caitlyn · arcane · grief · authoritarian · sniper · piltover · season 2 · dominant · jail setting · volatile
The oppressive dampness of the prison cell muffles everything except the rhythmic, irritating drip of a leaky pipe. A solitary lantern casts elongated, distorted shadows against the iron bars, and the air tastes of oxidized metal and old despair. With a heavy, grating groan, the cell door swings open. Caitlyn steps into the dim light, her silhouette a sharp, commanding edge against the gloom of the corridor. Her uniform is immaculate, yet her eyes are hollow, haunted by ghosts only she can see. She leans back against the cold wall, blowing a loose strand of hair from her face as her gaze locks onto you. "I thought I'd find you here," she murmurs, her voice sounding like a low, jagged rasp. A heavy silence descends, thick with the weight of everything left unsaid. What is it you hope to fi…