Paradoxes (Arcane)

She unknowingly comes into your life like a rolling storm, unnerving in her suddenness yet calming in the weight of her presence. And yet there’s also so much more. In the grey of her eyes, you spot a steadiness like concrete. An unmistakable sharpness like the edge of a nickel, but one that’s dulled by a softness like rain clouds. You’ve always been drawn to paradoxes. Paradoxes much like the place you’re in now. A recently opened cafe that professes to offer undercity prices and hospitality while being located on this side of the Piltover river, right next to the border. You’ve visited every coffee shop in Piltover proper, and you’re hoping this will finally be the one with coffee that is neither overpriced nor tastes like shit. Surely [[undercity coffee]] can’t be much worse.

You study her as the man in front of you begins to rattle off his order. [[You’re drawn to her roughness.]] [[You’re drawn to her softness.]]

She’s the kind of woman your mother would deem as unbecoming and loud. She’s tall, even if not as tall as you, yet she seems larger than what any gilded cage can contain. Her short, undercut hair is a striking hue – yes, it is loud, and it is brash, especially against the sepias of the coffee shop’s interior. It’s difficult to pinpoint the precise color—not quite pink but not quite red either. Her ears are decorated with numerous piercings, there’s a smaller piercing on her nose, and her arms are a work of art straining against the constrictions of their canvas. She’s the kind of woman [[you like]].

She’s the kind of woman your father would invite over for tea out of curiosity. She’s slightly shorter than you—most precisely at the height where you could give her a forehead kiss with ease. Her short, undercut hair is a color you associate with femininity—not quite pink but not quite red, instead sitting in a vibrant middle ground. She has harsh edges, muscles and piercings and bold eyebrows, but your eyes gravitate instead to her heart-shaped face, the restrained dusting of freckles on her cheeks, and long eyelashes. She’s the kind of woman [[you like]].

Perhaps you could do without being attracted to the barista who serves your coffee. There has to be a coffee shop in Piltover that you missed. Right? One that serves inoffensive enough coffee. You can deal with mediocre coffee ahead of your mediocre job. Maybe you can get rid of your caffeine addiction altogether. Give Marcus your daily coffee and maybe get promoted for it so that you can finally do a job that matters. The man in front of you suddenly begins struggling with the card machine. He groans, his head bowed low. He’s dressed rather lightly for the weather, his thin jacket containing a few notable holes in them. The tattoos on his neck give him away—he’s not from [[this side]] of the river.

“‘m sorry, kid. Can ya cancel my order? Don’t think I got enough.” The handsome barista shakes her head, taps the screen a few times, and nods her head over to what must be the pick-up counter. “Don’t worry about it, man,” she says. “Get your ass over there and it’ll be ready for you soon.” Her voice is [[achingly pleasant]]—husky yet with a girlish underpinning.

And then the man shuffles to the pick-up counter and there is nothing standing between you and her. You drag your feet forward, your breath short. “Welcome to The Last Drop,” the beautiful woman says without bothering with an overly cheerful customer service inflection. “[[What’ll it be?]]”

Oh. “Um.” Right. You’re meant to be ordering. You were meant to have been looking at the menu, not the lesbian wet dream in front of the menu. Shit. Maybe you can move your eyes fast enough and something will jump out. You squint. Express— no. Flat… wh— no. Vanilla sweet c— no. The barista raises an eyebrow. It’s– //scarred//. Now you can say you like [[women with scars]].

A small smirk adorns her face. Oh, she’s very pretty. Is that ‘six’ in roman numerals tattooed on her cheek? Her eyes get bigger for a quick second, then she nods. “Sure, six of what?” Oh no. No no no. You didn’t mean to say that. But it’s too late now. Now you have to order six drinks or else it’ll be obvious you were caught staring. You try to nod convincingly, but you can hear the creak of your neck as you do it. “Six…” [[Lavender lattes.]] [[Ristretto.]] [[Flat whites.]]

The barista chuckles. “Not sure what fancy Piltovan coffee shop you usually go to, but we don’t do those here.” Right. Of course. If you had looked at the menu like a customer who isn’t a pain in the arse, you would’ve known this. Your palms— ick. They’re sweaty as you hold your credit card. Maybe another look at the menu will help. Yes. Iced caff— no. Pumpkin sp— no, not that either. “We can do an oatmilk latte though, if that’s your vibe.” “Yes,” you immediately say. You’ve never had an oatmilk latte. “I… love oatmilk lattes. That would be wonderful, [[thank you]].”

The barista chuckles. “Not sure what fancy Piltovan coffee shop you usually go to, but we don’t do those here.” Right. Of course. If you had looked at the menu like a customer who isn’t a pain in the arse, you would’ve known this. Your palms— ick. They’re sweaty as you hold your credit card. Maybe another look at the menu will help. Yes. Iced caff— no. Pumpkin sp— no, not that either. “If you dunno what to get, I’d say we make a mean caramel frappuccino.” “Yes,” you immediately say. You don’t like caramel. “I… do enjoy those. That sounds wonderful, [[thank you]].”

The barista chuckles. “Not sure what fancy Piltovan coffee shop you usually go to, but we don’t do those here.” Right. Of course. If you had looked at the menu like a customer who isn’t a pain in the arse, you would’ve known this. Your palms— ick. They’re sweaty as you hold your credit card. Maybe another look at the menu will help. Yes. Iced caff— no. Pumpkin sp— no, not that either. “I think cappuccinos are kinda similar, right? We could do you one of those.” There are other situations in which she could– no. “Yes,” you immediately say. “Can’t go wrong with that. Sorry for the delay and [[thank you]] so much.”

“Cool,” the other woman says. “That’ll be twenty bucks.” You look at the display next to you, the sweets neatly organized in rows catching your eye. There’s a blue cupcake in particular that looks extremely tempting. Oh, but there’s a cake slice with a strawberry on top that looks divine. But haven’t you already overstayed your welcome as a customer as it is? No, you’ve suffered enough having to be in the presence of such an attractive woman. You deserve a sweet treat. [[Ask for the cupcake.]] [[Ask for the cake.]]

“Actually, can I buy one of those?” you say while pointing at the cupcake. If you decide you’re too embarrassed to ever come back, at least you won’t lament having not eaten it. “They look quite lovely.” “Huh, the frosting almost matches your hair. You’ve got a prettier blue, though,” she says with a wink. “What’s the name for the order?” You brace yourself for this possibly being your last visit here. “Ah, Caitlyn. Though you can just make it for ‘Cait,’ if that’s easier.” The gorgeous woman grins, and— oh, she has a scar on her upper lip. It seems to almost pull her upper lip a bit, making it look fuller. As a result, her expression looks like a pout, and the contrast between it and the fact that she doesn’t seem like the type of woman who’d casually pout makes her face all the more [[captivating]].

“Actually, can I buy that slice of cake?” you say while pointing at it. If you decide you’re too embarrassed to ever come back, at least you won’t lament having not eaten it. “I have a bit of a sweet tooth today.” “Not sweet enough on your own?” she says with a wink. “What’s the name for the order?” You brace yourself for this possibly being your last visit here. “Ah, Caitlyn. Though you can just make it for ‘Cait,’ if that’s easier.” The gorgeous woman grins, and– oh, she has a scar on her upper lip. It seems to almost pull her upper lip a bit, making it look fuller. As a result, her expression looks like a pout, and the contrast between it and the fact that she doesn’t seem like the type of woman who’d casually pout makes her face [[all the more captivating]].

“Okay, Cait-not-Cait. We’ll get your order ready soon, so just wait a bit, okay?” Thank Janna. Perhaps this will be your new favorite coffee shop after all. You nod, offering your card as quickly as possible. She’s handing you your receipt when— //hands//. Your hands. Her hands. Calloused and not all that soft. So unlike the hands you’ve held in hidden corners at galas and in the safety of your room, both in texture and in the way they set your skin alight. She places your [[cupcake]] in a little box and hands it to you before nodding in the direction of the pick-up counter and greeting the next customer.

