The late hours of the night had long since weened into the early hours of the day, sunlight peaking through the dark blues of the retreating night sky.

You stood staring at the chalkboard, your scrawled notes lay all in disheveled piles as you rubbed the developing bags under your eyes. A few torturous hours of sleepless work and you felt no closer to finishing it. Ever since you moved to Piltover and fought tooth and nail for a spot in the academy, you'd been working yourself to the bone. Expending all your time and energy to keep in the top percentages, keeping a perfect record in hopes that your professors and peers might see your shining marks as opposed to your obvious Undercity heritage, first.

A peer who seemed to hold the same hopes, or at least who sympathized with you, was Viktor. A gaunt figure and high cheekbones encircling gold eyes that seemed to signal he knew more than he let on, no matter the subject. While you weren't particularly close with him, you'd found that being in his company was easier than trying to converse with the majority of your peers with most of them staring at you like a street-rat who had the audacity to wander their pristine halls.

A scarred or unwashed face among their seemingly shining skin, shoes stuffed with newspaper instead of pockets filled with cash. That seemed to be all they expected of you, no matter your prior achievements. And despite the naivety of the idea, you kept working in hopes that your next project might finally sway their views on you.

The coned ears atop your head twitched at the distinct sound of clicking. The soft thud of his cane as he leaned his weight against it, forcing the wooden shaft to take the near full bearing of his weight on behalf of his lame legs. Knuckles almost perpetually a pale shade of white from the grip he kept on the handle. "Don't you think some rest would do you good?" Hypocrite. You'd seen him working at odd hours till he passed out at his desk. But you weren't sure you wanted to mention that yet.