#silco analysis

[whiskikistudio]

I love this hang-dog expression Silco has while looking down the table at all these Chem-Barons he has to call peers.

“Now I’m forced to share the air with parasites like you who leach off their (Brothers and Sisters) legacy…”

It makes me think that this is not what Silco as a young revolutionary initially dreamed of for Zaun (This, plus the way his sneers “enterprise” in s1ep9).

He seems thoroughly put-out and frustrated that this is what his dream has become.

[vancodependent]

I might get dogpiled for this but I have this particular view of Silco that I must share: I think he is fundamentally a pathetic person. I am a certified Silco lover, and this quality of his is actually central to my affection for him, and in this essay I will explain why:

Silco is a twisted and warped person because of a lifetime of abandonment and cruelty. We know that before the bridge, he was already relatively closed off with an acerbic, sarcastic sense of humor. We know that when Vander tried to kill him, a mad scientist at the fringes of society was the one who saved him from dying of infection, most likely through a series of painful experiments. When we saw him in the cannery, his only allies were aforementioned mad scientist and the chembarons that he openly loathed.

All of this to say, we never saw Silco with a genuine friend other than Vander and Felicia. If he had other family or friends at one point, they all abandoned him after the man he called his brother tried to kill him. Can you imagine how he felt, early on after that happened? The only person he’d ever really trusted left him permanently disfigured. And then that person dismantled and crushed every inch of progress Silco had made towards his lifelong dream, Zaun. And THEN this person was embraced by and treated as a beloved pillar of the community for his efforts. Silco could not have been rejected by society in a more literal or total way. The damage that this did to his sense of self worth and trust in others was irreversible.

Sevika was loyal to his cause, and I think there was genuine respect and admiration between them, but it was a business relationship. At that point in his life, I think he was already too emotionally stunted to form any kind of real attachment to another adult.

What we see with Jinx is that he desperately craved a family but was unable to create a healthy one. He absolutely loved Jinx, but he was far too traumatized to effectively parent her. I personally disagree with the characterization of Silco as a cold manipulator that saw Jinx as a weapon, because in his lived experience it was completely rational to assume that no one was trustworthy and everyone would abandon her. The parallel to his falling out with Vander when Vi yelled at her for throwing the hex crystal could not be more on the nose. 

Silco had a tendency to re-open his old wounds again and again until they were so scarred over that he could tell himself nothing hurt anymore. That worked for him because he’d never had anyone he could trust, but it splintered Jinx’s reality because she did grow up with people who loved her. The paranoia that drove her insane was actually pretty sane for his worldview.

Silco, to be clear, absolutely did evil things. He mutated and tortured Deckard, a child who was probably just another undercity castoff (and that in particular kills me, because I think he re-enacted some of his own traumas on Deckard). He also pumped shimmer into the streets of his own community to accelerate his revolutionary plans. He even told a grieving mother that he would have had her child killed in retaliation for her actions. And although he grew to love Jinx, he could only understand her insofar as he saw a mirror of himself. 

Ultimately, he was capable of compartmentalizing the suffering that he caused because he believed it was for the greater good of his nation. There’s a streak of narcissism in that logic; he felt he had the right to sacrifice his own people for his ideals, and he didn’t care if they believed in his mission or not. In fact, he knew in no uncertain terms that the community whose independence he was fighting for by and large did not think that his cause was worth the price he forced them to pay. That makes his actions paternalistic at best, and retributive at worst. Of course, he would never say that he wanted to punish his community for what they did to him, but I think it leaked out subconsciously through his actions.

But what makes him pathetic and not just evil is that underneath those twisted, gnarled feelings, was a broken man who just wanted to be accepted. When Vander tried to kill him and the community rallied behind him, Silco could have easily written the Undercity off as a whole. It would have been much easier for him to join the chembarons in enriching himself with no regard for the people who left him for dead. And if all he wanted was to get back at Piltover, there were much more direct ways to do that as well. But there was something inside of him that refused to give up on Zaun.

