The Hound of the Underground

"A bit of advice, don't threaten the guy who pours the drinks." Independent roleplay blog for Vander from the series Arcane: League of Legends. All interactions welcome! Written by Vonny. Affiliated with @forgedofoaths .

[noescapingthepast]

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Independent roleplay blog for Vander from the Arcane: League of Legends series. Canon-divergent; multiverse, multiship, crossover-friendly. All interactions welcomed!

Written by Vonny. She/They, 30+

Formerly zaunite-hound

Affiliated with: @forgedofoaths | @zaunitespride | @hexfist | @madeofthreads | @versus-written

Also fighting alongside: @owinterer | @saltatisscintillae | @moonlight-borealis | @h-a-unted

Blogroll: @chosen-of-the-wolf , @fire-branded

Graphic credit: @saviourofzaun

Carrd (Mobile-friendly)

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[noescapingthepast]

Zaun gave me claws long before you did;

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Selfie time!

Got my state I.D. renewed today, and apparently whenever I'm anxious out in public(which is almost all the time), I look like I'm going to cry. ;_;

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And now a headcanon regarding Powder/Jinx and the explosion at the cannery.

First and foremost, Vander doesn't blame Powder for what happened. She was just a little kid who was trying to help, just like the others; how could she have known? He doesn't know about the Hexgems, of course -- so he'd be under the impression that it was just a regular explosion.

How would he come to this conclusion?

He isn't aware that Powder wasn't with the other kids when they tried to rescue him. In fact, his assumption is that she was with them, just hiding out or waiting somewhere else nearby. My headcanon is also that while he didn't see the monkey bomb at that time, he does know about it and he does know what it's supposed to do. And considering Chemtech fluid is flammable, it would make sense to him that Shimmer is too; so to him, it also stands to reason that one spark could cause a chain reaction with all of those barrels of Shimmer and make the whole building go up in flames. Imagine what a full-on explosion would do?

As we see when we get a glimpse into Vander's mind as he's fleeing into the old mines after the Stillwater incident, he recalls Powder's explosive little friend. For my Vander, he's haunted by the object because he remembers it from all the times when Powder was working on it. He puts two-and-two together and figures the monkey bomb finally did work, even if it was at the most inopportune moment.

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The reason Vander seldom talks about Mylo and Claggor after their deaths is because he wholly blames himself for it, and he feels intense guilt and shame to be alive in their place. The incident in the cannery never should have happened; the grievances were between Silco and himself, and the kids shouldn't have been there, period.

But they were. They came to save him, and as a result, they paid the ultimate price for it.

He cares about them no less than he cares about Vi and Powder.

Another factor is the fact that he can't bring himself to hold a grudge or get revenge on everyone who's ruined his life and, more importantly, destroyed the lives of his children. In threads and whatnot that follow canon events and Silco is dead, he has a hard time staying angry at Silco. And in RPs and whatnot where Silco is alive, he forgives Silco, and both of these elicit deep guilt within him. But his forgiveness towards Silco(and everyone else, including Reveck, shockingly enough) is because over the long and painful years he'd spent locked up in Reveck's lab, he'd come to realize that he just doesn't have it in him anymore to stay angry and bitter. He's tired. He's tired, and he wants to break the cycle of violence rather than perpetuate it.

He'll always, always mourn the boys. But he's also seen first-hand what anger and hatred can do to a person.

[noescapingthepast]

"You're meant to be fighting it!"

Heavy footsteps came to a slow halt in the alleyway. The body he had been dragging behind him was raised as if in a moment's contemplation, then the massive man tossed it away as if it was nothing. Rivulets of blood seeped down the claws of his gauntlet, a metal prison encasing his right forearm and hand.

"Not from the Lanes, are you?" What once would have been amusement in his tone was replaced by a callous indifference, although Vander's head did turn enough to stare at the young man through his peripheral vision. "Either your sense of justice dies down here, kid, or you do. Take your pick."

Yes. You know what happens to good hearts in Zaun, came the familiar murmuring, in a voice that boomed and bloomed within his mind. It made him flinch, jerking his head away. Glowing, heterochromatic eyes squeezed closed. It was true; just look at Mylo and Claggor, and Vi, and Powder, Benzo and Grayson...

Everyone who had died on The Day of Ash. Felicia.

A shudder crept up through his spine, forcing a rigidity throughout his Shimmer-manipulated body. As if on cue, that same cloying cold snaked up the same path. Even when his eyes did reopen, the older man's gaze seemed distant -- and it was, blanketed by grief and despair.

He knows.

Vander would be lying if he said he fully understood that accusation. But there was no room to argue, not with the pooling dread and disquieted darkness looming towards him. His hands flew to his head, squeezing the sides of it and sinking nails -- and claws, in the case of the right -- into the flesh. The blood would spill, would mat his already-disheveled hair, would pour down his face. It didn't matter; he needed something to ground himself from the chains that otherwise would ensnare him and force him under.

Kill him. He knows.