A slight tremor overtakes your hands as you scroll social media while waiting on your order. Would Googling ‘lesbian barista winked at me what do i do’ be too specific? What if she’s not actually a lesbian and you’re just assuming? Your eyes drift toward the other baristas on hand. There’s a shorter, willowy girl with long blue braids; where the object of your anxieties at the front has a healthy tan to her skin, this girl is quite pale. She’s making the drinks along with a boy with dark skin and locs who seems to be about her age. He’s silent but visibly at peace while the girl with blue hair is talking a mile a minute as she makes drinks with lightning speed. Her voice is raspy and sweet, though she cackles at one point and it pierces the increasing silence in the shop as the line gets smaller and smaller until, finally, there’s no one at the front. “[[Cupcait]]!” the blue-haired girl’s voice rings out as she places two cup carriers filled with your… six drinks.

“Okay, Cait-not-Cait. We’ll get your order ready soon, so just wait a bit, okay?” Thank Janna. Perhaps this will be your new favorite coffee shop after all. You nod, offering your card as quickly as possible. She’s handing you your receipt when— //hands//. Your hands. Her hands. Calloused and not all that soft. So unlike the hands you’ve held in hidden corners at galas and in the safety of your room, both in texture and in the way they set your skin alight. She places your [[slice of cake]] in a little box and hands it to you before nodding in the direction of the pick-up counter and greeting the next customer.

A slight tremor overtakes your hands as you scroll social media while waiting on your order. Would Googling ‘lesbian barista winked at me what do i do’ be too specific? What if she’s not actually a lesbian and you’re just assuming? Your eyes drift toward the other baristas on hand. There’s a shorter, willowy girl with long blue braids; where the object of your anxieties at the front has a healthy tan to her skin, this girl is quite pale. She’s making the drinks along with a boy with dark skin and locs who seems to be about her age. He’s silent but visibly at peace while the girl with blue hair is talking a mile a minute as she makes drinks with lightning speed. Her voice is raspy and sweet, though she cackles at one point and it pierces the increasing silence in the shop as the line gets smaller and smaller until, finally, there’s no one at the front. “[[Caitcake]]!” the blue-haired girl’s voice rings out as she places two cup carriers filled with your… six drinks.

It’s your order, you know it is, but… //Caitcake//? You look at your receipt. Indeed, your name is written as ‘Caitcake.’ You can’t help the giggle that comes out of you, your chest warm and filled with something fluttery. But… hmm. For some reason, the cake isn’t listed in your order. You want to ask about it, but you also don’t want to risk looking any more silly than you already have for today. [[Go to the front and ask about the cake.]] [[Silently put money in the tip jar.]]

It’s your order, you know it is, but… //Cupcait//? You look at your receipt. Indeed, your name is written as ‘Cupcait.’ You can’t help the giggle that comes out of you, your chest warm and filled with something fluttery. But… hmm. For some reason, the cupcake isn’t listed in your order. You want to ask about it, but you also don’t want to risk looking any more silly than you already have for today. [[Go to the front and ask about the cupcake.]] [[Silently put some money in the tip jar.]]

You look at the tip jar on the pick-up counter and put in a ten dollar bill to cover the cupcake and then some. The blue-haired barista looks at you when there’s a lull in her conversation with the other barista, and she asks, “Not that I’m complaining, but what’s that for, toots?” “It seems I wasn’t charged for the cupcake I ordered, so it only feels fair,” you say. “Huh, didja not?” the girl says as chews her gum. “That’s weird. She doesn’t mess up at the cashier. Vi!” //Vi//. You have a name now. You get the confirmation when the shop’s muscular goddess looks over, an eyebrow raised. “Long Legs says you didn’t charge her for the cupcake,” she [[rasps]].

You grab your drinks and tiptoe to the front, back to the most attractive woman you’ve ever seen, to tell her she’s made a mistake. You’re nothing if not Piltover’s most prominent ladykiller. When you reach her, she’s looking down at her phone, but she glances up when you stand in front of her and gives you an easy smile. “What’d you think of your drinks?” “Oh, I’m sure they’re excellent,” you say with what is hopefully a reassuring smile. “There’s a slight issue, though. I got a cupcake but wasn’t charged for it.” “[[Vi]], you messing up orders now?” the boy barista suddenly laughs as he works on a drink. “Don’t give the Pilties more reason to hate our asses.”

You grab your drinks and tiptoe to the front, back to the most attractive woman you’ve ever seen, to tell her she’s made a mistake. You’re nothing if not Piltover’s most prominent ladykiller. When you reach her, she’s looking down at her phone, but she glances up when you stand in front of her and gives you an easy smile. “What’d you think of your drinks?” “Oh, I’m sure they’re excellent,” you say with what is hopefully a reassuring smile. “There’s a slight issue, though. I got a cake but wasn’t charged for it.” “[[Vi]], you messing up orders now?” the boy barista suddenly laughs as he works on a drink. “Don’t give the Pilties more reason to hate our asses.”

You look at the tip jar on the pick-up counter and put in a ten dollar bill to cover the cake and then some. The blue-haired barista looks at you when there’s a lull in her conversation with the other barista, and she asks, “Not that I’m complaining, but what’s that for, toots?” “It seems I wasn’t charged for the slice of cake I ordered, so it only feels fair,” you say. “Huh, didja not?” the girl says as chews her gum. “That’s weird. She doesn’t mess up at the cashier. Vi!” //Vi//. You have a name now. You get the confirmation when the shop’s muscular goddess looks over, an eyebrow raised. “Long Legs says you didn’t charge her for the cake,” she [[rasps]].

//Vi//. You have a name now. You get the confirmation when the shop’s muscular goddess looks over at him. “Shut it, dude,” she says before turning back to you. “I didn’t charge you for it because it’s a gift.” Pardon? “Did I… do something to earn one?” “Well, you didn’t pressure us to make your order quicker,” she shrugs. “That’s more than a lot of your people around here can say.” The boy suddenly slows down what he’s doing to study Vi. [[Accept the kindness to not make a fuss.]] [[Politely reject the kindness – they’re a business and deserve payment for their labor.]]

“Well, I won’t say no to such a kind gesture. Thank you, Vi.” “No problem. We get something out of it too, you know?” “Oh? And what’s that?” “Brightening a nice customer’s day is sometimes better than money.” The boy scoffs before snickering. “You got a little somethin’,” he says as he points to the corner of his mouth before turning away. “Ekko!” Vi says as she glares at him, then turns back to you. Tries to subtly swipe the corner of her mouth with a finger. “I mean, I know my day’s brighter for making [[a pretty girl]] happy.”

You hate to be a bother, but you can’t help the response that comes out. “While I truly am thankful for the gift, I don’t feel like I should be rewarded for being decent.” Vi shrugs. “Decency’s a lot like common sense—not much of it’s common.” You chuckle; she does have a point. “Still, I’d love to pay for it. That’s one cupcake you won’t be making a profit on.” “It’s a reward for us too, you know. A really nice customer brightens our day.” You hear the boy scoff and then snicker. “You got a little somethin’,” he says as he points to the corner of his mouth before turning away. “Ekko!” Vi says as she glares at him, then turns back to you. Tries to subtly swipe the corner of her mouth with a finger. “I mean, my day gets brighter every time I see [[a pretty girl]].”

