~ SPOILERS for the 4th episode of Arcane ~

(this is the setting for "The Snake")

The scales each bore a small perforation, which allowed them to remain linked together on a metallic thread. Movement along the string was permitted by miniscule gaps in between the painted ornaments. The peculiar arrangement - that those scales had been savagely ripped off of their past owner for - was a bracelet. None of the scales were much larger than half an inch and they had once all belonged to the same snake. Currently, though, they were dangling from a wrist, occasionally slipping across the beginning of a forearm when their previous master's murderer moved their arm upright. Agile fingers, showcasing long nails that were altered in color, repeatedly tugged at the piece of jewelry. With every release, around six scales clapped nearly inaudibly against the skin of the wrist, above veins that were difficult to discern among a pattern of ink.

That evening, Hiedra wore snakeskin knee-high boots to match her lucky bracelet. It wasn't a real lucky charm, but rather her favorite, most iconic and trademark item to wear, she almost never took it off. It was a reminder of her strength, an ode to her origins. Whenever the prostitute glimpsed at it, she remembered everything she had overcome to obtain it, all she had suffered to get where she was.

The stars twinkled brightly, miniature diamonds sprinkled onto the deep navy canvas of the twilight sky. A few gray clouds hid the moon, lazily flowing, steered by the gentle breeze. As always, the night was beautiful to behold in Piltover.

The young immortal sat on the cement border of a storage building's roof, her pupils gliding over the deceivingly peaceful scenery. Her feet swayed in the emptiness, and she distractedly pulled on her bracelet, waiting for them to show up. The sooner this was over with, the quicker she could get out of the blouse her sisters had insisted that she wore. Dark brown leather pants and an intricate belt kept her outfit true to her personal style, but the long-sleeved light pink shirt had seemed to strangle her even more than a literal choker necklace. It was excruciatingly opaque and stiff, her curves were not highlighted at all. To attempt proving that she was more than a hot elf-like creature, she at least had to look like a desirable sexual being. Therefore, the hooker had rolled up the sleeves and completely undone the row of pearl buttons that once sealed the front of the element of clothing, to expose a black leather brassiere with bronze studs along the bottom.

Scanning her surroundings, the traveller perceived anxiety, hope, annoyance, apprehension... They had seemingly arrived.

The wooden door that led to the inside of the Academy-owned building swung open in her back, its slight creaking followed by a voice:

   "Good, you're here. He's ready to meet you." It belonged to none other than the famous Jayce Talis. Minimally relieved, but his nervousness was palpable.

She twirled around, slithering off the relatively narrow platform.

   "Did you really believe I wouldn't show up?" she taunted.

   "I, uh..." He was hesitating, watching her stride over past him and heading for the doorframe.

The inventor unexpectedly stopped her in her tracks, grabbing her right shoulder before she could enter the storage facility.

   "Don't let me down."

It was not a mere request, but an order. The young man had given her his trust, now, she needed to prove that she was worthy of it by making a most excellent impression on his research partner.

The prostitute whirled around to her left, with her high ponytail grazing her back, and ended up standing less than an inch from him.

   "I would never," Hiedra ironically answered.

The courtesan's lips were covered in light brownish red lipstick and they stretched into a delightfully playful smile as she propped herself up on her toes to wink at him. In a brief second, she stroked his neck with her hand and revolved to head through the doorframe.

Jayce followed her in, and after two short flights of stairs, they reached the ground level. Two lanterns rested on workbenches around the main storage room, illuminating the metallic highlights of the material that was stored on the hundreds of shelves... And the associate in question, seated on an anything but sturdy-looking chair.

   "Jillian, this is..."

She interrupted her contact, both startled and amazed: "Viktor!"

Of course, the second their eyes had met, she had recognized him. She would have noticed those pale brown eyes, so intelligent, so defiant, so determined, anywhere.

   "What an hilarious coincidence..." she noted, advancing towards him.

The momentary questioning inside his eyes rapidly morphed into anger. "You..."

Clenching his cane, he tilted it so it would point at her, with its heel still pressed against the ground.

