Now that there's an insanely-accurate recreation of the Wii Shop Channel music (thanks to DonnieTheGuy) I've taken it upon myself to whip up a version where the melody is Update Day from Nirvana the Band the Show
The Artist and the Engineer
Part 1//Chapter Five//Paint Thinner
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Pairing: Viktor x Fem!Artist!Reader
Series Synopsis: Heimerdinger wants a commemorative painting done of Viktor, who is not fond of the idea. It doesn't matter how pretty the artist is.
Chapter Synopsis: The artist takes her unexpected guests to away from Viktor's hiding spot. But her late fee might end up being more than she's willing to pay.
Word Count: 2.6k
A/N: Check out some canon drabbles I wrote during the May Drabble Challenge! They're little sneak peeks into bits coming later in the story!
Don’t forget to like, comment, and reblog your favorite fics ❤️
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You knew it was risky. Demanding to go to a second location to have this conversation. You didn't get to make demands, and especially never about meeting spots. You usually were forced to run with whatever hand they dealt you. But all you could think was, don't look over your shoulder. Don't let them know he's here. Don't get him involved.
Kuegler wasn't supposed to be here. Him and the big hulking thing called Boulder. The academy was supposed to be your safe haven. A place too prestigious for them to be. In a way, you had the advantage. Now you just had to get them to leave. The threaten of Heimerdinger was enough, it seemed. For now.
You tried not to hurry as you lead them out the door. Away from Viktor, hid away like a promise to be kept. He would probably never speak to you again after this. But at least he would be safe, and that was all that mattered. No one else suffering for your mistakes.
Down the hall and to the right was a storage closet, this was where you ducked into. It was just big enough for a person's worth of space between you. Given that just Boulder was the size of three grown men. They were too close for comfort. In here, you were a rabbit in a fox den. At the mercy of claw and tooth in a second if provoked.
Boulder glared down at you out of his one good eye; he was never the smiling sort. Better suited to be back up while Kuegler was the talker. You wondered how he could fit through any sort of doorway. He was the one you were most frightened of, even if he was never the one to lay a hand on you.
This close, you could see just how puckered and angry-looking Boulder's scar was. It ran from the back of his bald head, through one eye (which had been replaced with a stone), carving a nick through a thick nostril and both lips, before disappearing under his chin. How he had survived that wound, you would never know.
Kuegler stood across from you. Sandy hair buzzed at the sides, and the top kept only a finger's length. The only thing not a complete mess about him being a meticulously kept beard. Most of his scars were on his hands and arms. Criss-crossing in thick bands. It was easy to see a few had once been stab wounds. Kuegler was Silco's messenger boy. His debt collector. And, if it came to that, your judge, jury, and executioner.
There were a couple fresh bruises and scrapes. A thin cut across his cheek. So, he hadn't been lying about getting beat. You had to play this right. You didn't want the favor to be returned.
The contents of the letter had your stomach tying itself in tight knots. In the year of transactions, never had you been tasked with any kind of 'late fee.' And it wasn't as if you'd been late by days. Just mere minutes.
"I can't do this," you insisted, waving the paper. "Is he insane?! - Actually, I already know that answer."
"This is yur price fer da late payment, song burd," Kuegler said, crossing is arms. The muscles rippled with every movement. If you weren't so worried he was going to break your neck, you might almost want to use him for an anatomy study.
"But this? This is valuable stuff, they'll notice if it's gone. - Isn't this pushing it?"
"You're pushin' it," Boulder warned.
You swallowed thickly. "All I'm saying is that stealing from the academy is risky. How am I supposed to -"
"Not our problem, sweet 'art," said Kuegler, shrugging. "Silco wants it. You figure out 'ow to deliver."
"What am I looking for? How do I know when I found it?" you asked.
Boulder took a step towards you, glaring down his nose. "Ain't our problem. Boss expects it in a fortnight."
"A fortnight..." you muttered, aghast. Then louder, "Two weeks?! You're kidding."
"You know Boulder 'ere doesn't 'ave a sense of 'umor," chuckled Kuegler, to which Boulder grunted. "You better pay up - and on time this round, girly."
"Or next time," growled Boulder, "your payment will be in blood."
"Trust me, he'll be far too 'appy ta juice ya."