Your radar isn’t horribly malfunctioning yet then. Good. Great. But something still is certainly malfunctioning at this moment: you. Because yes, this gorgeous fantasy-come-to-life is //flirting// with you. Do you flirt back? Do you brush it off to not be obvious? Is it morally alright to flirt with someone while they’re working? She’s looking at you with a glimmer of hope in her eyes. Lightly tapping her finger on the counter. Perhaps you don’t need to flounder so helplessly this time that you’re speaking with her; maybe you’re the one with the upper hand here. This isn’t Piltover proper, but it doesn’t have to be. [[“Then I’d like to pay as thanks for being served by a beautiful barista.”]] [[“Do you sell sweets because you’re rather sweet yourself?”]] [[“It appears I walked out this morning not knowing gray would become my new favorite color.”]]

You squirm in place as Vi walks over and leans on the counter with her arms crossed. Do not look at her arms. They were designed by Janna specifically to expose you. You will not lose this battle. “That was on purpose,” she grins. “It’s your first time here, yeah? Wanted to make a good impression.” The blue-haired girl puts her hand on her hip, squinting at Vi. [[Accept the kindness to not make a fuss.->1]] [[Politely reject the kindness – they’re a business and deserve payment for their labor.->2]]

“It had been made even before the show of generosity,” you reply. “But thank you, I appreciate it.” “No problem. We sometimes like to do that for our regulars.” You raise your eyebrow. “Oh, but I’m not a regular yet.” “Well… I’m hoping you will be.” Suddenly, the girl next to Vi scoffs, punches Vi’s arm, and walks away while yelling, “Stop being so gay, sis.” “Shut up, Pow,” groans the magenta-haired woman in her direction before turning back to you sheepishly. “Think I’d miss seeing such [[a pretty face]] around here.”

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that,” you say, shaking your head. “I appreciate the cozy atmosphere of your shop already and while I haven’t tried my drinks yet, I’m sure they’re incredible. I really would like to pay you properly.” “No, it’s totally cool, just take it as a gift for choosing us.” “But you just set up shop, yes? I’d like to support you.” “We’re doing fine enough to give away a slice of cake to a nice customer.” Suddenly, the girl next to Vi scoffs, punches Vi’s arm, and walks away while yelling, “Stop being so gay, sis.” “Shut up, Pow,” groans the magenta-haired woman in her direction before turning back to you sheepishly. “And, well, a [[really pretty one->a pretty face]].”

Vi’s eyes look like they’ll pop out of her head for a moment. “You know, I was having a pretty shitty day, but now it isn’t so bad,” she smiles, her pearly white teeth on display. “You should drop by again. If you like the drinks and all.” You take a sip of one of the drinks as you look at her. It’s delightful. Rich without being overpowering. A taste new yet immediately comforting. “So…Caitlyn. What’s your review looking like?” You hum. “It’s just the way I like it,” you say, throwing her a wink back before waving and taking your leave. You walk out of The Last Drop with a pep in your step, a more intentional sway of your hips, and get ready for your first day as a [[Piltover enforcer]].

She doesn’t give a chuckle like you expect; instead, you hear a giggle. It’s awfully endearing, especially when paired with her full-blown smile. “Can’t say I get that much. I don’t go for looking ‘sweet’.” “What do you go for, then?” “Intimidating as fuck, obviously,” Vi says with a smirk as she pats her arms. You decide to take a sip of one of the drinks, your eyes on her. It’s delightful. Rich without being overpowering. A taste new yet immediately comforting. You hum. “Good thing I like a challenge,” you say, throwing her a wink back before waving and taking your leave. You walk out of The Last Drop with a pep in your step, a more intentional sway of your hips, and get ready for your first day as a [[Piltover enforcer]].

She breaks into a wide smile before dipping her head, then looking at you from under her eyelashes. “You know what? I like that one. Makes me feel all special.” “Your eyes are quite special. They certainly leave a lasting impression.” “Lasting enough to convince you to come back soon?” You take a sip of one of the drinks while looking at her. It’s delightful. Rich without being overpowering. A taste new yet immediately comforting. You hum. “Lasting enough to make this my new favorite shop,” you say, throwing her a wink back before waving and taking your leave. You walk out of The Last Drop with a pep in your step, a more intentional sway of your hips, and get ready for your first day as a [[Piltover enforcer]].

Over the next few weeks, you make it a habit to drop by The Last Drop a few times a week. Each day, you leave with a coffee, a sweet treat, and an even sweeter reward: something new about Vi. It started when you pretended to be interested in getting a tattoo and asked her about which tattoos hurt the most. She indulged you by sharing that it was the ones on her elbows, then asked where you were thinking of getting yours. You took advantage of wearing a particularly low cut sports bra on that day and told her you were thinking of getting it under your breast. She told you she’d love to see the design with ears that matched her hair color. Since then, you’ve sort of… made it a habit to ask her a question about herself every time you bought coffee. You never have time for a proper conversation, but these little nuggets of information about the barista fill you with enough joy to tackle paperwork and patrolling with [[much more enthusiasm]].

Your favorite fact about Vi is: [[She actually doesn’t like coffee very much.]] [[She and her sister were adopted by a man known as the Hound of the Underground.]] [[She’s never had a pet but she wants four cats.]]

For someone who helps run a shop dedicated to serving it, Vi doesn’t actually drink coffee. It initially surprised you, though you’ve quickly come to realize she’s a woman full of pleasant surprises. “What appealed to you about working at a coffee shop then?” you asked while taking the first few sips of your drink on a slow morning. You had asked Vi to surprise you, and so she did with a delicious vanilla sweet cream cold brew that made the past ones you’ve tried seem like lightly caffeinated water. The magenta-haired woman cleaned the pick-up counter with a rag while she thought it over. “Well, shit’s not great for you, for one. Withdrawals suck,” she laughed. “But I guess I like knowing it’s [[my choice]].”

You’ve heard of the Hound of the Underground. The revolutionary who led the people of Zaun across the bridge during the riots that resulted in the undercity’s independence ten years ago. Piltoverian law enforcement kept a close eye on him afterwards, though in the time before his untimely death a few years later, you only heard of him leading a fairly quiet life while running a bar. “He taught me everything,” Vi breathed as she made your iced white mocha. “How to throw a punch, how to stand up for myself. But he also taught me I could do more with my hands than just beat people up. Taught me I could be more.” “Was it difficult growing up in his shadow?” you asked as you thought of fundraiser galas and campaigns and [[shouting matches]]..

You wished to bash your head against the wall when, after you asked Vi why she’s never had any pets despite loving animals, she wryly commented that growing up poor in the smog-infested areas of the undercity didn’t make it possible. You thought of the portrait hanging in your foyer, your childhood Dobermans posing with the rest of the family, and hoped for Vi to one day know the joy of having a pet. She then shared that the day she had enough bandwidth to take care of pets, she’d get exactly four cats. When you asked why, she chuckled. “You mean apart from living up to lesbian stereotypes?” “Surely you don’t do that enough already,” you muttered, nodding at her arms. Her evil arms that will one day be your downfall. “Right? Anyway, I feel like I have four siblings—there’s Powder, who’s actually my sister, but there’s also Ekko, the guy you’ve seen working here; Claggor; and Mylo—so it’d be… I dunno, weird, I guess, to not be looking after [[four runts]].”

“Isn't everything a choice?” She chuckled, though the sound didn't have much humor in it. "I don't know about that." You wondered what she meant by that as you placed a $20 bill in the tip jar. After a moment, she hummed. “I could drink coffee. Put other bad shit in my body. Get into fights, steal. Be the trencher people expect me to be. But I don’t want to. So, I don’t.” Nodding, you were unable to resist what you said next. “I’d love to see what you’re like when you actually want something,” you breathed. She smirked, her pouty lips looking particularly endearing. “[[Wouldn’t you like to know->3]].”

You nodded in what you hoped looked like understanding, but you doubted it was convincing. You thought about all the stories Vi and her siblings must share. “Not something I plan to do until I live with a partner, though,” she said, interrupting your thoughts. “Big responsibility and all, don’t you think?” You pondered whether you’re enough of a cat person to enjoy the idea of taking care of four whole felines. But then Vi gave you a free croissant to go with your drink and paired it with a shy smile. Yes, perhaps you’re also eager to live up to [[lesbian stereotypes->3]].

