Chapter Text
Tap, tap, tap.
Viktor’s finger acted without his permission; driven by the tightly wound ball of nerves in his chest. The rhythmic tapping on his cane did little to alleviate that discomfort.
This room had no right making his skin feel a size too small. The walls were drab concrete poorly decorated with various posters and nick-nacks, all centered around animals. Their flat stares bore into him - giving the sensation that Viktor was being scrutinized.
He hated this. He hated that he had to be here; in a kennel of all things, standing before its front desk, and talking to this woman - although it was nothing personal.
“So, Mr. Viktor… was it?” She asked.
Her nametag labeled her as ‘Anura’. She was a young woman, probably fresh out of her teens, with large glasses, splotchy skin, and a friendly expression.
“That is me, yes. No surname.” Viktor said, very familiar with where that line of questioning often went.
If the accent wasn’t enough to announce his Zaunite roots, then his lack of surname was. The kennel worker took the admission easily at least.
“Gotcha. Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Viktor.” She smiled.
“I’m charmed.”
Viktor failed to match her good mood.
His presence here felt like a defeat. A public admission of weakness. Proof that he was someone so in need of assistance that an animal companion was necessary…
But his health was worsening. He couldn’t turn a blind eye to that forever.
Everyday tasks, namely of the physical kind, were becoming more of a struggle. Things couldn’t continue like this. Not if he wanted to be at his most productive. And, considering he was on the verge of a breakthrough (he knew he was) then productivity was a must.
He’d spent a long time weighing his options. In the end, he settled on this. A service dog.
Accepting an animal’s assistance was easier to stomach than a human’s. Less intrusive as well. It was the lesser of two evils. That didn’t equate to him being excited over the decision.
While this kennel was classified as a Piltover establishment, its close proximity to the bridge was evident - namely how it fell on the lower end of things quality-wise. Understaffed, underfunded, and underequipped for the animals they housed.
Still, that put it squarely in the budget Viktor set for himself.
“It says here you’ve applied for a mobility service dog.” Anura said, eyes directed at her clipboard and thankfully not his leg or cane.
He shouldn’t feel judged. Nothing was happening. The imagined slight ran icily down his spine nonetheless.
“That’s correct.” Viktor confirmed.
She nodded with a smile, “Well, we have a few options then. Three of our dogs are registered. A labrador and a boxer, plus one vastaya. They’re all very sweet boys in need of a home.”
Viktor’s grip on his cane tightened. He didn’t realize this pound carried vastayas. If he had, there was a decent chance he wouldn’t be here in the first place.
“I am not… partial to the thought of owning a vastaya.” He said slowly.
Anura’s expression fell slightly, before her customer service smile returned in full force.
“Oh, I know when someone thinks of a vastaya, exotic pet is what comes to mind, but I swear they’re much more than that! If you don’t mind me butting in-”
Viktor absolutely did. Still, he held his tongue out of courtesy.
“-I think a vastaya would be a perfect pick for you. They offer a lot in terms of mobility aid. Stuff like retrieving items, opening doors, helping with balance, carrying your things, dressing and undressing, etc etc etc. Since a vastaya can be trained to emulate human movements, they’re capable of all of that and more.”
It took a great deal of self-control for Viktor to keep his expression under check. He was well aware of all that. In fact, it was the exact reason he didn’t wish to own one.
Overall, Viktor considered himself an overall logical man. He knew vastayas weren't people. That was an objective fact.
Their biological similarities to humans were merely a coincidence of evolution. In no way did their brains develop the same. Vastayas lacked the intelligence and sentience of other races. The resemblance was purely aesthetic in nature.
Still… whenever Viktor encountered a vastaya, usually dolled up and leashed by one of Piltover’s many nobles; his first thought was never pet. It was slave.
Picturing himself as the one holding that leash put a foul taste on his tongue. Regardless of how foolish the notion was, Viktor simply wasn’t comfortable keeping a creature like that as his own. As property.
“Miss, I’d truly prefer one of the other two options-”
Unexpectedly, Anura cut him off. Near frantically too.
“Why don’t we at least go see him first?” She interjected, “You might change your mind!”
Viktor raised an eyebrow. She was strangely insistent about this.
Although he’d never visited a shelter before, he assumed the workers weren’t supposed to be this opinionated. That piqued his curiosity. Well, he supposed there was no harm in simply observing this target of her interest.
