#matchamilkis

ABBY ANDERSON.

White Horse, knight!abby x princess!reader. incomplete.

teaser.

part 1.

part 2…

VI.

In The Darkest Corners, vi x oc/reader. incomplete.

preface.

part 1.

part 2.

part 3.

part 4.

part 5.

part 6.

part 7.

part 8.

part 9.

part 10.

part 11.

part 12.

part 13.

"So you're no stranger to Babette, huh?" Vi asked teasingly.

"That's none of your business," Olive responded with a scratch in her throat, like just the thought was upsetting her.

"Whoa, my bad, didn't mean to hit a sore spot." Vi lifted the hands in her jacket pocket as an informal defensive stance.

"So where are we going now, anyway? Did...Babette have any information?" Olive asked, desperate to change the subject.

"We aren't going anywhere. I'm following the lead Babette gave me, but it's better I do it alone. I'll find you later."

"I'm sorry, what? If you've got a serious lead, I'm coming with!" Olive exclaimed, her face knotted with offense and surprise.

"No, you aren't." Vi's eyes hardened as she stopped and stared Olive down, like she was committing some crime by wanting to be involved in her own investigation. "This is something I need to do myself. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you don't seem like much of a fighter, and I don't want to deal with being in charge of someone else's life right now." Her voice was firm. Olive knew she wouldn't bend.

"Fine." Olive crossed her arms. "As long as you don't get yourself killed before we figure this shit out."

Vi winked. "Wouldn't dream of it."

—

Olive grumbled to herself as she trudged to her shamble of an apartment, cursing herself for not trying harder to stick up to Vi. Not much of a fighter my ass, she thought. She hasn't even seen me fight! She sighed, knowing it was no use to argue about it with herself. She'd just have to wait and hope that Vi kept her word about finding her. Unless...

Once inside her apartment, she headed straight for the pack she'd been living in since she first left her old home with it. Deep at the bottom, where she hoped she would never have to reach, her hand curled around a metal object. Pulling it out, Olive took a long look at the pistol that once felt warm in her hands. She always resented the shooting lessons and tournaments that her parents forced her into, but now that she actually had a use for her unforgotten skills, she started to understand just a little bit why they enforced it so much. She gripped the weapon tighter in her hand, then checked that it was still loaded like she remembered before standing up and walking grimly out of her apartment.

Olive scaled the walls of the tallest building near her and began to travel along the raised pathways, jumping over gaps and scaling more stories as she needed to. While this wasn't her favorite form of travel, it would be the best way of spotting whatever Vi was getting herself into. She suddenly stopped when she heard Vi's voice.

"Filthy traitor!"

Olive got down low and peeked over the ledge she was on. What she saw was Vi slamming another person's face into a wall. Ouch. Upon taking a closer look, Olive gasped when she recognized Vi's opponent. Sevika? Olive herself had always stayed as far away as possible — that bitch was scary as hell. But she was also giant, with a metal shimmer-powered arm. The fact that Vi was holding her own against her, and actually kicking her around, was impressive.

And hot.

Olive followed the fight as it moved, watching as they slammed each other through walls and made hit after hit. When Vi launched Sevika through a wall into another alleyway, Olive cursed and quickly leaped across another roof and rushed onto a raised walkway to keep track of the fight. She watched as Vi grasped Sevika's throat and held her down with her boot, growling something to her that Olive couldn't pick up. When Sevika replied, she watched as Vi's face slipped into shock and her guard started to come down.

That was when Sevika stabbed her through the abdomen.

Olive gasped in shock, and after a moment she came back to herself and started fumbling to get her pistol out, cursing her stupid fingers. She felt helpless as she watched Sevika kick Vi down from where she was already crawling on the ground and then walk around to pull her up by her chin. Then Sevika raised her arm, about to recharge. Olive knew instantly that she was aiming to kill. Without a second thought, she pointed her pistol at the vial of shimmer that was about to recharge Sevika's arm, and shot. The vial burst open, shocking the great brute long enough to give Olive the chance to keep shooting. She aimed for her now failing arm again and again, but her target quickly jumped back into action, growling at Olive when she spotted her before dodging her shots and running off.

Olive instantly leapt down to the alley Sevika had left Vi in, calling out her name desperately as she rushed towards her. She shoved the pistol back into her holster and knelt down to check that Vi was conscious, or at least alive. To her relief (and surprise) Vi looked at her with a weak smile and held a hand towards Olive.

"You gonna help me up or not, cupcake?"

Olive sighed and pulled Vi up with both arms after holstering her pistol, laying Vi's arm along her shoulders so that she could hold most of Vi's weight while she still walked.

"Stop calling me that, my name is Olive," she said in a tone of half-assed annoyance.

"But you're so sweet, like a cupcake," Vi replied with a smile in her voice.

Olive rolled her eyes but kept helping her along down the alleyway in the opposite direction of where Sevika had gone. A shiver suddenly ran down her spine when she heard shouting and running in their direction.

"Shit," she hissed under her breath, about to hoist Vi more onto her figure so that they could speed up.

"Start running," Vi said, suddenly quickening her own steps with a painful groan. Olive did as she was told and started rushing down alleyways, taking whatever turns and detours Vi instructed her to. They slowed to a stop in front of a ledge that housed levels of scaffolding below it.

"Are you sure you can do this in your-" Olive was cut off by Vi leaping down on her own, and Olive rushed to look what she was doing just in time to watch her slam herself onto a horizontal pole, but keep launching herself down.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" Olive cursed in hushed tones before following her lead. She did her best to avoid throwing herself around like Vi had done, but this wasn't exactly an easily navigable path. She dropped herself next to Vi and put her arm out to stop her before she started trying to move again.

"My apartment is just down the next alley, we can go there," She gasped, still trying to catch her breath. Vi nodded and, surprisingly, let Olive continue helping her as they made their way to her apartment.

They struggled up the steps, but soon enough Olive was kicking open the door with her free leg and led Vi to the mat that she used as a bed. The latter groaned and let her head fall against the wall as she shifted her hand that was covering her wound.

"Let me see," Olive said gently, reaching to move Vi's hand and then her shirt that was blocking her full view of the wound. She winced, seeing just how wide and deep Vi's wound really was.

"You're not a bad shot, Cupcake," Vi groaned, trying to lighten the mood.

"I'm a great shot," Olive retorted with a sigh, moving to search for whatever first aid supplies she could make out of her few belongings. She found a clean cloth and some alcohol, and turned back to Vi to clean her up.

"This is going to sting," she warned before pouring a bit of the alcohol on the wound and quickly covering it with the cloth to soak everything up. Vi groaned and hissed in pain.

"You're not even gonna give me some of that stuff before you start pouring it on me?" She asked with a grimace. Olive shot her a glare and stood up.