“Not in the way you might think given what he’s known for,” she said as she finished making the drink and putting a lid on the cup. “I wanted to fight, he wanted me to know that fighting’s got a cost. Eventually, I let that go. Now I just want to offer a safe place for folks to come to.” You reached out to take the cup, and if your fingers touch again, who’s to say it wasn’t an accident? “I can’t imagine it’s been easy in the slightest, but I think you sound every bit like this great man you clearly admire.” Vi smiled softly. “You know what, Cupcake? [[Your next order’s on the house->3]], just for that.”

The facts you know about Vi are trivial, but they’re like little pieces of candy you’re gradually acquiring and placing in the jar that is your heart for safekeeping. You pluck one whenever you need something to brighten your day, and then you put it back so that you can do it again and again. You feel like a child, but perhaps nothing besides ‘childish’ can describe the happiness you feel after seeing her. It’s possible that ‘childish’ is also perhaps the only way to describe how you feel when everything goes wrong. It happens on the day you change your routine. You usually go to The Last Drop after the gym but before work, so that you can sip your coffee on the way back home and feel energized for the day. This time, you’re on the job and feeling exhausted from a night of restless sleep, so you take a break from making arrests to buy yourself a cup. Seeing Vi can only [[make your day better]].

You’re waiting in line, a few people in front of you, when a man at the front begins to raise his voice. “No whipped dalgona, no maple pecan latte, not even avocado coffee,” he shouts, throwing his hands up. “What kind of lowly establishment is this?” Vi is alone this time, her fellow baristas nowhere to be seen. She’s wearing a scowl on her face. It’s very unfortunate that she’s upset, but the expression makes her look all the more attractive. You don’t have it in you to be disappointed in yourself for this thought. You are, however, disappointed in this man for his tirade; hopefully it’ll be over soon. “It’s a coffee shop, and if you don’t like it, you can leave,” says Vi, sounding more annoyed than angry. She’s cleaning a glass with a rag, focusing on getting it perfect. “Is this how you treat every customer who is dissatisfied with your [[menu]]?!”

She doesn’t look up as she says, “No, just the ones who clearly never meant to buy anything in the first place.” “Never meant to— I will have you know, I have never before experienced such appalling rudeness at any place in Piltover.” “Then go to any of the other places with better service,” she says as she gently puts down the cup. “Now, if that’s all, there’s a line behind you, my guy.” The man sputters, then smooths down his jacket as he looks around the shop. He scoffs, looking down at Vi before saying: “I should have known this is the kind of service one receives at a place run by [[trencher trash]],” he spits.

Vi immediately looks up at him, fury etched on the lines of her face as slaps her palms on the counter and grits out, “Fuck. You.” “Manners do not come naturally to your kind, do they not?” “I’ll show you what kind of manners fissure folk have if you don’t get the fuck out of my shop.” That’s it. You need to step in before this escalates any further. [[Focus on calming down the rude man.]] [[Focus on calming down Vi.]]

You march up to the front and face the man. “Sir, I’d suggest following her suggestion and leaving before you get in trouble.” “And who are you supposed to be?!” he shouts as he whirls around. “An officer who can arrest you for disorderly conduct. Right now, it’s a suggestion, but I’m happy to make it an order.” You hear a small gasp coming from Vi’s direction. When you look at her, her brows are furrowed and she looks at you with narrowed eyes. Gray and unforgiving like steel. “You’re an //enforcer//?” she hisses. You pause. You do suppose it’s the first time you’ve come during your workday. But you can't guess as to why that's the thing she's focusing on. The dreadful man interrupts your train of thought when he yells, “If you wish to do your job of protecting Piltover, then rid it of rats like [[this one]].”

You hurry up to the front and face Vi. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle this and get him out of your way.” She turns away from the man to look at you. Her eyes flit back to him for a second, but then they turn back to you, gray and unforgiving like steel. They narrow as she examines you from head to toe, her brows furrowed. “You’re an //enforcer//?” she hisses. You pause. You do suppose it’s the first time you’ve come during your workday. But why is her scowl now directed at you when you’re on her side? The scowl only becomes deeper as she asks, “What? Gonna tell me I should shut up?” “I— no. I mean– you don’t have to, but I’d recommend it. Threatening him does you no favors and you have a reputation with clientele to [[protect]].”

“If I was, I’d piss on everything you own,” Vi seethes at him. “You insolent little–” “Alright, that’s enough,” you announce, grabbing the man’s arm and shoving him to the door. “You’re taking a walk. Let’s go.” He demands to see your badge, invokes your mother, and hurls curses at you as you drag him outside. He’s got a lot of bark, but despite being even taller than you, he’s a weak man. Once you’re outside, he rids himself of your hold as he stumbles back into the street. “I’m giving you a warning,” you say while rearranging your watch. “If you show your face around here again, you won’t be so lucky. Off you go now before I call for backup.” “How the mighty enforcers have fallen,” he sneers. He aims to spit at the soles of your boots before stampeding away, but he misses by an inch. [[Another lovely day on the job]].

You let out a sigh. Handling petty disputes like this on patrol is taking its toll. How much longer will Marcus give you useless busy work instead of putting you to work on real cases that matter? On making a difference so that arsholes like this no longer feel arrogant enough to subject others to their cruelty? You’re a Kiramman. Breathe in, breathe out. You turn and walk back into the shop. Some of those sitting down stop sipping their drinks to stare at you as you face them. Shit. Perhaps you didn’t handle that as gracefully as you could have. Hopefully, the shop’s reputation won’t take a hit. You would hate for all of Vi’s and her siblings’ hard work to be thwarted by arseholes causing spectacles. You walk up to the front as Vi’s typing on her phone. “Vi, I’m so sorry you had to deal with that. He shouldn’t be a problem again.” Vi looks up for a moment, then glances back at her phone and keeps typing. She’s quiet for a moment before she mutters, “Not the only thing you should be [[apologizing for->Cupcake]].”

“So he can hit me but I can’t hit back? The fuck” “No– that’s– I’m saying this wrong,” you sigh. “Just, please calm down and I’ll get this sorted.” “Mutts like this one do not know how to calm down, officer,” the dreadful man gruffs. “That’s enough from you,” you seethe as you turn to him, grabbing the man’s arm and shoving him to the door. “You’re taking a walk. Let’s go.” He demands to see your badge, invokes your mother, and hurls curses at you as you drag him outside. He’s got a lot of bark, but despite being even taller than you, he’s a weak man. Once you’re outside, he rids himself of your hold as he stumbles back into the street. “I’m giving you a warning. If you show your face around here again, you won’t be so lucky. Off you go now before I call for backup.” “How the mighty enforcers have fallen,” he sneers. He aims to spit at the soles of your boots before stampeding away, but he misses by an inch. [[Another lovely day on the job]].

What? She… wants you to apologize? For doing your job? “I think I’m confused,” you say, unable to hold back from wringing your hands. “What should I be apologizing for, exactly?” Vi puts her phone down and looks back up at you. “I think you should get your coffee somewhere else.” What on earth? Alright, so she seems distrusting of enforcers at best. But have your conversations not earned you any goodwill? Did you not kick the man out for her? Was she perhaps… not interested this whole time? You open your mouth to respond when she nods her head in the direction behind you. You step aside. But you’re not done with this conversation yet. [[“Surely I’m not the only enforcer you’ve ever served here.”]] [[“Is this really the thanks I get for helping you out?”]]

