@artistic-lamentโ
Viktor was not one for people-watching. Not that theย โsportโ was particularly easy in Zaun in the first place, with its thronging masses and smog. To the Machine Herald, the crowd itself was one organism of people - pushing past slower walkers with pointed elbows and knees.
So it was strange that he found himself paying attention to one man in that shifting cluster of humanity. Something about him had caught Viktorโs eye... the man was dressed in a Zaunite fashion, and that should have been enough to discard him as simply another native of the metropolis. But something was odd. Unlike Piltover, where patterned fabrics and belts seemed to be constantly in vogue, Zaunโs fashion was unique in its only rule: that it didnโt haveย any rules. A man in a full business suit was just as likely to be a Zaunite as someone wearing loud-patterned shorts and not much else. There was just something about living in the city that marked you as a true Zaunite - and foreigners stuck out like a sore thumb due to it.
So whyย did that man look so perfectly Zaunite, and yet feel like a foreigner? The longer Viktor thought about it (and the longer he stood, a still island in a flowing and shoving rush of foot-traffic), the more odd it seemed. He would be unsettled, if he could be unsettled.
Perhaps following the man would put him at ease. It wasnโt as if Viktor had a punishing schedule, after all - heโd left his laboratory for some basic supplies and had on reason to go back soon.
It was only logical to want to figure out what was so amiss about that stranger.