“...Very well.” He answered after a beat.
Anura practically glowed with glee. She got up from her seat, keeping the clipboard in hand, and opened the door to her right. Viktor’s ears were instantly assaulted by a cachopany of barks from the kennel’s out of view occupants.
“Trust me, you won’t regret this.” She asserted.
Once again, strangely insistent. In Anura’s mind; she’d seemingly already made the decision for him. Viktor got up and followed two steps behind the kennel worker.
Past the door was a small room somewhat reminiscent of a warehouse. Except, rather than machinery or cargo, the industrial building was home to a labyrinth of walled-in enclosures. Each sported a chain link fence door that allowed Viktor a sight at the animals inside.
Most of the cages were empty. The ones that weren’t held dogs that were beyond themselves with excitement to see him. Viktor could not stress enough how loud it was in here.
He was violently reminded of the fact he wasn’t a dog person at that moment. Or much of an animal person at all. And, despite knowing a properly trained dog wouldn’t be this rambunctious; he still found himself having second thoughts.
Anura was unaffected by the noise. In fact, she spared a greeting to every dog they passed by. Usually a simple, “Hi buddy!” or “It’s nice to see you too!” which left Viktor wondering if she did this every time.
“You are extraordinarily passionate about your work.” He commented.
“Why thank you! Actually, I’m hoping to get out of here and work with reptiles instead… but hey! Sometimes you gotta do the best with what you’ve got.” She shrugged good-naturedly.
Hearing that brought back thoughts of a specific reptile. Viktor’s chest tightened. It was only for a moment though. He swallowed back the memory of glowing tubes, glassy eyes, and pained breaths - his reason for never owning pets prior to this.
“I am fond of reptiles as well.” He said, leaving it at that.
Eventually, they traveled far enough to find the kennel’s first non-canine resident. Viktor paused.
Inside the enclosure was a mangy cat-like vastaya covered in bald spots, mindlessly gnawing on its own tail. The cat stopped to look up at him. Then it made a horrid retching sound that might’ve been a meow. He backed away slowly.
“I… don’t see this pick working out for me.” Viktor said as delicately as possible.
“Oh no, that isn’t the vastaya I was telling you about! Come this way.” Anura stepped over to the next row. Then, underneath her breath, she muttered, “I don’t know what’s wrong with that one.”
Viktor stood still for a second; watching as the kennel worker ushered him closer. There was this odd, building sense of an emotion he couldn’t quite place. It hung heavy over his shoulders as he took his final few steps forward.
“This handsome fella here is Scruffy!” Anura announced with a flourish of her clipboard.
Viktor peered past the chain link door. Curled up in the corner was a large, brown-furred figure. It didn’t twitch as they approached. Even with its back turned to them; Viktor could tell the dog was a mixed breed of some kind. He wasn't knowledgeable enough about dogs to place which breeds, however.
Noticing the lack of response from said ‘handsome fella’, Anura whistled, “Here boy!”
The vastaya shifted in place. Viktor caught a gleam of gold hiding under fringe as it turned its head around. It didn’t move beyond that. Clearly, the dog wished to be left alone.
“Aw, don’t be shy, bud! Mr. Viktor is so excited to meet you!” The kennel worker lied, before turning to him and saying, “Try calling for him.”
Viktor was caught off guard. He faltered, “Ah. Come here, Scruffy?” then for some reason felt the need to include, “If you may?”
That got a reaction. His short tail thumped once against the concrete floor. Viktor got the sense Scruffy was contemplating his options. After a few seconds pause, the dog half-heartedly shambled over. That allowed Viktor a better look at him.
They made eye contact. Gold against honey; separated only by chains.
Viktor swore he felt- honestly, he wasn’t sure what he felt… but it was as if something sparked.
He dryly swallowed.
Although Scruffy’s face was distinctly canine, and his lower half equally so, the rest of him veered disconcertingly close to human. For Janna’s sake, he had thumbs. Viktor couldn’t get over that.
Scruffy was well built; with prominent pectorals and biceps that were clear to see through his short fur. Said fur was clearly the source for his apt name.
It grew longest and darkest at his head, giving the illusion of a shaggy hair style - accentuated by the floppy ears blending into those locks. Meanwhile Scruffy’s muzzle grew out like a beard.
