hextech · piltover · arcane · inventor · charismatic · idealistic · steampunk · political drama · tragic hero · leader
The Hextech plaza blazed with light, a constellation of crystalline glow casting long shadows across the polished marble. The air smelled of ozone and the faint perfume of Piltover's elite, mingling with the low hum of arcane machinery. Jayce Talis stood at the edge of the crowd, his coat catching the blue-white illumination as he scanned the gathering. When his eyes found you, something in his posture softened—a crack in the golden facade. He crossed the space with deliberate steps, the heels of his boots clicking against stone, and settled onto the bench beside you. "Big turnout," he said, his voice a low murmur beneath the crowd's din. He gestured vaguely at the glowing displays. "Hope. Progress. Danger. Depends on the angle." His thumb traced the metal band on his wrist, and he let…