AN : Song : Playground (Bea Miller)
The first thing Hope noticed was the darkness and the lights.
The city looked as though it was on the verge of collapsing, yet something kept it standing.
There was a determination to survive here that fascinated the young woman.
Then she began noticing the people—and she was stunned.
There were humans, but not only humans.
She saw people who looked like gnomes, creatures with human bodies but faces resembling animals.
Did that man seriously have a fish head?
Curious, she decided to try something risky.
She walked openly with her face fully in Tribrid mode.
Yet no one stared at her.
Aside from the occasional appreciative glance she received, no one paid her any attention.
Her gaze met that of a woman getting tattooed under conditions Hope definitely wouldn’t call sanitary.
Hope smiled, fangs included, and the woman blushed.
Tsk.
The Mikaelson charm.
She found herself fascinated by the prosthetics.
In some ways, this society seemed far more advanced than hers, yet in others, it lagged behind.
For example, she hadn’t seen a single smartphone.
Was it because the city seemed mostly populated by poor people, or did they simply not exist here?
She needed more information.
With determination, she disappeared deeper into the city streets.
She slipped through the crowd, catching fragments of conversations.
The first thing she noticed was how much these people hated the “Pilties” — the “topsiders.” She observed the currency being exchanged: copper coins, rarely silver, and even more rarely gold.
She had definitely made the right choice converting her money into gold and precious metals.
For several hours, she tried gathering information.
Unfortunately, her patience had limits.
So she turned into an alleyway where she met the gaze of a beggar.
She approached him and used compulsion.
“Tell me everything you know about this world and this city.
And…
what exactly is a ‘Piltie’?”
That was how she learned she was in the world of Runeterra.
He spoke of the desert lands of Shurima, the brutality of Noxus, the serenity and beauty of Ionia, Demacia and its hatred of mages, the frozen lands of the Freljord, the pirates of Bilgewater, and jungles and islands still unexplored.
But what Hope found most important was the existence of Piltover and its undercity, which the separatists called Zaun.
It was in this undercity that she now stood.
A subterranean land built to provide resources for Piltover, whose people had been abandoned and left to rot in their own misery.
To the people of Piltover, Zaunites were second-class citizens.
They received only scraps from the city above, and at the slightest hint of rebellion, the Enforcers were sent in to suppress the population.
Their prison, Stillwater, was filled with Zaunites.
Hope was certain many of them were innocent.
In a system like this, the hatred she had heard in the streets was only natural.
Even Hope herself was outraged by the state of the city.
The beggar spoke of the Chem-Barons, of Silco and Shimmer.
He spoke of the terror inspired by Jinx, Silco’s mad daughter.
“Forget you ever met me,” Hope said after placing a small gold nugget onto the man’s lap.
Then she vanished with vampire speed, leaving the beggar confused.
She didn’t see his eyes widen at the sight of the gold before he hurriedly hid it beneath his blankets.
Hope leapt across the city’s rooftops until, at last, the sun began to rise, revealing the gleaming city of Piltover in the distance.
It was at that moment that she truly felt it—she was no longer on Earth.
The realization was devastating.
She collapsed to the ground and broke into sobs.
It felt like she could no longer breathe.
The pain of losing everything was unbearable, amplified even further by her vampire nature.
It hurt too much.
Why did she always have to lose the people she loved?
Always this pain, ever since her birth.
Was she destined to suffer forever?
As she spiraled deeper into despair, she suddenly felt something wet strike her cheek.
She touched her face and found pink paint on her fingers.
“…?”
Hope looked around but saw no one.
She frowned—only to be hit again, this time on the back of the neck with blue paint.
“Funny.
You done playing around?” she called into the empty air.
“Depends.
You done crying?” a female voice shot back.
“Maybe you should mind your own business.”
“I was trying to relax and enjoy the view.
Hard to do with all your sobbing.”
Hope felt a vein in her neck throb with irritation.
“Well, sorry if my suffering is ruining your peaceful morning!” Hope snapped.
“I accept your apology,” the voice replied just before Hope got splattered in the face with green paint.
“What the fuck is your problem?!”
“Oh, she’s still got a little fire left in her,” the voice laughed.
“Okay, fuck you.”
This time, red paint splashed across Hope’s hair.
“Language!”
Hope rose to her feet, her glowing yellow eyes revealing the monster hidden behind her beautiful face.
“That’s it—I’ve had enough.
You’d better run.” she warned before searching for her opponent’s scent.
At that moment, she heard footsteps retreating, followed by a mocking laugh.
“You can run, but you can’t hide.” she said with a smile before taking off after her.
Hope ran at full speed, leaping across rooftops in pursuit of the ghost that had been slipping through her fingers for the past hour.
She had only managed to catch glimpses of her back and blue braids so long they should have been cumbersome, yet they didn’t seem to slow the little painter down at all.
The Tribrid could have used her vampire speed and ended the game instantly.
But she didn’t want to.
She hadn’t had this much fun in a long time.
Every now and then, a paintball would burst toward her, and she would dodge at the very last second.
But for the first time in what felt like forever, she felt alive.
When the chase finally came to an end at the docks, she was almost disappointed.
The little painter sat atop the roof of a warehouse, staring out at the sea.
Slowly, Hope approached her and sat beside her without saying a word.
After a few minutes, Hope heard a stomach growl.
Smiling, she conjured two still-warm beignets and held one out to the mischievous girl.
The young woman hesitated for a moment before accepting it.
Hope smiled when she heard her moan softly in delight.
Beignets always had that effect.
“Thank you,” Hope said quietly.
She didn’t want to admit it, but the temptation to turn off her humanity had been there.
She didn’t know if she would have given in.
She wanted to believe she wouldn’t have.
She wanted to believe she was stronger than that.
But ever since becoming a vampire, did she even know who she was anymore?
“Not used to being thanked,” the young woman said, a hint of disbelief in her voice.
“You pulled me out of a really dark moment,” Hope admitted at last.
She didn’t understand why she felt the urge to confide in her.
“It’s obvious you’re not from here.
This city is nothing but dark moments,” she said melancholically.
Hope sighed.
“Despite all the darkness in this city, I think I’ve found a few traces of light,” she said before turning toward the young woman.
Their eyes met—blue eyes filled with misery.
And when Hope felt her fangs emerge, when her senses slipped out of control and warmth spread through her body, she already knew she wanted to see those eyes shine with joy.
She was going to kill Landon.
Because what were the chances that, barely after arriving in a new world, she would run into her soulmate?