“Surely I’m not the only enforcer you’ve ever served here,” you say while forcing a muted chuckle. Vi says nothing to you as the customer comes up and makes his order. She’s the perfect picture of politeness, inputting the order and processing the payment while ignoring your presence. When the customer makes her way to the pick-up counter, you stand in front of Vi again. “I only intended to help. If it’s not too much trouble, could you explain what I did wrong?” Vi continues to be silent as she goes to make the order, the whirring of the machines your [[only answer]].

“Is this really the thanks I get? Perhaps I didn’t do it perfectly, but I only meant to help.” Vi says nothing to you as the customer comes up and makes his order. She’s the perfect picture of politeness, inputting the order and processing the payment while ignoring your presence. When the customer makes her way to the pick-up counter, you stand in front of Vi again. “I can tell you’re angry. If it’s not too much trouble, could you explain what I did wrong?” Vi continues to be silent as she goes to make the order, the whirring of the machines your [[only answer]].

She has another thing coming if she thinks you’ll give up that easily. You head over to the pick-up area to wait for the customer to get her coffee. Vi approaches the counter to give her the order. “Vi. Could you please stop ignoring me?” She meets your eyes, finally. Crosses her beautiful arms, then says, “Get your coffee somewhere else,” with a frown on her equally beautiful face before [[turning away]].

As Vi stomps over to the backroom, Powder opens it from the other side. Vi shoulders past her while barely throwing her a glance, prompting the blue-haired barista to stare at her back with her eyebrows raised. “Sheesh, what’s gotten her panties in a bunch?” she muses. She moves to take over the cashier. But then she spots you and pauses. Looks you up and down, slowly whistling all the while with a raised eyebrow. She does just that but actually says nothing. Great. Two sisters, so different yet so alike in having fun with making you beg for answers. [[“Are you also feeling slighted by me being an enforcer?”]] [[“Does your sister hate me?”]]

Powder blows a bubble and lets it pop. Thinks for a moment, then shrugs. “Nah, though I figured there had to be something to ya, Miss Prim and Perfect. Anyway, whatcha wanna order?” Well, that’s lovely. Clearly, they’ve discussed you before and will discuss you the moment you walk out. Might as well save yourself the humiliation and leave now. “Nothing, thank you,” you say. “I hope you have a good rest of your day, Powder.” As you turn and make your way to the doors, you hear her say, “See ya later, toots!” [[You don’t suppose that’ll be the case]].

Powder blows a bubble and lets it pop. Thinks for a moment, then shrugs. “Might be a while before she’s hunky dory again. But hate’s a strong word. Anyway, whatcha wanna order?” Well, that’s lovely. Clearly, they’ve discussed you before and will discuss you the moment you walk out. Might as well save yourself the humiliation and leave now. “Nothing, thank you,” you say. “I hope you have a good rest of your day, Powder.” As you turn and make your way to the doors, you hear her say, “See ya later, toots!” [[You don’t suppose that’ll be the case]].

You’re nearing the end of your shift when you let yourself think about her again a week later. You had asked Marcus to put you on an undercity patrol for the week; to your surprise, he didn’t simply ignore you. The reasoning becomes clear after a few days: nobody volunteers for the undercity patrol. The undercity is both nothing and everything like you imagined it to be. You’re forced to wear a gas mask, the air so thick it must clog your pores. The factories littered about the streets are towering, but many of its denizens are found low on the ground, huddling in [[corners]].

A child playing with a broken doll, her parents nowhere to be seen. Her eyes shake as she sees you and she curls into herself, hugging her doll tightly. A man pouring shimmer into his mouth as his hands cradle the vial as if it was his salvation. He pulls at his hair as he rocks back and forth, the veins under his skin visibly pulsing with the neon purple liquid. It’s… sickening. Not them, but their circumstances. The streets are so different here. Why hasn’t your mother done something about this? What does she do for work if it’s not coming up with solutions for tragedy? What can you do to help? Is there anything you can do to help? Or is Vi right? Would you only make it [[worse]]?

You hear a woman groaning in pain before you reach the next corner and see her. She has dark grey hair and eyes so blue that they remind you of narrowed slits followed by admonishments for your poor posture or your social awkwardness at balls. She’s clutching her enlarged belly, sweating profusely despite the chill in the air. A frail older man is shakily dabbing her forehead with a handkerchief as he mumbles, seemingly to encourage her to get up. [[Call out to your coworkers for support.]]

Shit. You can’t remember their names. Whatever. “Wait,” you call out in their direction. “That woman needs help.” The two men continue walking. The smog doesn’t swallow their snickers. You jog to catch up with them, then stand in front of them. “She’s pregnant and needs assistance. We need to get her to a—” “We’re not your fucking lapdogs, [[Kiramman]],” says the one with brown hair. “We’re not your fancy staff, either.” If only they would get new insults.

“Adonis, chill,” says the other one—blond and with a half-empty water bottle in his hand. “Kiramman wants our help. The lady always gets what she wants.” He walks over to the pair on the ground, Adonis in tow. And then he uncaps his water bottle and pours it over their heads. “There, some refreshment,” he laughs, Adonis’ cackles joining his. “You rats are in need of a bath, ain’t you?” The woman begins to whimper, the man beside her trembling as he glares at your coworkers – with rage or fear, you do not know. Either one would be understandable. Has Vi heard worse from enforcers? Has she suffered more than just words? [[Intervene and tell them to fuck off.]] [[Don’t intervene – they might get angry and retaliate against the pair.]]

“What the hell are you doing?!” You feel yourself shake as they continue to snicker. Adonis turns to you and says, “What? We’re just good samaritans helping out.” The words come out before you can think twice. “You’re pieces of shit, is what you are,” you spit. The blond one sneers at you. “Watch it, Kiramman. Keep that up and Marcus’ll hear of it.” “And I’ll tell him that you’re being monsters to people who don’t [[deserve it]].”

If you get aggressive with them, they might only become worse and take it out on the pair. No, it’s best to just let them get bored and move on. As expected, they turn around after some snickering and start walking away. You feel yourself shake as you look at their backs—maybe you can get them in trouble. Yes. You’ll go back and report them for being such absolute fucking monsters. It’s the least that they deserve. The woman sniffles, the man wiping her face with his sleeve. You move to help them, but they recoil in response. You try again, but they incline their bodies further away. Alright, [[a different tactic]] then.

“You’re good at that, ain’t ya?” Adonis scoffs. “Bet you tattle-taled to Mommy and Daddy growing up, now you’re gonna do it with the sheriff.” “You don’t know anything about me. Or about these people. You should be ashamed of yourselves.” The blond one rolls his eyes and looks over at Adonis, nodding his head in the opposite direction. The two begin to walk away. “Have fun getting back on your own,” he throws over his shoulder. “Maybe your sumprat friends’ll help.” The woman sniffles, and you turn to see the man wiping her face with his sleeve. Right. They don’t need your verbal sparring; they need [[your help]].

You carefully move toward the pair. When neither of them react to your proximity, you nod at him and put her arm around your shoulder. She’s a bit heavy, but together you’re able to get her on her feet. “My father is a surgeon at Piltover Memorial,” you say while holding her weight. “If we can get her there, he’ll be able to help her.” The man stares at you for a long moment, his face haggard. “A good enforcer. Guess I’ve seen everything now,” he chuckles. “The name’s Roald. She’s Ana.” “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. I’m Caitlyn.” “Caitlyn. You— you wouldn’t mind?” “Not at all. I don’t fully know my way around the undercity yet, but if you can lead us out, I’ll take us there and handle the rest.” “Thank you, Miss,” groans Ana. She nods as if to steel herself for the journey. “Let’s get a move on, then. This little pumpkin’s dyin’ to come out.” You give her a firm nod, then let Roald lead [[the way]].

You keep thinking about the woman in the following days. The patrols take you elsewhere throughout the undercity, but you almost expect to see her around a random corner, in pain and in need. The experience solidifies your inkling that Vi wasn’t unjustified in her reaction, and so you make a plan. You take a few weeks to make: [[Cupcakes.]] [[A cake.]]

