'Nothing terrifies me more than people who collect dolls...' ── 「 Selective blog, headcanon heavy, extremely canon-divergent, indie multi-muse rp & character + universe study for League of Legends, by Riot Games.
Inspired by: League of Legends, Legends of Runeterra, Development concepts, League of Legends spin-off titles, Arcane, League Comics, Animations and so much more.
Potentially triggering content such as [Violence, PTSD, War, Torture, Abuse, Substance Abuse, Body Horror, Spiders, Cannibalism, Fear of the Unknown, Child Abuse, Phobias of varying kinds, Misogyny, and more.] All will be tagged.
Exploring themes of [Found Family, Cultural perspective of queerness, Forgiving your abusers, The chosen one, Disability, Trans identity, The hero's journey, Romance, the red strings of fate, Humans are the true monsters, Fueled by regret, Broken heart and broken mind, Victory at any cost, Bleeding gold, A fist full of reality, and so more.]
Ablelism/transphobia is not tolerated.
Rules || Ask-Prompts ||
Currently working on: Getting back into the swing!
Formerly: Ionianelder, Thecompulsivevirtuoso, Fireflywithabear, Heiressofroses/Fiora-marjolaine-laurent, Narcolepticyordle, Duchessleblanc/Empressofdeceit, Captivatingwings, Uncrownedcaptain, Infiltrator-ezreal, Vandal-Gragas, Purest-gemcraft, and more.
LoL Character list
Latest Character background:
A - D
E - J
K - L
M- Q
R - S
T - X
Y - Z
LoL Verse list
Riot Records || The Four Beasts || Spirit Blossom
God Weapon || Immortal Journey || Heavenscale
Crystal Rose || Psy Ops || Odyssey
Star Guardian || Arcane || Battlecast
Modern || Arcade || Café Cuties
Star Gazer || Zombie Slayer || Arcana
AnimaTech || Silver Age || High Noon Gothic
The Ruined King Saga || Crime City Nightmare || Moons of Ionia
Inkshadow Uprising || Event Horizon || Cyberpunk
Eclipse/Coven || PROJECT || Riftquest
♡ || War is Heck || Forsaken Hymm
LoR / Extended universe Character list
Snitch - Gangplank's Pet Razorfin / Headcanons / Roleplay
Locke's body keeps restoring itself due to the curse etched into her skin. Meaning that you could rip off her arms and once the magical flames die down she'd still have both of them- despite you holding the arms in your hands.
Her Mother felt that having a male heir was much better suited when the curse was etched into Locke's being and she stitched the body parts of the deceased children who failed to handle to the curse together with Locke to give her a 'appropriate' appearance. Locke is currently trying to find a way to reverse the process or at least a way to regain some parts of her body that were taken from her.
Due to the curse she engages in many vices to cope with the constant physical pain she's in. Alcohol, Drugs, Smoking- it doesn't matter because her body will always repair itself so there is no danger to her health and even a hangover can be prevented by simply burning it out of her system.
Sadly also because of this: attempts to repair her body from what her mother has done to her is simply impossible at the moment. Surgery or magical repairs will simply be removed after the flames die down. And because of her line of work she cannot neglect her powers for the sake of personal comfort.
Locke's totem is the skull of an ascended warrior she found by chance, lost in the sands near Icathia. Picked clean by void critters and the sands.
She found that the skull retains some sense of magic from the ascension process and has bastardized it with her curse, Noxian Runic Iron and Demacian Petricite to create what is essentially a last resort weapon as it will consume and destroy everything it devours; she's no exception to this.
Locke has NO idea how it exactly works, and has caused a lot of damage to the environment while working on this and has lost multiple limbs trying to make it work. That doesn't stop her from chucking it around when the need is there.
Because Locke has limited control over her appearance she tries to do more so with behavior. Often giving the impression that she's either a butch lesbian or a effeminate gay and leaves it at that as her actual gender identity is as much a mess as her cursed body is.
She actually does engage in sexual acts as another vice, but she's very peculiar about what parts of her can and can't be touched and what she'll do to others. Suffering immensely from both dysphoria and dysmorphia.
Locke has an obsession with lips and can spend hours just making out with someone. It's one of the few parts of her body that she still likes and despite it being useless she spends more time grooming and tending to her lips than any other part of her body.
When Locke is on fire those with magical attunement can hear the screaming of thousands of children as well as Locke herself, despite her not actually screaming. It's an echo from the curse binding ritual and the children sacrificed to make her this body.