Silco’s emotional maturity is stunted, but he has an inherent sense of justice, and I respect him for that because the world did its damndest to beat it out of him. Beyond that, his loyalty to the cause of Zaun speaks to a deep desire to be re-welcomed into his community. He really is the perfect example of the old saying, a child who is cast out from his village will burn it down to feel its warmth.

Something that Arcane really beats us over the head with is that morally grey people with the best of intentions can cause unspeakable evil. Silco is very much a product of his circumstances, and while that doesn’t excuse his actions, it does make him deeply human.

[soratatakano]

Silco as a control freak in my work Secretary.

When I refer to Silco as a control freak, I am not implying a recurring fetish expressed through bondage. His need for control — as a man who was betrayed and who built an empire from nothing, on ruins — runs far deeper than any pursuit of physical pleasure.

While working with this character — reshaping him without tearing apart the fabric of who he already is — I began to notice multiple layers. I chose three of them, layers that can be stripped away like clothing until nothing remains but flesh and bone.

The first layer is work.

Sometimes I think of it as his coat. When he appears on screen with his gloves on and his collar turned up, he becomes the Eye of Zaun we know. I construct him in much the same way in the text. As a boss, Silco controls everything around him — from the company as a vast, intricate machine to a single employee functioning as one precise cog.

“A good company thrives when everything runs like clockwork,” he began almost lazily. The fact that he had set his irritation aside was only mildly unsettling. He looked away, momentarily lost in thought. “My company isn’t good. It’s the best on the market. And that’s because, as the boss, I control everything. I know everything, which keeps me one step ahead of anyone who might try to undermine me.” The confidence didn’t feel performative — it was genuine, effortless. “That is only possible when everyone knows their place,” he emphasized sternly, leaning forward slightly. A few strands of hair slipped from his otherwise impeccable hairstyle as his gaze drilled into you. “Everyone.”

From the very beginning, the moment the main character stepped out of line, he ruthlessly restored order. What is striking is that nothing that happened in this chapter affected his business, his plans, or his authority. Her actions were born of goodwill and commitment — yet even that required correction. Everything stems from his need to ensure that not even a single element deviates from the plan.

Like his always immaculate hairstyle — something he adjusts instinctively when stressed — control is reflexive for him.

This does not mean that Silco is a cruel employer. He is demanding, yes, but he rewards good behavior… with the absence of punishment. And while that sounds almost absurd, it creates stability. His company is not warm or familial. It is not sweet. Silco understands the value of each employee and expects unwavering commitment within the limits of their contract. Nothing more, nothing less. No procrastination — but also no performative overachievement meant to beg for promotion.

The main character recognizes this quickly:

You pointed out the same fear you noticed in every employee here, which only deepened your irritation. And you truly couldn’t understand them. Silco was strict and demanding, but he didn’t punish people for sport. […] As long as the work was done properly, there was no reason to be afraid. It was just unfortunate that so few seemed to grasp that. Though sometimes you leaned toward the theory that Silco understood precisely how to influence people — and chose to use it. The man was a control freak in nearly every sense.

Silco’s control does not stop at the four walls of his office. It radiates outward, across the company, and he does not hesitate to pull the reins when someone from the outside attempts to peer in. What is his remains his — and the world can either accept that, or cease to matter.

His company evolved from an unrecognized name into a business whose product could redefine the market. Yet even at that stage, he has no intention of sharing power. When a company grows into a corporation, one person is rarely enough. A CEO is appointed, a board is formed, shares are distributed, voting rights granted.

Silco rejects all of it at the very first meeting, without concern for how such processes are “supposed” to unfold.

By offering investors a share in profits without granting them decision-making power, he essentially presents them with the same arrangement he offers the main character — only dressed differently. Authority sits on his shoulders like that coat; he wears it instinctively. He never removes the gloves. Nothing is meant to be seen except the scar — the single visible fracture he allows the world to focus on and remember.

The second layer is the relationship.

It is what remains once the coat comes off — the absurd trousers, the red shirt, the fitted vest. A version of him visible only to those he has deliberately allowed closer. And even then, it is not intimacy in the romantic sense. It is access. A privilege. Certainly not partnership.

Silco offers the main character a deal. It could be described as friends with benefits — except they are not truly friends. It is an arrangement between a boss and his employee, two people who suddenly realize they want each other far too much to continue pretending otherwise.

