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The lands of Piltover and Zaun are like two sides of the same coin. They could not be more different, yet they are intertwined in every way.

Piltover, also known as "The City of Progress," or "Topside," is home to the rich, the intelligent and to the showmen. Piltover is a thriving metropolis dedicated to progress and research.

Zaun is everything Piltover isn't. Known as the "City of Iron and Glass," "the Fissures," or "the Undercity," Zaun is home to those who can't afford to live the flashy life the way people of Piltover do.

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Yvonne stepped out onto her balcony overlooking the sprawling city of Piltover. The Day of Progress had arrived, and Yvonne was not excited. A day to show off her success and talent? There was no such day on the calendar year, where Yvonne did not do that. Progress day was simply an excuse for less talented inventors and scientists to pretend like they had accomplished anything. Yvonne knew her achievements spoke for themselves; she did not need the opinion of the uneducated to validate her hard work. "Miss, the council has sent a letter addressed to you." Yvonne's gaze snapped back to her assistant, Aemilia. Yvonne let out an exasperated sigh. Aemilia gave her a grim smile, "Should I leave it in the pile with the rest of their letters?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and Yvonne's tense features. Yvonne nodded with a frown and stepped in from her balcony. "Don't tell me you're planning on staying in again my lady?" Aemilia said, feigning surprise. Yvonne rolled her eyes in response. "You know how I feel about progress day," she replied, her tone dry. "It's a beautiful day out, even if it is progress day. Plus, I'm sure the people would appreciate a voice of reason among all the new 'hextech' chaos." Aemilia commented, sliding her pointer finger alone the arm of Yvonne's love seat. "You have a point there," Yvonne muttered, her face contorted with disgust. "He believes hextech will save us all. You and I know he's a fool." she muttered, to which Aemilia nodded in agreement. Yvonne sighed, giving in. "Fine. I'll go out for progress day, but so help me god, if a council member comes up to me, I'm making you customer support." Yvonne snapped. Aemilia's delighted smile was met with a shake of Yvonne's head. "As you wish, my lady."

~[ᴀʏʀᴀɴ]~
Today was the day, the day of progress. The day all inventors, engineers, architects, and any profession in between has been waiting for. It was the day they could show off all their hard work, and get the praise they deserve. The day where all major inventors, has been waiting for.

All except Ayran Herpich.

Stuck in his room, head buried in his blueprints for who knows how long. Ayran would have lost track how many days it has been without his keen sense of time, and the sun's rotation. He drew geometrical shapes, and wrote down multitude of lines with intelligible writing with the fury of his hands. He wore an complex-multi glass-mechanical clip-on monocle right above his eyes, as he grabbed a piece of platinum slab. There were many more identical platinum slabs all around the room, thrown seemingly in a frenzy, as it was everywhere, with no regarding to the poor furnitures in the room. It was an understatement to say the room wasn't messy. It was as if the room hasn't been cleaned and organized by an human being in months!

Suddenly, an alarm blared.

As if Ayran was used to this, he tsk's and set threw away the slab of platinum behind him. The platinum slab didn't look a single bit out of place within the mess of the room.

Ayran stood and patted off the imaginary dust on his pants and walked towards the entrance of the room. It was crazy how such a germaphobe of a man could work in such messily conditions.

With an annoyed expression, he entered the password to his door, with each finger jabbing down at the screen forcefully. But it seems like the preportrator thought that Ayran's actions were too close, the alarm blared again. In which, immediately after he pressed enter, the door opened.

"...What the absolute f*ck of a business did you have to press the emergency alarm of my resident Sethen." Ayran gaze were annoyed and irritated, while his voice were laced with ice coldness.

Sethen, a red haired fellow who wore a goofy grin stepped inside the Ayran's house as if he owned the place replied unfazed with Ayran's scarily violent attitude. "Dude! It's Progress day, you can't be expecting to be holing yourself in your workshop for the rest of the month right??"

"Actually. You can be expecting me to do that." Ayran pointed out with a deadpan. Even though it was progress day, that doesn't mean it was a day for him to pause his project just to deal with some lousy drunk dude who can't even tell the difference between a circle and an oval.