While watching the Season 2020 cinematic I realize that what I would really like in League's lore is more details on large battles...
I yearn for short stories about armies clashing. While the rest is nice and all, the whole battle between the Demacian troops versus the Winter's Claw raiders is probably my favorite part because it really feels like a skirmish.
The retreat of soldiers, the use of siege weapons, the raiders breaking through their formations. It's something that barely gets brought up and only really gets any attention in LoR which is pretty much dead at this point.
I want to write more large scale battles with the right champions as battlefield heroes or commanders/captains/generals. About the brutality of the Noxian Legions. Because Arcane had a story to tell but the whole monster side plot wasn't necessary given that the small Legion Ambessa brought should've been enough to wipe the floor with the enforcers who despite hextech had never seen actual battle compared to Ambessa and her soldiers.
I want to write about how Trundle's troll army makes the Avarosans suffer as they get pelted with their own dead. How the Noxians marched through the salted and scorched Ionian countryside as their warships darkened the skies with salvos of canon fire.
Or how the Mage rebellion sacked entire cities and countryside regions while the Demacian Army deals with a dragon attack.
I want to write more war, because Runeterra is a region suffering war of varying kinds. And Demacia and Noxus especially deserve a lot more spotlight for how terrifying the elite trained versus the hordes of millions are. ]]
"Golden Demon... Once again, proving my point when it comes to humans." She let out a dry chuckle, fingers slicking through messy blonde tangles. "You have something impressive looming behind you, masky."
The Virtuoso scoffed, hands neatly folded behind her back as she sways her frame subtly from side to side. Unbothered by the arrival of the exorcist who had her eyes set upon the performer. "And you, are missing something. Aren't you, my dear?"
Eyes sharpening, fingers hovering dangerously close to the strap holding one of several silver stakes down to her coat as a playful smile is their response.
Taking the opportunity to press further the masked woman paced slowly to a broken pillar upon which she casually took a seat, legs neatly folded. Gold plated fingertips tapping against her boots. "Are you here for a sermon, Exorcist? You do not seem the religious type, or perhaps that is my misunderstanding considering the taboo etched into your skin... How clever to hide the threads that keep the puppet together beneath the ink. But you will find that even the purest of flames cannot scorch clean what you have been given. Or should I say: what you have been deprived of."
"Well talking too much isn't a sin, sadly. But you have many hands clinging to your ankles, waiting for you to trip and fall so they can drag you along with them."
"You're like a walking beacon to them. But I can't quite tell what's that holding onto your mask, obscuring your face from even yourself. Pride? Envy? Lust? Greed? No no." She tuts, pulling the stake free as she chucks it into the air; caught it, and then twirls it between nimble fingers to balance the tip on her index finger. Swaying her body in a playful manner like she didn't care about the tension between the two.
"I don't know what it is, but I am willing to bet all the coin in my purse for one thing: You share the face with the woman whose hands are are digging into the cracks."
A offended scoff passes the lips of the mask as the Virtuoso slowly rises and with a deft wave of her hand sends her cloak fluttering; the same motion that also retrieved her pistol from its holster, now pointed at the smug smile on the blonde's face.
"This is why I cannot stand Demacians, too much foreplay and not enough satisfaction by the end..."
"Probably because you keep talking through the part where things get fun, masky." Locke kicks her other foot forward, sending her in a fake stumble forward with a firm boot plant as she snaps her wrist to the side to catch the stake in her hand, clutching it tightly.
"Well then, let's play. I'm itching to see which one of those clinging to you will get to claim you when you die."
"And I'm eager to see if your ink still functions after I carve off some of your skin."
Still dealing with bad health and low energy but HAPPY PRIDE EVERYONE!
In today's TEDtalk I will explain why Demacia is homophobic when looking at their nobility system which would then trickle down to the common class and you don't even need Mages to be an allegory for racism or homophobia to point this out.
And why Noxus would not care; especially since the Trifarix changed the cultural landscape and why it's more likely that IF there was a pride parade between either these two nations it would be in Noxus.
Though Piltover/Zaun would be the more likely location in Runeterra to celebrate Pride however it'd be also heavily commercialized but primarily so by Piltovan companies since it's unlikely that chembarons care given the already extreme diversity down in Zaun.