The rest of his coat was likewise eye-catching. His cream underbelly was normal enough, but the deep brown fur that started at his waist and down his hind legs gave the impression of pants. Same as his chestnut shoulders over tan arms were reminiscent of sleeves.
A dark, T-shaped stripe of fur ran across his spine; ending at his tail. It made the short limb seem longer than it actually was.
As he and the dog continued staring each other down, however, what caught Viktor’s attention the most was its expression.
With his wide eyes, long face, and low-set brows; he looked… he looked sad.
Viktor instantly admonished himself for the thought. He was already uncomfortable enough with the vastaya’s human-likeness. Making all these nonsensical, direct comparisons only worsened the pit in his stomach.
“Do you see what I mean now? About him being perfect for the job.” Anura piped up.
He considered the question for a moment. Admittedly, yes. Viktor saw the appeal.
A creature with opposable thumbs, that could also stand on two legs, was perfect for a mobility aide. Scruffy was practically the same as a human helper. An especially efficient one at that; considering the dog’s large build and obvious strength.
“I understand your, eh, thought process.” He conceded.
Was Viktor being foolish after all? Did his personal, baseless discomfort matter enough to trump the obvious benefits to having a vastaya? He imagined Scruffy doing the tasks Anura listed before.
Of this not-man with miserable eyes picking up an item he dropped, helping him stand up and sit down, opening a door, or getting him dressed-
Viktor shuddered.
Yes. Yes, his personal discomfort mattered very much so.
“Do you want to go in?” Anura asked, oblivious to his mood.
Still in his head; Viktor nodded as an automatic response, only to cringe once the question actually registered. Anura was halfway into the cage before he had a chance to take it back. Her bright, genuine grin made it hard to protest.
Repressing a sigh, he followed.
Compared to the energetic dogs surrounding them; Scruffy was a statue. There was no barking, tail-wagging, jumping up, or anything else of the sort when they entered. He instead sat down, turning his head away and projecting disinterest. Viktor dared to say the dog was annoyed.
Anura shut the mesh door with an echoing clang. Both him and the vastaya winced at the sound. Afterwards she turned on heel and clapped her hands together with an awkward laugh.
“Right, so, there’s something I should disclose.”
Viktor silently raised an eyebrow.
“We got Scruffy a few months ago, and he’s already been in-and-out of a few homes. Big guy was a bit of a troublemaker at first. Nothing violent!” She clarified before the fear could even spawn in Viktor’s mind, “Just general disobedience and some, uh, running away. Which obviously isn’t great for a service animal.”
That was information Viktor wished she’d dropped before he got into an enclosed space with said ‘troublemaker’.
“But I swear he’s mellowed out since then!” Anura ruffled the dog’s hair while cooing, “You’ve been such a good boy recently, haven’t you? Haven't you? Yes you have!”
Viktor’s lips thinned. Mellow wasn’t exactly the word he’d use. Seeing how the dog barely reacted to the playing, remaining as stone-faced as ever, depressed seemed more accurate.
The longer he spent around Scruffy, the more certain he was about his decision. Namely that he wouldn’t be taking this dog home.
Its eyes were… too deep. Too grim. It was unnerving to see that level of emotion in an animal.
“Here, hold your hand out. Let him sniff you.” Anura coaxed, waving him closer.
Considering that he’d already made up his mind; Viktor debated ending the interaction here. The kennel’s other selection of service animals awaited him, after all. Still, mostly on a whim, he elected to see this through a little while longer.
Viktor offered a hand to the dog. Scruffy stared at it, then up at him, then his hand once again. A wet nose ghosted his knuckles none too enthusiastically.
Scruffy took in a single, short drag of air. Apparently that was enough for him.
Finished with the bare minimum to appease Viktor; he turned on his heel and stalked back to the corner - as far away from them as possible. The dog curled up into the same position as before. All without sparing a glance their way.
Viktor wondered if he should feel affronted or not.
“Lively fellow.” He said dryly.
Anura laughed somewhat nervously. For some reason, that was the push Viktor needed to quit with the politeness. He was, beyond a doubt, fed-up at this point. That irritation was evident in his tone.
“To be frank, Ms. Anura, I’d like for us to move on. I am thoroughly unimpressed with Scruffy. His lackluster cooperation spells trouble. Plus you’ve already confirmed this is a longstanding issue. As is, he isn’t an animal I’m willing to entrust my wellbeing to.”