"Where?" Your shaking voice betrayed you. "You can't come here again. It's too risky. - I-If I get banned from the academy, then Silco will never get what he wants."
"Girly has a point, bruver," Kuegler mused, stroking his beard. If you didn't know him, he might almost look contemplative. "It were already risky to 'ave this meetin'. Next time, we'll go to the usual place, then take ya 'round to da boss. Make sure you don't disappoint."
Kuegler moved like he was going to the door. Then his fist was coming at your face quicker than you could react. Pain exploded through your left eye, radiating across your cheek, through your ear, and down your deck. You crashed into the shelf behind you. The back of your head snapping hard against something. Shocks chased down your back then worked through your hips and tailbone as you hit the ground.
"Consider that a reminder," Kuegler said, "we'll be back in a week ta check yur progress. Don't worry - we'll find ya. As ya said, can't pay the boss's due if yer banned from this...fine...establishment. Let's go, Boulder. We got real werk ta be doin'."
You breathed hard through the pain. Each inhale a sharp jab. Eyes watering with it. Boulder grunted at you, then followed Kuegler out the door. Leaving it ajar. Don't cry, repeated over and over in your head. But the tears wouldn't stay in. They flowed freely, dripping onto your shirt. Soft sobs escaped your throat. You couldn't even curl into a ball or cover your face, the pain radiating through you was too much.
You didn't know how much longer you could do this.
Your fingers were still healing. They were more painful than you'd thought broken fingers would be. There was bound to be leagues of new bruises and cuts. Maybe even a concussion. You weren't a fighter. If you were, you never would've gone to the academy. You'd be rotting somewhere in Undercity with only blood to your name. The way it was going, that was all that was going to be left of you anyway.
It was a bit before the stinging faded. Before you could push yourself up on your feet without your legs collapsing. You had to wait for the bitter hate to pass, so that you didn't chase after the pair and pick a losing fight. Maybe if you let them kill you, your life would be payment enough. Maybe they'd leave your parents alone. But then you also wanted to survive, if only out of spite. You were going to crawl out from under Silco's thumb, even if it killed you.
"I hope Viktor's okay," you muttered, double checking before limping into the hall. "I hope he doesn't hate me too much. - Or maybe it would be better if he went to the professor..."
The trek back to the studio seemed to be miles long. Gratefully, it was empty. The side door ajar. Which meant Viktor had followed your instructions. You could only pray you'd held the pair off long enough for him to get back to the lab. You weren't sure what they would do if they found out he'd been there and overheard.
Slowly, you began to clean up your workspace. You soaked the paint off your brushes, put the canvas carefully back in the cubbie, along with the pallet once it was covered. The paint wouldn't dry, at least. Disappointment burned in your gut. You were actually having fun. Viktor was good company. Then, of course, they had to come and ruin it.
You would have to come back at night and finish what you started. Heimerdinger told you that you were welcome any time. Even during the late hours. You'd hoped you weren't going to need to take advantage of it. But maybe you could hide out here for a little while. The letter from Silco still burned behind your eyelids. It was short, but enough to fill you with unbridled dread.
You owe us a late fee.
Some of the academy's hextech will suffice.
Below it was his signature and a wax seal embossed with the Zaun symbol.
Hextech.
Of all things you could've been tasked to steal, it had to be hextech. Viktor's work. The thing he was worried the portrait sessions would detract from. It wasn't difficult to realize that work had been everything to him. And you were going to take it...
No.
You couldn't. The idea was entirely appalling. You wouldn't do that to him. To the people who counted on the advancements hextech made. If Silco got his hands on it... There had to be another way.
Something else.
Anything else.
If only you knew what you were looking for. You never looked at what Viktor had written in his notebooks. Maybe next time you saw him, you could pickpocket something. Then at least you'd know what to look for. You'd just have to make sure it got put back before the session was done. No - he'd notice, surely. There was no question of that. Viktor wasn't stupid. In fact, he was incredibly observant. Asking invasive questions, even though he didn't know they were. Things he could deduce just from watching you.
And you knew he watched you very intently.
Enough to where you had to force yourself to keep a straight face. Keep your eyes on the page as much as you could. Keep your distance. Fallon had put a thought into your head that you didn't want. One that tried to worm Viktor from just a pretty art subject into the realm of attractiveness that made your heart flutter. But you wouldn't do that to him. To anyone. Your life was a mess; you refused to bring anyone else into it.