The tent flap was opened by two heavily armored soldiers; steel-toed boots marched inside the General's tent, kicking an empty liquor bottle that struck another with a melodic 'clink', causing the drunk man in his disheveled uniform to look up from his desk. A bottle, half emptied on the desk and half full, in his hand as he scratched at his unkempt beard. "Who the fuck is disturbing the General huh? Get out of here before I have you-"
"Before you will have me what?" The stern and aged voice of the Grand General retorted sending the General in a frenzy to clear his desk and scramble to attention. "G-GRAND GENERAL, MA'AM! W-WHAT BRINGS YOU TO THIS-"
"SILENCE!"
"I gave you a year to conquer this region and you have failed time and again. Your campaign has been an hemorrhage on the resources AND efficiency of our great Empire."
"Of course I knew, I have always known. But your former records speak for themselves; the only reason I have allowed you to remain in your role... And what do I get in return?" The Grand General extends her arm and within seconds a set of documents bound with red strings is handed to her which she brings closer to her face as she begins listing off what is written down.
"Fraternizing with the enemy, allowing non-noxian civilians into the war camp, rampant desertion and banditry by the soldiers, traitors among the ranks, abuse of stimulants for pleasure rather than efficiency, missing supplies, insubordination and disregard of the chain of command, lack of proper documentation of resource and soldier drain. The list goes on and on AND ON!" Swain barked as she had marched to the desk during her ramble, slamming the documents on the table as she grips the corner of the furniture with her leather clad hand.
"I am unable to turn a blind eye any longer to this failure of a campaign. Save your petty excuses, I have seen everything I needed to know about this failed effort of a conquest... You are hereby sentenced to execution for your myriad of failures, insults and harm done to the Noxian Empire! Guards! Drag him outside and hang him from the gates... Let all who march through see what awaits them if they continue!"
"GRAND GENERAL PLEASE! MA'AM YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! WAIT! PLEASE LET ME EXPLAIN!" His cries fell upon dismissive ears as the two heavily armored soldiers marched into the tent and grabbed the squirming General and dragged him out while the Grand General took seat behind the desk and wiped it clean, save her documents, with one grand sweep.
Within seconds she had placed a map of the Shuriman region on the desk alongside various other documents and reports. Various other soldiers of high rank arrived to the tent one by one as they neatly formed lines and awaited instructions.
Swain was quick, efficient. These soldiers knew business; they were her personal retinue. The extension of her will and command and impervious to manipulation, deceit, bribery or failure. "Round up these soldiers; they will be put into slavery for their crimes against our Empire..." She calmly remarked, grabbing the document in question and handed it to a soldier who saluted before leaving the tent. The next one stepped forward to accept another document. "Hang the top ten on this list, the rest may be disposed of in other public displays; they will not receive any honors.""Restore order to this camp! Search every tent and then tear it down, lash every commanding officer who failed their duty, execute the sick and debauched! Check all supplies from medical to rations, root out the spies as listed by Guile, reinforce the gaps in the foundations, demote every soldier not on any of the lists. Promote the few soldiers on the list with the red ink!"
"I will now oversee this campaign and we will conquer the region by week's end!" The soldiers all saluted and called in respect to the Grand General, hurrying to do their duty while Swain remained by herself. Drawing lines on the map of the region with all the information she had gathered to the sounds of order beating chaos into submission...
- - - - - - -
"No you needn't send any of your people here... your lists have been most helpful." The Grand General was speaking to someone in hushed tone. The officer couldn't help but linger near the entrance to try and listen in on the conversation.
Grand General Swain had come in like a tidal wave, turning this war camp spotless and taking command ensuring victory after victory. And as she had claimed, they were almost finished with the conquest of the region.
But whoever she was speaking to had a voice as silent as a whisper, like the winds blowing through a field of flowers.
"I did not forget our appointment; it's not the reason why I claimed to finish by week's end mind you, the Empire will always come first to me and you're aware of that my Lady of Tuatha Dé. But I should return in time, merely a coincidence."
That was a rather fond way of speaking to someone for the Grand General... Had she ever so much as given anyone a nickname other than: Filth, Rot or Disease? And only when they were an insult to the Noxian Empire.
"Unnecessary, but appreciated nonetheless. They will be thrown into disarray the moment our siege will begin... I will prepare the troops now, one your way out please do as you please with the eavesdropper outside the tent who seems to have forgotten that I see and hear everything that goes on in camp."
It's when the Grand General speaks up that the officer backs off in a panic, looking up at the sound of a caw. Several ravens perched upon the Grand General's tent but not just there- everywhere! Red eyes revealed as the sun began to set. The moment they turn to make a run for it they're already grasped by something, sturdy and cutting. Heavy and yet silent. Mouth opened and black roses blossom from their gullet.