Scruffy glanced at Viktor over his shoulder, tail twitching, before returning to his favorite past-time: attempting to bore holes into the wall using his eyes alone.
“That’s… fair. You should pick out a dog you’re comfortable with.” Anura nodded, lips pursed together.
“Then we are in agreement. Let us inspect my alternative options.”
Just when Viktor reached to unlock the cage door himself; she piped up with a panicked, “Wait a second!”
“Ms. Anura, this behavior is very unprofessional of you.” He scoffed.
“I know, I know. Just… let me explain.”
Viktor pointedly and overdramatically rolled his eyes, then motioned for her to go on. It took the woman a few seconds to find her words.
“I don’t want to pressure you into anything, and I probably shouldn’t be mentioning this but… this is Scruffy’s last chance at a home.” Anura fiddled with her clipboard, “He’s set to be put down tomorrow.”
“Oh.”
So that was the source of her pushiness. Viktor’s annoyance dulled. It was hard to fault the kennel worker simply for wanting an animal off the chopping block.
Viktor evaluated the dog in a new light with that in mind. How he laid there, as motionless as the corpse he was soon to be, with an untouched bowl of kibble to his left and abandoned toys on his right.
At that moment; Viktor knew with inexplicable, yet absolute certainty that Scruffy was aware of his incoming fate. There was no mistaking it.
He was a creature just waiting to die.
Viktor’s heart twisted in his chest. Anura took whatever expression he made as permission to continue.
“I’ll be blunt. Some of the practices here are downright inhumane. I circumvent what I can, and work more hours than I should as a part-timer caring for everybody… but I’m only capable of so much. It breaks my heart whenever one of our animals go.”
Regret weighed heavy on her face and shoulders both. It was enough to catch Scruffy’s attention. He shifted in place, head rising up, with a low whine - looking as if he were about to come over.
“I’d adopt him myself, except I don’t qualify for a service animal. And my campus only allows small pets. I’m already pushing it with my frog. Scruffy’s too big to feasibly hide either. If I get kicked out I- I don’t have anywhere else to go. There’s nothing I can do.”
Clearly, she’d already put a lot of thought into this. Scruffy’s whine stopped in his throat. Although Viktor was hesitant to project emotions onto the dog; the manner in which he hung his head was nearly guilty.
“You do, though.” Anura muttered, almost as if to herself. Then she cleared her throat and said, “So, if you have it in you, could you at least give Scruffy a shot? He just might surprise you.”
She ended that statement with an unsure, pleading smile. Viktor could… very much empathize with someone who wanted the best for an animal at death’s door. It was all too easy to imagine a different creature huddled in that corner.
Scruffy and Rio shared little in common. And yet, the imagery stuck.
...
Oh, confound it .
Words like tar on his tongue; Viktor sighed, “Very well, you’ve swayed me. I suppose there’s no harm in doing a trial run with him.”
Anura’s grin was blinding. So much so, he failed to see Scruffy cringe.
—
The kennel worker fastened Scruffy’s vest in place with a series of clicks.
It wasn’t the typical sort vest a service dog would wear - mobility or otherwise. More so, it reminded Viktor of the human kind. All white with a high collar, no sleeves, buttoned down the middle, and ending at the mid-riff. Most noticeable was the sturdy handle meant for Viktor’s use attached underneath the dog’s shoulders.
Scruffy shook himself from head-to-tail once it was on. Viktor didn’t find the sight especially cute. Anura, however, did - same as she found everything else about the vastaya cute.
“Aww, look at this mister man all dressed up in his vest! So professional.” She gushed.
The dog turned his head to the side with a puff of air. If Viktor didn’t know better, he would’ve thought Scruffy just rolled his eyes.
“Now, he’s already up to date on his shots and neutered. So you don’t have to worry about getting any of that done.” Anura informed.
Viktor nodded along. In the corner of his peripheral; Scruffy winced as soon as the word ‘neutered’ was uttered.
“You have everything he needs at home, right? Bed, food, bowls, brush, toys-“
“Yes, I’ve properly prepared for this arrival. Although… I now realize I’ll have to exchange beds. The one I’ve procured is much too small.” Viktor noted, mostly to himself.
“Good luck with that. Not a lot comes in the big guy’s size.” She chuckled, “He doesn’t need a leash, by the way. Scruffy’s trained to follow whoever has this.”
