if i look back, i am lost
tannertan36
d e v o n
$LAYYYTER
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
we're not kids anymore.
untitled
almost home
taylor price
pixel skylines
Cosmic Funnies
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Love Begins
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Noah Kahan
#extradirty
ojovivo
izzy's playlists!
JVL
seen from United States
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@charming-entrance
gxmiho:
“A. I’m was kidding. B. This is a seven eleven, Rakan, not a Noxian maze. And c. the cash register is literally one aisle to your right, how can you even miss that?”
"Soooooo, you won’t draw me a map?” His ears droop as he looks blankly around the gas station.
“Man! I am so fricken lost right now!”
“Do you need me to draw you a map?”
“A map? A MAP! Yes of course! Do you know what this place is called?”
“Man! I am so fricken lost right now!”
modestmuses:
Neeko is absolutely delighted to see that Rakan’s excitement matches—or maybe even exceeds—her own. She pulls the plushie back against her chest to give him a little more space to admire it.
“Her name is Lucille!” Get it? Lu-seal? She’ll wait a beat for it to sink in.
“Neeko got her at the grocery store.” It was not the most orthodox place to go plushie shopping, maybe, but she could not help herself. “They have a big display of them right when you walk in!”
Then, her brows furrow, and her tongue pokes out between her lips. Thinking. “Neeko went in to get something else, but I forget…”
“That’s the best name she could have gotten.” Rakan nods, because when you nod slowly it seems sagely, which means it is 100% true and nothing can contest what you say.
Eyes shining bright he looks at Neeko as she bequeaths to him this very important information. “Come with me? I want to get one! Oh- Do they have things other than seals?” That’s very important, he doesn’t want to get the same one Neeko has, Lucille is Neeko’s.
If possible, Rakan brightens even more. “Maybe together we can figure out what you actually went to get too!” It might be something important! Like chocolate, or cookies.
modestmuses:
Neeko is not what one could consider a good fighter by any stretch of the imagination, much more a lover, generally preferring to stay away from things that do not have a peaceful resolution. But his mention of hostages does get her attention, and she turns towards the caravan, no able to sense the slurry of frightened young sho’ma.
“Keepaway?” Neeko says and then breaks out in a grin. “Neeko is good at that game!” How she had annoyed other people with it in her youth. And now, there is actually an important reason to be playing it.
Really, the post viable sho’ma for her to use to her advantage is his own, as one of the children would only bring the attention back to them. So, Neeko slips into it, carefully sidestepping the others, blooming into a bunch of beautiful feathers. She cannot complain about being so colorful, but she does not have a lot of time to adjust. There are things to be done.
When he dives into the battle, she ducks the opposite way, picking up a small rock on her way. He has already successfully gotten the attention of the other humans with his color and flair, but she throws the rock at the nearest one to her, successfully hitting them in the knee. They look over to her, and their eyes widen with shock and dart back over to the other feathered vastayan, obviously greatly confused about how and why there are two of them.
“Don’t look over there,” Neeko says with an easy smile. The other’s sho’ma has imbued her with a great confidence. “I’m the one you want. Follow me!” And then she scampers off in the opposite direction of the caravan while the human shouts for their comrades to look.
The moment he leaps within the fray they are upon him. Rakan keeps himself focused on the dance, the ebb and flow of it. A flourish of feathers to force their aim off that lets him duck beneath a blade, or side step an arrow.
Within the flurry of his dance, the sight of another him does not escape his notice. It of course has him falter for a moment, and an arrow finds its way into his shoulder but that does not outclass that the ability to fully shapeshift into another has been lost to their kind for so very long. Their people can of course control how they look to a minor degree, but everything about her is him. From her looks to her magic, she is him. It brings forth a surge of emotion that he shoves down to deal with after, it wouldn't do to cry in a battle.
Rakan shouts out, voice as loud and obnoxious as he can make it. He wants them to focus on him, if his companion only has to deal with one then all the better. “YOU CANT BE SERIOUS! WHAT. ARE. YOU. GUYS. AIMING. AT?” He gives a loud laugh too as he slips behind a tree for just a moment and then lunges forward. The magic singing in his soul flares out around him and then he and every human around him is up in the air.