   "Leave, now. This partnership isn't going to happen." His tone was flat, hardened by contempt.

He deftly ran his hand up the shaft of his cane to hold it by its handle again, staring at her with a furious glare. The female did not budge in the slightest, neither did she cease walking. Under his offended look, she positioned herself right in front of him, placing her hands on her hips.

   "I beg to differ, darling."

   "You are not welcome here," he hissed, averting his eyes from her bright orange irises.

   "On the contrary, my presence here is most welcome, isn't it, Mr. Talis?"

The Piltovan, although uneasy and disappointed, inquired: "So, how do you two know each other..?"

   "Irrelevant. Tell her to leave at once, Jayce."

In appearance, the Zaunite remained calm, nearly bored. The thundering commotion that circled his pupils betrayed his inner turmoil, though. Hiedra's innate gift of sensing the emotions of others allowed her to pick up on it. She knew just how deeply torn he felt. Viktor's friend cleared his throat and attempted to convince him to change his mind.

   "Just hear me out, Viktor. Jillian is a mage, the kind of help she could..."

   "Whatever she's told you, Jayce, forget it. She will be of no help to us."

   "At least, give her a chance..." The young man trailed off, ejected out of his sentence by the loud clanging of the scientist's cane against the floor.

Viktor pushed himself up and began limping away, ignoring Jayce and Hiedra entirely.

   "Now, now, Viktor... No need to act with such haste," she chided.

The constant, hurried clicking of his cane's heel was the only sound, accompanied by the dragging noise of his weak foot. The golden-eyed man threw his new associate a panicked glance.

   "I'm sorry, if you let me..."

She had started to turn to see Jayce and she abruptly did a complete 180, cutting him off:

   "Viktor..!" Her voice was sing-songy, mocking. "I'm certain the Council will be very interested to learn who taught you in the Undercity," she completed, her intonation clear and biting, her words sharper than a double-edged blade.

The young disabled man froze on the spot. His shoulders dropped with a defeated sigh and he slowly made his way back to his chair, silently surveyed by them.

   "Who..?"

   "Irrelevant, as I'm sure Viktor here will agree."

Bewildered, the dark-haired man gawked at the hooker, deciding not to dig any further and grant his fellow scientist some privacy. Heimerdinger's assistant slouched onto his chair, aggravated, and snapped:

   "Proceed."

His colleague readjusted his jacket nervously, mentally modifying the speech he had meticulously prepared earlier that day.

   "The fact that you clearly have some kind of history doesn't mean we can't come to an agreement. Jillian, could you..?"

For the umpteenth occurrence, he was interrupted.

   "Is that even your real name?" The Zaunite inventor was blatantly pessimistic and seemingly uninterested by the exchange.

The woman guffawed, pulling a carton of cigarettes out from her pants' right back pocket. She thoughtfully flipped it open and slowly began sliding a cigarette out, discarding Jayce's utterly confused expression.

   "Don't smoke in here," Viktor half-heartedly demanded, but she only held the stick between her lips, searching for her lighter inside her other pockets.

The Piltovan still had enough motivation and the hope that she would listen to reason, so he added: "You risk damaging the equipment and, most likely, revealing our intrusion."

His effort was in vain, she rolled her eyes and masterfully spun the flint wheel, igniting a short, vivid flame that matched the tint of her irises. Before she lit up her cigarette, though, she offered them one last chance. She gave Viktor one, more precisely, in the form of arching her left eyebrow at him.

   "I do not believe that you are stupid."

In a swift motion, she brought her lighter down and got rid of the flame. Nevertheless, the sex worker's hand was clutching the pale golden case. She could feel the designs that had been etched into its sides, against her palm. The engravings were identical on each part, they were simple symbols that mirrored one another easily. She skimmed the four carved flowers, one by one, ending with the largest one, with her thumb. They represented her sisters, and the main flower was Dee's favorite. Logically enough, the lighter Hiedra carried during that particular period in time was a gift from her. After all, the element the quadruplet could control was fire, so the correlation was natural.