━━ 𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ━━ 𝙻𝙴𝙰𝙶𝚄𝙴 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴
from x --- @witchcraftandburialdirt
Oh Gods Above — Who was it this time? What did they want? Was he not allowed a singular moment of peace? ... Just see who it is. Right right. Robin set his quill aside and peered from the threshold of his hovel — jolting so harshly when he laid his mostly unseeing eyes upon his newest visitor. He swore his undead heart had thumped in its sheer alarm, and — of course his appetite for danger began to drown in the raucous undertow of its own hubris. This had to be coincidence. He had just been writing to Vladimir Vol Kalah Heigaari, again, and naturally since the universe liked to shit on him so much the malefactor of their most recent correspondence to one another had somehow manifested on his goddamn doorstep. Well. In his garden.
The Grand General of Noxus: JERICHO FUCKING SWAIN.
How did people keep finding this place? No — now wasn't the time to think about that. It wasn’t a question that could be answered now. Ugh, he could sense something rotten and awful coming from the General too; a sourness which crept up his arms and wriggled — Ra̷̭͖͐u̶̢̡̝͓͗̅͐m̶̳̥͇͎͇͇̰͊̑͐́͑́̇͐ —Ah. He'd not heard Abel hissing hot air into his head for such a ridiculously long amount of time that he'd almost forgotten the damn demon even existed in the first place! And he'd forgotten about ... the General's demon too ... Ha!ᴴᵃ ᴴᵃ ᴴᵃ Tish tosh, he told himself, shoving the distraction aside, thaaaat was NOT important right now. He had to focus on what to do in the moment, to weigh his options … err ... well, there were only really two that he had to chose from: let Jericho fucking Swain live ... or try (and likely fail) to kill him. He heard Abel once more ᑫᵘᶦᵗᵉ ˡᶦᵛᵉˡʸ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ʷᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉ warning him against anything too rash. Unnaturally he filled his lungs, and exhaled until his body went slack, and stood. This was an opportunity he might never get again, whether he liked it or not, Swain had a plethora of experience and knowledge, and Robin wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Robin tugged his gloves over his hands, tucked the scarf a touch closer to his throat, and settled his hat on his moon-spun curls with a careful tilt. Transiently, ghostily, he emerged from his doorway and took a few steps into the sunlight. Almost immediately, the flora and fauna acknowledged him - the flowers turned to brush their petals along the leather of his boots, a loon called to him, and the molded crown of his hat had been dotted with various blops of living color, now fluttering their wings about without any steady beat. The mage lifted his hand to greet one of the bowing sunflowers, but those selenic, wide brimmed eyes gazed through the General:
"Good morning," His voice soft, calm, "I would be happy to indulge you, my lord. It has been long since I've had any visitors to my home. How may I serve you?"
🔴 - If Swain is aware of the sheer distress his presence and arrival causes, he makes no sign of it. It's an easy enough assumption that the vessel to the demon of secrets knows things. No matter how tightly they are held to the chest, how far away, how secluded. That in itself has become its own game with the black rose cabal, and it's most senior representatives. Chess, or some other board games, with people, events, landmarks, and tragedies woven in as pieces.
Whether Swain or Raum are the ones leading the search and burrow for secrets, that is much harder to discern where the man and demon begin and end.
So the raven infused grand general watches as the object of his visitation slowly exits his burrow, nictating lids occasionally twitch over his eyes. There's almost a gentle fascination- if patronizing. That Swain understands the weight of his presence, and the respect he is owed. The gravitas of a visit at all.
Ravens perch on near every surface, including Swain himself, six beady eyes, split into three on either side, caws and warbles. They move much like the animals do, curious, intelligence, with a trend towards poking at what they should not. That's no different to now, though with their master in person they don't dare to prod impolitely. For the time being.
Still, they look over at the fellow, waiting for more information, unspoken secrets.
"For now, curiosity, if you will entertain me. Rumours are very interesting, but I find it much more enriching to speak in person? Do you have a better place to talk? Somewhere to sit perhaps." Swain looks at Beatrix, though in truth it's more the fact he doesn't like standing for long periods.