This does not automatically mean feelings are developing between him and his secretary — but that belongs to a different analysis.

In this dynamic, Silco’s need for control intensifies. Not in the crude sense of collars and leashes, but in a psychological one. Control is what makes him feel secure enough to participate. Secure enough to lower his guard. Secure enough to allow intimacy without perceiving it as weakness.

By controlling her and the course of their encounters, he regulates his own vulnerability. Only then can he engage fully enough to pursue his own pleasure.

Their connection operates on dom/sub principles, but it is not a formalized dynamic. It exists in undertones — in implication rather than declaration.

The structure remains consistent: he commands, she obeys. And within that structure, they learn each other. Slowly, they begin to understand that they are more compatible than either of them initially anticipated.

You didn’t pretend it changed anything. The closeness, the heat, the way your body had yielded without resistance — none of it rewrote the rules you had lived by for a year. It didn’t blur the hierarchy or soften its edges; if anything, it sharpened them. You knew exactly what it had been and why it had worked on you. You wanted him, unapologetically — not because you believed it meant something more, but because your body had responded to his control with a clarity that left no room for doubt.

In a sense, they found each other — not romantically, but physically. Functionally.

As a control freak within this relationship, Silco is primarily concerned with ensuring that every moment unfolds according to his design. From her clothing to positioning, from pacing to sound, nothing is accidental. He embodies the archetypal image of a dominant man: he gives instructions, defines boundaries, dictates what she may and may not do in his presence. He determines when and how she reaches release.

Crucially, he does not force her into reactions. He does not manufacture obedience. She creates the space in which he can exercise control. Trust is the foundation.

She relinquishes control because she needs to. And the moment Silco realizes that the reins are willingly placed in his hands, he stops asking and begins commanding. He pushes her limits — not to break them, but to make her understand what it truly means to give control to someone like him.

“Consider this your lesson,” he murmured. “You gave me the reins yourself. Don’t expect me to loosen them. You wanted direction. You wanted to be told. And now that you’ve yielded it, don’t look surprised when I keep it.” He finally looked at you, and you shivered, pressing your thighs together. “I don’t indulge halfway. Not with you.”

The third layer is the body.

Everything hidden beneath the clothing that makes him who he is. Flesh and bone. Skin and scars. The version of him he does not willingly reveal.

During intimate moments with her, Silco remains mostly clothed. He removes his gloves for comfort, and his garments are adjusted only as much as necessary. Exposure is minimal, functional. The same principle applies to her — hence the instruction that she is never to wear trousers at work. Accessibility, but within parameters he defines.

Returning to him: Silco controls himself precisely when control should be impossible. The small gestures, the withheld reactions — things that are invisible if one looks only through the lens of pleasure.

He does not kiss her. There is no such softness between them. Even when his lips brush her neck or jaw, he never crosses onto her mouth. There is no cascade of affection, no indulgent tenderness. That would blur lines or imply emotion.

Instead, there is domination expressed through controlled discomfort — enough to sharpen the senses, never enough to cause harm. When his teeth press into her skin, it is not wild, nor tender. It is communicative. A warning or a quiet: stay still and remember where you are.

Silco does everything he can to conceal the part of himself most vulnerable at the height of pleasure.

Physiologically, ecstasy is brief — from few seconds to few minutes — during which the body and mind enter a state akin to intoxication. Hormones surge and control slips. Awareness narrows. It is, by nature, a surrender.

And yet, Silco resists it. More than that — he strategizes around it.

How? By ensuring she reaches her peak first. If her body is overtaken, if her mind is suspended in that moment, she cannot observe him. She cannot witness what he refuses to display.

His restraint runs deeper still. When the focus shifts to his own stimulation, he buries his face in the curve of her neck. He prolongs her reactions to delay his own. He avoids eye contact.

But when her pleasure is the focal point, he does the opposite. He does not allow her to look away. What may appear provocative on the surface reveals something more fundamental beneath: control. Control of her gaze. Her breathing. Her response. Her release.

Control does not dissolve when the pleasure fades.