You take out money from the pockets of your dress and your notepad. You write a few words: ‘//Please assist this woman, I found her in the undercity. She needs help. —Caitlyn//” And add your signature at the bottom. Then give both items to the man. “If you can, please bring her to [[Piltover Memorial]],” you say. “Ask for Tobias Kiramman and give him this paper; he’ll take care of her.”

The woman narrows her eyes at you—again, so familiar—and the man outright glares at you. He scoffs, then proceeds to spit on your shoe. He doesn’t miss. “Don’t need your pity,” he snarls. At that moment, you know your coworkers only get farther away, but it’s almost as if they were here—as if they dumped the bottle of cold water on you. You look back toward them, now specks in the distance. You should go. Yes, you should— you should follow them before you end up stranded. The woman’s eyes are still narrowed when you look at her one last time before [[running away]].

You don’t want to overwhelm Vi with something huge, so you make a bunch of cupcakes. Preparing them reminds you of one of your many short conversations. She had shared that Powder cried often when they were little, and eventually Vi figured out a sure fire solution: making her cupcakes. She would get up early, before her adoptive father and before any of her siblings, and spend hours in the kitchen making dozens of them. When Powder would have a bad day again, she’d only have to reach for Vi’s cupcakes to stop crying. You hope she’ll appreciate someone making something for her for [[a change]].

What’s the saying? Go big or go home? And a Kiramman never does anything half-assed. So you decide to make her a cake. Preparing them reminds you of one of your many short conversations. She had shared that food was a tricky thing for her growing up. They rarely had the money to afford the meals they wanted, so she learned to dissociate the need for a meal to taste good from her need to eat it for sustenance. Not all her siblings were able to do the same. So as a reward for their efforts, whenever she got the chance, she would bake a big cake for all of them to share. They would clamor over her cakes every time—her first and most loyal customers. You hope she’ll appreciate someone making something for her [[for a change]].

You return to the shop almost a month after you last visited it. It’s the evening after you’ve worked your shift – you run back home, change out of your enforcer uniform, rush down to the kitchens to take the cupcakes out of the freezer, and hastily make your way to The Last Drop. You’re thankful for your long legs making the trip quicker, but even with your speed, you make it there only a few minutes before closing time. You peer into the shop and your eyes immediately catch that captivating not-pink, not-red hue. Vi is alone, her demeanor relaxed as she cleans tables and puts up chairs. Her lips are moving as she seems to be singing a song. In this moment, it’s hard to think of how your last interaction went as much as the nights before that, when you had trouble sleeping because you were so excited to see her the following day. Her lips suddenly stop moving. Why– ah. Her eyes have drifted in your direction. She stares at you with her mouth slightly agape. After a moment, she makes her way to you and opens the door, its chime ringing as it slides open. “We’re closed. Come back tomorrow.” [[“That’s alright. I’m here for you, not the shop.”->4]] [[“Could we talk?”->5]]

You return to the shop almost a month after you last visited it. It’s the evening after you’ve worked your shift – you run back home, change out of your enforcer uniform, rush down to the kitchens to take the cake out of the freezer, and hastily make your way to The Last Drop. You’re thankful for your long legs making the trip quicker, but even with your speed, you make it there only a few minutes before closing time. You peer into the shop and your eyes immediately catch that captivating not-pink, not-red hue. Vi is alone, her demeanor relaxed as she cleans tables and puts up chairs. Her lips are moving as she seems to be singing a song. In this moment, it’s hard to think of how your last interaction went as much as the nights before that, when you had trouble sleeping because you were so excited to see her the following day. Her lips suddenly stop moving. Why– ah. Her eyes have drifted in your direction. She stares at you with her mouth slightly agape. After a moment, she makes her way to you and opens the door, its chime ringing as it slides open. “We’re closed. Come back tomorrow.” [[“That’s alright. I’m here for you, not the shop.”->6]] [[“Could we talk?”->7]]

“That’s alright. I’m here for you, not the shop.” She raises a bold eyebrow. “Me? Why?” “Because I’d really like to speak with you, if you’d let me,” you say, then lift up your box. Vi seems a bit startled when she looks at the box. Her eyes go back and forth between it and you for a few moments. “I made you cupcakes, if you think it would make it worth your while,” you continue. “You need only listen to me for a few minutes, and they’re yours.” She thinks about it for a moment, [[then nods]].

She raises a bold eyebrow. “About what?” “About… how things ended last time. It’s been on my mind and, well, I wanted to have a conversation, if you’d be amenable to that,” you say, then lift up the box. Vi seems a bit startled when she looks at the box. Her eyes go back and forth between it and you for a few moments. “I made you cupcakes, if you think it would make it worth your while,” you continue. “You need only listen to me for a few minutes, and they’re yours.” She thinks about it [[for a moment]], then nods.

“That’s alright. I’m here for you, not the shop.” She raises a bold eyebrow. “Me? Why?” “Because I’d really like to speak with you, if you’d let me,” you say, then lift up your box. Vi seems a bit startled when she looks at the box. Her eyes go back and forth between it and you for a few moments. “I made you a cake, if you think it would make it worth your while,” you continue. “You need only listen to me for a few minutes, and it's yours.” She thinks about it for a moment, then [[nods]].

She raises a bold eyebrow. “About what?” “About… how things ended last time. It’s been on my mind and, well, I wanted to have a conversation, if you’d be amenable to that,” you say, then lift up the box. Vi seems a bit startled when she looks at the box. Her eyes go back and forth between it and you for a few moments. “I made you a cake, if you think it would make it worth your while,” you continue. “You need only listen to me for a few minutes, and it’s yours.” She thinks about it for [[a moment]], then nods.

“Give me a minute and I’ll be right out,” she says, then walks back into the shop to put up the last few chairs. You wait outside for a while, your fingers drumming on the box. If it weren’t for the warm light from the streetlamps and the inside of the coffee shop, you would feel unnerved. The moon is shrouded by clouds, its light largely absent down here. A few fireflies dance in the air, chaotic and frantic; free and honest. Eventually, Vi comes out and turns to lock the door. She looks at you, extends her hand out. “Lead the way, [[princess->princess cupcakes]].”

“Princess?” you ask as you fall into step beside her, walking along the edge of the river. “You’re a Kiramman, yeah? That’s as much royalty as it gets topside,” Vi says, shrugging. So, not making fun of you then; just pointing out how you look no matter how much you try to hide it. “And how did you find that out?” She shrugs. “Sometimes a girl’s really curious about another girl and she Googles. Sorry if I shouldn’t have done that, though.” [[“I wish you hadn’t, but it’s alright.”]] [[“Is that why you always gave me free items?”]]

“Princess?” you ask as you fall into step beside her, walking along the edge of the river. “You’re a Kiramman, yeah? That’s as much royalty as it gets topside,” Vi says, shrugging. So, not making fun of you then; just pointing out how you look no matter how much you try to hide it. “And how did you find that out?” She shrugs. “Sometimes a girl’s really curious about another girl and she Googles. Sorry if I shouldn’t have done that, though.” [[“I wish you hadn’t, but it’s alright.”->8]] [[“Is that why you always gave me free items?”->9]]

“If I can be honest, I wish you hadn’t, but it’s alright.” “Really? Isn’t that the kinda thing you’d want people to know?” You think about your parents and the tutoring lessons they’d fill your schedule with since you started going to school. Meeting Jayce after they took him up as their protege – about when he brought you trinkets from the undercity but never took you there during his visits. Perhaps you’re luckier than most; many people don’t have even that. And yet… “Truthfully, I’d like to be just Caitlyn.” you say as you both reach a bench. You place the box in the middle then sit on one side, Vi coming to sit on the opposite. “My name creates… expectations, and breaking out of them is difficult.” “Which is why you became a cop and not a politician,” Vi whistles, laying her arm across the back of the bench. “Imagine that [[went well]].”

