i hear soft things.

home has nothing quite like terra’s magic quarter. piltover has turned more toward technology. other regions have shunned magic altogether. orianna has not had the opportunity to study much about magical theory — hadn’t needed to in order to understand how to craft the ball’s mechanisms. now is as good a time as any to start.

the clockwork lady is naturally drawn toward the largest building at the center of the quarter; a massive library of sorts. orianna is no wizard, but hopes she can still learn something of value.

the ball hovers off to search between the aisles of tomes to sate its own curiosity, while orianna stays settled near one particular section of shelving. out of the corner of her eye, she sees another young woman looking about as out of place as she did the first time she was pulled to another realm.

orianna sets off for the chanterelle club in the afternoon, fully expecting to walk into something akin to piltover’s parlor houses — ornate buildings where the city’s rich and otherwise affluent gathered for tea, and to discuss... whatever piltovan high society discussed. she’d not had the opportunity to ingratiate herself before moving to zaun with her father.

the establishment’s excessive exterior belies a slightly more humble interior. people sit about, smoking and swirling drinks in little glasses and talking amongst themselves. it’s as if piltover’s affluence has taken over a zaunite tavern.

the ball hovers close as orianna approaches the bar. the bartender is pleasant, and helps her navigate the menu to a drink that might be to her tastes. she decides to give it a try. it’s fruity, and sweet. even with her metallic organs, alcohol’s accompanying burn going down is unmistakable.

orianna’s attention is drawn away from her tiny glass, however, when she takes notice of a woman a ways down at the bar. she is beautiful, but what enraptures orianna most is that this woman is possessed of vulpine ears and a tail. santangelo’s field journal comes to mind, and her curiosity gets the best of her.

her hunch could be wrong, of course; what are the odds that someone else from runeterra had ended up here?

orianna has grown quite used to the unexpected by now; it is the second time she’s found herself ushered into some strange new world at the behest of some power greater than herself, and she has to wonder what makes her so special.

ah, well. at the very least, the young lady has been allowed to keep her companion. the ball has its eye periscoped outward, surveying their new environment with quiet intrigue. entirely unbothered by the inherent oddity of the situation, orianna sets about exploring, excitement at the prospect of learning about yet another new place writing itself plain across her features.

something that seems to have followed her from her previous home, however, is that incessant rattle nestled between her mechanical lungs — a spot of irritation. terra, she finds, is more in line with the memories she has of valoran. magic abounds, and orianna hopes her chances of finding purveyors of components compatible with piltovan techmaturgy are thus improved.

a bit of asking around and a good deal of walking end up carrying her to a sprawling marketplace in the southern sector of the city. more polite inquiry toward outdoor vendors directs her to a shop tucked in an alleyway that is much larger inside than its facade would suggest. the walls are lined with shelving and displays for all manner of technology; some of it from the modernity she’d just left, and some of it less so. 

the man behind the counter perks up when she walks in, and tells her exactly where she can find the fine repair tools and tiny gears she seeks without her needing to say a word. the ball tilts in confusion, but orianna simply thanks him and locates the indicated shelf. there is another customer at the adjacent display — a young man, blond, currently very absorbed in looking at what appeared to be... lenses, she thinks. boxes with little lenses affixed to their fronts.

// hey! eden here, letting everyone know that i’ve submitted a drop for the following muses:

orianna (techmaturgically)

marie steinberg (mariesteinberg)

mercedes (crestoflamine)

bloodhound (felagifighter)

eris (courtbreaker)

fenris (laesocorde)

This place is… Crowded. He’d since yanked his hood over his face, but as much as it’d hide that gun aspect to it, this wouldn’t stop the lower part of his face from showing. Though there’s the occasional glance in his direction, no one really paid him any mind. Just to get out of his way, slide past him, his prosthetic hand still held onto the fabric so his hood won’t go flying from the wind.

He’d seen the ocean before, from a distance of course and this is the closest he’s ever gotten. His curiosity just meant having to brave the crowd. It took him the better half of an hour working up the courage and actually getting here but people simply didn’t mind. A real stark difference from how he’s treated elsewhere.