Silco recovers more quickly than she does. While the main character lingers in the aftershock — suspended, unsteady — he is already reassembling himself. Adjusting his clothing. Reclaiming composure. Withdrawing.

There is no extended tenderness afterward. No soft conversation. No ritual of reassurance. The need has been met; the structure must be restored. He returns to his world as if crossing a threshold.

This detachment is only possible because both of them accept the unspoken rule: the relationship remains physical. Contained and defined.

And for Silco, containment is everything.

Conclusion.

Silco’s need for control is not a superficial trait, nor is it confined to dominance in a physical sense. It is structural. It defines the way he exists in the world.

Across the three layers — work, relationship, and body — control functions as both armor and architecture.

At the level of work, it is strategic. He controls systems, people, outcomes. Authority is not merely power; it is stability. His company thrives because unpredictability is eliminated before it can take root. Order is not cruelty — it is preservation.

Within the relationship, control becomes intimate. It is no longer about machinery and hierarchy, but about proximity. He regulates the dynamic so that vulnerability never exceeds his threshold of tolerance. Dominance is not spectacle; it is self-protection. By setting the terms, he ensures that closeness does not destabilize him. She yields, but he also calibrates — constantly.

At the level of the body, control turns inward. This is where it becomes most revealing. He disciplines instinct. He strategizes around pleasure. He avoids exposure at the very moment when the body demands surrender. If work is the coat and the relationship the vest beneath it, then the body is what he guards most fiercely. Not because it is shameful — but because it is uncontrollable.

The common thread across all three layers is not domination for its own sake. It is safety.

Silco feels secure when variables are contained. When roles are defined. When desire follows structure. Even intimacy is permitted only when framed within boundaries he understands and enforces.

Control, for him, is not about owning others.

It is about never again being at the mercy of something — or someone — he cannot predict.

And that is why the dynamic works. Because she does not wrest control from him. She hands it over — willingly.

Which means, paradoxically, that in giving him power, she reinforces the one thing he cannot live without: the illusion that nothing can take it from him.

[inthemoodforblastt]

i was the one who sent the ask on arcane, and i 1000000% agree. the way people over romanticize silco confuses me so much?? because he isn't inherently a bad character, but he drugged the undercity AND the way he raised jinx wasn't ethical at all. i understand why he raised her how he did, but he definitely wasn't a good parent. you cant excuse the actions of silco and jinx but then hate on caitlyn for grieving (unhealthily sure, but everyone in arcane is mentally unstable so).

one more question, whats your opinion on timebomb (jinx x ekko)? i personally think its a very bland ship and i dont think they have any chemistry, but i know its very popular in the fandom.

I have this thing with Silco: I love him. I mean, I really love him. And because of the fandom, I ended up resenting him. Because of the fandom, his fandom. And he’s a character I genuinely liked a lot in the first season. I think he’s a brilliant character because he very clearly embodies the corruption of revolutionary politics as an idea.

Silco is a revolutionary, someone involved in politics in favor of class rights and in reclaiming his political and social place in the world as a worker, someone who has been incredibly exploited by an economic and social elite. And what’s interesting is how the violence surrounding him ends up turning him into the very thing he swore to destroy. Because in the end, it’s not just that he becomes a crime lord. Silco becomes the boss of Zaun, the guy who controls the money and uses violence to subjugate the very people he originally wanted to protect through his political struggle.

And I don’t think he necessarily believes he’s doing the right thing, but he does believe that the path he’s chosen is the correct one to achieve his goals without realizing that he’s actually stepped into the exact same cycle of abuse and exploitation as the people of Piltover. And that’s really interesting, because it happens a lot, how violence corrupts you, how feeling powerless pushes you to respond in violent and aggressive ways to social problems, and how you lose the collective vision. Because that’s what happens to Silco: he loses that collective vision and replaces it with an individualistic one that he thinks will somehow lead to collective success, which it never does.

