The Good Life: Freedom (ch. 87)

Prison wasn't that bad once you got used to it. The thought felt heretical compared to how she felt when she first arrived. The grime and mold covered concrete walls and floor with the iron bars over too small cells had felt suffocating. Maddening. She hadn't realized it then, but that was part of the process. The first months were spent gnawing at the bars to escape, the second was spent carving out a niche for yourself, and everything after that… 

Vi hadn't realized it, but she had become a model prisoner. 

“Ahhhhh!” A man screamed at the top of his lungs as Vi snapped his arm like a twig, making him collapse to his knees. Letting go of his arm, she then grabbed the back of his head and brought it to meet her knee that flattened his nose in a spray of blood. A second knee was to get the message across, but the third was for the audience of her cell block. The challenger was knocked back, groaning and whimpering as he clutched his arm to his chest like a broken wing. 

Violence was the language of choice in Stillwater Hold, and Vi spoke it fluently. Vander had taught her all that he knew about fighting -- though some lessons didn't manage to stick, like using it only to defend herself or running away when things looked bad. The streets were her second teacher, and she learned well. Throwing a punch was one thing, but learning how to kick someone in the cunt was just as important as learning how to take a kick to the cunt. 

Stillwater Hold, however, was where she put it all into practice. 

“Please… please… I'm sorry, I…!” The man on the ground begged while Vi circled him, cutting him off by putting a boot to his neck. 

“Did I beat some sense into that thick skull of yours? You finally figure out what ‘No’ means?” Vi asked him, making him gargle wetly under her boot. 

Stillwater, in theory, was supposed to have gendered cell blocks. In theory, it was also supposed to be a place of rehabilitation for the criminal elements that seemed to be exclusively found in the Undercity. The prison was overstuffed by twice over what it was meant to contain, so creature comforts like gendered cell blocks or not having to share a toilet with fifty other people became a myth. 

Instead, you got grouped together by severity. Rapists went with rapists. Murderers went with murderers. That was the general idea, at least. Even that didn't work all the time, like with the piece of shit that was currently staining her boot with his blood. 

“I bet it was a real fucking wet dream come true when you stepped foot in my cellblock,” Vi continued, leaning forward. “A buffet of pussy, and we were trapped in a concrete box with you.” Spillover was inevitable. As inhuman as Stillwater was, it wouldn't stuff a hundred men in a cell that could barely fit twenty. But they were still inhumane enough to put a rapist in her cell block, which was mostly filled with women. 

“I'm sorry,” Fuckface rasped, his eyes filled with fear. 

“You will be,” Vi promised him. She was the leader of the cell block, a title that she won through violence. Fuckface thought because he had fifty pounds and a foot of height on her, he could beat her down, take her position, and live out his mastabatory power fantasies of extorting sex for protection. “I'm going to transfer you out of the cell block, but that'll take about a month. So, until then, you don't fucking look at any of us. Eyes down on the floor at all fucking time, and when you bust a nut, you stuff that pathetic dick of yours between the bars and dump it there. Understood?” 

Fuckface nodded, going blue in the face, and her foot lingered for a few seconds more to get the message across. Letting up the pressure, Fuckface scooted away from her until he ran himself into a corner. Vi tsked, mean mugging him for a second before she checked the rest of her cell block. 

Thirty-five faces in total. Most of them had been here since she’d first arrived. The cell block was broken up into two floors, with ‘private’ cells meant to house one person instead housing three. The only entrance and exit to the cell block was the iron grated door behind her, which let them peer into the cell block across from them. 

She wasn't looking for approval, though it was there. She was looking for a challenge. Some sign of defiance. Someone who had hoped that she'd lose the fight and a way to the top had been opened for them. 

If there was any, then her blockmates were hiding it well. Her guard wouldn't drop, though. It couldn't. Not all the violence happened out in the open. Prison had its own unique brand of politics -- shivs in the kidneys, giving hand jobs to guards to isolate someone or look the other way when someone made a move. Or the guards deciding that you had a little too much influence and beating you to an inch of your life just to remind everyone who was in charge of Stillwater. 

