[Vander listens with silent attention as they make their way over to the shop. He fixes his gaze on another of the lanterns on display, a small hand-held one that boasted a rather ornate, wrought iron handle. Yet as Sebastian continues his description of the city, Vander quickly finds himself turning his full attention back to the man. It is uncanny, how much of what he describes has a somewhat familiar ring to it.]
Funny thing, there. From the way you tell it, London doesn’t sound terribly far off from what my own home is like. At least in the broad strokes.
[Certainly not the crown of an empire, but the description of the city itself? Shockingly close enough to describe the home he’d known all his life. He laughs, something that’s perhaps more out of amused, almost-disbelief, rather than real humor.]
Piltover styles itself as a city of innovation, but it’s all built on the backs of us living in the undercity. It’s practically a city of it’s own, our Zaun. Got our own culture and customs, a stark difference from those in Piltover with their clean air and clean streets, hoarding all the wealth.
[There’s bitterness clear in his voice, but it’s… tired. The kind of bitterness that just gets brittle with age.]
We make due in our dim streets down in the fissures, grown used to the mines and the factories polluting our air… Tried our damnedest to seize any amount of independence, to make things better, but topside wouldn’t have any of that from us.
[Nothing like that ever is easy, is it?]
So I wouldn’t say it’s what most would call cheerful. [He shifts a shoulder in something of a shrug, a more easy-going motion than he rightly feels, talking about it like this.] But it’s ours and we make the best of it.
no subject
Funny thing, there. From the way you tell it, London doesn’t sound terribly far off from what my own home is like. At least in the broad strokes.
[Certainly not the crown of an empire, but the description of the city itself? Shockingly close enough to describe the home he’d known all his life. He laughs, something that’s perhaps more out of amused, almost-disbelief, rather than real humor.]
Piltover styles itself as a city of innovation, but it’s all built on the backs of us living in the undercity. It’s practically a city of it’s own, our Zaun. Got our own culture and customs, a stark difference from those in Piltover with their clean air and clean streets, hoarding all the wealth.
[There’s bitterness clear in his voice, but it’s… tired. The kind of bitterness that just gets brittle with age.]
We make due in our dim streets down in the fissures, grown used to the mines and the factories polluting our air… Tried our damnedest to seize any amount of independence, to make things better, but topside wouldn’t have any of that from us.
[Nothing like that ever is easy, is it?]
So I wouldn’t say it’s what most would call cheerful. [He shifts a shoulder in something of a shrug, a more easy-going motion than he rightly feels, talking about it like this.] But it’s ours and we make the best of it.