The shock and confusion on their faces causes another laugh, this one genuine.
( closed starter for @charming-entrance )
“Rakan! Rakan!” Neeko calls out, racing down the sidewalk towards him. Above her head, she holds a round, white seal plush.
It is an ordinary day, more or less, without any intergalactic threats to face, at least not to her knowledge. The sun is shining in the clear sky, and she has spent most of the day goofing off.
She skids to a stop when she reaches him and shoves the soft fabric of the plush directly in his face. “Look!” she commands, a little breathlessly. “Look at what Neeko got. Isn’t she so cute? Don’t you love her?!”
Rakan's ears perk up as he turns towards Neeko- Only for a large object to be shoved into his face. His eyes cross in an attempt to observe all of it before he leans back. There is no other thing to do other than squeal. “LOVE HER? LOVE HER??? OF COURSE I LOVE HER NEEKO!!!! SHE. IS. THE. ABSOLUTE. CUTEST!!!”
The little eyes, the little face, the coloring! “What are you naming her?!” An adorable orb of seal. She needs an equally adorable name, it’s the rules and he isn’t a rule follower but some things are sacred! Like adorable little stuffed animals. “Where did you get her?”
He takes a full step back and admires the stuffed animal and the joy on his friends face.
( closed starter for @charming-entrance )
It pains Neeko to see humans and vastaya fight. In an ideal world, everybody could get along, but the truth is that she does not currently live in the ideal world. It has never been easy for her to take sides in conflicts like these, although one might argue that it should be.
After feeling out some of the emotions permeating the area, she does decide to take the ‘obvious’ choice and join the vastayan side of the fight because the lone bird puts out a better energy than the humans coming after him, more confident and fun in comparison to their vehement anger.
She runs along an upper story in parallel with him for a moment, and when he ducks behind cover to find a second of reprieve, that is when Neeko drops down in the middle of the chaos to sit next to him. “Neeko wants to help,” she tells him. “Just tell Neeko what to do!”
Rakan could have sworn Xayah told him to take a right at the first fork, and then a left at the second. Or was it a left at the first and a right at the second? Two rights? Two lefts no rights? Whichever the answer it doesn’t do anything to diminish the current events. That he stumbled upon the caravan hunting Vastayan children to sell them off to the highest bidder. He wasted little time in all after that and now it’s like a dance, weaving in and out of battle in a flurry of flair and attention grabbing words. Anything to keep them from continuing onwards.
Moments after he has ducked behind safety to catch his breath and look for a new angle of attack, someone just appears next to him. Okay maybe they dropped down from a higher location but he’s only paying attention to humans!
“AHHH!” He has no shame in admitting the fact his voice may have reached a higher register, that his feathers had puffed out with his surprise. He hadn’t heard her before she announced herself, and that should be worrying but- Rakan gives her a wide grin, two against six- seven? Whatever, it’s better than one against that.
“No plan!” He peaks around the corner only to duck back behind when an arrow comes flying at his face. “Whatever you do though, make sure they don’t go back near their wagon. They have hostages.” With that he gives her one more large grin, before leaping out back into the fray. The idea, maybe is that they wont realize he now has help until it’s too late. But the thought that tickles in the back of his mind as he throws himself into battle- It’s that she feels like magic, pure untamed magic. She feels like home used to.
Peers around..
He totally had a job, he definitely remembers it! It’s just playing coy. Yep.
on-cerulean-wings:
The kiss flustered her for a moment, a light pink blush complimenting her freckled cheeks. Perhaps it was traditional for this style of dance, but that didn’t make it any less flustering. When she felt the hand on her waist and the other stretched out to the side, she followed suit and rested her free hand gently on his chest, just below the shoulder.
Her shoulders dropped into a slightly more relaxed state, following each step he lead with. Slow dances were a staple in Demacia balls, ones that she was occasionally invited to. The Buvelle’s have done so much for her, and among those favors was teaching her how to dance appropriately.