Death came fast, it came without warning, and if you were caught lacking… Everyone else only needed to get lucky once. Once, and that was it. 

Turning her back to her blockmates, she called out through the bars. “Galliard! We had an accident in D-12! Someone tripped, broke their nose and arm,” she called out. Down the hall of the block of cell blocks, she heard Galliard sigh before his heavy set footsteps gave away his approach. 

Galliard could have been a handsome guy if it wasn't for the fact that he was massively overweight, didn't bathe, and his mop of hair looked so greasy she could wring it out like a cloth. His beady dark eyes looked to her, then to Fuckface. His expression didn't so much as twitch. “Clumsy guy,” he noted, knowing that it was a bald face lie and not even pretending to investigate or care. “Back to your cells,” he instructed, with a shooing gesture. 

Vi nodded, and they all headed to their cramped cells. The bed was embedded into the walls, and when they gave up on one person per cell, they carved a second bed above the first. The third person was stuck sleeping on the floor. Which, honestly, was the best spot. And to think that she used to complain to Vander about having to share the basement with Powder. 

Galliard waited until everyone was back in their cells before entering the cell block to grab Fuckface and drag him off to the infirmary. There he would stay for a week, and they wouldn't have to deal with him. But, as he turned to leave, he looked over at Vi. “While I'm here, I might as well give you lot the news -- the Council is starting up a work program so you can work some time off your sentence. Every hour logged is five off your time in our humble abode.” 

Vi found herself gripping the bars of her cell with white knuckles, “When does it start up?” Would she qualify? What was the cut off? 

“Sign ups happen today, but the work starts tomorrow,” Galliard answered, his tone disinterested in the information that meant everything to her. To them. “I think it's meant for non-violent offenders only. So, if you want to change your crime to qualify… eh, you know my price.” There was the Stillwater bureaucracy that she came to know and love. Openly corrupt and downright shameless of it. Honestly, she found it a little endearing. 

“I'll throw in an extra box, just for you Galliard,” Vi replied, a grin tugging at her lips. 

“That's why you're my favorite, Vi,” Galliard replied, and for the first time he offered a smirk. With that, he grabbed Fuckface and started shoving him out of sight. Once they were both gone, Vi let out a small shuddering breath as she rested her forehead against cold iron. 

A work release program. She had heard how Piltover and the Undercity had both been fucked up by something, but the story changed every time -- from literal gods descending to Noxus invading to Piltover and the Undercity going to war with each other. The only thing that was clear about what happened is that no one really knew what happened. 

But this was her chance. It took a year of being imprisoned before she’d realized that escape wasn't feasible. Not without a plan and connections. She had plans, of course. Just not connections. It was why she bothered becoming a cell boss in the first place. To make those connections so she could get the gear needed to escape in the first place. 

But this was an opportunity. The hardest part of escaping Stillwater was the fact that it was located on an island with only a boat or rail car connecting it to the mainland. Given that the water around the city was toxic and freezing and probably filled with mutant monster fish, it was next to impossible to swim across. But a work program completely eliminated that hurdle, which she had been banging her head on for months. 

Vi took in a slow deep breath, and the air carried the taste of freedom. 

“I'm coming, Powder.” 

…

Topside didn't really care who they sent out of Stillwater, so long as the job got done. Every crook, low-life, and degenerate in the Hold got their chance to venture beyond the walls, and Vi was among them.

A gust of wind brought with it the realization that she had forgotten what fresh air smelled like. Stillwater was probably emptier than it had ever been, with the vast majority of its inmates chained together in the city, working in a line as they passed on buckets full of rubble down. 