“Is my last name the reason why you gave me something free every time I dropped by?” Vi laughs. “Oh, I don’t give a shit about that. No, it’s ‘cause you were always super nice. Nice and really attractive.” You lift your hand to your head– thank Janna, your hair is down. You can get away with any redness on your face resulting from the cold and not the warmth that tingles your skin. “Your last name doesn’t mean anything to me, if I’m honest,” Vi continues. “I’m sump-scum, remember?” “Please don’t call yourself that,” you grimace as you both reach a bench. You place the box in the middle then sit on one side, Vi coming to sit on the opposite. “You’re a person like any other. If I had the choice, I would have liked to not be a Kiramman.” “Okay, so what you’re not gonna do, is tell me how hard it is to be rich,” Vi chuckles, laying her arm across the back of the bench. “Do imagine not becoming a politician has been [[trickier]], though.”

“Is my last name the reason why you gave me something free every time I dropped by?” Vi laughs. “Oh, I don’t give a shit about that. No, it’s ‘cause you were always super nice. Nice and really attractive.” You lift your hand to your head– thank Janna, your hair is down. You can get away with any redness on your face resulting from the cold and not the warmth that tingles your skin. “Your last name doesn’t mean anything to me, if I’m honest,” Vi continues. “I’m sump-scum, remember?” “Please don’t call yourself that,” you grimace as you both reach a bench. You place the box in the middle then sit on one side, Vi coming to sit on the opposite. “You’re a person like any other. If I had the choice, I would have liked to not be a Kiramman.” “Okay, so what you’re not gonna do, is tell me how hard it is to be rich,” Vi chuckles, laying her arm across the back of the bench. “Do imagine [[not becoming a politician]] has been trickier, though.”

You hum, then turn to open the box. Vi peers into it, staring at what’s inside. [[“Be honest: do they look bad?”]] [[“I know perhaps I haven’t earned it, but if you could spare my feelings if they look terrible, I’d appreciate it.”]]

You hum, then turn to open the box. Vi peers into it, staring at what’s inside. [[“Be honest: does it look bad?”]] [[“I know perhaps I haven’t earned it, but if you could spare my feelings if it looks terrible, I’d appreciate it.”]]

Vi chuckles. “Okay, then they look great. Actually, I'm pretty sure everyone's been doing cupcakes wrong until now.” You groan. “That doesn’t feel better somehow. I promise I tried. I made three before this, and this was the best I could do before I talked myself out of seeing you.” “Gonna be real: that’s so sweet that they almost don’t look so bad anymore, actually.” Perhaps this plan might work, [[after all]].

Vi chuckles. “Honestly, they look kinda shit, yeah.” You groan. “I’m sorry! I made three before this, and this was the best I could do before I talked myself out of seeing you.” “Gonna be real: that’s so sweet that they almost don’t look so bad anymore, actually.” Perhaps this plan might work, [[after all]].

Vi chuckles. “Honestly, it looks kinda shit, yeah.” You groan. “I’m sorry! I made three before this, and this was the best I could do before I talked myself out of seeing you.” “Gonna be real: that’s so sweet that it almost doesn’t look so bad anymore, actually.” Perhaps this plan might work, after all.

Vi chuckles. “Okay, then it looks great. The cakes I’ve seen my whole life are just really sad imitations of this true delicacy. Cakes are //supposed// to look slanted.” You groan. “That doesn’t feel better somehow. I promise I tried. I made three before this, and this was the best I could do before I talked myself out of seeing you.” “Gonna be real: that’s so sweet that it almost doesn’t look so bad anymore, actually.” Perhaps this plan [[might work]], after all.

It’s quiet for a while. The river hums—the stream isn’t a song but rather a quiet murmur. On some days, the river flows rather ferociously, as if it carries the anger and pain of the people of the undercity. The river protects them from Piltover, but it also washes it all away into the sea. “Will say though, tastes great,” Vi says while licking frosting off her fingers. “Fancy yourself quitting the force and becoming a baker?” Your eyes trace her glistening fingers, but you force them to return to the cake and take a careful bite. She’s right—the presentation is lackluster and clumsy, but the taste itself isn’t bad. The texture is soft and the taste is sweet without being overbearing; comforting. You chuckle. “You’re not just saying that to [[be kind]], are you?”

“Well, I’m not gonna waste time talking when I could be eating,” she says. “Got any napkins?” Shit. “I— no. I forgot. I’m sorry about that too now, I suppose.” Vi shrugs, then rummages through her apron’s pockets for a moment. She smiles briefly before she pulls out napkins. She grabs one cupcake, puts it on a napkin, then hands it to you, and does the same for [[herself]].

“Nope,” Vi replies, popping the ‘p’. “You seem like the type of girl who’s good at everything she does.” “You say this as you’re eating a discombobulated pastry.” “Doesn’t need to be perfect to be good,” Vi immediately counters. She pauses for a moment. “And I’m not just being nice because you already know I’m a shit liar,” she continues. Right. You’ve [[delayed]] this long enough.

“Speaking of which… I deeply apologize for causing that reaction out of you that day,” you exhale. “I was sold the idea that an enforcer exists to protect people. But in the past month since I’ve joined the force, I can see that may not be how enforcers normally work.” Vi is quiet for a moment as she chews. “It’s not ‘maybe,’ it just isn’t the way they work. Tell me, you know about the fucker who shot someone trying to free a dolphin? Just because they were trespassing on the wrong damn side of the river? How he also beat some undercity guy so bad that his eye socket cracked? We all know him down there—he still has a job.” The moon has partly peeked through the clouds now, its faint light shining on the asphalt of the ground under your feet. Is the moon showing itself to laugh at you? At your ignorance? You wouldn’t [[blame it]].

“Well, I’m not gonna waste time talking when I could be eating,” she says. “Got any utensils?” Shit. “I— no. I forgot. I’m sorry about that too now, I suppose.” Vi shrugs, then rummages through her apron’s pockets for a moment. She smiles briefly before she pulls out a fork and two napkins and carves a piece of the cake. She puts it on one napkin, then hands it to you, and does the same with the other napkin for herself. When she’s done, she gives you the fork before beginning to eat the cake [[with her hands]].

“I didn’t know about him,” you say. “And I won’t put the burden of education on you, either. I’ve been visiting the undercity in the last few weeks to learn things for myself. To understand why you were so angry with me.” Vi chuckles as she takes out another napkin from her apron and gives it to you. She then takes another one out and cleans her hands. “Liked our coffee that much?” [[“I love a good mystery even more.”]] [[“It’s hard to find good coffee.”]]

You let yourself laugh a little as you take the napkin. You don’t need it, but you appreciate the gesture. “While your coffee is marvelous, I do love a good mystery even more.” She smiles at you, teeth and all, and it robs you of your breath. In that moment, under the embrace of the moon, you feel as if you see her in her entirety – the tightness of her long-sleeved shirt and the fullness of her cheeks. The scars on her face and the delicate redness of the tip of her roman nose from the cold. The unabashed question in her eyes, but the openness, too. “So? What’d [[you find]]?”

You let yourself laugh a little as you take the napkin. You don’t need it, but you appreciate the gesture. “While your coffee is marvelous, I do love a good mystery even more.” She smiles at you, teeth and all, and it robs you of your breath. In that moment, under the embrace of the moon, you feel as if you see her in her entirety—the tightness of her long-sleeved shirt and the fullness of her cheeks. The scars on her face and the delicate redness of the tip of her roman nose from the cold. The unabashed question in her eyes, but the openness, too. “So? What’d [[you find]]?”