Then he’s hit with recognition that startles him severely enough to yank his hood further down his face. But then it’s just Orianna. He didn’t expect her to be here but it’s nice of her to let him know its her. The voice is simply a long distant memory. The anxiety melts away almost completely, enough for him to let go of his hood and look down at her. She has… What is that?

“Hi. You um. You startled me. What’s that?”

❝ Oh, I’m sorry — I did not mean to scare you. I simply did not expect to see you again. It’s been such a long time. ❞

Though more than excited to see her friend again, Orianna cannot help but wonder why the same person was brought to one of these experiments from their home a second time. The determining factors are something to think about.

❝ I forgot that you have not met the Ball. I made it in my world, for protection. I had it returned to me while you were gone. ❞

Her companion seems to have calmed itself some now that clarifications have been exchanged. Its eye periscopes out a bit to get a better look at Seven.

Over the course of her time in the city, Orianna has made several meaningful connections with others. The island is populated by so many, and the young lady tries to be kind to everyone she encounters. When they move on, she sometimes finds herself thinking of them, and hopes her well-wishes are strong enough to reach other worlds.

Seven is from the other place, before everyone was transported here. He’d gone back home before the departure. To spot his head and heavy red cloak above the foot traffic on the boardwalk of the Golden Ward is a very pleasant surprise.

Orianna’s face breaks into a smile, and she jogs a little bit to catch up to him. The Ball whirs along behind her, confused as to what has her so energetic.

❝ Seven! Hello! ❞ she greets, falling into step beside him. ❝ It’s me, Orianna. I did not expect to see you again, but I am happy that you are here. ❞

The Ball looks between the two of them.

he finds, through experimentation, that it’s fairly easy to traverse the streets of this city without many people calling attention to him. the residents here seem to be all too used to strange individuals wandering with no set goals in mind, which works out just fine for the outsider, as he has few goals to attend to. he wants to understand his new surroundings, but he wants to do so at his own pace. the thought of asking for a guide never occurs to him.

unsurprisingly, he’s drawn to water. certain parts of the city remind him more of this aspect of the void than others, and even though this place is filled with people, it’s where he allows himself to end up. he notices the faint sound of gears and machinery near him, but he’s grown accustomed to ignoring unfamiliar white noise (though that did take a bit longer than he expected).

when he hears a voice address him, he answers quietly, still not taking his eyes off the tank.

‘ creatures that spend their lives underwater tend to find comfort with me. more often than humans do, it seems. ’

as if to demonstrate, he raises a hand and moves it from one side to another in front of the glass, watching the way the fish follow it.

‘ although, ’ he adds, ‘ these in particular are much more colorful than the ones i’ve known. ’

Orianna’s eyes seem to sparkle, and she puts her hands together to convey her excitement. The child in her that never got to experience the world marvels at the smallest wonders. 

It’s almost magical. But...

❝ Are you lonely? ❞ she asks. The Ball seems to chide her for asking such a question to someone she has only just met, but Orianna pushes it aside gently. 

Being shut in for most of her life has denied her the joys of meeting other people — a deprivation she is making up for in earnest now that she is free to go where she chooses. Orianna knows loneliness well.

She turns in her chair to face him instead of the fish tank.

Orianna hadn’t considered that fish could come in so many colors. 

There is a place on Pearl Street that boasts an impressive aquarium, practically teeming with fish that appear more decorative than anything. Though Piltover is close to the sea, no one seems to pay much mind to the ocean. Commercial fishing is not a popular industry in the city of progress, and fish kept as pets are practically unheard of.

She has no idea if the restaurant’s food is any good; Orianna only has eyes for the tank, pulling up a chair and producing a journal in which to take notes. The aquarium serves its purpose of attracting people in that regard. If the staff tell her to leave, she will, but until then...

The Ball sways to and fro, as if following the movements of the little creatures. Orianna envisions one of her wind-up figurines, in the unique shape of one of these tropical fish. It would emulate their locomotion — perhaps she could obtain colored metals with which to construct it?