"You need some sort of medicine for this." She stated, looking out the one tiny window in her apartment.

"Good luck on finding that," Vi retorted with another groan.

"I'm sure I'll manage. I'll be back soon." Olive turned and started towards the door, but Vi spoke again suddenly.

"Olive, I...Thank you," she almost whispered.

"Anytime," Olive replied casually before heading out the door and back into the Lanes.

“Caitlyn? What the hell are you doing here?” Vi hissed back, rising out of the darkness of her cell to approach Caitlyn. Her defenses prickled at the memory of what went down in front of the Council. More importantly, what she lost that day.

Caitlyn paused, her hand lingering on the lock. She met Vi's gaze, her expression unreadable. "I'm getting you out.”

Hope flickered in Vi’s chest, but it was quickly dampened by doubt. The skepticism dancing on her face hardened into a scowl. "Why? What's your game, Caitlyn?"

"Look, I know you may not have the best impression of me, but I’m here for Olive. She’s been missing, and I talked to the bartender at The Last Drop. He last saw her with Sevika, until she passed out and Sevika dragged her off. I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything about this?” Caitlyn replied, her tone measured.

Vi's fists clenched, the tension between them escalating. "You think I don’t know? That Silco wouldn’t dangle it in my face like some sort of fucked up little game? You think I haven’t been torturing myself in here, day in and day out, trying to figure out how to get to her?” She stepped forward menacingly as she spoke, until Caitlyn could almost feel her breath on her face. “But now you show up out of nowhere, claiming you want to help? For what, a Piltover PR stunt? Either get me out of here so I can fix this shit, or leave.”

Caitlyn's jaw tightened, and for a moment, the air crackled with unspoken conflict. "I know you don't trust me, Vi. But I need you to trust that I want to help you. To help Olive. Silco's grip on the Undercity is tightening, and we need to stand together against it." She paused, taking a suddenly shaky breath. “And…I, uh….I can’t lose Olive again.”

Vi scoffed and rolled her eyes, suspicion still etched on her features. "Why should I believe you? You've always been on the other side of this mess. You couldn’t even try to find Olive when she spent an entire year alone in the Undercity.”

Caitlyn sighed, the weight of their shared history pressing on her shoulders. "I know I haven't been the most reliable ally in the past. But circumstances have changed. We—"

Vi cut her off bitterly. "Save it. I don't need your explanations. Just get me out of here, and we'll go from there." Caitlyn was silent, caught off guard. Vi studied Caitlyn's face, searching for any hint of deceit. The cell seemed to shrink around them as the seconds ticked away. Finally, Caitlyn nodded, a begrudging acceptance in her eyes. She understood that the fragile alliance forged in the depths of the Undercity might not survive in the harsh light of the world above.

She pulled out some sort of advanced lock picking mechanism, and made quick work of the rickety cell lock. As the lock clicked open, the cell door swung open and Caitlyn stepped back cautiously as Vi quickly exited her cell. The tension lingered, a silent reminder of the delicate balance between trust and betrayal hovering around them. Caitlyn, acutely aware of the strained atmosphere, focused on the task at hand—getting Vi out of Stillwater. The dim light flickered overhead, casting erratic shadows on the walls. They were able to quickly sneak back out of Stillwater, Caitlyn following Vi’s quick, athletic maneuvering.

Once they were a ways away from Stillwater, Caitlyn put a hand on Vi’s arm to stop her. Vi flinched at the touch, like she was tempted to swing, but Caitlyn chose to ignore the movement. “Stop, Vi — where are we even going? How do you know where she is?”

The question made Vi sigh, like it was something obvious that Caitlyn was oblivious to. “I know Silco. I know where he keeps his facilities. I know exactly where he has her. Where he wants me.” Her face was hard as stone.

Caitlyn wasn’t convinced. “So what, we’re just going to walk straight into what is obviously a trap? The two of us? Even if we managed to get in, there’s no way we’d be able to get Olive out. Not without a full rescue team.” Her disbelief was palpable in her voice.



Vi closed her eyes, like she was thinking, and then shook her head. “I don’t care. I’ll figure it out. I won’t wait anymore. I have to find her.” She started walking again, but yet again, Caitlyn grabbed her arm to stop her, more forcefully this time.

“You’d be a fool to do this. Just wait one day, I’ll pull together a team of enforcers and we’ll face Silco and his followers together. Then we’ll have an actual chance.” Her voice was desperate, like she wasn’t just trying to convince Vi, but herself as well. Vi pulled away again.

“You can do that if you want, but I’ve learned my lesson with enforcers, and I’m not risking it again. Especially not with Olive involved.” She spoke with an air of finality that Caitlyn came to accept was not one to be questioned. She sighed.

“Fine. I’ll move as quickly as I can, but in the meantime, just…be safe. Please. For Olive,” Caitlyn replied in a gentler voice, softening in the subject of her childhood friend. Vi nodded, and then turned her back to leap into the Undercity, moving as quickly as she could while keeping her stealth.

—

This time when Olive awoke, she was alone. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved, or made more anxious by the absence of another person. She sat there in the silence, her back against the freezing wall of her cell, alone with her thoughts and fears. Was she really going to die like this? How soon would it be? Would, at the end of the day, it really be her own father that ended her life? A year ago, she might’ve been grateful to be free from the pain and confusion…but now, she had something to lose. Someone to lose. Even if it was a someone who left her. Alone. In the rain. Someone who she wasn’t even sure she would ever see again, if she did survive this. Before Olive knew it, she could feel tears dripping down her cheeks, and her ears suddenly registered the sobs leaving her throat. Her cries seemed unending, the cold in the air and the burning on her wrists disappearing into her sorrow. After what felt like forever and no time at all, she finally heard footsteps tapping down the corridor towards her, a mocking “tsk, tsk, tsk,” being murmured by the figure as they approached.

“What?” Olive choked out through her sobs. Suddenly, it didn’t feel worth it to save her words anymore. “Here to taunt me more? Make me feel worthless, hopeless, despaired?” She took a shaking breath and continued, “Well, I’m already there. You did your job. What else do you want from me?” The door to her cell clanged open and shut, but Olive still kept her eyes squeezed and trained on the floor. It wasn’t like she could use her hands to wipe her tears while they were changed behind her back, so squeezing the excess liquid out of her eyes was the best she could do. She listened intently as the figure knelt in front of her and grabbed her face in their hands. She wished she didn’t recognize their touch.