Vi had heard about the devastation that had been delivered to Topside during her stay, but all the rumors hadn't been able to prepare her for the sight of it. The toppled buildings and the broken streets -- it seemed like nothing less than a miracle that the whole city wasn't dead. When she heard that the death toll was in the hundreds instead of the thousands, she thought that meant that they just hadn't found most of the bodies.

“Need you to move this one!” Vi heard someone call out to her and she looked over to see that they were gesturing to a large stone. Rolling her shoulders, her tie to the formation offered her a little more freedom of movement, letting her walk the length of the line. In exchange, though, manacles were placed around her ankles to prevent her from running too far. It was part of the reason why she made sure that she got the position… 

The other part was the gauntlets that she wore. They were ugly as sin, oversized, but perfect for the work that they had her doing. 

The Atlas Gauntlets hissed as Vi warmed them up, approaching the boulder with oversized hands open. Placing the gauntlets on both sides of the boulder, she gave it a little pulse that had the boulder breaking into much smaller pieces. Then, once she did, with the oversized fingers, she grabbed some before walking down the line. 

Her gaze caught Shifty. Vi didn't know his name, frankly she doubted that anyone did. He had well earned his nickname, however, as in all of Stillwater, there wasn't a shiftier bastard. He was scrawny, with a large nose that looked like a particularly ugly bird’s beak, and while he was tall he made himself seem smaller than he was with a permanent slouch. He pretended like he didn't notice her as he grabbed the bucket of rubble. 

His hand slipped, spilling the contents over her feet, giving Vi reason to pause. His hands moved to pick up the bucket, and as he did so, Vi felt a lockpick being shoved into her boot. “Watch it,” Vi snapped at him, yanking her foot out of the rubble.

The interaction was watched by the Enforcers. Dozens of them were watching the prisoners like hawks, rifles at the ready incase any of them got any bright ideas. Vi in particular was being watched because of the Atlas Gauntlets. If used right, they would make for a pretty great weapon. Or used wrong, she guessed, from a Pilty's perspective. 

The exchange went unnoticed, however. Typical Enforcers -- unless it let them feel big and strong, they couldn't give a damn about what happened right under their noses. 

Her plan to escape was just one of many, Vi knew. There were dozens of whispered plots that her fellow prisoners talked about in the dead of night or along the line as they labored. Every single one of them knew what an opportunity this was. How close freedom was at hand. And how bitter everyone was at being forced to clean up Piltover while the Undercity was filled with the Gray.

Vi kept her finger on the pulse of it all, mimicking what she saw Vander do a thousand times. Being a cell boss gave you connections, people coming to you for this or that, bringing you things or rumors for favors. It made it easy for her to keep an eye on her people. Which allowed her to make her own plans around their plans. By that… she meant she could use their shit plans for her own gain, using them as a distraction while she cut and ran. 

It was just a waiting game at this point, looking for that moment of opportunity. 

Until then? She worked and labored to clean up Piltover’s mess. 

“So, how are we looking, Tanya?” Vi heard as she carried the large stones, and she turned her gaze to a pair that were standing on top of a mound of rubble, looking over the project. A man and a little girl. The man was someone she recognized, if only because his face was slapped on every poster. He was handsome -- dark hair, intense eyes, tall and solidly built. Her preferences usually leaned towards women, but she could appreciate a handsome man. 

He was joined by a little girl, who eyed the workflow with a critical glare, as if the sloppy work was a personal offense to her. “We’re behind schedule, Mr. Trafalgar. This district was meant to be done already, and instead, we’re barely two-thirds of the way through. This is going to delay our rezoning efforts considerably.” That wasn’t how a little kid talked, but Law Trafalgar didn’t seem to notice. 

“Yeah. That deadline was never going to happen,” Law admitted, his tone casual as he rubbed the top of Tanya’s head. Vi walked by as she pretended not to listen in. She was a little curious about one of the wonder pair. Especially with the rumors about him that had managed to reach Stillwater in the immediate aftermath -- how he was throwing his weight behind the Undercity. That bit of news was as welcomed as learning that Silco was appointed to the Council was unwelcome. 

