Swain into Jericho Sticks, then go. Do it. Get that paper with the characters you love and do it with the canon that Corporate Overlords discarded. If they can't treat them right, you do it. Fuck 'em.
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28th Year's End, 12th of Sefyll Yn Falch (Harrowing, 35CLE)
There is a woman with mostly-white hair watching the Harrowing Festivities. A few streaks of dark hair still remain, as stubborn as the woman herself, but much like Piltover this woman's crowning glory will soon be entirely snowed-in (it snowed last night, after all). There have been a few jokes about the stress finally getting to her, and perhaps more than a little concern about the progression of Mana Sickness in her body, but Caitlyn has waved off such concerns. There are worse things to fret over than the greying of one's hair, after all.
For instance: the fireworks. Her heart has not clenched in her chest this year. It's been over a decade since Piltover burned, and though she was afraid she would still find the sound as nightmarish as the day of, she has been able to endure this year's Harrowing fireworks. Perhaps that is due, in part, to how she has had even greater concerns still. She is the 'Former Sheriff' now, officially retired with all due ceremony, and she has had to leave Piltover's protection and order to others. To the people she trained, and trusted, and watched grow. More than fireworks ever could, the dread of what it would mean (for her, for the city-state, for the whole of Runeterra) if she should ever put down the shield has lingered. This Harrowing would be a great test. Would they be up to the task? Would they be sufficient without her?
Perhaps that is why her hair has hastened to white so quickly in this past year and a half. Perhaps that is why, now, she feels lulled to something like peace as she looks down from Waverley Tower, at the city, at the fairegrounds, at the people celebrating in the lantern-light. She is the Former Sheriff, and Piltover has not burned down to the ground without her. The people who have been entrusted with the responsibilities she carried for nearly two decades are bearing up well. With her retirement, Piltover's old systems have finally passed away, and the change she'd always dreamed of, always worked towards, have been achieved. Everyone's going to be just fine, and she can be proud that she has achieved her goals.
Caitlyn doesn't hear the footfalls on the stairs behind her, but she is aware that she is no longer alone. "Agent," she says, rousing from her reverie.
"Ma'am."
Caitlyn snorts softly, then turns her gaze from the window. It is a title as good as any, though she will pick at the absence of 'sheriff' like an old scar for many years to come, of that she is certain. "Anything to report?"
Half in shadows stands a figure that has eluded her for her entire career, now wearing a badge of Piltover's law enforcement in silver. The badge is, of course, a joke, something tongue-in-cheek. Part of a Harrowing disguise, one that no-one looks twice at. He wears no mask, no costume, but he is utterly disguised all the same. To those few who know this man, he is a curator of a local museum and a collector of art and oddities. To those very, very few who know better, this is the criminal known as C. And now here they stand, face to face, in shadow and distance from the rest of Piltover's celebrations.
"No report," they say, cocking his head and raising an eyebrow. "But I was concerned when I saw your partner on patrol without you."
Caitlyn clucks her tongue lightly. "Patrol? Please. She went to fetch us some mulled wine." The Enforcer's own retirement did not come with as much fanfare as Caitlyn's, for it was - of course - a given. Caitlyn made sure there was just as much celebration, and more reason besides. She might have lost the title 'sheriff', but now the term 'partner' carries more weight than it used to. (It is not something she is still yet used to, even with the ring at her throat.)
"My timing was perfect, then." The agent smiles faintly. Their eyes drop to that ring, then back to Caitlyn's face again. Caught, they pull a slightly rueful smile. "Just enough time to offer my congratulations."
Caitlyn inclines her head, grateful but not quite certain how to reply. It is all still new, and she still carries a shadow of fear that acknowledging the change will be enough to sweep it all aside. A lifetime of being on her toes does not vanish overnight.
"I will make it to the ceremony, if and when it ever happens."
Caitlyn arches a brow. "Even if I release no information to the public?"
"You know me," they say, shrugging, smiling, explanation enough.
"Mm. I do." There's a little fondness in that statement, an acknowledgment of an ache. C had always been the criminal she never caught; they still were, in a way that fate would approve of. Love, hate, obsession, all could be one and the same in the eyes of the gods (dead, buried, or otherwise). Caitlyn turns back to look out the window, to the lightly-falling snow and the flickering torchlight and the whole nation celebrating a time when most nations shudder and cower in fear of Death. Piltover has always been rather an odd duck in the world, and a lucky one.
The agent comes to stand with Caitlyn. For a moment, neither of them speak. And then, they break the silence first.
"Souls are funny things," the greatest burglar in Runeterra murmurs. "I spoke with Taric..."
Caitlyn breathes in slowly through her nose.
C chuckles, and waves a gloved hand. "No, don't fret, ma'am. I know." their eyes drop to the ring on Caitlyn's choker. "I know."