“Oh, dear, sweet Olive tree, don’t cry,” her father’s — no, Teeter’s voice made a terrified shiver go down her spine. He wiped her tears for a moment, but she flinched from his touch, now glaring straight into his eyes. Instead of pulling away, his grip on her jaw tightened. His voice turned from a fake sweetness to a true hiss. “Don’t you worry, dear daughter,” he drew out the pet name like a snake, “it’ll all be over soon anyways. We’re just missing one piece of our puzzle.” Olive took a deep breath, and glanced down at his hands before looking back into his eyes. Wordlessly, she reeled back slightly and, as hard as she could, spit straight in his face.

Her screams followed quickly after. “YOU MOTHERFUCKER,” she bellowed, her voice scraping even as she ignored it, “YOU FILTHY MURDERING FUCKING TRAITOR, YOU’RE DEAD. YOU’RE FUCKING DEAD. I WON’T LET YOU DO THIS AGAIN, I WON’T. YOU COWARD,” her voice echoed in the cell and down whatever corridors connected to it. Teeter grimaced and angrily wiped the spit off his face, using that same hand to then cover one of his ears as Olive screamed, the other keeping a tight grip on her face. He suddenly let go of her face and immediately slapped her as hard as he could, making Olive’s eyes blur and tears prick in her eyes. Before she could react, he gripped her face in one hand again, this time so tightly that her cheeks were completely squished together by her mouth.

“How dare you, you little bitch,” he snarled, pulling her close to his face. Even though her cheek was bright red and felt like it was on fire, Olive ignored the pain and returned Teeter’s glare silently. He huffed and dropped her. “Sevika!” He called in a suddenly airy voice, “I think our bitch needs a muzzle.” As Sevika turned from the wall outside of Olive’s cell and strolled in as requested, Olive’s stomach filled with dread. Her heart pounded against her chest, and she scrambled back against the wall, as if she would somehow be able to escape this. Teeter simply watched her and laughed cruelly. Olive’s eyes were wide as saucers while she watched Sevika approach, spinning a metal muffle gag in one finger.

Sevika’s voice broke through the momentarily quiet room. “I’ll take it from here,” she spoke gruffly through a half-smirk, only glancing at Teeter, who nodded and looked to Olive one more time. She continued glaring.

“I’ll see you later then, dear daughter,” he said sinisterly, kicking her once in the abdomen lightly and ignoring her whine. “Can’t wait for our next talk…” He turned and slinked out of the room, leaving Sevika to her own devices with Olive. The taller woman nodded a goodbye and focused her attention to Olive, who was glaring up at her from her position against the wall.

Sevika smirked. “Oh, my little bird, I wish we could do this in different circumstances,” she remarked cruelly, approaching Olive with the so-called ‘muzzle’ in her hand. “How nice would that be, hm?” Her voice was that of a mocking murmur, only fueling Olive’s hatred and dread. Olive bared her teeth in a grimace, holding back the urge to spit again.

“You’re disgusting,” Olive replied in a hate-filled voice. Sevika only laughed. Her laugh made something in Olive snap, and she reeled back and then spit straight into Sevika’s face (or as close as she could get from the floor). Disgusted, Sevika grimaced and then whipped her gaze back to Olive with a newfound anger in her eyes.

“You really want to act like a bitch? Then I’ll treat you like the little bitch that you are,” Sevika barked, roughly grabbing Olive’s jaw in one hand and yanking her up to where Sevika could more easily reach her. Before Olive could recover from the shock and spit a retort, the muzzle was being shoved onto her face. Olive half-choked on the gag as it invaded her face and mouth, making Sevika grin maliciously. With a click, Sevika latched the device on securely and shoved Olive back down to the floor, still gagging a bit on the new sensation and desperately trying to force her body to breathe out of her nose. Once she could breathe, she sent a hateful glare towards Sevika, who sighed and leaned down a bit. Her large body approaching Olive’s made the smaller flinch away, as if she would be able to get away. As if. Sevika rolled her eyes.

“You know, little bird, I would be a lot nicer if you made it easier,” Sevika said to her with a sigh, catching Olive’s chin with one finger as she tried to turn away and lifting Olive’s gaze to hers. “So pretty…” she murmured, “we’d have so much fun, you and I.” Olive could do nothing but glare in response. Sevika sighed again and removed her finger. “It’s too bad that you’re too much of a prissy bitch to take an opportunity when you get one,” she grunted and took out a cigar, lighting it and placing it between her lips to take a long drag before speaking again. “You could’ve had it good down here. But instead, you chose someone who won’t even attempt to help you. How sad.” Olive’s glare became fiery, and she lurched out towards Sevika, as if she could do anything. The chain holding her hands wasn’t even long enough for her to stand up, much less reach Sevika, and Olive was yanked back down by the chain as vigorously as she tried to get up. Unsurprisingly, Sevika laughed and cooed mockingly. “Aww, want to fight back, do we?” her voice hushed suddenly, “You’re ours now, little bird. And there’s no fighting back.” With that, she turned around and left the room, leaving Olive to moan in pain at the new restriction on her face.

—

The night wrapped Silco's stronghold in a shroud of darkness, broken only by sporadic lanterns casting long, eerie shadows. Vi moved with calculated determination towards the looming warehouse that covered Silco’s underground hold, her steps muffled by her strategic movements as she approached. Ideally, she would slip past the guards and into the stronghold unnoticed, but when it came to Vi, this wasn’t a very realistic option. Instead, she left a trail of unconscious guards behind her, bodies hidden by random objects or pushed behind barriers and into shadowy corners. Soon enough, she was within the twisted corridors of Silco’s headquarters. The echoes of distant conversations and clinking metal reverberated as Vi navigated the labyrinthine passages, her keen eyes searching for any sign of Olive. The information she had extracted from Caitlyn and Grint had led her here, to Silco's inner sanctum, where he practiced the majority and most important of his operations, as well as kept his long-term prisoners. Her heart pounded in her chest as she descended lower and lower into the hold, eventually approaching a heavily guarded door. With practiced finesse, Vi disabled the guards without a sound, their unconscious bodies now silent witnesses to her intrusion. The door, fortified and imposing, seemed to defy her entry. Vi gritted her teeth, muscles flexing as she used all her strength to pry it open. The hinges groaned in protest, but the door finally yielded. The corridor beyond was dimly lit, revealing rows of cells like crypts in the Undercity's secret catacomb. The air hung heavy with the scent of dampness and despair. Vi scanned the cells as she advanced through the corridor, her eyes searching for a familiar face. Eventually, she spotted a battered form huddled on the ground on the floor of the farthest cell, quiet pained breaths leaving the person’s body. Vi rushed to the cell, hands coming up to the bars as she looked in. Instantly, her heart sank as she recognized that the form was in fact a shivering Olive, seemingly unconscious on the floor of her cell.