Viktor would stay your art piece. Immortalized. Frozen. And, unfortunately, a means to end when all was said and done. You were regretting everything that lead you here. More people were getting involved than you wanted.
You were already regretting telling Fallon everything. What if Boulder and Kuegler found out she knew and went after her? She was just a kid. Her whole future was ahead of her. If only she wasn't such a fixer. She kept trying to weasel in and find ways to help. But there was nothing she, or anyone for that matter, could do to help straighten out this disaster. You only had yourself to rely on.
Right now, you just hoped Viktor would uphold his side of the bargain. Would it be easier if Heimerdinger just kicked you off academy grounds? Maybe. Still, the prospect made your stomach slosh. This had been your home away from home. You couldn't lose that.
Beyond that, if you were banned, word would spread like wildfire. No more paying jobs. No more clients, new or otherwise. You'd be forced to move back with your parents. Probably work for Silco until the end of your days. Just another piece of garbage left to rot.
But if you didn't find something to present Silco - you shuddered to think what would happen. They wouldn't just torture you. They'd go after everyone you cared about. Every person you'd ever made contact with. Including Viktor...dear sweet Viktor with his honey-colored eyes. Vats of liquid amber. You wouldn't be able to finish his portrait and hold up your side of the deal with Heimerdinger.
If they ever were sent after either of them... Viktor they'd force into servitude, putting that brilliant mind to work for whatever twisted things Silco wanted. The professor would probably be handed over to a Yordle hunter. Or they'd both be killed without hesitation just for being involved with you. Then your parents. Then Fallon. And you just couldn't bear the thought of signing their death warrants like that.
You scribbled a note to Viktor, something short and vague. Now to get it to him. But how? Where was his lab? You'd never gone to the engineering wing before. The last you wanted was to wander aimlessly. Heimerdinger would know. A pulsing pain in your eye reminded you of how you looked. The image confirmed when you passed the tall mirror. Scrapes and cuts up and down your arms, a few on your face. Blood leaked from your hair line and nose. Your eye was already bruising and swelling. You could hardly see.
The professor would know those thugs had been on campus. And who knew what kind of trouble that would bring.
Bag slung over your shoulder, you hurried from the studio. The halls were blessedly empty. With any luck, you'd be able to make it off campus without notice. Maybe you'd even be able to avoid Fallon.
You were lost in thought as you walked. There had to be some a way out. You didn't notice someone in the entrance hall until you crashed into them and you both fell in a scatter of papers. Which sent new waves of pain through your body.
But then you saw who it was - the Man of Progress himself. A councilman. Viktor's co-worker.
Jayce Talis.
You scrambled to pick up all the pages on the floor. Some were yours, sketches having fallen from your bag. Others were his. Pages of notes and calculations and runes. A shopping list, you were pretty sure. One page in particular caught your eye. It was a sketch of a device with runes on it. You snatched it, shoving it into your bag while he got his barring.
"Sorry about that," Jayce said. He scrambled to clean everything up. Handing over a few of the papers. "Guess we were both pre-occupied."
"It's fine," you chuckled, "You're Jayce, right?"
"Guilty."
He didn't sound the least bit shocked that you knew him. How many people came up to him in a day and started talking to him? He had to be recognized everywhere. His face was plastered all over the city.
"I think I painted your mom recently. She was a lovely woman."
Ximena Talis was truly one of the nicest people you'd ever met. She went on and on about Jayce the entire time. Gushing about his accomplishments and how proud she was. It almost sounded like she was trying to set you up.
"I thought so, I -" Jayce stopped short and when you looked up, you saw he was staring at you. Frowning. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah," you hurried, shoving the rest of your papers into your bag. "I had a bit of an oopsie earlier. Nothing serious. - Sorry, about running into you like that. I have to scoot. But it was really nice to meet you."
You shoved off the floor and rushed towards the front door. Ignoring the protests in your joints. Jayce was caught between picking up his papers and following you. He called after you. You used the opportunity to escape into the crowd of students starting to flood out of afternoon classes.
Your mind was reeling. There were arrangements to make. That drawing gave you an idea, you just hoped it would work. The trick was not to get caught. If Viktor stuck to his word, there was never going to be a favor big enough to repay him. But maybe you didn't have to break into the lab after all.