And souls are funny things, aren't they? Fluid, shifting, ever changing, ever growing. What is destiny at nine years old is not destiny at fourteen, for instance, let along at twenty one, or even forty, or anything beyond; an oak looks nothing like an acorn, nor a sprout or sapling. Caitlyn has lived many lifetimes, and though she might have been seeded from a very powerful bond, she has changed what Fate intended a hundred times over. She has made other connections. She has changed her destiny, and bound it with many others. What could have been, what might have been... Caitlyn became Sheriff without thinking of such things. There had been work to do. And now here she is, retired, and the choices she has made will follow her. Perhaps, in time, she will change again. But not every bond need be broken, when it comes to breaking free of one's past.
"Do you regret accepting my offer?" Her eyes flick to the thief's lapel pin.
"Never," C says, firmly. They smile, fondly, bravely, a touch of regret about the eyes but proud. Only ever proud.
"I never caught you," Caitlyn muses, smiling knowingly. The thief's reputation is intact. And yet, so is hers: one more criminal has come to work for her. Fox, grain, and chicken all managed to get across the river, a paradox resolved.
The thief - Former Thief, really - makes a small bow to her, and chuckles. "Never." Their smile is a little wider for a moment. But then they pause. "You sent Vi for the wine. You wanted to speak to me."
Clever fellow. Caitlyn inclines her head. "I have been hearing rumours from Zaun," she says, quietly. Whispered words, turned away from the wind. As far as Piltover is concerned, she is retired. She is no longer the Sheriff. She is, of course, still working.
"Nothing about me, I hope." The thief likewise turns to face the shadows, to keep an eye out. But their gaze stays on her.
Caitlyn shakes her head. "No. Another source entirely. Someone in the Heartland is apparently on the trail of dangerous prey." She pauses, takes a breath. "Prey linked to something you recently brought home."
C nods, thoughtfully. "Shall I look into these rumours some more for you?"
"Heavens, no." She answers quickly, perhaps too quickly. This is the Harrowing, this is Year's End, and in a few days will begin the no-man's land in the calendar, a space that will hold and hold until the year begins again. Superstition is a powerful weapon, but a blade that cuts both ways when superstitions are true. Outside the Crater, the land and sea is thick with ghosts and hungry spirits; within, it would be a very bad idea to tempt fate with a new venture or a dangerous border crossing. The Former Sheriff and the Former Thief both know that luck alone does not suffice for success, but pushing one's luck renders all skill and planning useless. "What I ask of you is perhaps... advice."
"I'm listening."
Caitlyn shuts her eyes, picking up the thread of an old memory. A drive to the border, a bridge, a weight passed from other's hands to her own. "About ten years ago," she says, softly, "A woman gave me a sword. I am, perhaps, overdue to... acknowledge this gesture."
"To show gratitude?" The thief says warily, as though knowing he is poking a sleeping bear.
Caitlyn hums shortly in her throat. It is not a denial.
The thief nods, and glances out to the snow, to the stars and star-rods of Piltover. "A quid pro quo... a dangerous one."
"It was a dangerous sword."
"From a dangerous woman."
Caitlyn tilts her chin and says nothing.
"Hm." The thief adjusts their cuffs, brow furrowed in thought. "Have you discussed this with Vi yet?"
"I intend to. Once she comes back with the wine."
"Clever, ma'am."
"Agent." She looks up at them. "Focus, if you will."
They raise both hands, a gesture of surrender, then puffs a breath through pursed lips. "Advice," they say, thinking. "I would say... I am in no position to offer any advice. My stance has always been 'do not get caught'." Even as they stand there, named 'agent' and answering to her authority; they hum in acknowledgement of the irony. "Do you think you can ... not get caught?"
Caitlyn gives a short nod.
C shakes their head, mildly exasperated. "There's more to this than just an assumption of debt on your part, I assume."
"Piltover and Zaun are too different," Caitlyn says. "Too much the same. They will be rivals until the next Conflagration renders us all to glass."
The Former Thief winces slightly.
The Former Sheriff tucks a strand of mostly-white hair behind her ear. "I fixed Piltover. Why can't I fix the rest of the world?"
C barks a laugh, sudden, incredulous, delighted. They grin, then do their best to hide it. "I thought you were retired," they say, achingly fond, devoted in a way that only two can truly understand. Souls are funny things.
"I still need something to occupy my retirement," she says, dryly. "As well you know."
"Starting a new war of the Cats Against the Wolves?" It's a tale everyone in Piltover knows. The Wolves lost, most famously. Every child knows that.
Perhaps that's what makes Caitlyn's idea feel even possible. She smiles, knowingly.
"Well." They make a small bow. "Count on me for whatever you need."
"Nothing until the new year," she reassures them. "Enjoy the festivities. Have yourself something warming."
The Former Thief says nothing, but looks at Caitlyn in a way that says a great deal. She smiles faintly back, then nods her chin at him. Vi is due to return, and the partners will have much to discuss.
"Safe travels to you, and see you in the new year."
"And also to you."
Caitlyn turns back to the window, and for a little while she watches Piltover alone. It's doing just fine without her; she smiles, and hums something like contentment. She even finds herself, for a moment, checking her pocketwatch for when the fireworks are due. The Former Sheriff might just be looking forward to them.
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