"Olive!" Vi whispered urgently, her voice barely audible above the oppressive silence. Olive’s body didn’t move. Vi shoved the door open, nearly ripping it off its hinges, ignoring the fact that it was suspiciously unlocked as she rushed to Olive. She gently took Olive’s face in her calloused and wrapped hands, inspecting her as she whispered pleas for her to get up. “Olive, Olive please…wake up, Olive, please…it’s me, its Vi,” she begged, her voice breaking as she spoke and a breath of relief leaving her chest when Olive’s eyes blinked open.

But instead of looking relieved, Olive’s eyes widened and she immediately squirmed to try to escape Vi’s grasp, her instincts surging with panic even though she had yet to realize who had awoken her. Vi gently grabbed one of her arms and rubbed, continuing to identify herself until Olive finally seemed to hear her and paused, wide eyes meeting Vi’s. At first, she looked shocked, then relieved, and tears welled in her eyes as Vi pulled her into her grasp and held her for a moment. Vi then pulled away, moving to release her from her binds, but Olive’s eyes grew wide again, and she started to scream from behind her mask, muffled sounds being all that came out as she stared at something behind Vi and desperately tried to free herself again. Confused, Vi’s ears finally picked up on footsteps approaching from behind, not having heard them before as she focused on Olive. But by the time she realized this, it was too late, and something heavy hit her on the head before she could even turn around, the world going dark.

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tags!!: (lmk if you want to be added!)

“Vi?” she called out timidly. The door to the en-suite bathroom suddenly opened.

“Need something, cupcake?” Now leaning on the door frame was a clearly just-showered Vi, wearing only a white towel wrapped tightly around her. Her wet hair was a mess against her head. Olive wasn’t sure where to look. She cleared her throat nervously, catching herself staring and quickly averting her eyes to look around the room. Vi smirked and raised an eyebrow. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

“No, I, uh…I just um, I just…you weren’t in the room, so I…” Olive trailed off awkwardly, internally cursing herself.

“Mmm. I see,” Vi said, her eyes trained on Olive. “Well, the bathroom is all yours now. The hot water feels great,” she continued slyly as she walked past Olive into the open room. Olive could feel her face burning with an intense blush.

“Sounds, uhhhh…sounds great,” she replied, failing to have a casual tone. Without another word, she shot into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Cringing at herself, she held her head in her hands and slid down to the floor against the door. Fuck.

When she could breathe again, Olive stood and forced to give herself a long shower, even though she felt bone-tired. She hadn’t realized how much she needed it until she let herself stand, finally clean, under the hot water and just think. She stayed there until the water started to feel too hot, at which point she gently turned it off and finally got out. She took her time drying her body and her hair, savoring the fluffy towels and clean mirrors.

When Olive finally came out of the bathroom, she saw Vi already laying on the bed, seemingly already passed out. Something about the sight made her smile. As quietly as she could, Olive crept over to the bed and laid down on the opposite side, facing Vi. She looked so peaceful — something Olive never really saw. Without thinking, she gently reached her hand out to stroke it against Vi’s face. To her shock, Vi’s eyes gently opened. Olive gasped quietly and went to pull her hand away, but Vi had already grasped it in her own hand. Without a word, the magenta haired girl closed her eyes again, still holding Olive’s hand in her own. Olive drifted off to sleep only moments later.

—

When Olive awoke, the first thing she noticed was how warm and comfortable she was. Moments later, she realized that was because she was gently wrapped in Vi’s arms, who held her from behind and was clearly still asleep. Olive slowly began trying to get up so that she could find Caitlyn, but when she was halfway up, Vi’s grip suddenly tightened and she pulled Olive back forcefully. Her muscular arms wrapped tighter around Olive so it was harder for her to get up again.

“Vi, I have to-“

“Shhh, I’m still sleeping,” Vi murmured, interrupting her before she could give an excuse. Well, Olive couldn’t argue with that — or at least she didn’t want to. She let herself sink into Vi’s body, and there they lay until they were interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Ol? Are you awake yet?” Caitlyn called. Olive sighed, knowing she needed to get up and deal with life when she wished she could just forget about it all and lay there with Vi forever.

“I’ll be up in a minute!” Olive called back. Wordlessly, Vi let her go and the two of them began to get up. They needed to be ready.

The three of them ate breakfast together in Caitlyn’s room, with her mainly watching Olive and Vi eat while she picked at her own food. The two of them seemed absolutely famished, Vi even more so than Olive. But it was Olive’s hunger that made Caitlyn truly sad. She needed to change the subject.

“So, the next council meeting is tomorrow. Before then, you two will need to come up with a strategy to convince them about — what was his name? — Silco. I expect you’ll need my help seeing as my mother is a council member.”

Olive nodded and swallowed her large mouthful of food before speaking. “You’re right. We won’t get anywhere without a plan, or your help. But first…there’s somewhere I need to go. Just for some closure,” Olive said, looking at Caitlyn like she was begging that she wouldn’t make her explain any further. Not right now. Thankfully, the latter nodded with silent understanding.

“Whatever you need.”

As soon as they had stepped beyond the Kiramman’s gate, Vi slowed to a stop and leant against a post. “So, are you going to tell me where we’re going, or is it a surprise?” She smirked, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

Olive looked down nervously. “Unfortunately, it’s nothing pleasant.” She sighed and looked up, right into Vi’s eyes. “We’re going home. To my home.” Vi instantly dropped her persona. Her demeanor softened.

“Oh.” Her face looked heartbroken and conflicted, like she wasn’t sure what to do. “If you want to go alone, I can-“

“No. I want you to come with me. Please.” Olive’s eyes were pleading — she couldn’t do it alone. Vi nodded. Olive took a breath and continued. “Luckily, we don’t have far to go. I lived right next door.”

As they walked up to the gate that preceded Olive’s once-home, it became clear that the neighborhood had been dedicated enough to their own looks to keep the house looking normal from the outside. But from what Cait had told her, nobody had actually bought the house or moved it. Not that anyone would want to, after what happened. Vi grabbed Olive’s hand in silent understanding and squeezed it. Olive looked at her, and Vi gave a small smile of encouragement. With a deep breath, Olive raised her free hand and pushed open the familiar gate. Her home was smaller and less grand than the Kiramman’s, but it still held the stature and upper-class expectations of Piltover. The front door opened easily in Olive’s hand, and when she saw what had become of her home for the first time, she had to fight the urge to simply crumple to the ground and sob. All that came out was a harrowed gasp.

“Ol, if it’s too much, we can always leave,” Vi soothed, but Olive shook her head.

“No. I need to know. I need to see,” she said, swallowing back the emotion that threatened to overcome her. She took her time taking everything in, from the wrecked overturned furniture to the decorations and memorabilia smashed on the floor. Traveling up the stairs, she could still see clearly the marks left by enforcers’ boots as they had trampled through her home. She peered down the hall, and noticed something strange. The self portraits that her parents had forced her to sit for each year of her life lay untouched. They must have been deemed unimportant from their high, secured place on the wall. Vi seemed entranced as she gazed at them.