After some time, a boy approaches the aquarium with a like curiosity. The fish seem to grow more active with his presence. Orianna briefly pauses her note-taking.

Ekko hadn’t expected anyone from Runeterra to be here, from the start he’d seen strangers as far as he could see. From the very night he arrived, no word of anyone he knew, no names showed up on the phone he was given, nothing. To top all of it off, he couldn’t go far with the conditions of his lungs, so he decidedly settled in the lower parts of Fibonacci.

Being a friend of Orianna, he knows her speaking temperaments slightly better than most usually would - well enough in this moment to try and speak up in the moment of silence. Not quick enough though, to try and clear up any seemingly pressured intent.

He’s glad he did, too.

“A… almost a year and a half?! Really?” Seems The Boy Who Shattered Time is having some issues grasping the proper passage of time, seeming a little crest fallen by the idea of being stuck here… and earning things back? So that’s why the Z-Drive has been acting oddly, only allowing warping… they somehow stripped power from a hex crystal. The boy has given his own pause after the exclamation, so he cools his thought process to respond.

“A… not even a month, yet. I still have the Z-Drive, but… not… all of it.” He explains, stopping there– though his hands betray him by lingering a second longer than needed. The boy’s always questioned everything, now more than ever. He’s simply trying to control it now.

❝ Yes, really. I do miss home sometimes. I’ve known people that have been sent back where they came from, but it seems to happen at random. I still do not know the how or why. ❞

It’s quite frustrating. She cannot imagine how people who have built entire new lives here must feel, knowing it could end at any time. Perhaps it is easier not to worry about such things.

Orianna is empathetic toward Ekko and his confusion; she was in the same position, once. If she had checked her phone more often, she might have seen his arrival and offered him assistance right away.

❝ Oh, yes, everyone is limited in some way or another in the beginning. I arrived able to access the Ball’s barrier functions, but without the Ball. In time, you should regain access to more of your abilities. They may even restore power to your Z-Drive! ❞

For Ekko, it’s almost just like home. Minus his friends, family and sense of community - it’s still almost too close to how home was for comfort, half the time he feels like he might turn a corner and get jumped by the Twins or someone. Someday, he’s gonna figure out how to get back home to everyone… he’s sure of it.

For now, a bit more familiarity shines in the darkness - a voice he’s not heard in what feels like longer than it truly has been. The boy’s gotta do a double take for a split second just to make positive he’s not going stir crazy from his time away from home.

“O– Orianna!” He manages to say without coughing - guess he’s getting better. We’ll see what his voice is like after he takes the time to jog over quickly. “You’re telling me, heh, I thought it was just me and Death!” A sweet nickname for Kindred, the hunters he was quickly exposed to in his first few days here. Ekko’s grin is wide and pearly, though quickly changes to confusion.

“How long have you been here? The uh… new universe, I mean.”

Orianna, having been an island resident for such a long time, hadn’t ever expected to see people from Runeterra. She had seen Nami, once, and another girl — but never anyone making their home in Piltover or Zaun. A surprise encounter with someone she considers a friend is certainly cause for excitement. Perhaps a bit of celebration would be warranted later on.

The Ball spins to express its cheer. She matches the boy’s smile, but there is a small prick of concern. Death? Orianna can’t remember her time of sickness very well, but shadowy teeth looming over her neck in fever-dreams is not something soon forgotten. She is no longer ill, and hopes her recovery is not resented.

She has no need to clear her throat, so a somewhat awkward silence hangs for a fraction of a second too long.

Fibonacci’s lower levels remind the clockwork lady very much of Zaun; she can easily draw comparisons, from the lifts to the shopping promenades. It’s almost uncanny. 

Undeterred as ever by the supposed danger involved in foraying to the canyon floor, Orianna tries to assist where she can. There are people that need medical assistance, and she is sure to speak kindly to them and remember their faces. The next time she comes, it will be with what supplies she can gather.