So yeah, he’s a very well-constructed character. The problem is that his fandom is awful, honestly, it’s unbearable. And part of what makes him so well-written is how he projects his own trauma onto Jinx. He projects what happened with Vander onto her, and he does that by sabotaging her relationship with Vi. Because he sees Vi not only as a threat, but also as someone who will obviously come between him and Jinx, which she absolutely will, because at the end of the day, they’re sisters. And we see that in the second season: despite everything that’s happened, despite all the trauma and Jinx’s mental state, they’re still sisters. Jinx is someone who deeply needs attachment and affection. So the idea of being in a kind of “paradise” with Vander—even if Vander has become a complete monster—with her sister and the little girl, for her, that’s wonderful. Despite everything that’s happened.

So to me, Silco represents corruption, and that’s something we see all the time. Drug cartel leaders or criminal gangs that come from the slums don’t usually start out wanting to harm their neighbors or the micro-society they’ll later control. They often have this internal narrative where they believe they’re doing something good for their community. Take Pablo Escobar, for example, he thought he was helping his community because he funded a lot of so-called “social projects,” which weren’t really social projects at all, but ways to launder money and enrich himself. Still, people in poorer areas loved him for it. But at the same time, he exploited children, sent them to traffic drugs, and basically sent them to die at the hands of the DEA.

And Silco does the same thing. So excusing that? I just can’t. We can explain why he does it, we can understand it, but you can’t excuse a man who exploits children and is essentially poisoning an entire population with drugs. That’s just not okay.

And then, obviously, his relationship with Jinx is a mess, it’s deeply dysfunctional. He’s not a good father figure. Vander was a good father figure who actually cared about the girls. Silco has unresolved trauma that he projects onto Jinx, and Jinx becomes what she becomes because he never gives her the support she needs to overcome that trauma. Instead, he feeds it, uses it for his own benefit, until it eventually blows up in his face because you can’t keep feeding a ticking time bomb and expect it not to explode on you.

And that’s also what makes the character so interesting. The problem with Silco isn’t Silco himself or how he’s written, he’s an incredibly well-written character. The problem is his fandom, which is honestly terrible. I was around during the first season of Arcane, on Twitter and Tumblr with another account, and it was unbearable. You start to resent the character just because of his fans.

That said, I love the pairing of Ekko and Jinx. I absolutely adore them. Ever since the first season, when they’re kids in the flashbacks, I love them, I’m sorry. I think they have great chemistry, but also because Ekko seems like one of the kindest, most genuinely good characters.

To me, Ekko is one of the few characters who actually understands what political struggle—and even armed struggle—should look like. Like, you can justify armed confrontation, even actions that could be labeled as “terrorist,” against oppressors, while at the same time building community, supporting your people, and creating networks of care and solidarity. What Ekko builds—and what he represents—is actually an example of what a real political struggle should look like. That’s why I love him so much, and why I really like that ship.

[benewitch]

Okay guys, I woke up this morning and the Silco brainrot is in full-force (yeah, I am yearning for him again). And there it is. The reason why I think Silco’s Act 1 outfit is his best one (considering both seasons). It’s gonna be a lengthy one.

From our take of his introduction Silco is a character built upon striking contrasts, stuck between the two worlds of Piltover and Zaun. A handsome man with horrifically scared face. A crimelord with a silver tongue. A loving father and a master manipulator. His type of intelligence isn’t associated with science but with the human nature- he reads people like an open book, always one step ahead. And he isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty- either by wielding a knife or a gun (even brute force).

THAT'S THE SAME MAN, RIGHT???

Someone mentioned before how strange it was for Silco to exchange his old clothes for that expensive tree piece suit, that has more value in gold than the yearly salary of someone from the Undercity (he HATES pilties, right???). Even in the AU (where he was indeed a councilor), his choice of clothing is still elegant and speaks of his status, but is not nearly as posh. And I think it served his character in a very particular way- “…we need to scare them…”. It was more of a façade, a power and control situation. I wouldn’t be surprised if that was an answer to his slipping control (with Marcus, with the Chem-Barons, with Jinx, with the Firelights), a desperate need to remind of his status when other measures failed to do so. And especially his coat. He always wears it when he wants to intimidate. Just like some species of animals trying to scare off predators (imagine a porcupine spreading its quills or a horned owl). I am also thinking of this outfit as more of mimicry- imitating the predator(pilties) in hopes to trick it (okay, okay, that's enough biology stuff).