The Grand General steps out of her tent, the area clear as she bellows loudly. "GENERALS TO ME FOR YOUR ORDERS, WE WILL END THIS CAMPAIGN TONIGHT!"
- - - - - - -
They weren't ready for this... The Shuriman intelligence was severely lacking since Swain had taken over command of the campaign. Attacks had always occurred during the day, when the sun was hottest; a severe drain on the heavily armed Noxian troops who weren't used to the climate and landscape. But since Swain's command the attacks had changed, always at night when the desert was coldest and the Shuriman opposition had gotten used to good nights of sleep.
The Noxian forces' heavy armor and padded gear kept them warm in the change of circumstances. It was the General who was originally assigned to this campaign's fault for gross misunderstanding and bad requisition efforts. But Swain had turned this into a neglieable factor.
And so the news of the attacks occurring only during the evenings had not reached their fortifications. They were awakened by a massive glowing red eye that appeared in the darkened sky, glancing down at all of them; bathing the city in an eerie red glow and then- EXPLOSIONS!
Noxian sappers had made their way to the walls, undisturbed, sneaking through the dead of night and lit the fuses. Panic had set in at Swain's demonic magic and they knew not how to respond to such a terrifying magic unseen and unheard of before?!
Their screams were drowned out by following explosions as the Noxian army charged through the gaps in the defenses that were created one after the other. The confused defenders put to spear and sword and lance. The glowing eye's red light causing the blood to glisten upon the sands as the Shuriman soldiers screamed in disorderly panic! Where were their commanding officers, their leaders?!
Dead... with daggers in backs and poisoned drink still dribbling from their lips. A little gift from the Tuatha Dé.
Panic and fear spread across the troops and civilians who woke up to the sounds of their foundations crumbling and the calls of the conquering army.
Swain and her two heavy guards slowly began their approach to the front gates of the city that were opened by the troops that had taken command of the settlement. The Grand General stopped covering her right eye and with that the giant one in the sky ceased to exist; bursting into an explosion of Ravens that began soaring across the city-turned-battlefield. The Grand General covered her mouth and began speaking, her words carried by the winged messengers.
"Take those who surrender and drag them to the entry points for processing! Any civilian who wields anything to attack be it wooden spoon or clay pot will be considered a militia and is considered a combatant, execute them! Civilians are to be rounded up like those who surrender! Do not pillage, do not loot! Lay not a hand upon the defeated and do not desecrate a corpse! This campaign has lasted long enough as it has and I care not to tarnish the honor of the Noxian Empire's Military any further! Sweep every building, check every attic! Capture any remaining officials or high ranked personnel alive!"
"GO FORTH, IN THE NAME OF THE EMPIRE!"
The roaring and howling of the Noxian troops echoed along the Grand General's commands who just stepped through the gates and onto the central road of the city. Observing proper efficiency as befitting of the mightiest military force on all of Runeterra!
Here the frontlines were already far removed and as such people were being rounded up and brought to be taken in as prisoners. Civilians clustered together weeping as injured captives were being treated. Those who had been killed were being grabbed and dragged to the sidelines and stacked or at least piled up to not clutter the fields. The walls were now occupied by Noxian observers ensuring no surprise attacks from the outside.
Scouts and messengers running back and forth. The collapsed wall sections reinforced with additional heavy personnel.
Swain couldn't help but offer the most subtle of smirks as she nodded her head with delight. This is exactly how she envisioned the conquest to be done.
That delight dissipated almost immediately when she realized the amount of paperwork that'd she'd have to do personally because of her involvement in the matter and the severe dishonor brought upon the Legions. With a scoff she begins marching once more, flanked by the guards. She'd set herself up in one of the larger buildings to begin writing up details of the occupation and request to have someone be sent from Noxus to oversee the region.
Slowly the sounds of fighting and screaming died down and the Noxian banner was raised high above the gates. Order had been brought to yet another region of the Shuriman landscape...
"Demons? A mere evolution of old wives tales meant to keep children from misbehaving and peasants from revolting. There is nothing terrifying about ugly misshapen entities that consume base human desires..."
"Only our Lavender Lady is a threat worthy of fear and awe. The Void will consume but it also brings equality and unity. They do not take; they reshape unlike these creatures mortals seem to fear."
"Rejoice, your suffering at the hands of beings so primitive will be over soon."
Death was not like the morning sun beaming through stained glass, warming the hallways of the cathedral and bathing it in colored light; a soft exhale of a good day to come.