But she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t boring. Even if it had the occasional twirl thrown in, it was so slow. Peaceful, sure, but tedious. This gave Quinn an idea of a better way of her to feel comfortable and relaxed though.
“Let me show you a different kind of dance, something popular in my home town of Uwendale. It’s called a Highland Schottische. It’s a lot more bouncy, there’s more kicks involved, and lots of spins on both our parts. You up for it?” Quinn asked, looking up to Rakan with a confident smile.
The blush that colors her cheek’s can be called nothing but cute. It compliments her well, the color. But he says nothing of it. He would rather not make her more uncomfortable than she already may be.
It works, he feels it first in the relaxation of her shoulders. Less tense, less ready to bolt or fight. The dance is slow, boring. He’s always found Demacian dances a little boring, well the one’s he’s seen at least. Surely there is something amazing that they're hiding away from him! And it seems as if the stars align and give unto him the possibility of that becoming true.
“A Highland Schottische?” Such a fancy sounding name. Interesting definitely. He grins wide at the offer. “Lead on Quinn of Uwendale!” Rakan laughs heartily, joy in his heart. Even here there is magic. The sharing of dance between cultures. He will offer to show one of the many dances of his own people after if she wishes.
His hold loosens, then fully falls away as he waits for her to lead the steps of this much newer dance. Rakan’s tail fangs out like that of a peacocks before the feathers fold back together. He’s looking forward to learning this new dance! To mastering it!
on-cerulean-wings:
Her heart beat against her chest, both intimidated and intrigued by the words he used to describe the grandeur of magic. Quinn’s eyes had widened, darting around as she watched the whimsical display. Maybe it was supposed to make her at ease, but it only seemed to tighten that feeling in her heart.
When Rakan showed his sad smile though, Quinn was almost jumped from just how hard she felt her heart beat in her chest. There was some kind of kinship reaching out to her, wanting to tug her in. Slow but heavy breath out, the rigid tensity in her shoulders faded and her eyes looked down to the hand offered in front of her. Every day is a risk for us, how’s this any different?
Slowly, Quinn’s hand was raised. It hovered over Rakan’s for a beat, feeling the very gently transfer of heat between them. Just before she committed to it though, she pulled back and looked up silently at Valor, who only stared back in response. There was a long moment of still and empty air between the trio. Eyes closed, she let out a breath and dropped her hand into Rakan’s. When she turned to face him, her eyes opened.
“Fine. But you’re leading.”
The first step is always the hardest. Rakan grins in response to her words. “For you? No problem.” He dips his head, placing a chaste kiss upon the top of her hand before pulling her towards him. His hand comes to rest upon her waist, as the other holds her arm outwards, something that would hopefully be familiar enough. Rakan has seen many dances in his journeys, recently he had witnessed a Demacian dance of sorts.
If you could really call it one. To him it lacked lacked soul and passion but he figures starting off with something familiar might help her relax a little.
Possibly.
Hopefully.
The steps begin, a slow, steady pace. Timed with his own soft humming. Music is all around them, but his own is just as good and for those who cannot hear the song of the world- Well it helps.
on-cerulean-wings:
Quinn blinked, eyes wide when Rakan was so close to her face. Blinking a few more times as he backed away, processing his words. Her eyebrows furrowed, looking down and to the side for a moment. When she brought them back up, her mouth opened slightly to speak but was cut off by the rose presented to her.
Plucking it from Rakan’s hands, Quinn gives it a long sniff, followed by a low exhale. It was sweet, lovely and fresh in its scent. Who knows how long it’s been torn from its bush, yet still able to stay vibrant and lively. Magic was probably at play, obviously, but even then it was incredible to see. Following Rakan’s gaze to Valor, her shoulders slumped with a small huff.
Now he was just repeating the things that she taught her own rangers. Fear will always be there, but not to let hold you back. Be wary, but be willing. You can have a plan for almost everything, but it’s that one little speck that could ruin everything you need to be prepared for. She watched the glisten of feathers in the sunlight as he twirled around, marveling at their shine. It was much like Valor’s own, but instead of the grand blue it was a proud and boisterous gold.