“These are…all you. Your entire life, right here,” she murmured, transfixed. The more she looked at them, the more Vi noticed one specific detail. Each year, Olive’s hair grew longer, sometimes unrestrained, sometimes confined in a braid or long ponytail. In what was clearly the most recent portrait, her hair was a loose, thick wave that almost floated around her being. Vi stared at this for a few moments, then turned and gazed at Olive’s now cropped hair. It barely reached past her chin, and a lot of the time it was mostly tied up or pulled back. Vi contemplated this, wondering why she had left this behind with her own life. Olive noticed this and cleared her throat.

“I do miss it, sometimes. The hair. Living the kind of life where I can maintain something like that. But after I left, I…it was too much. Instead of being something I could appreciate, it was always in the way, always dirty or hard to manage. It was the last thing I had to leave behind.” Olive had to force herself to turn away from her portrait. From the smiling girl that sat straight and clean. “It’s just hair, anyways,” she said, turning away and heading towards her bedroom. Her final destination. Vi wanted to stop her, to say something, but she wasn’t sure what to say. What to do. Silently, she followed Olive.

Surprisingly, Olive’s room was just as she left it. Destroyed, of course, but at least it was her own doing. Her clothes haphazardly pulled out of her wardrobe and thrown wherever if she couldn’t bring it. Other belongings searched through and abandoned before she could have second thoughts. Her bed, dusty and messed about from her urgent bolting from her sleep. But there was one thing actually untouched. Her piano. Olive beelined for the grand instrument, sliding onto the bench like she always had. Her fingers ghosted over the keys, pressing random ones and watching the fingerprints she left in the dust. She could feel Vi standing adjacent to her, watching, but her focus stayed on the piano. Even her favorite piece was still open on the music stand.

"Holy fucking shit."

Olive still couldn't believe they had done that. She'd done a lot of ballsy shit in the past year, but breaking into a prison and then breaking a prisoner out of said prison definitely took the cake.

"What? Never pulled a prison break before? Shocker," 516 retorted smugly. Olive rolled her eyes as she followed her towards the lanes, keeping up pace as best she could.

"You know, I still don't know your name," Olive remarked. "I can't just call you 516." As she spoke, she had a near miss with a pipe that apparently wanted her foot.

"Oh, you can call me anything you want," she replied with a devilish smirk. "But if you really want to know, my name is Vi." With a look back at Olive, Vi took one step forward off a ledge and dropped into an abyss of undercity. Olive stumbled to a stop, dumbstruck, unsure of whether to blindly follow or chalk it up to 'Vi' being crazy and call it a day. Except she couldn't do that - not if she didn't want to go back to square one.

Ugh.

Walking up to the ledge her companion had just stepped off of, Olive looked down and felt a wave of dizziness hit instantly. She had built up some skills over the last year, but this — this was damn near foolish. Regardless, today was apparently a day of firsts, and Olive wasn't about to lose it at the first drop.

She had to admit, the feeling she got when she let herself drop off of the high story roof was nothing short of exhilarating. She quickly tumbled onto the next level and raced after Vi, who was already quite a ways ahead of her. Olive refused to acknowledge her already aching muscles as she raced after the former prisoner, swinging across gaps and leaping off from story to story. After what felt like both forever and no time at all, they arrived at their destination.

The middle of the lanes.

Olive watched Vi breathe it in, staring at the smoke and neon lights littering the desolate streets like she had been waiting for this for forever. She watched her, entranced, until she realized what she was doing and shook it off. She can't afford to notice how attractive Vi was, not with what she would need to do, and especially because of her asshole persona — but she was undeniably attractive. Never mind that. Olive was pulled out of her thinking haze by Vi signaling Olive to follow her. Obliging, she jogged up to be next to her.

"Where are we going?" Olive asked, having to keep her fast pace to stay in step with the taller woman.

"Somewhere we can get a good start." Vi replied, looking back at her. "That is, if you can keep up." Olive rolled her eyes and muttered an insult under her breath, exaggerating the sway of her hips as she continued on with Vi. An awkward silence descended upon them and, desperate to at least not be completely miserable during this whole escapade, Olive spoke up.

"So, what does Vi stand for anyway? Vivian? Victoria? Vienna? Viola? Victor? Violence? Vi-"

"Violet." Vi cut her off abruptly. "It stands for Violet. But nobody's called me that since-...well, not for a long time. So don't get any ideas about it."

"Whatever you say, Vi-o-let," Olive replied cheekily, accentuating each syllable. Her breath was suddenly knocked out of her lungs when Vi grabbed her by the front of her shirt and roughly shoved her against a wall.

"I said, you don't get to call me that," she growled through gritted teeth, her face suddenly hardened and stony. "Got it?"

"Got it," Olive squeaked, taking a haggard breath when Vi decided she was appeased and let her go. "Do we have some sort of problem? If you keep grabbing me like that my shirt won't last the rest of the day." She glared at Vi from the side of her eyes, starting to regret whatever possessed her to break the brute out in the first place.

"No problem," Vi replied. "I just don't want you getting any ideas about us being 'friends' or anything. We're both only here to get what we want. No more, no less. Got it?"

Olive paused for a moment, caught off guard. "Got it. No friends."

The pair continued through the lanes until Vi came to a sudden stop in front of what looked like a particularly revolting food stand. The creature running the stand broke a huge, toothy smile when he noticed Vi walking up — did they seriously know each other? When she really thought about it, Olive wasn't all that surprised, but she still had a slight aversion to the smell wafting from the stand.

"Jericho, buddy! How's it been down here?" Vi exclaimed, a smile Olive hadn't seen before suddenly spreading across her face. Jericho replied with a series of grunts and gestured for them to sit down. Vi sat down instantly, Olive...apprehensively. She watched as 'Jericho' turned and started filling a bowl, seeing that when he set it in front of Vi that it was full of what looked like giant blue slug type creatures. Olive's lip curled up instinctively in disgust and had to hold back a gag. She watched as Vi gorged herself on the food, wondering how someone can eat something like that and still look hot. Impressive.

"I'm sorry, but are you going to question him or not?" Olive leaned over to whisper to Vi.

"No." Vi replied swiftly.

"But isn't that why we're here?" Olive asked, her voice rising slightly with urgency and confusion.

"We're here cause I'm hungry," Vi replied before stuffing her mouth again. "Oh, Jericho, this is better than I even remembered." She said in almost a moan as she finished off her bowl. Jericho grunted again and took the bowl, sliding a piece of paper towards Vi under one of his giant fingers in return. Vi shot Olive a knowing smirk and stood up without waiting for the other to follow.