BUT LIKE THE SCREAMS OF MASSES CRUSHED UNDERFOOT; THE WHAILS OF THE DEAD AS HUNDREDS OF ACOLYTES WERE SMASHED INTO RED PASTE. THEIR BREATHS RIPPED FROM TORN THROATS AND CRUSHED LUNGS.
"FIGHT! FLEE! IT MAKES NO DIFFERENCE! YOUR SCREAMS OR TERROR, YOUR DEATH RATTLES- ALL YOUR ASPIRA BELONGS TO ME!"
A towering giant; encased in a suit of stained glass, once more stained- by blood and viscera. Swirls and tendrils of aspira finding their way to the giant and her mace.
Knights, Paladins, Acolytes, Conjurers- it didn't matter. The legions of the Aspirant Congregation were weak against the Neverghaast Tyrant. And every breath taken was one absorbed. But there was something... something in this mass that she had set her eyes on.
"YOU CANNOT HIDE YOUR PRIZE FROM ME; ITS WHIRLWIND OF ASPIRA IS WHAT REVEALS IT TO MY GAZE!" The tyrant claims, crushing even the most powerful of protectors. Another relic of the Congregation to destroy and suck dry of aspira. Another attempt at finding some trinket that could stop the walking cathedral; a title given by the Aspirants to the Tyrant. Because of her giant stature and the armor that when unstained resembled a cathedral with marble walls and dark stained-glass windows... It was a mockery to their belief; no one knows who came up with the title but it was fitting despite the mockery she presented herself as.
The calls of 'Flee, Sister!' and 'Protect the sister!' Were quickly silenced by a single swing of the mace and a foot sent crashing down upon a body. There it was- no, not it; she.
"THERE YOU ARE, YOU REEK OF ASPIRA... DRENCHED IN IT. THIS ENTIRE ARMY COULD NOT DROWN OUT THE BREATH OF THE WORLD THAT EMINATES FROM YOUR SMALL STATURE."
Desperation set in for the Aspirants. For all their tried and true tactics they all went berserk and crazy in desperation trying to stop the Tyrant...
How easy it would be to snuff out their existence...
But in cruel mockery she raised the mace high and slammed it into the ground; magic bled from the stained glass of her mace tainting the fields. Cracks formed like glass shattering through pressure and surrounded the woman...
Then it all broke and she, together with the tyrant, fell into nothingness. Like the ground they had been standing on was as fragile as the glass that told so many stories.
"Heed my words, my daughter." The old reverend's voice echoes as she falls. "Do not let the Walking Cathedral capture you... for you may never return to the flock."
And when her eyes open once more she finds herself in a church long forgotten. Where the glass is shattered and tells no story but serves as a tormenting carpet of defeat. The halls howl with the winds and what was once a place for the congregation to meet and pray there is only a throne of broken altars and pews... And the woman upon it directed her eyes to her captive.
Laying upon torn banners of the Aspirant Congregation. Like a foundling left for sanctuary... If only the statues and windows depicted any saints. For there was only cruelty and suffering in these halls now.
"I WOULD HAVE SNAPPED YOUR NECK ON THE FIELDS IF IT WEREN'T FOR YOUR BREATH, LITTLE ASPIRANT... SO ANSWER MY QUESTION IF YOU WISH TO CONTINUE HAVING IT BE YOURS."
"YOU REEK OF ASPIRA, WHAT DO YOU KNOW OF THE WELL?"
Swain is drawn by her lips; those lips that whisper sweet sweet suggestions of revenge to her. Part of the play, part of the agreement; and yet so very valuable. Because the woman did nurse headaches rather often with the fools she employed or worse yet: the fools that her fools employed...
Her attention fully reserved for the woman on her lap, nodding along with the suggestions presented as she pulled the back of the dress a little higher, letting her hand snake further along porcelain skin and then disappear underneath fine cut fabrics.
"Hmmm... you're so smart darling. And I think you're absolutely right! You are, after all, the wounded party here. We're together and yet I have to waste time mopping up a mess and scolding this waste of space."
Reaching into her breast pocket with the gold-tipped nails of her crystalline hand she pulls out a wad of five-hundred dollar bills. These were no longer printed but they remained legal tender and as such were a show of influence, power and of course: wealth.
Flicking the money clip she begins taking out bill after bill. The cowering man's eyes grow wider with each bill taken. Once enough bills had been gathered she held them out for Emilia to take. "Here you go baby girl, compensation for having our time interrupted." Ten-thousand dollars all in five hundred bills.
Then she turned to the waste of money before her. "Five thousand is what you cost me. Five thousand for wasting my little girl's time. See that? There's a ten thousand dollar hole in my wallet; you have a month to pay me back."