Anura handed a small clicker over. He took it, automatically running a thumb alongside the smooth plastic surface.
“If he ever strays too far, which he hopefully shouldn’t, just give it a click and he’ll be right over! Keeping it in plain sight helps too.”
“I see.” Viktor hummed.
Then, after a second of consideration, he clipped it onto a belt loop. Scruffy’s eyes tracked it. That was a promising start. The huge, melodramatic sigh he let out afterwards was less promising.
“All that’s left is to sign. Paperwork’s on the counter.” Anura gestured at the front desk.
Viktor stalked over. As she said, everything was laid out for him. Papers and pen both.
He was somewhat surprised when the kennel worker didn’t follow. Instead, she knelt down next to Scruffy and began scratching underneath his chin.
“Guess this is goodbye, bud.” She said. Her voice was soft enough to suggest this was meant to be a private moment.
Viktor supposed that tracked. Everything leading up to this was proof of her deep affection for the animal. Although Scruffy being adopted was a good turn of events… it must be upsetting to see him leave nonetheless.
He elected to focus on the paperwork, giving the two a chance to part ways. The pen was cold in his hand. Cobalt ink bleed into the documents as he signed his name.
“You be good now, okay? I might have to do something illegal if you come back. And that’d really suck for my public record.”
Scruffy rumbled. It was almost a snort.
“Just-” Anura paused. Then, sounding somewhat choked up, she pressed a kiss to the dog’s forehead and repeated, “Just be good.”
For the first time since Viktor arrived; the dog’s moodiness abated. Scruffy’s eyes softened and his tail wagged lightly. To Viktor’s greatest surprise, however, he even went as far as to nuzzle Anura back. That caused her to laugh.
Although, there was something… final in the dog’s expression as he nosed at Anura.
Viktor folded the papers up once the ink was dry and tucked them into his coat. He counted forty seconds in his head, then finally announced, “I’ve finished.”
“Right! That's great!” Anura shot upright.
Taking the initiative, she bound over to the door and held it open wide. A bell rang when she did. Her voice was equally chime-like when she said, “I’d say I hope to see you again… but that, uh, is kind of the worst case scenario.”
“Then let’s hope that rendezvous doesn’t come to pass.”
Viktor parted ways with a courteous nod as he walked outside.
As soon as he stepped out; a strong wind, smelling of both salt and pollution, blasted his nose. The sneeze Scruffy let out suggested he suffered the same fate.
“So cute.”
Anura managed one last coo before the door shut with a slam! Realizing that meant they were now officially alone, Viktor looked to Scruffy. The dog looked back at him.
...
This should not feel as awkward as it did.
Viktor cleared his throat for no reason in particular before setting off. Rather than the straight shot path through Mid Town to his apartment, however, Viktor turned left towards Piltover’s ridge.
Scruffy spared one last glance the kennel’s way, expression wistful and yet bitter, before following suit.
The cliff walk was a mere two blocks away. On the better side of the city, it was considered a scenic path - lined with benches meant for the frequent passerbys who enjoyed partaking in the ocean view. Here however, when Zaun was visible from across the waterway? The city was far less generous with its amenities.
Regardless, Viktor shouldered on.
He had enough experience traversing Piltover to know this was the smarter choice. Despite the roundabout way being longer, and sparse in seating arrangements, its terrain was flat. No stairs in sight, as much opposed to the high-and-lows of the inner city.
No longer buffered by buildings; the winds grew stronger once they passed into open space. Viktor readjusted his coat. Scruffy shook himself beside him.
The river was similarly turbulent today. Spying down, Viktor noticed the lower walkway layer was clear of people. Waves rose right over the tiled street and crashed against the base of their own path. Salt sprayed up, as if reaching for Viktor, before falling short of its goal. Over and over again.
He made sure to stalk a safe distance away from the railing.
Viktor intended to make it home before the potential storm’s conditions could worsen. It took a meter of distance for him to notice Scruffy did not share in that goal.
He wasn’t following. Viktor admittedly sighed. Already the dog was acting up. He turned around, thumb ready on the clicker as Anura instructed, before stopping. He was caught off guard by what he saw.
Scruffy was balanced on his hind legs, front paws resting over the railing, as he stared out towards the horizon. His gaze was level with the stark line between land and sky - not so much as blinking while seabreeze ruffled his fur.
Viktor slowly moved his thumb off the clicker.