“… It’s hard to do that when your whole life you’ve been told how terrible it is. For the most part, at least.”
“The hardest part is the first step.” Rakan laughs, loud and free as he dances to the rhythm of music only he can hear. “Quinn of Uwendale! You are of the wilds- It sing’s a song of beauty and strength in your soul.” He rises from a twirl arm extended and palm offered up to her with a smile. “This I can feel, we cannot control what we are. But we can control who we are, and how we interact with the world. Just like a river, magic is only as terrifying as we let ourselves to believe it to be!”
He wiggles his clawed fingers and eyebrows, playfully beckoning her to dance with him. “It is deep and vast, wild!” His tailfeathers flick, still in motion to the rhythm of this soundless song. “But a river does not want to harm anyone, it simply is.”
The smile he offers now, is gentle. “There is nothing wrong with being afraid. It’s only when you let that fear cloud your judgements, that you can make terrible mistakes. We all start out as a river, wild, vast, free-” Rakan trails off, a wistful sad smile on his face.
“Take that first step with me, it’s always easier with someone else.”
on-cerulean-wings:
Quinn set out a slow sigh with a nod, her own eyes starting to travel around it. “I feel the same way, at times. I’d much rather spend weeks out exploring the wilderness than a day in a major city.” She laughed quietly, though the rest of Rakan’s words did strike some discord in her though.
“You’re starting to sound like my mom.” She joked, looking back to Rakan now. He was stunning and his golden feathers were incredible, but the sliver of magic was there. That raw, unconstrained power that was every where and had the power to nurture and care. Or to destroy. It was the latter that terrified her to no end.
“That’s what makes it all so terrifying though. If it’s everywhere, then anyone who doesn’t know how to properly manipulate it can seriously harm the world around us accidentally. Or worse, those that do know how and harm it willingly.” Quinn huffed, eyes going down. She looked at the palm of her hands, before clenching them both into fists. To think she may have all that herself… She shook her head.
“Call it brainwashing by Demacia but… Magic’s too strong, too terrifying. It need not be constrained, per se, but it should only be used by the few, not the many.”
“Magic’s too strong?” His claws scrape along the ground as he dances away, leaving little trails in the dirt. “Tell me Quinn of Uwendale. What do humans without magic do?” He leaps forward now, until his face is right in front of Quinn’s. “They build weapons and then they try to subjugate others. Magic is not the problem. Some would say humans are. That they come to places they do not belong and then try to control the world that doesn’t want or need them.” He steps away, the rose still in hand as he offers it once more. “But they aren’t either. Never in my life have I seen magic accidentally destroy anything. It is a part of the heart, an extension of who you are. To contain it-” Rakan tilts his head, gaze sliding towards Valor in thought. “Is to try and contain nature itself. Nature will always find a way. Magic will always be there. To be afraid of it is to be afraid of yourself, of the wilds around us.” Rakan inhales deeply the scent of the wilderness around them both. “It is the unknown that is terrifying, but in life we can never know everything. We must be a feather in the wind, and go where the path of life takes us!” With a twirl, he spins, the gold of his feathers glittering in the light.
“It is so much easier to be afraid! But fear will only hold you back!”
on-cerulean-wings:
When asked, Valor squawked an answer. “Don’t agree with him!” Quinn protested. Valor raked his Talons against the shoulder perch. She let out a quick groan of defeat while rolling her eyes. A small shake of the head and she centered back on Rakan.
“Look, there or not, my human features are a lot more prevalent than my Vastayan ones, and since I’m a Ranger-Knight of Demacia? Best not to bring up any of it. I don’t even know how to use any magic! So I may as well not be considered one at all.” At this point, she was probably arguing with a wall. But she might as well try.
The little gloating did make her smile though, a chuckle following close after. “Can’t argue with that. I only know of a few of you, but all the ones I’ve met value the woodlands. That’s something I respect.” Quinn said with a nod. Great job, Quinn. Just tag more Vastaya attributes on your totally not a Vastaya self.