"You fail? I will work you to the bone, then sell your organs. You run? I will do far worse to your family while you watch; then sell your organs. Got it?"
She didn't even wait for him to say a word, turning back to the beauty on her lap. Cupping her chin with the golden nails, gently running along her lower lip. "Now be a good girl, daddy raised you well: Say thank you to the idiot for making me give you spending money."
"So, is this how landwalkers court? It's... at least a fun little game."
"Not exactly, my dear. Rather this is to see if you're even permitted to try and court me in the first place."
"Speaking of which: Two bingos? Not enough, I'm afraid you're not good enough for someone as perfect as me."
"Only one? Hah... what a waste of paper. I wish I could say the same of you but you're not charming; and rather than brattish you're simply scum. To think you'd offend a lady like that?"
"HAHAHA! It is once again time to celebrate this fantastic mortal celebration!"
"What was it again? 恭喜发财!"
Rubbing his hands together he departs the heavenly realms, sending himself crashing down to the mortal realm, arms neatly folded behind his back as he smacks his lips a few times. "I can already taste the many treats! Now I must hurry and get some meat wrapped in dough before it is sold out! HAHAHAHA!"
A little rerun for Valentines Day for the funsies!
Please give it a shot! It doesn't have to lead to a ship, they don't even have to know each other or like each other! Just for fun, who can live up to the Diva's high expectations?
Also for clarification:
'work' = Serial Killing/Assassinations
work = Writing/Singing/Making Music/Creating artwork
"Whaaaaat? Noooo- I mean, I will be showing off new tricks! But you've gotta see these too! You've never seen moves like THESE before!" Throwing his arms up high he flexes and bulges his muscles, kissing his right bicep before moving to the left and then popping them back down.
"Draven always needs an audience! And I'm offering you a front row seat, as you deserve: Grand General Birdbrain!"
While Draven could be arrogant for hours on end, the charade ended real quick when she practically threw herself against Swain's desk. "Darius doesn't want to go out drinking with me either, and my colleagues are all booooo-ring! So honestly, you're my last hope. COME ON!"
"We can bond!"
The gesture suprised the woman, eyes widening as the items floated toward the stranger....but then again, was it really that out of the question? They were clearly capable of things beyond mortal limits....to summon the items in such a manner wasn't too out of the question, was it?
A lump formed in her throat as the other took their measure, unsure what information they could glean without touching the damned things. It wasn't as if the crystal was sentient, it was just enchanted...or so how it had been described to her by the Elders. No one truely knew the blade's origins. That was a secret that died with one who made it.
The gesture came out of nowhere, the woman unprepared as her belongings were sent back to her, clumsily catching hold of them. She...didn't know how to react to their proclamation. What was there there to speak of? How could they -?! Her focus flitted between the stranger and her possessions, struggling to make any sense of it all.
At least the next part was easier to understand...at least, the gravity of it.
Her eyebrows furrowed, choosing her words carefully toward the other
'I would expect anyone to strike me down if I strayed from the path. I've seen too many others have their judgements clouded by money and reputation. It is not a future I desire, nor ever will.' One hand re-sheathed the blade on her back, only leaving the pendant in her hands, eyes closing.
'I understand. By the sounds of it...you understand more about the blade than even I do.' The crystal thrummed in her hand, prompting her to re-attach the pendant around her neck. 'If it is truly tied to such a great being... then I wouldn't want to bring disrespect to them...'
As the crystal was secured, she looked to the other, offering a small nod.
The Justiciar furrowed his brows; reading into Sky's tone of voice, how she handles the objects when they returned. And her acknowledgement to the verdict. "Words many have uttered, but it shows a drop of sincerity. Whether you can keep to these words as you speak them now? Time shall reveal."
An arrogant laugh escapes her as she pointed a finger at the weapon. "Nothing can be hidden from Ao Shin's chosen! All reveals itself to me, all will subject to Ao Shin; objects and weapons included!"
Folding their arms together the justiciar began floating as lightning began sparking from their body and to the ground. Disintegrating small chips of earth. "Your word means little, mortal. But I acknowledge you as someone with potential. Treat your tools as you have till now and you will not be led astray. But steel your heart and soul against those who would try and corrupt."
With a judgmental finger, pointed to Sky's chest his eyes narrow. "Especially your heart. Mortals are fickle when infatuated with another, it is a great weakness others may try to exploit. Know that Ao Shin sees all, and that I will be watching you from now on."