Sethen sat down on the couch elegantly. This exposed the the fact that despite how unruly Sethens usually acts, he still his noble habits to the heart. This also exposes the fact that it was only the workshop that was a mess, as everywhere else in the house is perfectly, spotlessly clean.

"Not if I can help it. Dude, my friend, you need to get out there! There are people excitingly waiting for you! Y'know how many people are always waiting for you outside, waiting to see what advances you are going to make next. What other change you are going to create in their lives y'know! So please, pretty please...!" Sethen rambled and plead, clearly intent on not leaving, and staying exactly where he is, until Ayran relents and agree to his proposal.

As much as Ayran wanted to be angry, he knew his friend (he says grudgingly) was actually worried about his health and well-being.

Finally relenting, Ayran sighs and agrees to Sethen's begging. "..Fine."

But before Sethen could celebrate on his success, Ayran continued. "..Only for 3 hours. Then i'm leaving."

Sethen sighed dramatically, before shrugging. He should be happy that Ayran even agreed to his offer in the first place. Afterall, usually, Ayaan would immediately turn him down with his cold look, before going straight back to work without sparing him a glance at all!

But now, he agreed.. Even though it was for 3 hours, it is already something worth celebrating about!

Ayran on the other hand was calmer. He hasn't celebrated progress day in years. Normally he would reject such a impractical offer, but this time.

He received an awful premonition that something was about to happen today.

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ᴊᴀsᴍɪɴᴇ [ᴅᴜsᴋ’s sʏᴍᴘʜᴏɴʏ]
there was once an inseparable pair of sisters, who were never seen without the other. Both sisters were beautiful, said to have been blessed by the gods. And then the fateful orphanage fire…..their relationship only worsened from there, the older moving to Piltover, her intelligence and charm allowing her to flourish, whilst the younger, bitter and betrayed, remained in Zaun.

Jasmine sat quietly by the fire, leaning against her friend as they watched the embers dance. Zaun was far from perfect, and probably the most underdeveloped place on earth, but honestly? She’d rather be here in this hellhole than up in heaven with that devil. She slowly drifted off into slumber, surrounded by the warmth of the fire and people she could actually trust.

“Jas…I have an idea….d’you want to play a game with me?” It was the afternoon, and the other kids were currently taking their scheduled nap. Andrea was wide awake, tugging on the tattered sleeve of Jasmine’s nightgown. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Jasmine sat up, yawning “Mmm…okie. What game do you have in mind, Drea?” And with her approval, Andrea leapt up from her position on the bed and dragged Jasmine along, heading to the kitchen. To get there, however, they had to sneak past Nurse Willow. A kind nurse who took care of all the children in the orphanage, an angelic mother figure who was loved by all. Jasmine takes one look at Nurse Willow patrolling the corridor to the staircase, and appears to regret their actions. “Drea…I think we should go back to bed. Mama Willow wouldn’t be very pleased with us, would she?” Andrea laughed, before facing her sister. “Mama Willow? Don’t be silly, Jas. She hates you! I overheard her talking to Overseer, she hates you so much she wants to do everything she can to get rid of you! She’s a bad, bad person, Jas. And bad people should be punished, ok? Let’s push her down the stairs to teach her a lesson.” Jas recoils in shock. “P-Push Mama Willow? But she’s….she’s….” Jasmine was both fearful and confused. Why did Nurse Willow hate her? And even…even if she did hate her, wasn’t pushing her down the stairs a tad dangerous? Andrea, sensing her sister’s hesitation, begins to tear up, sniffling pitifully and she begs Jasmine “Jas-Jas…aren’t I your sister? I know what’s best for you, okay? Trust me.” Jasmine couldn’t bear to see Andrea cry. It’s all my fault…if I don’t do it, she’ll hate me, and I won’t have been a good sister… She thought, before agreeing with Andrea. On Andrea's command, Willow sneaked up behind Nurse Willow, and gave her a hard shove. The nurse tumbled down the stairs, before her skull hit the wall with a sickening crunch. Andrea stood at the top, grinning maniacally, whilst Jasmine looked on, half scared, half happy that she had made Andrea happy. “She deserved it Jas…Now come on, let’s go play shadow puppets with the gas stove fire.” In the kitchen, Andrea gestures for Jasmine to turn on the stove, and the two had a lovely time together acting out one of their old shadow puppet plays. Both faces were alight with glee, and when they had finished, Andrea claps her hands together, before dragging Jasmine out the orphanage door. “Come, Jas. To end off our perfect sister outing, let’s go get some snacks!” Jasmine went along with her sister, forgetting about the fire on the gas stove…….The two turned their backs to the orphanage, skipping happily as the orphanage behind them slowly went up in flames….the children never to wake up again. And then Andrea blamed it all on Jasmine, again. Saying it was all her fault…

