noxviper:
♚ @crimsondiplomacy // starter call.
cassiopeia finds herself more than a little disoriented. this strange city and the very land it sits upon offer a warmer welcome than anything the noxian empire could ever hope to muster, and she has to wonder where the catch lies. is she dreaming? it would be cruel of her subconscious to inflict upon her the illusion of a safer life in the stinging absence of her family.
a curiously small portrait is held between two clawed fingers. it depicts she and her siblings as they were before the disappearance of their father, remarkably more lifelike than any court painting. cassiopeia contemplates the method of capture for such an image, and has to wonder if someone had always been watching them.
she is unsettled in the daylight, her form unshielded from the stares of passersby. a mere glance tells her all she needs to know; they’ve never learned the principles of strength. these people have never had to fight for anything, never had to struggle against a regime that wants nothing more than to see them in the ground. face growing hot with anger, cassiopeia removes herself from the public thoroughfare. she comes to rest around a corner, left to consider the true nature of her current circumstance as venom roils under her tongue.
@noxviper
The culmination of his efforts had been relatively fruitless, horned men and gawking children alike knew little. He’d been a fool to think these soft fools knew anything of the unknown lands set before them. They knew nothing of strife, and even less of true strength. To think they had anything to offer at all was his own folly, one that burned deep within his gut. Though, where did that leave the strangely armored assassin? Weaponless, in a strange land, one stitched together with the souls of many. People from lower castes, surrounded by soft hands and malleable minds. Though, the sun’s glare set itself heavily upon his now heated shoulders, a movement had been enough to cast a shadow. It was a sight he hadn’t ever yearned to see before. Cherished secretly within his memories, a fair noblewoman-- fierce and protective of her own. With words far deadlier than any blade, she slew all manner of threat with voice alone. Though her new visage wasn’t one previously welcomed, a euphoric rush of familiarity forced him to pursue. Soundlessly rounding the corner a few moments after, his hands slowly drew back the cowl that shrouded some of his features. Locks of brown shifted against the loose fabric, outlined by the folks passing just beyond his silhouette.
“Cassie? Is that really you?” Talon ventured with a weariness to his tongue. This place was strange, and had thus far given little comfort to the man. But the familiarity of family on the other hand? The Blade’s Shadow hadn’t quite decided if this was indeed a trick or a chance reunion.