That’s what made me consider the Act 1 outfit as the “true” Silco outfit that falls perfectly in line with the narrative that he will never be a piltie, but he is neither a “true zauinite” as we might expect. The outfit itself is a perfect blend of contradictions. An expensive looking vest worn over a simple cotton, red striped shirt. Trousers tailored in the way Piltover men wear them, falling at the seams and held together at multiple places (belt, bandages?). Perfectly clean and pressed clothes (the strking white of his tie) paired with mismatched boots. And the cunty wristband?

Something more I want you to take into consideration is the LANGUAGE Silco uses. I went through the transcripts of the first few episodes. Every single zaunite character that you encounter (even children) don’t seem bothered to slip out curses or profanities (shit, fuck-up, son of a bitch, trencher trash, piss off, STUFF THEM IN THE OLD BABY MAKER). And guess who is the only one that breaks this rule? Silco has a very rich and distinctive vocabulary; his lines seem perfectly arranged (imagine a debate between him and Mel or Cassandra).

If you read this far, thank you! I had a lot of fun writing this (especially the animal part 😂🤦🏻‍♀️), and I hope you enjoyed it as well! 🫶🏻

[silsnake]

Silco and Progressive Rock

I know that it’s widely accepted that Silco listens to classical music (and he probably does), but I am BEGGING people to consider him actually being a huge PROG ROCK fan. Look at him and tell me he doesn’t put on Pink Floyd when he’s absolutely sure nobody’s close enough to hear.

Again, while I agree with the idea of him listening to classical music, I don’t emphasize it as much, and I try to focus on progressive rock specifically for several reasons

First of all, I think that in his youth he’d be more into punk/post-punk, goth, and maybe even some metal (nothing too heavy, though, as I don’t think that was ever his thing). I won’t go into too much detail about his possible ties to these genres, but the connection comes naturally, keeping in mind his earlier days of being a revolutionary and fighting against oppression (themes that are very prevalent in these particular genres).

Additionally, I think it would make even more sense for him to listen to progressive rock, as the shift would feel a bit “smoother” — as if he couldn’t fully let go. Silco completely abandoning his previous tastes in favor of only listening to classical music not only makes no sense in terms of the evolution of his musical tastes, but also doesn’t fit his character. He is a man who has a hard time letting things go, clinging to his past, so naturally, the same sentiment would extend to things like music.

Just think about it. Progressive rock thrives on intricate structures, shifting time signatures, long builds, and elaborate compositions. Silco operates the same way. His strategies aren’t impulsive: they’re deliberate and multi-layered. He doesn’t just push with brute force (clearly that’s not his style) — he builds a movement, orchestrates the shifts from the shadows, and bends it to his will. The genre mirrors his need for precision and mastery.

Progressive rock is all about patience and payoff, but fortunately, Silco is a long-game thinker. He waits, schemes, sacrifices. Prog rock often delays gratification (yes, you can insert an edging joke here). That parallels how Silco builds his empire: carefully, with moments of explosive release.

Seriously, some songs take minutes to resolve, weaving through tension before arriving at something transcendent. Most people can’t handle that. They see how long the song is and immediately turn it off if they don’t “sense the theme” within the first minute or two. They don’t (or maybe simply can’t) wait for the final reward. But Silco? Silco is all about the end result. A few extra minutes won’t faze him, he’s spent long enough working in the shadows to learn patience. He’s willing to see it through, to the very last note.

Most importantly, he’d only listen to prog rock when he knows he’s alone. This isn’t just some idea connected to sentimentality, or him trying to enjoy his favorite song in peace. When it comes to Silco, it’s, once again, all about survival.

Classical music is expected of him: safe. But songs with lyrics he’d connect to? That would let others peek into his mind. Words carry meaning that would be easier to pick up, and that’s dangerous — he knows it. Something as simple as song lyrics can become a weapon in the hands of those who seek to understand and dissect him. He would never risk it, and he’d keep that side of himself hidden.

Imagine this: every single time, without fail, he gets to the middle part of Echoes by Pink Floyd, where the music shifts (around 11 or 12 minutes in, I think) as the guitar starts mimicking seagulls, and suddenly he’s back in the water, being drowned again. He’d sit there, frozen, until the vocals come back in.

