flstandardbreds Chapter 4: Episode 4: Shopping
Chapter 4: Episode 4: Shopping
Chapter 4 - Episode 4: ShoppingIn the night, the Last Drop was quieter, the usual chaos of Zaun muffled by the late hour. The gang lounged around the dimly lit room, their bellies full and spirits high. Powder sat cross-legged on the floor, tinkering with a small contraption, her face glowing with quiet joy.
Bael leaned against a corner, absentmindedly sketching something on a scrap of paper.
Vi stretched her arms, yawning. "Alright, I'm calling it. Long day, you brats better get some sleep. We've got another tomorrow."
Mylo groaned, sprawling out on a bench. "Ugh, can't we have one day where we don't think about tomorrow?"
"Not in Zaun," Claggor said with a shrug, leaning back on his chair.
Vander, standing at the bar, gave them a knowing smile. "Rest up, kids. You've earned it tonight. Tomorrow... well, we'll deal with it when it comes."
One by one, the gang began to settle down. Powder, still focused on her gadget, hesitated when she saw Bael packing up his sketches. She got up and shuffled over, her voice quiet.
"Bael, you going back to your place?"
"Yeah," he said softly. "I've got some things to work on."
She tugged lightly at his sleeve, her eyes wide. "Stay here tonight. Please?"
Bael blinked, then smiled faintly. "Alright, just for tonight."
The night embraced them in its quiet, the warmth of their makeshift family holding back the darkness of their world.
Morning.
In the morning, the Last Drop was quiet, the gang still lost in the heaviness of sleep. Powder stirred first, rubbing her eyes and stretching as she looked around the room. She spotted Bael slumped over at the table, his head resting on a pile of crumpled blueprints and sketches.
She got up quietly, shuffling toward the bar where a few leftover cans of food sat. Gathering what she could, she arranged a simple breakfast on the table.
Bael groaned softly, lifting his head. His hair was a mess, and the faint imprint of a gear sketch was pressed into his cheek. He blinked at the sight of Powder setting up breakfast and managed a faint smile.
"Morning," she said cheerfully, placing a dented can in front of him.
"Morning," he replied, his voice raspy from sleep. He glanced at the food and chuckled softly. "You didn't have to."
"I wanted to," Powder said, sitting across from him. She took a bite of her own food, grinning. "Besides, you looked like you needed it. You were drooling all over your papers."
Bael shook his head, laughing lightly. "Thanks. Though... I wish I could get you something better than this."
Powder waved him off. "It's fine. Really. You're the best, Bael."
"...I'm gonna go out today." He says.
Bael planned on going to Piltover incognito to see if he could find something that'd help him in his re
"Wait," Bael tried, desperation creeping into his tone. "Can I buy what I can with this? Just a few essentials—"
"Not for sale anymore," the shop owner snapped, crossing his arms. "Come back when you've got real money."
Humiliated, Bael turned toward the door. Outside, the figure observing him shifted slightly, sighing as she prepared to leave. He wasn't worth her time—just another poor Zaunite out of his depth.
But as Bael reached for the door, dark thoughts began to swirl in his mind. He stopped, frozen in place. His fists clenched, and his heart pounded with a simmering rage.
Was this how it was going to be? Groveling for scraps in a world where no one cared? He felt the weight of his failure pressing down on him. No. He wasn't going to walk away like this.
Bael turned back around, his eyes cold and sharp, his gaze boring into the shop owner. The air in the room seemed to shift as Bael took a slow step forward. "You're wrong if you think I'm leaving empty-handed," he said, his voice low and cutting.
Feeling his pride hit, the shopowner leave the counter and walks to Bael and faces him face to face, "And what's do you think you're gonna do about it, young man?" He threatened, his air imposing and intimidating.
Bael's eyes burned, his grip tightening on the pistol. Every failure, every humiliation, every damn time the world spat on him and his people, it all came rushing back.
"I trusted you," Bael muttered, more to himself than to the man before him. "I thought maybe... maybe someone would treat me as an equal for once. But no. You're just like all the others."
"Look, I'll make it right," the shop owner said quickly, panic creeping into his voice. "That gadget of yours-it's brilliant! I'll trade you all the tools you want, maybe even more! Just-just don't do this."
Bael's heart thundered in his chest, his mind screaming at him to stop. But that crack inside him deepened, and a part of him snapped.
"I don't want the tools anymore," Bael said coldly, his voice hollow. He steadied the pistol, locking eyes with the man. "I want you dead."
The shop owner's face twisted in fear, but before he could speak, Bael pulled the trigger.
(A/N: Yall liking this so far? Give me a score from 1-10...
Consider leaving a review! 10 reviews before Sunday and I'll upload the very next day!
Leave any spare powers tones if you have any. And thanks for your support.)