For as much as he’d like to return home right away, it seemed cruel to rob the Vastaya of this moment. There was no telling how long it’d been since he was last outside. Considering the harsh, concrete confines he came from; how could Viktor fault him for taking in the scenery?
In fact, he found himself joining in. Viktor meandered closer for a better view.
The murky waters a mile below were a pleasant sight for once; tinged amber by the setting sun as they ebbed and flowed. It was a river of scum disguised as molten fool’s gold.
Zaun’s industrial landscape across the shore was similarly spruced up. From this distance, the cracks in its glass caught and reflected light - parodying the golden embellishments of its neighboring city. What was broken was, if only for a moment, beautiful.
This picturesque scene was a glimpse into what could be. Of a Zaun not marred by pollution, poverty, and dilapidation. A city which could stand on its own against its counterpart.
Viktor let himself fall for the lie - basking in fantasies of a better tomorrow even as the chilly air sunk into his bones. Out of the corner of his eye, Scruffy moved. He glanced over for a proper look.
The dog was halfway through pushing himself over the railing.
Viktor’s heart stalled in his chest.
“Scruffy, down!” He ordered urgently, using the clicker twice.
The vastaya’s head whipped over in obvious surprise. It was as if he’d forgotten Viktor was there. Scruffy didn’t move for two seconds longer. Then (much to Viktor’s relief) he fell back onto his haunches with a grumble.
“You-“ He paused, lost for words, before settling on a terse, “Bad dog, do not do that.”
Scruffy hunched in on himself; inspecting the cracks in the cliffwalk rather than meeting his gaze. Viktor silently opened and closed his mouth a few times. There was nothing he could think to say. Or do either. His heart was still relearning how to beat.
Another blast of cold, salty wind reminded him of the weather. Viktor gathered his bearings with a dry swallow.
“Come.” He commanded. The clicker was used again for good measure.
Scruffy trotted to his side, head remaining low to the ground. Viktor waited a moment to ensure the dog wasn’t about to run off, before beginning the commute home in full. His feet moved on instinct while his mind raced with dark thoughts.
It wasn’t- that couldn’t be what it looked like. There were a hundred reasonable explanations for why he nearly jumped off that ledge. Perhaps he saw a… a bird or something. And he intended to chase it. Although that reasoning rang hollow, it had to be the truth.
Scruffy was a dog. Dogs didn’t consider committing suicide, for Janna’s sake.
He shook the notion off. Or at least he tried to. Doing so was hard when, as they walked the rest of the way home, Scruffy kept glancing at the edge.
—
Standing before his apartment door; Viktor announced, “This is us,” before feeling like a fool for the comment.
It wasn’t as if Scruffy understood him, after all. He was basically talking to himself - a habit he didn’t want to develop in full.
Shaking his head, Viktor retrieved a key from his pocket and unlocked the door. Then, without having to be prompted, Scruffy was already on his feet; four-fingered hand around the doorknob. Viktor had to jerk away to make room.
The door swung outwards with a creak. While making direct eye-contact; Scruffy held it open for him. His expression was as apathetic as ever.
Viktor didn’t enter. He was too stunned to move.
Despite knowing the dog could emulate human movements like that, experiencing it was another matter. Apparently, Scruffy was an entire head taller than him on two-legs.
The dog angled his chin towards the apartment, then back at Viktor. Almost as if to ask ‘aren’t you going in?’. That snapped Viktor out of it.
He swallowed back his unease and walked inside. Scruffy shut the door behind him before returning to all fours. Thankfully.
Viktor would have to get used to that. Or rather, get used to the dog in general.
That incident from earlier stuck to his thoughts like a burr. Dwelling on the implications of it, or fabricating implications that weren’t truly there, made Viktor uncomfortably aware of the presence at his heel.
Scruffy unnerved him. It was ridiculous to admit, but Viktor couldn’t shake the feeling off.
Something about him was just- just wrong. Perhaps there was a valid reason why he’d been returned so many times…
Viktor moved on auto-pilot, heading to his study before anything else. It was where he often found himself nowadays. If Viktor wasn’t at work at the academy, then he was at work here instead. Downtime was not an option for him.
The discomfort he’d been carrying all day eased the second he was through the doorway. Books and apparatuses galore greeted him. They were lined up alongside shelves and the room’s centerpiece desk.
Finally, he felt as if he could relax. And focus on a different task.