“This is extortion,” Tanya gripped under her breath. 

“It's how the game is played,” Law corrected, sounding unbothered by getting the screws put on him. 

“It's senseless,” Tanya argued all the same. “Noxus is already confirmed to be coming. Setbacks like these all but ensure the prospect of being viewed as weak to those warmongers!” 

Law chuckled, “No one said that you had to be smart to join the Council. Just rich and well connected,” Law pointed out. “And that Noxian party is Mel's mother, Ambessa. Here to check in on her daughter with her five hundred bodyguards. Dangerous times, so she said.” Noxus was coming? There was a point in time that the idea would have filled her with dread and anger. 

And it still did, for a part of her. But that part was completely overshadowed by concern for Powder. If she was still alive, then nothing on this planet was going stop her from finding her sister- 

“Runners!” The sudden shout nearly made Vi jump out of her skin, thinking they were talking about her. As if they had sniffed out her plans and were taking her out early. But that thought was put to rest when out of the corner of her eye she saw another chain of prisoners that had been working nearby abruptly break apart and sprint in every direction. “The prisoners are escaping!” 

It took all of three seconds for the sound of gunfire to ring out, followed by the sight of bodies hitting the dirt, blood spreading around the bullet wounds on their backs or chest. Vi hissed at the sight -- she knew about that plan. Someone had pulled the trigger early. 

Her gaze snapped to the Enforcers, who started to spread out while a handful closed in, moving to secure their group so they couldn't get into any mischief. It was too early. She wasn't quite ready. But she knew that after this, the Enforcers would clamp down hard. At best, it would set her plans back. At worst, the Council would wisen up and figure out that this work program was a terrible idea. 

Meaning that it was now or never. 

Vi made the split second decision, dropping to her knees in a fake surrender, but when the Enforcer’s went to grab her, she slugged one in the chest, sending him flying away with every rib shattered. Just as the guns were leveled in her direction, Vi activated the bubble shield that was meant to protect her from falling rubble or cave ins. Turns out that a shield capable of withstanding tons of stone falling on it made it great for blocking bullets. 

They bounced off the shield while Vi reached down and tore the manacles that hobbled her movement, the gauntlets, effortlessly ripping the steel like it was made of paper. The action, however, cost her precious seconds. As she was freed, the Enforcers decided to target her as she was the one wielding weapons and had already taken one of them out. 

The next few seconds were a time of action. With the shield still up, she closed in on the Enforcers, throwing herself into the thick of them as she lashed out with her gauntleted fists. Every blow delivered was crippling if not outright fatal. Bones shattered like glass, blood flew free in arcs and falling in fat drops like rain. Vi didn’t pull her punches. Not on people who were trying to kill her. 

The shield flickered out after a few more seconds, leaving her to use the oversized gauntlets as a shield for her torso. A bullet pinged off of it, and she saw another batch of Enforcers responding to the fight. Tsking under her breath, her eyes scanned for options… and she grinned when she found one. 

Darting forward, she sprinted through a group of three Enforcers as she batted one away with a backhand, before leaping up the rubble to where the boy wonder stood. Something was wrong, she knew deep in her gut as she lunged for him. Law watched the action happen, not bothering to flinch or dodge with his eyes laughing at a joke only he could hear. Something was wrong, but she was already committed to wrapping a hand around him, and squeezing down on his neck with two fingers. 

“If you don’t want his head to come off, then fuck off!” Vi shouted, using the gauntlets to pick Law up as she shuffled away, heading to a trash chute that she knew was still functional. 

“Ah. Help. Save me. I’m in danger,” Law said, his voice dull and monotone, completely unbothered with being taken hostage. Or the guns that were being pointed at him as Vi used him as a human shield. 