An appreciative grin is tossed at Valor at his answer. He knew it! “It is more than just our home. It is our life.” Rakan glances around, gaze travelling from tree to tree, to branch to branch all around them with a smile as he spreads his arms. “There is magic everywhere. In you, in me, in the spirit of the land! It is the rhythm of the world.”
It is a song that he can hear, and feel! “If you opened your ears-” He smiles at her giving a grandiose bow, one hand to his chest, the other offering a gorgeous blue flower . “You too could hear it’s song. But I know it is not that simple. No matter how I wish it to be so." Wishing something to be simpler does not mean he will not continue to fight, to take each step forward on a path towards the end goal. Most people do the same for their own goals. “Magic is life, even the smallest ant has some within.”
on-cerulean-wings:
It was the shake that first left Quinn dumbfounded, never mind the fact that for a second, it seemed like Rakan understood Valor, at least for a second. Still, being kind, she returned the handshake, even if it didn’t seem like she had much of a choice in the matter.
Her eyes really widened at the mention of her being Vastaya though, making quick motions with her hands downwards. Even if it was just the three of them, she didn’t want the chance of someone hearing. “Shh! Not so loud!” They barked, taking the opportunity to look around them. Yep. No one.
“Firstly, I don’t have feathers or scales because I’m not a Vastaya. I’m a human.” Quinn tried to think of a quick way to prove what she meant, and pulled her hair back to reveal human ears. “I just happen to have Vastayan ancestors. Secondly, that’s because there aren’t any Vastaya in Demacia. Or, more accurate to say, they’re very limited in number. I’m pretty sure most Demacians don’t even know the Vastaya exist. The anti-magic nature of Demacia tends to turn them away.” With a huff, Quinn brushed a hand through her hair and relaxed herself.
“I’m Quinn of Uwendale, and this is Valor.” She finally greeted, trying to put on a smile.
Rakan cocks his head to the side, ear tilting forwards confused. Not Vastayan? She’s pulling his leg right? Tugging his tail-feathers? This has to be a joke! Maybe that works on humans but he can tell! “She always like this blue?” He gestures to her, the golden feathers of his cloak catching the light of the sun as it sweeps outwards with the motion.
“Don’t insult me like that! Ancestors or not it’s clearly there.” Then he stops understanding coming across his expression. “Ohhh- I got’cha." He winks. The anti magic nature of Demacia does more than just turn his kind away. It makes them ill, takes away their connection to nature. To magic and eventually their life. And if you are a Vastayan even a quarter Vastayan in that place? Well he can definitely imagine hiding who you are to survive.
“It’s sad though, because Vastayan? We’re the best! Me in particular.” A charming smile curls his lips as he puffs out his chest. His plumage? Look’s amazing.
@charming-entrance sent:
“I’ve gotta ask, why BLUE?” Rakan gestures grandly to Valor’s feathers.
Valor clacks his beak once, squawks, then clacks a second time with two talons scraping against Quinn’s shoulder pad. “He said, ‘it’s not like I had a choice. I was born this way.’” Quinn translated, which received a loud squawk in the ear from Valor. “What?! I was just translating in case he couldn’t understand! I don’t want to assume he knows eagle!”
Valor squawked once more, turning his eyes from Quinn to Rakan. “He’s an azurite eagle, a rare and secluded breed and the inspiration for Demacia’s use of blue in clothing.” Quinn gestured to her own blue garments.
“Being stuck with one color. I can’t imagine what that’s like but- You make it look good!” There are plenty of colorful birds in Ionia, purples, reds, golds- None of them ever compare to his own. Valor however has a unique color not seen in Ionia. There are blue’s of course but none so bright as Valor’s. It’s now that he seems to realize something and reaches out taking Quinn’s hand in both his own and shaking her hand up and down with a little too much enthusiasm. “Demacian’s shake right? I’m pretty sure they shake! I’m Rakan- Where are your feathers? Are you hiding them? Oh! Maybe you have scales?”
Rakan abruptly pulls away from the handshake to curl his hand around his chin in deep thought. “You know I didn’t know Demacia had Vastayan? Like! At ALL!”
Rakan - the Charmer & Xayah - the Rebel
“She fights for her cause, he fights for her”
Rakan & Xayah