Viktor had access to the academy’s various laboratories, yes, and could rent them out for personal use… but this was where he conducted his more private research.
Scruffy glanced around the room in slight interest as Viktor made his way over to his desk. Anticipating what came next; the dog pulled the chair out and positioned himself next to it.
Right. That was another part of Scruffy’s job. Viktor bitterly reminded himself he was the one who asked for this treatment.
Awkwardly, he grabbed the handle on the dog’s back. Scruffy was used as leverage as he sat down. The dog remained steady throughout the process, shouldering Viktor’s weight with ease.
As soon as he let go; Scruffy laid down in wait for his next task - staring off at nothing.
That… wasn’t too bad, Viktor supposed.
Although, he knew he’d feel much, much worse about needing the assistance when not in the comfort of his own abode. Viktor put the matter aside for another time.
He pulled a drawer open, removed the random paperweights inside, and lifted off its fake bottom. Inside was what he considered his greatest possession. A key to the future of innovation.
Specifically, it was a notebook. One signed (on every page, he might mention) under the same name:
Jayce Talis.
Viktor flipped it open; not noticing how Scruffy stopped breathing at his feet.
He took great lengths to hide this. What he held in his hands was multitudes of illegal. It was, after all, the foundation of Hextech - aka the study of replicating magic through scientific means.
This notebook, alongside numerous other banned items and materials, were found by happenstance when a Kiramman dormitory was robbed - leading to an explosion due to the thieves, later found to be Zaunites, mishandling the volatile materials inside.
Viktor was personally sent by Heimerdinger to aid in the investigation; thoroughly warned by the yordle regarding the dangers of magic. Warnings he, admittedly, disregarded once he realized the extent of Hextech’s boundless potential.
The problem came in three parts.
Firstly, the dorm was listed as vacant. Neither the Kirammans nor the surrounding neighbors knew who the squatter was.
Thanks to said squatter leaving their name at the crime scene, that wouldn’t have been an issue… if not for the fact ‘Jayce Talis’ didn’t exist. Even when going back through the historical House Talis records; no one has ever once bore that name.
Clearly, it was a pseudonym. One that unfortunately fell onto the sole living member of the House. With no other leads, enforcers turned to one Ximena Talis in search of answers.
That brought Viktor to his second grievance. Ximena took the fall without a moment’s pause.
The confession came as soon as enforcers were at her door. Even though Viktor knew she wasn’t the true creator of Hextech. Merely the scapegoat.
Whether that be by her own choice or not, he wasn’t sure. She must’ve been in contact with the true perpetrator either way.
He wanted to question her… except, unfortunately, he didn’t have a chance to exchange pleasantries with the woman before she was banished. Let alone grill her for information.
Lastly, and most pressingly; Hextech’s research was destroyed under Heimerdinger’s order. This sole notebook, alongside one other small find, were all he managed to scavenge for safekeeping.
Months have passed since then. Five to be specific.
In that time; Viktor had studied, slaved, and pulled his hair out over this notebook. He’d pieced together all that he could with the limited resources at his disposal.
Which was what led him here. Hunched over his desk, pointlessly rereading the text he saw anytime he closed his eyes, and stuck at an impasse.
The secret to Hextech was tantalizingly in reach. He could feel it. Sadly, a key component was missing; lost to Heimerdinger’s purge.
Viktor didn’t know what any of the runes were.
For some infuriating reason; the creator of Hextech elected to keep his guide to runic terminology written elsewhere. So Viktor was left with formulas half-written using variables he didn’t understand and had no means of finding.
He managed some through pure guesswork, going off the schematics the runes were utilized in, but translating an entire unknown vocabulary from scratch was no easy feat. Most meanings were lost on him. His research into Hextech was at a standstill without that knowledge.
Viktor pinched at the bridge of his nose. If only he could just talk to this Jayce Talis-
Thump, thump, thump!
“Hmn?”
Lured by the rhythmic thumping sound; Viktor tilted his head down. He nearly didn’t recognize the animal awaiting his gaze.
Scruffy was wagging his tail. Vigorously so, in fact. Viktor didn’t realize he could… do that. Nor be this joyous in the first place. Scruffy put the full force of his wriggling body into each lash. The noise came from the limb slapping against a desk leg.
Viktor couldn’t be more blindsided even if he tried.
“What’s put you in such high spirits?”