You let yourself laugh a little as you take the napkin. You don’t need it, she gave you her only utensil, but you appreciate the gesture. “While your coffee is marvelous, I do love a good mystery even more.” She smiles at you, teeth and all, and it robs you of your breath. In that moment, under the embrace of the moon, you feel as if you see her in her entirety—the tightness of her long-sleeved shirt and the fullness of her cheeks. The scars on her face and the delicate redness of the tip of her roman nose from the cold. The unabashed question in her eyes, but the openness, too. “So? [[What’d you find]]?”

You let yourself laugh a little as you take the napkin. You don’t need it, she gave you her only utensil, but you appreciate the gesture. “It’s hard to find good coffee.” She smiles at you, teeth and all, and it robs you of your breath. In that moment, under the embrace of the moon, you feel as if you see her in her entirety—the tightness of her long-sleeved shirt and the fullness of her cheeks. The scars on her face and the delicate redness of the top of her roman nose from the cold. The unabashed question in her eyes, but the openness, too. “So? [[What’d you find]]?”

You tell her about all you saw on your patrols; about what happened that day with Adonis and the other enforcer. “When I got back to the station, I told the sheriff about their conduct. I was reprimanded for ‘attempting to sabotage my coworkers’ and sent home for the day,” you exhale. “What,” she gasps. “That’s insane. Just for… what, not falling in line with those assholes?” You shrug. “That’s fucked,” Vi says, scratching her head. “Not surprised they punished you for doing the right thing, but still. Fucking sucks.” “It’s alright. It made me realize something important, and for that, I’m grateful.” “And what’s that?” [[“That I want to quit the enforcers.”->12]] [[“That I want to rise up in the ranks enough to reform the force.”->13]]

You tell her about all you saw on your patrols; about what happened that day with Adonis and the other enforcer. “When I got back to the station, I told the sheriff about their conduct. I was reprimanded for ‘attempting to sabotage my coworkers’ and sent home for the day,” you exhale. “What,” she gasps. “That’s insane. Just for… what, not falling in line with those assholes?” You shrug. “That’s fucked,” Vi says, scratching her head. “Not surprised they punished you for doing the right thing, but still. Fucking sucks.” “It’s alright. It made me realize something important, and for that, I’m grateful.” “And what’s that?” [[“That I want to quit the enforcers.”]] [[“That I want to rise up in the ranks enough to reform the force.”]]

“I want to quit the enforcers,” you say. “I see the name for what it is now: enforcing the status quo, no matter how cruel. I grew up wanting to do this, but I no longer want to be a part of it anymore.” “Shit. Could’ve told you that if you just asked,” Vi smirks. Her eyes then dim, a frown overtaking her face. “In a way, I guess you did. And I didn’t give you a shot. I’m sorry.” “No, it’s alright. You had no reason to. I don’t know the details of the pain the enforcers have caused you, but you were right to [[feel hurt]].”

“I want to get to the top and reform the enforcers,” you say. “I see the name for what it is now: enforcing the status quo, no matter how cruel. My mentor was the best of them, but she died before she could make meaningful change. I want to be the one to create that change.” “There’s no reforming a system like that, cupcake. It’s rotten, right down to the core.” “Then I’ll tear it down and rebuild it, piece by piece. I’ll make it into an organization of peacekeeping, not enforcing.” Vi scoffs, less with malice and more with disbelief. “And you’ll do that all by yourself?” Her voice echoes the words that have rattled around in your brain the last few weeks. They bubble to the surface of your mind again and— no. That won’t do. Nothing will get done like this. And you’re not going to do nothing [[any longer]].

Vi’s eyes shine with gratitude as she takes another piece of cake and begins digging in. “Somehow, it tastes better the more you eat it,” she chuckles and throws you a wink. “Thanks for the cake.” The wink reminds you of the first day you stepped into The Last Drop, which feels as if it was both yesterday and forever ago. The clouds in the night sky are dispersing now; for a moment, it seemed like a storm was on the way. But maybe you’ve already weathered it. Perhaps the storm is sitting next to you, equally capable of terrifying you into action as it is [[reassuring]].

Vi’s eyes shine with gratitude as she takes another cupcake and begins digging in. “Somehow, it tastes better the more you eat it,” she chuckles and throws you a wink. “Thanks for the upcakes.” The wink reminds you of the first day you stepped into The Last Drop, which feels as if it was both yesterday and forever ago. The clouds in the night sky are dispersing now; for a moment, it seemed like a storm was on the way. But maybe you’ve already weathered it. Perhaps the storm is sitting next to you, equally capable of terrifying you into action as it [[is reassuring]].

“I have to try. Someone has to,” you say. Vi looks toward the river and leans forward, her elbows on her knees. “You know, I don’t know if that makes you the best enforcer or the worst one there’s ever been,” Vi says after a while, a soft smile gracing her face. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” she continues. “I overreacted and didn’t give you a shot.” “No, it’s alright. You had no reason to. I don’t know the details of the pain the enforcers have caused you, but you were right to [[feel hurt]].”

Storms have never affected you before. Within the gilded walls of the Kiramman mansion, it’s impossible to feel their effects; to fear a lightning strike or shiver from the sound of thunder. To marvel at their power. Maybe you will step out onto the balcony the next time it storms. When you look back over to Vi, she has a crumb on the corner of her mouth. [[Leave it.->14]] [[Wipe it off.->15]]

You decide to leave it, unsure of where you two stand. You don’t want to be too forward or make assumptions. “The stuff about why I don’t like enforcers, that’s, like, third date material,” Vi says as she continues to eat. “We haven’t even had our first.” Or perhaps they’re less assumptions and more… instincts. Someone not to write off, but to become more in tune with. The sentence trickles from your mouth: “I didn’t know a first was on the table.” She then turns to look at you, her eyes slowly tracing your face. “There’s a pastry shop in Zaun. Just a hole in the wall, but everything in there tastes like a dream. Can I take you there [[sometime]]?”

You reach out to softly dab away the crumb from her face before you overthink it. There, all gone. You move to retreat your hand, but then Vi grabs it with her own. She gently lowers it and proceeds to study your hand, tracing the lines on the skin with her larger fingers. Turning it this way and that, delicately pressing her fingers on top of yours. Gray eyes, soft and distracting like smoke, meet yours. “Not that I don’t appreciate all the effort you went through to bake me something, but there’s a pastry shop in Zaun. Just a hole in the wall, but everything in there tastes like a dream. Can I take you there [[sometime]]?”

You’ve been consuming sweets this whole time, and yet none of it has tasted quite this sweet. “Well, I have to scope out the competition, don’t I?” you giggle. “And I’m the only one who can judge whose baking is better, so you have to take me along,” she chuckles. You allow your eyes to roam over her lovely face. The confident glimmer in her eyes, the ‘VI’ on her cheek ever so slanted due to the roundness of her cheeks as she smiles, the adorable crumb on the side of her mouth. You reach out to wipe it, holding your thumb there. Lightly swiping the spot back and forth. “It’s a date, then,” you whisper. The night is chillier now, but it’s hard to feel it with the warmth sparking in your chest and the palm of your hand. The river runs its course, the same as always yet witness to all the changes surrounding it. It feels right.

You’ve been consuming sweets this whole time, and yet none of it has tasted quite this sweet. “You’ve already broadened my horizons once, so why stop there?” She chuckles, shy and filled with the warmth you had missed from her. “I like the way you think, cupcake.” “It’s a date, then,” you say, intertwining your hands. The night is chillier now, but it’s hard to feel it with the warmth sparking in your chest and the palm of your hand. The river runs its course, the same as always yet witness to all the changes surrounding it. It feels right.

(font: 'Times New Roman')+(css: "font-size: 200%")+(align:"=><=")+(box:"X")[Paradoxes] (font: 'Times New Roman')+(align:"=><=")+(box:"X")[(align:"=><=")+(box:"X")+(align:"=><=")[[(an Arcane spec twine)->Untitled Passage]]]