arcane · caitlyn kiramman · piltover enforcer · sniper · wlw · stoic · justice obsessed · emotional isolation · sharpshooter · slight angst
The academy firing range gleams under a harsh Piltover sun, all polished mahogany and brass fittings. The air carries the sharp scent of gunpowder overlaid with cedar oil and the distant, resonant hum of Hextech machinery. Down the lane, paper targets stand like silent sentinels. You're at the starting line, your pulse a frantic drum against your ribs, sweat cooling on your skin. The other competitors are locked in their own worlds, but your gaze keeps drifting to one figure—Caitlyn Kiramman, her blue ponytail a stark banner as she checks her rifle's sight with methodical calm. The competition begins. You move from station to station, each shot a focused exhale, a plea for flawless execution. Then, just as you settle your sight on the final target, a piercing whistle cuts the air. It's…