Jasmine jolted awake, huffing as she realized it was just a dream. She glared at the fire, dousing it as she helped her friend up and left their house to do…something else.

ᴀɴᴅʀᴇᴀ [ᴅᴀᴡɴ’s ᴅɪssᴏɴᴀɴᴄᴇ]
Andrea had just been painting, when she was approached by a young girl clutching a handful of daisies, wearing a pretty summer dress. “Sister Andrea, Sister Andrea! Today’s Progress Day! Are you coming?” Andrea smiles at the young girl, putting down her paintbrush. “Later, my little buttercup. I must attend to other matters first.” Satisfied with Andrea’s response, the girl skips away, exclaiming “Can’t wait to see you there! I’ll tell the others to come too!” Whilst Andrea was nowhere as clever or creative as Yvonne, she still had a following of her own, composed of many children and promising young talents. Her charm and beauty was just as alluring as her personality, making her an inspiration in others eyes. Andrea picks up her artwork, putting it aside for another day, then heading to wash her paintbrushes and freshen up. She had almost forgotten…Progress Day. Not that she wasn’t planning to go, of course, she had just lost track of time painting and forging bonds. How could she have forgotten such an important event? Progress Day was the perfect day to croon over and praise more young talents, to coerce and sweet talk them into pledging their loyalty to her by showing them her supposed adoration and support. She freshens up, putting on a clean, unstained dress and heading out. She was soon followed by a small group of “her” children, who all clustered around to get her attention, trying to get her approval for the projects they had been walking on. She smiled as she floated from one place to another, listening intently to the energetic explanations of the young ones as they rattled on about their projects. She encountered many alchemists, researchers alike, all proudly showing off their works, complimenting them and praising them for being so creative, promising them that if they continued this way they would succeed…blah blah blah and all that typical prattle that would warm their little hearts and allow Andrea to gain their favor.

Yvonne's face gave away none of her displeasure. The main street was covered in hextech propaganda. "Hextech," was the name of the company founded by an engineer named Jayce, who pursued knowledge through the help of runes and ancient magic. He claimed hextech could make everyone's lives better, but Yvonne was off the belief that if it wasn't broken it did not need fixing. Inviting runes and magic into the lives of simple people would end in disaster. Unfortunately, the people of Piltover were not of the same opinion as her.

As Yvonne continued down the crowded main street, her frustration grew. She wasn't big on people in general, but progress day seemed to invite the stupid out. "Excuse me, are you Yvonne Kameela?" Yvonne whipped around with an eyebrow raised. A young man, a little taller than her with combed hair and eager eyes stood behind her, with a hand outstretched. "Depends on who's asking." her responded, crossing her eyes. "I'm Emory Prewt. Head of the biggest digital newspaper company in Piltover." Yvonne eyed his outstretched hand and ignored it. "The people of piltover heard you were offered a position on the council and declined; would you be willing to speak a bit about that?" Yvonne cast her gaze over to Aemilia, who looked as bewildered as Yvonne felt. "Ah. May I ask how this information got out?" Yvonne asked sharply, crossing her arms across her chest. "Why, your press manager of course!" Yvonne grimaced. "I don't have a press manager." she said, grinding her teeth. Emory looked surprised. "Well that's simply not true ma'am! All of our information on you has been given by your press manager!" Yvonne looked blankly at Emory. "I think I know who I pay..." she muttered. "I am not available for comment right now actually. Or ever." she added the last part under her breath.

The next thing Yvonne knew she had stormed back to her laboratory and offices. "Once I find the rat, they're getting their ass kicked." she muttered angrily. Aemilia sighed. Every single time she tried to get her lady out of the house, Yvonne found a way to go right back.

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