Luxurious Anarchy (Lux/Jinx)

Chapter 22: Black Wave

"The dockworkers are not pleased with the current state of affairs I'm afraid," Councilman Talis muttered, setting aside a cup of tea that looked positively diminutive in his hands. "But, so far, there have been no riots or strikes concerning the mandatory overtime."

"Beyond that," Councilwoman Medarda said from over the lip of her wine glass, "the merchants and traders who use the Pilt are unsatisfied by the slow down caused by the loss of half of our docks due to, ahem, unrest."

Heimerdinger bristled at the councilwoman's pointed stare, and set his own cup of tea down with a rattle, the small tray of fine porcelain threatening to break. "The unrest you seem keen to tiptoe around is not the fault of this council. It is an unnatural state, caused by a terrorist who we are trying to ... remove from this city."

The pointed stare turned withering, "Just admit that we're trying to kill her, Councilman Heimerdinger, it's more respectable."

Heimerdinger did not reply, but picked up his tea, staring into the long since cooled broth of dried leaves. When news had reached them, of the Home Guard's fate, it had cast into sharp relief the question that Heimerdinger had not asked himself at the start of his push to execute Jinx.

"How many souls are we willing to expend, in the pursuit of snuffing out the arcane?" he murmured, watching two fragments of tea leaf dance and swim in the tea. The memories of the wars, of what magic could do when unchained from the rational and the pragmatic, gave him the strength to harden his heart. He drained the cup of tea, and refocused his mind on other matters.

For the last week, there had been precious little news out of the southern half of Piltover, or the undercity that was there. The lockdown had been a grim necessity, a proposition forwarded by Bolbok just hours after first company had departed on their hunt. If Jinx had managed to slip through the Home Guard's fingers, it would make sense that she would try to strike across the Pilt. So, by majority agreement, a blockade had been put in place. Until Jinx was dealt with, no one was permitted to cross the river, under punishment most lethal.

That last little detail had almost cost Bolbok Heimerdinger's vote, but the simple truth is that they could not risk letting Jinx cross the Pilt, either to escape, or to strike back at them in her lunatic rage.

Heimerdinger drummed his fingers on the tabletop, frustrated that they lacked something so simple as a non-lethal measure to prevent Jinx from slipping the net. Perhaps Jayce and Viktor could be persuaded to work on some sort of non-lethal firearm, a peacekeeping measure, not an instrument of war. Or, with a bit of time, Heimerdinger supposed he could devise an adjustment to the preexisting repeaters the Enforcers and Home Guard used, some sort of change to their munitions that rendered their shots less than lethal.

"Are we sure we cannot allow for evacuations?"

Heimerdinger blinked, and looked at Councilwoman Shoola, her question shaking him from his contemplations. The concepts would wait for another time. If nothing else, he would always have time on his side.

Councilmember Bolbok shook his head, a smooth, oiled motion. Heimerdinger blew out his mustache at the thought, too practiced to laugh at the mechanized soul. As much as he did not care for the councilmember's flagrant dislike for the undercity and the souls born across the river, he could respect another surviver of the Rune Wars. They had earned that much, especially now that the horrors of the past were clawing their way back from the dustbin of history.

"I will say this again, I will say this every day and every meeting if I must," Bolbok intoned, his synthesized voice a thing of harsh lectures and reprimands, "Citizens in district six cannot be allowed to cross the Pilt. Not until the arcane is controlled by Hextech and Hextech alone."