No smart quip to challenge Jayce in some way? Nothing at all?
It was surprising to say the least. Not that Jayce was complaining. But he did mean what he said. About Viktor being stronger than he looked and how he always seemed to surprise Jayce. As appalled he had initially been at witnessing the intense augmentation Viktor had put himself through, he grudgingly had to admit that it was impressive.
He was impressive. And Jayce was bitter to realize that he still admired Viktor’s brilliance even now when they were faced with quite possible the end of the world if the Mist continued to spread.
Jayce ran a hand through his perfectly kept hair and stared up at the dense ceiling of Zaun. It was hard to see where Piltover ended and Zaun began. The chill of the Gray and the creeping presence of the Mist wrapped thickly around his ankles.
Viktor was right though. Jayce’s complex feelings about his ex-friend and colleague aside, Viktor was right. This whole mist business was beginning to be more than just a problem. This was something bigger than Jayce. Bigger than him and Viktor’s petty squabbling.
Which begged the question; what could they do about this? How on Runeterra were they going to fight a worldwide ruination? Jayce had little experience with it and he was very doubtful that even with the years between him and Viktor where they hadn’t spoken, Viktor was not some Shadow Isles expert.
“Truce then?” Jayce asked, tilting his head back to look at Viktor. “Think we’re cut out to be ghost busters? I must admit that I never finished my course in undead theory and the intricacies of demonic possession.”
✓: waking up either adorably confused or painfully scared (only if you're still taking th3se prompts.)
Drabble prompt: ✓: waking up either adorably confused or painfully scared
Wine, magic, power. It flowed freely in the room with bold wantonness. It appalled Jayce and he already thought Piltover parties were pretentious. They didn’t even hold a candle to the overly lavish presentation of wealth and nobility that decorated every building in the Mortorra district. He wondered just why he accepted the invitation in the first place.
Ah yes, because he was in enemy territory as a representative of Clan Giopara on the behalf of Piltover to promote better relations, and if he even thought of doing whatever he wanted he was chided at every turn by his retainers. Oh yes, Jayce, you’re a well known person of considerable aptitude and intelligence. Surely you’d be fine to accompany a delegation to Noxus. If you don’t, we’ll pull funding from you.
Haha, what a joke. Jayce thought bitterly into a glass of fine Urseris Red, a disastrously delicious wine distilled in Shurima. The taste was sweet and reminded him of his favorite cherries imported from Bilgewater. It made for a pleasantly light buzz that just about lifted Jayce’s morose mood.
He had wanted to sulk in some corner about his situation the entire night like he usually did in Piltovan social events, but apparently he was a hot topic among the nobles who attended. He had been crowded, fawned, and fondled more than he had ever been in his entire life.
Like fresh meat thrown to a pack of wolves, Jayce was drowned by the constant chatter and attention of curious Noxians. It was overwhelming and Jayce fought to control his temper lest he be beheaded on the spot for his arrogance. Though that did not stop him from speaking with a sharp mind and sharper tongue. He was sure more than a couple of people he spited tonight were plotting his downfall before he could return home.
It was a miracle that he was able to escape to a quiet and abandoned balcony with a bottle of wine that he was beginning to be very fond of. He leaned forward on his elbows against the cold stone railing, glass hanging loosely from his hand and bottle of wine sitting on the smooth surface beside him. It was easier to see the stars in Noxus than in Piltover that was sure. He counted lights in windows decorating the distance deep spreading out into the city.
He was so immersed in sipping his wine and counting that he failed to notice someone coming up behind him until he heard her voice.
“Bored of the party, dear?”
Jayce nearly startled when he felt a light touch crawling up his arm. She leaned her head against his arm and he hadn’t the energy in him to tell her off.
“To tears,” he responded with a yawn. She plucked his glass from his hand and drained the rest of it.
“Well you’re in the wrong place, darling.” Her voice was like a song and Jayce found himself listening to her intently. He wondered faintly if he was being bewitched. Noxian nobility seemed to flaunt their power without shame. She smiled at him.
“And you know of a better place? One that’ll entertain me?”
She chuckled and set the empty glass on top of the railing. “Bring the wine, dear. Let’s bring you to the Reveler's Ball.”
She took his arm and like he was being pulled by some unknown force, he went.
Jayce often dreamed. As a young boy, growing up, and even now as an aging adult nearing his forties. He had dreamed viciously and vividly while working with the Brackern crystal. Every night and waking moment was filled with visions and dreams of desert and dreamsong. He thought he went mad. Little had he known then that he was somewhat magically inclined in the strangest of ways.
So he did what he usually did even on this night. He dreamed. He fell into it like a fever. It was muddled, this dream. There was laughter, faint song and red. Everything felt unfocused and strange. He was walking in the dark with windows of moonlight illuminating his way down long corridors following the scent of crimson flowers blooming in the night.
When he woke it was still night, but everything was silent spare the quiet breathing of languid bodies lying beside him. The woman from earlier was curled against his side. A few other people were sleeping together with them, all cozily tucked in like children to bed.
Jayce groggily slipped away from them, untangling himself from the precarious situation he had found himself in. Boy, wait till he told Ezreal he might had gotten himself into a weird cult sex scenario while in Noxus. Though they were all clothed, Jayce’s shirt was strangely missing. And so were his shoes. Odd and very concerning.
The ground was cold when he entered the hallway. Marble floors with a deep chill seeded in them. He padded down the hall slowly. His throat was parched and he had a killer headache. He followed through the dimness. The moon hung high in the sky through long windows escorting him through his strange surroundings.
Eventually he came to a door leading into a small courtyard garden. Jayce stepped outside and was greeted by the fluttering of colorful butterflies drinking their fill from the abundance of flowers decorating the small garden. He didn’t recognize any species here, then again Jayce hardly paid any attention to such things. They weren’t pivotal to his work.
Several vibrantly red flowers bloomed in different areas of the garden, but never together. It was such a vivid color and had such an enticing scent that seemed vaguely familiar that he was instantly drawn closer. He paused just short of it when a voice stopped him from touching the bloom.
“It is a Nightbloom,” a quiet but seemingly loud voice spoke. Jayce jumped.
“You are not the first to be drawn to them.” The person that had spoken stood a length away from Jayce, as if he had been there all along. His hair shone pale white under the moonlight. A knowing smile curled on his thin lips.
“But am I the first to be shirtless while admiring them?” Jayce asked dryly.
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