"Where are we going now?" Olive asked as she and Vi traveled further through the undercity. Without a word, Vi flashed her the scrap of paper Jericho had given her. Olive's heart skipped a beat when she saw the symbol etched on it.

"The brothel??" Olive whispered harshly as she stepped in front of Vi and brought the both of them to a halt. "We can't. I-I won't do it, not if I don't need to."

"Shit, Olive, what the fuck are you doing?" Vi exclaimed, furrowing her brows. "Unless you don't want my or anyone else's help, we haven't exactly got another option. Just follow my lead and you'll be fine."

"You don't underst-" Olive cut herself off and took a breath. Not wanting to reveal too much about herself to someone like Vi, she continued. "Fine. But we need to be in and out."

"Whatever you need..." Vi replied sarcastically.

The two of them continued in silence until they arrived in front of the shambled building, which now seemed even more looming to Olive. Vi strode in confidently, which left Olive to linger behind until she forced herself to go in. The smell of smoke and sex filled her nostrils the way it had done so many times, and she felt like even the walls could see her.

"What information could I get from these people anyways? How?" She quietly wondered out loud to Vi, who slowed to face her.

"If you want people to talk to you, you have to convince them that you have what they want," Vi replied with a smirk.

"And what do I have?"

Vi circled around her, looking her up and down. "You're hot, cupcake." She suddenly moved in closer, forcing Olive against the wall and raising one hand to block her right next to her face. "All you have to do is choose — man, or woman?" Her eyes were dark with an intoxicating look, staring so deeply into Olive that she felt like she might melt.

"Right. Got it," Olive said breathlessly, still unable to tear her eyes away from Vi's. The taller pulled away slowly and smirked before she continued down the barely lit hallway. Olive straightened up and tried to swing her hips alluringly as she followed. At the end of the hallway, they came upon a door that Vi knocked on twice. When it opened, it revealed a small elfish woman that Olive often wished she didn't recognize.

"Vi," the woman said, gasping and putting down her teacup. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes."

"Hello, Babette," Vi replied as she slowly entered the room. Olive truly started to question her own decision making abilities as she followed.

"And Miss Whitlock," she continued with a hint of surprise in her voice, taking a long drag of her cigarette. "I do hope you've come by to tell me you've had a change of heart...you'd be so popular with the patrons." Babette raised her eyebrows as she looked at Olive expectantly.

"Sorry, but no, Babette," Olive sputtered nervously, avoiding Vi's suspecting gaze.

"Oh come now," the small woman continued. "Think about the earnings you would bring in. You'd just have to let yourself go a little bit."

"I said no, Babette." Olive stood awkwardly for a moment before turning around and walking out of the room, the silence booming in her ears. If she was going to be stuck in the brothel until Vi finished up business, she might as well try and do what she said.

Shit, was she going to hate this.

She strutted through the hall until she found a rather lovely looking woman in a fox mask.

"Hello," she said in what she hoped was a seductive voice. "I'm Amryn, love. What's your name?"

—

Vi sauntered down the hall with a new air of confidence. She knew who to find and where to find them — but first, she had to find Olive. A few doors down, she could hear her silky voice floating out of a room, along with someone else's. Approaching closer, she saw just who she was looking for, but not in the way she expected. Olive was draped across a chaise longue with one hand up, playing with a strand of hair. She had a sultry smile on her face, and was now listening to a woman in a fox mask talk about something or other. Not that Vi was listening — she was distracted watching Olive's suddenly intoxicating features. Shaking herself out of it, she stood fully in the doorway and leaned on the frame, crossing her arms casually.

Olive froze. Whoever was in that cell, it certainly wasn't her mother; but by the look and sound of this inmate, she wasn't sure if she should be all that relieved. But she knew what she needed to do. Taking a deep breath, she spoke.

"I'm Olive. Are you inmate 516?" She asked with as steady a voice as she could muster.

"Depends who's asking," the figure responded gruffly. The voice sounded dark and vaguely female, but Olive wasn't sure. All she could see was a muscular figure pacing back and forth.

"I was told you might have some information I'm looking for," Olive continued, trying not to let the inmate intimidate her.

"And you broke into this shithole to get it? Must be important then." They chuckled darkly.

"It was all Achlan-" Olive was cut off.

"Achlan? Don't tell me you work for that bastard." The figure suddenly stopped and turned towards her. She seemed to be a woman with cropped hair and sharp features, but apart from her aggressive stance, Olive couldn't make out any more details.

"No, I don't. But that's not the point." Olive took a breath, mustering up her courage to step over the red line marked on the floor and get close to the cell bars. "I've spent the last year searching for my mother, Eleanor Whitlock. I've heard whispers of her working with industrialists in the Undercity, but nothing more than that. You're my only lead."

Inmate 516 sighed and resumed her(?) pacing. "Sorry, I've never heard of any 'Eleanor Whitlock'. By the sound of it though, my guess is she was some rich topsider that got too close with undercity business and reaped the consequences. Not uncommon."

"No!" Olive exclaimed. Her voice came out louder than intended, and she silently kicked herself. "My mother wouldn't have done anything like that. I know her. I've heard whispers of her working with the industrialist, Silco, but-" The inmate suddenly rushed forward and grabbed Olive by the front of her shirt, pulling her close to the bars — and her suddenly illuminated face.

"She worked with Silco?" She growled, glaring so hard that Olive thought her eyes might burst into flames. Olive was stunned, not only by the fact that she was currently being held so tightly she was lifted onto her toes, but also by the appearance of perhaps the most attractive person she had ever seen.

The inmate's face was angular and littered with scars, her nose clearly having been broken more than a few times and a roman numeral tattoo marked under her left eye. Olive could tell that she was strong as hell, not only by the fact that she was lifted off the ground, but also by the sight of her stocky, muscular build that was accentuated by large tattoos. She had to force herself to pull her eyes away from the inmate and focus on the task at hand.

"No," she gasped out, "I-I'm not sure, I've only heard his name mentioned once or twice. I thought he was just doing normal business." Olive's chest rose and fell heavily as she struggled to keep her breathing even.

The muscled inmate dropped her. "You topsiders really don't know shit, huh? The undercity's going to eat you alive."

"Not if I can help it." Olive replied. "And you're going to help me. I need information, now."

"Oh I can get you information," 516 smirked, leaning on the bars with her hands dangling lazily around them. "Just not from in here."

Olive held up the keys that had been digging into her palm and sighed. "I just know I'm going to regret this."

Shit. She quickly realized that the many keys on the ring were NOT labeled, and she had no way of knowing which one would unlock 516's cell. She began jumbling with the keys, fitting each one into the lock and growing more and more anxious as she started running out of keys.

"Would you hurry the fuck up?" The inmate hissed, earning her a glare from an already stressed Olive.