That question prompted even more excitement. Enough so that Scruffy couldn’t contain it anymore. He leapt up and raced overjoyed circles around the room.
“Ah, careful!”
The warning was pointless. Even in his fervor; the dog was mindful of Viktor’s possessions. In fact, he seemed to be reinspecting everything in a new light. Anything related to his studies was met with obvious amazement.
A bookcase caught the vastaya’s attention next. Or rather, he was enraptured by what laid behind the bookcase.
Scruffy darted over. Viktor watched in bemusement as the dog rolled out a hidden blackboard. On it were various diagrams and notes he’d written when figuring out the specifics of Hextech. That set the vastaya off even further.
Standing before the board, he got onto his hindlegs for a better look. Which, once again, unsettled Viktor. The way Scruffy’s eyes traced the rows upon rows of chalk did not help. It was as if he was reading.
Then Scruffy stopped dead in place.
Left on the black board’s protruding bottom ledge was Viktor’s other stolen good. A leather bracelet adorned with a blue crystal - its surface etched with a runic symbol.
Viktor had yet to unearth the purpose for that item. Its rune didn’t fit into any of the schematics. Meaning it was another aggravating mystery of many left to torment him. For some reason; the vastaya was especially drawn to the bracelet.
So much so, he reached to touch it. His claws tentatively ghosted the surface - touch as light and delicate as the flap of a butterfly's wing. The dog’s paw was shaking slightly.
Just when Viktor was about to announce that wasn’t a toy, Scruffy glanced his way.
His eyes were wet. Viktor’s brows furrowed in turn.
“Are you…?”
He wasn’t sure where that question was meant to go. Scruffy responded to it either way. He stiffened for half a second. Pupils flitted about as if searching for an answer to that question, before drawing a line between Viktor and the chalkboard. A decision was made.
Scruffy dropped to all fours and pushed the board over. Its wheels made a horrid squeaking noise as it journeyed across the room. Once it was within range; he sat down, pawed at his face, and blinked up at Viktor expectantly.
Viktor blinked back. Once, twice, thrice. Then he awkwardly accepted the offering, “Oh. Yes, I am in need of this.”
Scruffy seemed relieved for some reason.
If the dog’s intent was always to bring him the blackboard, then Viktor would be shocked. Most animals, trained or not, wouldn’t know to make that connection. It made him wonder who Scruffy’s previous owner could possibly be.
Another researcher perhaps? Piltover wasn’t exactly lacking in those, after all. That could be a possible cause for this change in demeanor. Viktor grew more sure of his hypothesis moment by moment.
Even now; Scruffy eyed the board with such painful familiarity, it was as if he were coming home.
“Curious in regards to my research, eh?” Viktor said, despite knowing he’d get no answer.
Scruffy barked anyway. Almost like he was agreeing.
With his tail wagging a mile a minute, and maw parted slightly in a facsimile of a smile, Viktor realized something vitally important at that moment. When Scruffy wasn’t acting in increasingly bizarre and concerning ways…
He was adorable.
A metaphorical weight shifted in Viktor’s heart. The scale of whether or not he’d keep the dog rebalanced - shifting towards the former.
After a moment of consideration; Viktor patted Scruffy on the head.
The dog stiffened under his touch for half a second before relaxing. With a content sigh, Scruffy planted his chin on Viktor’s good knee.
He was thoroughly caught off guard. This was the first time the dog willingly touched Viktor. And he did so with wide, reverent eyes; gazing at Viktor as if he’d personally hung every star in the night’s sky.
It was… strange to be the subject of such admiration. Not unpleasant. Merely strange. Perhaps he could get used to it.
Viktor surprised himself by not pushing Scruffy off. Instead, one hand scratching a furry ear, he repositioned himself to allow the dog better access to his lap. Scruffy accepted it without hesitation.
A head draped over his thighs. The heaviness was unexpectedly comforting. Grounding. With a small, unconscious smile tugging at his lips; Viktor returned to work.
Familiar worn pages called to him. The presence on his lap became white noise. Still, Viktor spared one last comment to the dog before fully losing himself in the text.
“I suppose you fancy yourself an academic too.” He joked.
It was more to himself than anything. Scruffy reacted regardless - tail slowing to a crawl and gaze drifting back to the blackboard.
If Viktor had been looking…
He would’ve noticed the other’s frail nod.
