Double Life. Silco X Male Reader (On Hold.)

Families Divided.

Some people are not born with power. Some people are born with power. Some choose to strive for greatness in order to achieve that power. While others choose to leave that power behind them. Though, strange as it may be, some born into that power, choose never to use it at all. Or even worse, try to use it for their own gain. But what if someone existed, a man, who wanted mothing more then to help others with his power? What would that achieve?

You were one of these people. Strapped with the weight of Piltover's pride on your back but not being completley weighed down by it. There was a place you could go were people only knew you by the name you decided upon, a place for strays and the lost.

This place was the under city, the place that lay beneath Piltover's nose...No feet. Piltover could not care for the beauty of the under city, nore its existance. Most were too scared to cross into such a place. The ones who dared had been rumoured to have died trying, or the mighty enforcers would come back damaged with lost armour, only stabalizing the sad beliefs Piltover held of the 'commoners' below them in the under city. All kinds of rumours swirled about the so called savages that lived within. Monsters and mayhem lay behind that gate. Piltover could pretend to care when the weak or sick were mentioned but the subject was quickly moved along. A society split in two, but what if it was three?

Your world had always been filled with fake. Fake smiles from fake people. Someone would smile at you and ask if your morning was 'chipper', you'de reply with a crude smile, a loose eyebrow twitch and an "absolutley splendid." Piltover was fake it till you make it. That was okay though, because inspired by the stories that you had been told, ones that the council of Piltover feared, sneaking into the under city had become a dream come true, a complete breeze. Whatever Piltover tempted you with, you didn't want what it had to offer anymore. The only reason you would ever go back at this point was to sleep and your job of course, it was selling art mostly so you weren't a suspicious or even really noticed person to anyone.

Every night for a long time now you had snook out your bedroom window and made your way into the city of Zaun. One day you vowed to do this during the day, when you could sneak past the enforcers that was. You even decided to look the part by buying new trinkets every time to attach to your harness and belts. It was relativley easy considering you had learnt the art of pick pocketing from the unsuspecting gaurds or enforcers in Piltover.
Kind of made you feel like Robin Hood after a while, you never spent a single cog of the stolen riches on Piltover afterall. Your outfit so far consisted of a pair of brown leather trousers, some old trainers with good grip as they were much easier to run around in then the boots everyone in Piltover wore, a torso harness that connected to your belt which had pouches, a backpack, a button up shirt with the sleeves ripped off and a hooded cape that has been partially burnt with your last enforcer run in. Most of these items you had acquired from the under city market, some of it like your shirt however you had altered to match Zaun's style. A way to blend in. Besides that shirt had some red paint on it and it made it feel more authentic as everyone in the under city were traders, fighters or merchants that worked hard at their job so everyone had traces of their jobs and stories on their clothing.

Running across the roof tiles you found yourself skidding along down a pipe that connected to a small cliff. This landed you on a water tower on the edge of Zaun, as per usual to avoid being mugged or spotted by enforcers searching the outer area of the under city, you ran across the roofs instead. After all these years you had become good at it. It did not take you long to find your way into the the under city centre.

The centre as a whole was usually a place for everyone to meet up. This meant traders and merchants, kids looking to have some fun, and the occasional pet owner training their animals but nothing of this compared to the last drop. The last drop was a tavern filled with all kinds of people who were all thick as thieves and mostly trustworthy. They were a protective sort, most of them had kids and wanted nothing more than to protect the saftey of the under city. In its centre was a man named Vander, he ran the place, and as far as you were aware when anything got too chaotic he intervened. He usually helped people find their way out the door. You could sit on a roof and watch this for hours. It was pretty hilarious when some drunkard landed on his face in a puddle and kids would come over and paint a mustache on them. The kids really made this small city, it was nice to you  to see that even though there was little to do they could invent fun games for themselves and play as if they weren't living in poverty.