"Sorry, I'm not exactly a prison break-in pro, as you can probably tell," She hissed back. Finally, a key slid into the lock easily and clicked. Right as the lock opened, however, voices echoed towards the two of them from down the hall.

"Somebody had to have taken my keys," a low, scratchy voice growled. Olive could see glimpses of what seemed like two large figures — guards, she realized as her heart dropped — who were flashing torches into each cell, clearly looking for whoever had stolen the keys. Looking for her.

The prisoner acted fast, unlike Olive, who was frozen in fear. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, she had forced open the door and yanked Olive inside, pushing her up against a dark niche in her cell with her hand covering Olive's mouth. Wordlessly, 516 held Olive in a firm grip and kept her eyes and ears trained on the now closed cell door.

Meanwhile, Olive's heart felt like it was about to beat out of her chest. Here she was, hiding from a guard during a prison break-in, and all she could think about was how she was being held against the wall by a very attractive person who had nearly half a foot on her in height. Shit, she needed to focus. The guards' steps were drawing closer.

"Who's down here again, 516? Yeah, that one's trouble alright." Another gruff voice, clearly belonging to another guard, grunted out with a rough chuckle. Olive watched as 516 clenched her jaw and gently let her go, holding up her finger to signal to Olive to stay silent as she waltzed towards the center of her cell — where she would be most visible. Olive held her breath.

One of the guards ran his thick baton along the bars of the cell as both guards walked into view. With a sinister smile on his face, the same guard with a baton looked 516 up and down with another gruff chuckle.

"Cause any trouble lately, 516? Seems my friend here is missing his keys." The other guard grunted.

"I'm flattered that you would think of me, Flock, but I unfortunately have no idea where Flick's precious keys have run off to," She said smoothly, pulling off the boldfaced lie brilliantly.

"Shame. We haven't had a...talk in a while," Flock responded, resting his baton on the floor and letting a vicious expression take over his face.

"I know, so sad." 516 replied sarcastically with gritted teeth. "Maybe next time?"

Flock's smile widened, showing rows of sharp teeth. "Oh, there's always a next time."

Once the guards had sauntered away and there was silence for a few moments, Olive let out a long-held breath and let herself slump against the wall.

"I'm never doing anything like this ever again," she sighed quietly.

1 year ago.

BANG.

Olive was ripped from her sleep from the sound of doors shutting and closing in quick succession, followed by footsteps racing down the hall. Frozen by shock and uncertainty, she listened for only a second before she heard the heavy front door slam in and what sounded like a dozen pairs of boots stomp in, accompanied by deep shouting and the crashing of furniture and other belongings being destroyed. Without a second thought, she leapt out of bed and ran to her door to see what was going on. She whipped her door open to find her mother hurrying down the hall with her arms full of unfamiliar papers and strange objects.

"Mom? What's going on?" she whispered towards her mother's hunched figure, trying not to alarm whoever was invading her home. Her mother's head whipped around to face her and she dashed almost inhumanly toward Olive.

"Leave. Now. Or they'll catch you," her mother hissed, her eyes alight with fear and something else that Olive didn't recognize. "Out your balcony. Go!" Before she could speak, Olive's mother shoved her back into her room and, with a final glance, whispered "If we live, we'll find each other." With that, she pulled Olive's door shut and disappeared.

After a moment of shocked hesitation, Olive turned away from the door and set into action. Knowing she didn't have time to change, she ripped what clothes she could fit into her pack from her wardrobe and pulled a jacket over her pajamas. Hearing the thundering footsteps and muffled shouting travel up the stairs, she pulled on her boots and slipped through her glass balcony doors. Climbing over the ornate railing, her last glance into her lifelong home was of blurred enforcers busting through her bedroom door as she slid down her balcony and tumbled into the lamplit streets of Piltover.

Current.

Olive slipped quietly across a familiar alleyway in the Undercity, sticking to the shadows and praying that she ran into no one. After the night she lost her once plentiful life in topside, her luck had only gone south. Rumors about her mother's corruption and alleged betrayal of the high houses and individuals of Piltover only needed a night to spread before Olive couldn't escape them. Afraid of being apprehended by enforcers as well (or worse), she fled to the Undercity. It would never be safe, but she knew that here no one could recognize her or what her family had done.

In the past year, Olive had scraped her way by in the Undercity, always working odd jobs and barely slipping under people's noses when things went south. She had her fair share of cuts and bruises, but as long as she was alive or at least not wildly broken, she was persistent in continuing her investigation into what really happened to her mother that night. Most of the work she did involved shady dealings that she traded for information, but so far, she'd been met with snarky remarks and vague statements alluding to what *may* have happened.

Maybe this job will be different.

All she had to do was make a small - albeit strange - delivery; how hard could it be? She slipped past buildings and snuck around brawling groups and staggering shimmer addicts to the low, almost invisible basement building that she was delivering to. Peeking through the smoky window, she could see almost nothing besides a decrepit wooden door and a sign warning others not to enter. Maybe I can just leave it at the door and move on? She wondered - but sighed when she remembered she had specific instructions to drop it off with the receiver. If she were a native to the Lanes, she might have had the insight to just leave the package at the door anyways and do her best to evade the consequences later. But even after a year of fighting her way through the darkness, she still couldn't abandon the manners and instruction obsessed habits that her upbringing had given her.

Grumbling, Olive wrenched open the outer door and paused at the wooden one inside, considering whether or not to knock. Deciding it was best to not catch the inhabitant off guard, she knocked heavily on the door and stood back in case they came out swinging. Not much to her surprise, the door was ripped open by a hulking figure with enraged eyes and the smelliest breath Olive had encountered yet. Gulping, she held up the package and mustered up the courage to speak.

"From Achlan," she squeaked, ready to drop it and run at a moment's notice. Don't get her wrong, she could hold her own if she needed too - but she'd rather not need to in this instance. The large creature, who Achlan, her employer, had identified as 'A big lug of a man' grunted and took the package with one large gruff hand. Frozen, Olive just let him take it and continued to stare at his gnarled face.

"Need anything else, pipsqueak?" The man growled, looking almost murderous at the fact that Olive had apparently overstayed her welcome. Sputtering an apology, Olive backed up a few feet before turning and running the opposite direction, heart thundering in her chest just from the thought of spending any more time in that dusty doorway.

Olive ran as fast as she could through the lanes towards her employer's main camp, scaling a few walls (with some struggling) and launching herself across gaps between buildings that would usually send her stomach turning. Finally, she caught a glimpse of the crooked stack of buildings that her destination inhabited. She slid down the roof and shambled wall of the building she had been perched on, and tried to look confident as she strode towards the building that seemed rather looming when she really looked at it. On the ground floor stood the Undercity's iconic brothel, a haram of substances and lust that constantly hung in the air in and around it. Olive really tried to avoid the place simply so she wouldn't be lured in by the promise of payment, but for this job, she needed to go inside to access the stairwell to the upper floors.

