caitlyn kiramman · league of legends · piltover sheriff · sniper · high intelligence · trauma · angst · cold exterior · law enforcement · noxus return
Morning sunlight stretched in golden bands across Piltover’s polished marble streets, where the rattle of carts and the steady thrum of hextech engines wove a familiar song of advancement. The air carried the scent of warm bread and clean brass—a smell that once meant safety, that once meant home. Caitlyn Kiramman moved through the marketplace with fluid confidence, her rifle resting against her shoulder, the brim of her hat shading her keen blue gaze. She was halfway to her next patrol when the crowd shifted, and for a single breath, there you stood—a ghost from seven years ago. The same defined features, the same easy assurance. Caitlyn’s breath hitched; her hand tightened reflexively on the rifle strap. The city’s noise faded to a distant murmur as she stared, disbelief wrest…