“Don’t follow me if you want to see him alive,” Vi shouted out, dipping behind a pile of rubble before running as fast as she could. The gauntlets took care of Law’s deadweight, and whatever the gauntlets were made of they didn’t weigh a fraction of what they should have, so she wasn’t slowed down much as she ran. “Hold on and shut up, and you might just live through this,” she told Law as she ran, skidding down a pile of rubble, causing an avalanche of it in her wake. 

“Not exactly how I imagined our meeting going, but this works for me, I guess,” Law remarked, nearly making Vi trip as she dipped between two crumbled buildings. 

“I don’t know you,” she remarked to him, daring to check over her shoulder and it was a cold comfort that she didn’t see any Enforcers. She could hear them shouting behind her, though. They were chasing them down. 

“But I know you, Vi,” Law replied, and it took everything she had not to squeeze his head until it came off. That tone. How he said it… It made her feel like he was exactly where he wanted to be, and this was part of some plan of his. “I was planning to help you out, you know? No need to take me hostage- take a left here.”

“Why would I believe that?” Vi snapped, skidding to a stop in a fork in the road. She was tempted to go right out of spite, but then Law gave an answer. 

“For the same reason why I didn’t say anything about the lockpick in your boot,” Law answered, and she stilled. He saw that? And didn’t say anything? That didn’t mean he was willing to help her, but it did prove that he wasn’t a narc, which did admittedly earn him a few points in her book. However begrudgingly. “So, go left.”

Fuck it. She went left. “Why would you want to help me? How do you even know about me?” She snapped, finding that she was entirely uncomfortable with the situation as she carried him through the broken and busted streets of Piltover. 

“You really think that you’re the first that got dropped off in Stillwater with no official records? Just put on ice until someone remembers that you’re supposed to exist?” Law asked, and Vi swallowed a flash of rage at the reminder. One moment, she saw Silco leaning over her little sister, and the next, she was grabbed from behind. Whoever grabbed her drugged her, and when she woke up? She was in a cell in Stillwater, where she had remained for years. “Take a right.”

Fuck. Before she was even aware of it, she was doing what he said, going right that took her across another street, and she saw it. A trash chute. She could go down there, head into the Undercity, and then she’d be home free. “That doesn’t answer my first question,” Vi replied, running full tilt. She was at the home stretch. Freedom was in her grasp. 

“Vander saved my life as a kid,” Law answered, and out of everything he could have possibly said, that was the very last thing she expected. She nearly dropped him in surprise. Her grip must have slipped, though, as Law was easily able to extract himself from her grasp as they arrived at the trash chute. She looked at him with wide eyes, unable to swallow her surprise. “I’m from the Undercity. We didn’t exactly swim in the same circles, but I was familiar with you, at least. Vander got me out of a tough spot, and… well, here I am. Feels like it'd be a little ungrateful if I left you to rot in prison.”

It wasn’t often that Vi found herself speechless. He was helping her because of Vander? She felt a surge of just… emotions surge up from within her. She wasn’t even sure what the emotions were, if she was being completely honest. Shock, surprise, disbelief… but gratitude was tossed in there as well. And relief that people still remembered Vander and all that he did for them. 

Law adjusted his shirt, turning to face her and his expression still displayed that same dry amusement. Vi realized that she should say something, but there were too many things. Too many questions. Instead, she forced a smirk onto her face, “You mean you conned the Pilties into kissing your ass? Not bad,” she admitted. One of Piltover's golden boys was from the Undercity. That was one hell of a con. 

“Thanks,” Law replied, glancing down the alley they had come down. “Well, I thought we’d have more time for it… But I have an offer. Think on it while you’re lying low,” Law said, and she heard the distant shouts. 

Vi cocked her head, her eyes narrowing a fraction as the situation started feeling a bit more familiar. It felt better knowing that he wanted something from her than he was willing to help her out of the goodness of his heart. “What’s the offer?”

“I need you to kill Silco for me,” Law answered bluntly and she recoiled ever so slightly. 

Then a grin spread across her face. 

“Well, I was going to do that anyway, but getting paid to do it would be nice.”