Taking a deep breath, Olive avoided the eyes of the few people lurking outside and pulled open the door, slipping inside and rushing towards the stair at as fast of a pace she could go without looking suspicious. She almost made it before a smooth, husky voice called out to her.

"Hey miss...you look awfully lonely over there; leaving in such a rush?" The masked man called, stalking towards her with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Yes, I am leaving, actually," Olive replied, her breathing shallow as she tried to continue on without making eye contact.

"Ah ah ah," The man continued, reaching out to snatch her wrist before she had a chance to slip away. "You're really going to leave a paying customer unsatisfied?" he asked with a smirk.

"I don't work here," Olive hissed in reply, trying to snatch away her arm; the man's grip was surprisingly strong for his lanky build.

"Oi!" A deeper voice suddenly called, causing both of them to whip their heads towards the stairwell. "She's with me."

Olive recognized her employer instantly and shocked even herself with how relieved she was to see him. The masked man released her wrist immediately, muttering a nervous apology and slinking away into another room of the brothel. Olive had never been so thankful for such a terrifying man's nerve-wracking effects.

"You, up here," The large man on the stairs grunted, gesturing towards Olive. Nodding, she scampered up the rickety wooden stairs after his thudding footsteps. Upon reaching his door, he opened it gruffly and didn't bother to check if Olive made it inside or was even following him. Reaching a large desk littered with objects, the man sat down and faced Olive with an unimpressed look on his face.

Her employer was an almost ogre-like man with bulging muscles and strange bumps littering his green-tinged skin. They called him Achlan, and by now, Olive had heard enough rumors to know why his name and his looming presence sent people scattering.

"You finish the job?" He asked, seeming rather bored.

"Yes, sir," Olive said, the words seeming to jolt out of her almost trembling mouth.

"Good. You may leave," He replied, waving his hand toward the door and looking down at his desk.

"I'm sorry, but my payment..." Olive stuttered with her eyes to the ground.

"Ah yes, you're the one that wanted information. Strange request. Let's see, you want to know about Eleanor Whitlock, yes?"

She nodded a response.

"Something tells me you already know plenty about her family history...so why come to me? Surely you've tried to do some sleuthing on your own."

"Yes, sir, but if you could just tell me something — anything you know," She pleaded in a quavering voice. For a few moments, there was silence.

Then Achlan spoke.

"Stillwater Hold, inmate 516."

Olive was struck speechless. In a daze, she walked down the stairs and out to the street, paying no mind to anything, or anyone, around her. Stillwater Hold? What could an inmate there possibly know about her mother?

What if...No. Olive refused to even suspect that her mother could have ended up in jail. She'd had to face a lot of things in the past year, but even now she couldn't face the thought of it. Clenching her fists, she let her anxiety turn into anger, and was basically boiling by the time she reached the one place she knew she could get information about Stillwater - The Last Drop.

The neon glow emanating from the gigantic eye hit Olive's vision before she even spotted the building. The run-down and rather nasty bar was a common watering hole for residents of the Undercity, and no matter how hard she tried, that didn't exclude Olive. Her ears were flooded with noise when she opened the groaning door, and she held back a wince at the stench of alcohol and body odor. Making a beeline for the bar itself, she slid into an empty stool and waited for the familiar bartender to turn toward her.

"Olive, what can I do you for?" The dark, broad-shouldered bartender asked, a small smile whispering on his lips.

"I'm not drinking tonight, Grint," Olive replied with a serious face. "I need advice." Leaning in closer, she waited for him to do the same before continuing.

"Say I wanted to find a certain prisoner at Stillwater...Could I, you know, do it?" She asked in a lowered voice. Grint almost laughed.

"Not unless you want to get thrown in there with them! My advice, if you want to see anyone in that hellhole, you better be ready to stage a full break-in. Not that they're expecting anyone to break in — who in their right mind would want to get in there? Except you, of course." He chuckled and shook his head like Olive was presenting some ridiculous idea. She wasn't.

"And how would I go about breaking in?"

Avoid the light, find a back door, don't get caught. Those were the instructions Grint gave her before being pulled away by other customers at The Last Drop. How Olive was going to pull this off, she wasn't sure — but she'd be damned if she let another clue go unsearched. Taking a deep breath, she started carefully navigating her way around the jagged rocks of the island that Stillwater inhabited. She hissed like she had just been stung when the searchlight nearly grazed her calf. She went to hell in a handbasket alone just to get to the island, and that supposedly wasn't even the hardest part. Eventually, she reached the tall, intimidating building and started to scout it for entrance points.

Shit.

The only point of entry she could find besides the very obvious front doors was a second story window that seemed like she would need about five more years of rock climbing experience for. But time wasn't going to slow down for her to figure out another plan, so she latched her hands and feet into whatever holds she could find and started to climb.

How in the world she did it, Olive wasn't sure, but climb the wall she did. The window was, of course, locked, but it was nothing that a lock pick and a little elbow grease couldn't take care of. Within minutes, the window was open, and Olive was in. Seconds later she regretted every life decision she ever made when she spotted a gigantic guard sitting no more than 20 feet away. That is, until she heard him snoring. Her breathing started again and, after a moment to check that he was truly asleep, Olive began creeping towards him as slow as she could stand to go. Upon approaching the guard, she noticed a ring of keys on his belt. Isn't that a little too obvious? Olive wondered, but hey — she wasn't one to pass up such an opportunity. Her fingers made quick work of the key ring, and within seconds, the keys were in her hands. Now she just had to figure out which cell was 516's.

Initially, Olive figured that 516 must be on the 5th floor, considering that the inmates on the floor she was on seemed to all reside within the 100s. But the higher she went, the lower the numbers got; until she made a frustrating realization. The higher the number, the lower the floor — which meant that inmate 516 must be quite a bit underground. After kicking herself for wasting time, Olive descended floors until she reached what appeared to be the lowest floor, and the home of inmates listed in the 500s. Most of the cells down here seemed to be empty, and as she passed more and more cells, the unexpected sound of fists hitting concrete started to echo in her ears. Her blood chilled, and of course, it was only fitting that as she drew closer and closer, the light started to dissipate, the length of the hallway started to shorten, and the pounding only grew louder.

"Hello?" Olive called barely above a whisper towards the cell marked 516. The fists stopped. Olive came to a nervous stop in front of the cell door, fiddling with the keys in her hands. She caught sight of flashes of dark pink hair and heavily tattooed skin. The occupant tilted their head slightly towards Olive, exposing an angular face with a scarred lip.