As she calls the lift to return to the surface, the Ball emits a startled tone. Turning to soothe it, she spots the source of its excitement. 

the person with whom he speaks to receive the handful of rafts he is intent upon gives him a sad glance at the number he requests. he gives them a cordial smile in return, though he is ill interested in attempting to explain himself to someone who would not understand what it is to lose one’s previous life in nearly every respect.

in truth, not a one of the rafts in his hands (for it takes two to carry them) is meant for a single person. such is the quantity - and distance both - of his grief.

he had left himself a surplus of time, it seems; dusk has not yet fallen when he takes up his post beside the lake, near to a person in a similar predicament as to his own. he offers them the same smile, crouching near the shore and laying the rafts out side by side and watching the gentle disturbances of the evening breeze upon the water.

Orianna has just finished affixing the lollipop to one of her rafts when someone joins her along the bank. She is quick to smile back at the man, the Ball offering a soft tone in welcoming. 

❝ Oh, hello. We both seem to be a bit early. ❞

She notes the sheer amount of rafts he has, and becomes immediately sympathetic to his loss. She is sure it shows on her face, but takes care not to prod despite her curious nature.

Orianna, in search of some calm among the more erratic festivities, has ventured into the Cotes Ward. 

Drawn to the foot traffic around the lake, she spends her evening there. As the sun sets, she visits one of the candle-lighting ceremony’s officiators and purchases two candle rafts. It has been far and away since she’s lost anyone, but still thinks her well-wishes may do them some good.

The first one is for her father, who she hopes is doing well back home. The second one is addressed to Seven; she brings it to the water’s edge, complete with a lollipop to send along. Maybe she is a bit too sentimental over a friend from so long ago, but she does miss him.

With the locals now focusing on the “reaper threat”, he can move around the kingdoms without having to deal with an elf or a dragon-person trying to destroy him on sight. It’s a welcome change, but not a very useful one, as even the cities have no technology for him to repair himself with.

Still, it’s nice to finally be able to sneak into one of the towns and out of reach of his murderous double. If a MRVN could experience nightmares, he has no doubt the reaper would feature in his–he can still hear its broken static, and picture its dull purple optic. Its purely robotic movements and inability to speak still haunts him.

That’s what people want me to be, is all he can think. That’s what they think I am.

Momoka chirps to alert him to the presence of another, uncurling to look out from beneath the shadow of his hood. It’s only then that he realizes someone is speaking to him, and lifts his head to stare at her and slowly process her words.

“I would help you, friend,” he begins, before continuing in a tone of audible guilt: “But I can’t get up. I don’t have enough power left to walk, or fight. I am very sorry, but you will have to ask someone else!”

The Ball offers the MRVN a sympathetic series of beeps, and turns its curious periscoping eye toward his feline companion. Orianna is more verbal with her condolences.

❝ Oh, I’m so sorry. I hadn’t considered that the electricity would be... gone when things changed. ❞ 

She has never had to rely on electrical power. Perhaps — in these circumstances — even the mechanical winding her father powered her with would have been a blessing by comparison.

An idea flashes across her features, and the lady fishes through one of the pockets in her skirt. Eventually she produces a fist-sized blue crystal partially encased in metal. She holds it out to him. The Ball seems incredulous, but she dismisses its worry.

It isn’t as if Yotsuyu doesn’t know how excited by things Orianna can get. She lived with her longer than she’s lived without her, here, so it goes without saying that she’s picked up on how her former housemate could be.

But there’s a noticeable difference to this, somehow. Her old body? Is that what has her sounding so excited, even conveyed only through text?

TO: Orianna FROM: Yotsuyu goe Brutus

[TEXT] Whatever one it was around Diapool. I have little interest in memorizing the specifics. The forest is pleasant enough. [TEXT] I look… mostly the same. Certainly not affected by fur and feathers like some poor souls have been.

She’s gotten off lucky that way, at least.

[TEXT] You might be a little… disappointed… should you wish to see one another, though. I know your tendency for concern. [TEXT] Let us just say fangs are… normal. As is an inability to stay in the sun. But it isn’t anything I can’t handle.

Orianna practically bounces from foot to foot while waiting for Yotsuyu’s response. As the texts come in, she realizes that she can send the image she took for clarification.