[Fan Fiction] Piltover: The One That Got Away
So I was inspired by the latest event, Bilgewater: Burning Tides, and I wanted to test my creative writing skills so I decided to try and make a story in the vein of Burning Tides. I wanted to tell a story that was about a champion relationship that I have always found intriguing myself, which is why I'm writing about Vi.
I really don't want to spoil anymore of the story so if anyone is confused about anything, just ask me below. Please enjoy and all feedback is welcome and appreciated!
Act One --- Part One Jaded
Piltover. The City of Progress. Oh how times have changed.
This city used to mean something. I used to mean something.
Way back when, I ran--- no, I was the patrol. I protected this city.
Now look at me. Chief babysitter of Piltover PD. Relegated to a cushy corner office with a view. And what a view it is.
I remember when I could sit on the roof and look out at the smoky Piltover skyline. Enjoy the occasional passing dirigible.
These days the only smoke for miles comes from the remains of whatever arson took place the night before.
Even as I glance out at the city before me, it's hard to tell where the black plumes originated with so many bars covering the windows. Oh how times have changed.
What used to be the techmaturgical leader of Valoran, Piltover has devolved into a pit of anarchy and bedlam.
They won't even send me home without an escort. That's probably what I hate the most. Relying on children to walk me home. They're too afraid I'll get sniped from one of a dozen abandoned buildings in my district, or at the very least, get jumped behind the opera house.
What I wouldn't give to get jumped. To throw down the gauntlets one more time.
But I suppose thirty years in the League and ten years behind a desk will do that to you. It wears you down.
I can't recall a time when my bones didn't ache. When there wasn't a limp in my stride. When I let my hands do the talking.
Now I'm lucky if I wake up without the arthritis setting in. What a cruel joke, putting up with arthritis and I don't even have all my fingers left.
That's a story for another time though.
The point is, as much as I hate to admit it, sometimes part of me believes I need that escort.
So what happened to Piltover? Why are factories burning every week? Why are officers getting gunned down in the street?
Despite popular opinion, it wasn't the collapse of the Institute of War. Nor was it our ensuing "dispute" with Gangplank over control of our coastal marshes. Not even the imminent threat of an invasion from Zaun was enough to plunge our city into chaos. I made damn sure of that.
No, there was only one thing I couldn't stop in all my years of service. My single greatest failure in life. The one that got away.
Her.
At the time we didn't know what to call her. What do you call someone who vandalizes a zoo one week, then brings down a commercial blimp the next?
Eventually, the city settled on an official moniker: Jinx. If I didn't know any better, I could have sworn she liked that name.
"Piltover's Greatest Criminal" they would say. I wholeheartedly disagree on this matter.
The way I see it, crimes are committed for a purpose. No matter how cruel, or selfish, or unusual, every crime happens for a reason.
What Jinx did... what she is... she was no criminal. Criminals have intent.
Jinx was a plague. No agenda. No interests in the city to even speak of. She was just bored.
Nobody cared much when her antics amounted to nothing more than arbitrary vandalism or destruction of private property. They didn't see her for what she really was---a virus, infecting the denizens of Piltover.
When the manhunt finally started, nobody really tried to find her. Everyone, especially the younger crowd, wanted to see what she would do next. The city found her fascinating.
One caper after another, she would incite the rambunctious nature of the next generation of Piltover. "Jinx" tags began popping up all over the city. Everyday, I'd find more and more kids dying their hair that horrendous shade of blue. Even I didn't realize how bad things were getting at the time.
Everything changed after the treasury.
Overnight, the city snowballed into pandemonium. Riots broke out in every district.
For two days, Cait and I struggled to quell the adolescent uprising. I never fought so hard in my life.
Slowly but surely, peace was restored to the city.
The workers went back to their factories. The scientists returned to their labs. The youngsters, the ones that we could save, went back to school.
However, despite all the work that went into rehabilitating our youth, Piltover was never the same again.
Over the years the younger generations grew less interested in preserving the city's techmaturgical prowess, and more focused on stirring up trouble. Nobody wanted to grow up an inventor or a peacekeeper anymore.
Jinx's plight single-handedly led to the downfall of our entire society.
And I couldn't do a damn thing about it.
The law became a fickle construct, and the lawmen along with it. I can count on my mutilated hand the number of people I still trust to protect this city.
Here comes one of 'em now.
"Chief," says Masa. "You're gonna wanna see this."
Ready for part two? (http://boards.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/c/fancreations/7EEzRvgw-fan-fiction-piltover-the-one-that-got-away-ii)