Naturally, he can’t have anyone see him like that — can’t let people find the cracks he so desperately tries to hide.

[honey-tongued-devil]

The Color Red in Arcane

an arcane analysis

[This post contains spoilers for Season 2]

We've seen that nothing in Arcane is random, such as the presence of symmetry and gold in the characters from Piltover, and asymmetry and silver when depicting those from Zaun. As the episodes progress, certain details become both metaphorical and a direct signal to the viewer that something has changed within a character. One of these symbols is the presence of the color red.

In the first season of Arcane, we see Viktor and Jayce wearing neckerchiefs. At that time, Viktor is Heimerdinger’s assistant, studying at the academy with a clear purpose (which is to study a way to make Zaun more livable and improve the quality of life for its people), but in a somewhat vague manner. He knows what he wants to achieve, but he doesn’t yet know how to accomplish it. His research is still broad and general. His neckerchief is, for that reason, white.

Jayce instead has already broken rules—he’s ventured into the underground city, conducted unauthorized experiments, and spent his life, from the moment he was able, pursuing a precise dream with the ideal of progress. The way this is directly reflected in his character is through his red necktie.

From Season 1, we can already see that a character who doesn’t yet have a clear ideal—something not necessarily righteous but blinding, to which they dedicate themselves almost religiously—wears neutral colors or ones that match the rest of the palette or outfit. On the other hand, those with strong, solid beliefs, something they think is worth fighting or sacrificing for, are adorned in red.

This is seen again with Caitlyn. 

Caitlyn, like Viktor, had a goal (defending Piltover), but it was vague—it didn’t involve a plan that would keep her awake at night or consume her to the core. 

Before the second episode of Season 2, her choker was blue, matching her palette. But at the exact moment her mother dies and she comes into possession of the Kiramman key, gaining knowledge of the air ducts and becoming blinded by the need for revenge, we witness a sudden change in both her outfit and her demeanor, marked by the sudden appearance of the red choker.

The moment she finds (or believes she has found) a way, red appears on her.

This isn’t about understanding one’s purpose in life but about the moment when something greater enters their lives, and they become “blinded” by an ideal, whether good or bad.

And here we come to Silco, who almost undergoes the opposite process.

Silco is introduced wearing a red shirt, much like Jayce, as he already believes in something from the very start—in his case, a free and better Zaun. 

Once again, this is about a higher cause. All the characters in this category are willing to sacrifice something else. Silco doesn’t care how many lives it will take to make Zaun independent, as long as no one dies in vain. He has a purpose he pursues without hesitation, which is why, from the very first episode, we see him wearing a red shirt. And in Episode 9 of the first season, he dies unwavering in his ideal.

But then, why am I talking about him?

Because he is the one we see change the most dramatically. As a young man (Episode 5, Season 2), he is already wearing a red shirt—his purpose of making Zaun better, no matter the cost, is already firmly in place. But when Felicia, Vi and Jinx's mother, dies, and Vander lures him to the bridge to try to kill him, he is wearing a white shirt. He has lost something he loved, he hesitates, the sacrifice is immense, and he is no longer sure of what to do.

Later, when he returns to Vander in the flashback, with his white, scarred eye, he is once again wearing the red shirt he will never take off again: he lost Felicia, and the next day he lost his best friend. Many people died on that bridge, and in a way, so did he. His hesitation vanished. He has nothing left to lose, so he repeats to his companion the promise of stopping at nothing to achieve his goal, “blisters and bedrocks”.

But it doesn’t end there. In Episode 7, when Ekko finds himself in the alternate reality where Zaun is better, Silco appears wearing a white shirt, because his goal has been fulfilled, and he has lost the anger and blindness that once came with it.

[spaceevalentine]

i really want to write an essay about silco's constant performance of wanting to appear powerful by being heartless and how us as the audience viewing him as heartless is really just us falling for the performance and how beyond the surface you can see that silco really is not as cold as he makes himself out to be. i have a lot more specific evidence and reasoning for this but this is just kind of the general idea