"Dynasties..."
snippet of the first chapter of part 2 of my 3 part prequel series (oh god) for Run at the Cup.
not totally ready to discuss why i'm writing more RATC but I'm working on some stuff and I hope to be done soon. anyways here's the snippet:
They were walking slowly because Ahri had changed into her clubbing shoes for the afterparty, making her as tall as Akali - a thing that Ahri was bemoaning now. Akali being taller than her was something she liked - looking up sometimes into her captain’s eyes to make eye contact, making her feel truly like she had something to strive for.
Akali didn’t have to make an effort - not like Ahri did. She was effortless grace and muscle, sports bra under her bomber jacket - all toned abs and tanned skin in the Bilgewater night air. The city was quiet, the lack of celebration because of them - they’d done this. Together, with their teammates, they’d silenced a city.
“It’s like an anti-victory parade,” Ahri slurred, and Akali raised her eyebrows, smirked.
“Hm?”
Ahri gestured, stumbling a little, being righted by a firm, strong hand on her bicep. Akali’s fingers lingered, warm and strong, grazing the sleeveless side of Ahri’s dress. “The silence.”
Akali nodded. They walked a few steps in companionable silence before she inhaled through her teeth, seemed to ponder, before saying: “I always love this part.”
Ahri slid her gaze to Akali’s as they walked - baseball cap tilted to the side, bun sticking out the back, hair messy and tousled with the sweat of the club, the shower beforehand. Her eyebrow was still bandaged from the errant high stick that had clipped her in the second period, when Bilgewater’s frustration - their understanding that they were going to lose here, in their home building - had finally sunk in.
“What part?” Ahri asked, and found herself mesmerised. She was drunk, and she was giddy off of winning her second cup, and maybe she was also giddy because her Captain - because Akali - had asked her to walk with her. Alone. Just her.
“The silence,” Akali admitted, “the quiet of defeat. It makes me feel like the job’s truly done if you can make a cup team shut up.”
Ahri’s lips twisted as she pictured it - Akali taking short walks in opposing team’s cities, drinking in the atmosphere and disappointment, getting a charge off of it.
“That seems petty,” Ahri said.
Akali smiled - sudden and brilliant - before steeling her expression. “It is. Unattractive, too. But for me, the job isn’t over until there’s a winner and a loser - one of the easiest ways to win is to ensure the other side loses.”
“That’s some tsung zu shit,” Ahri muttered, and she weaved again, forcing Akali to put a hand on her shoulder. This time, it stayed put - the warm and competent hand keeping her company as Akali seemed lost in thought.
“You were amazing,” Akali said, snapping out of it and giving Ahri’s shoulder a squeeze, “you’ve really come into your own since the War Horses signed you.”
“Oh,” Ahri replied, quiet.