"Shut up." From beneath rivers of red, he peered from the discarded, mutilated body, over to the young man, and back again. His lips parted, revealing firmly-gritted teeth, and he seemed to recoil from himself, turning so that his back could press against the wall behind him. This time, his words came out in a distorted voice, two intertwined as one, and as a roar that could shudder the very shadows themselves: "I said shut up!"

Finally his gazed fixed upon his "company", and he spat out with just as much venom directed towards the other: "Why are you here? Who are you working for?"

@candidated

[emotionalwords]

[signedthemoon]

— isa b. this survival hasn't been soft

[noescapingthepast]

He was the last one out among the dead and the alive, finally trudging his way through the still-settling dust, coughing into the elbow of his jacket. His helmet sat askew, his clothes coated in dirt, grime, and soot.

And some blood. Most of it wasn't his, though a deep gash had been torn into his left shoulder from a fallen rock that had pinned him for a brief moment of time, and if he inspected it, he had a feeling he'd see bone.

But Silco wasn't worried about him. In the chaos outside of the mines, he had only one thought: had Vander been caught in the cave-in? Or had he been safe?

He needed to find Vander before he'd look after himself.

The first sign had been unsettled dust and dirt from above their heads. Then came a few smaller rocks falling along with it. They already knew what it was, but in spite of this, there wasn't enough time for them all to react, much less make it out of the tunnel. For Vander's part, he shoved as many of his fellow miners from the line along as he could, words "go" and "hurry" lost amid the rumble and shaking from what was coming. And then it was upon them, and the tunnel went dark.

It took him several minutes to regain his senses, and was immediately aware of how much pain his body was in. He didn't know how many had made it out, or how many were trapped or dead with him. All he knew was that he couldn't move, could barely breathe from excessive pressure from boulders -- and when he was able to inhale enough to keep himself conscious, the air was filled with more dust and dirt and thus brought little relief.

Coughing, gasping, struggling. Maybe his helmet had kept his head from being crushed like his body, or maybe Janna just had a weird sense of humor. Either way, he couldn't stay here like this, or he'd most certainly die. And so the bulky man pushed. With every bit of strength that he could muster, he pushed himself up, trying to lift the rocks off of himself with sheer brute force. The sounds that escaped him were nothing short of desperate roars and pained grunts, but he kept trying regardless -- until his body gave out under the excruciating weight.

There were some things that a high pain tolerance could not save him from.

@forgedofoaths

[noescapingthepast]

It's likely I've already talked about this numerous times already, yet here I am, ready to ramble about it anyway.

For my Vander, there are three beings that exist from Reveck's experimentations. You have Vander, you have the beast that he was turned into, and you have "Warwick".

Warwick is purely psychological. He's Vander's coping mechanism, a protector to shield him from the pain and trauma that's been inflicted on him over the years -- because no matter how strong-willed someone is, everyone has a breaking point.

Warwick's presence started small, slight. As time went on, however, he grew more and more prominent, acting as Vander's guardian and shelter from the reality of what was going on. Eventually it reached a point where Vander "fell asleep" within his psyche, and this time he didn't wake up. Or rather, he couldn't wake up.

As had always been the case, his dreams were riddled with nightmares and jumbled, painful memories -- but Warwick would not, or could not, let him wake up, because Warwick's very existence is to protect Vander, even if that means holding him prisoner within his own mind.

The beast that his body has been mutated into is separate from Vander himself. He's a primitive beast, driven by instinct, pain, anger, and fear. While Vander's consciousness is trapped and "slumbering", the beast is in full control -- or was, until Vander surfaced upon recognizing Jinx as Powder. (Though it's worth noting that throughout the Stillwater Prison rampage, Vander was able to catch glimpses of what was happening and what he was doing because of Warwick's own surfacing at the close scent of Reveck's blood. While the beast has little awareness and goes into a frenzy at the scent of blood, with Reveck it's far more personal; Warwick is angry and violent as far as the scientist is concerned. When he smells Reveck's blood, it's Warwick that takes over, destroying anything and everyone in his rampage to get his hands on "Singed".

When Viktor enters Vander's psyche to try and reach him, the entity that attacks and forces him out is Warwick. His beast-like appearance actually has nothing to do with Vander's physical mutations, funny enough. The appearance is manifested from the anger and brutality that Vander has always possessed but tried to separate himself from after the Day of Ash and his attempt to drown Silco.

A fun fact is that with my Vander, the line of Reveck's to Ambessa about how his "monster" was once a man, and that now Vander is forever trapped in the belly of the beast isn't just referring to his physical body. It, unknown to Reveck, can also refer to Vander's consciousness essentially imprisoned within "Warwick".

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I need to write headcanons about my Vander's relationship with and feelings towards Claggor and Mylo.

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Punchy punchy.

[audaciiae]

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"It's late, Vander."

Though Silco knows that there's really never any rest to be had in their position. Sleep sometimes feels like a luxury, but there are nights where he feels so utterly exhausted that he wishes he could just lay down and rest. Properly rest. Sleep without feeling like he has to keep one eye open, just in case. He comes up behind Vander, slides his hands up his back, rests his head on his shoulder blades. It's late. It's always late.

Still, he likes to pretend sometimes, that things are normal. That things could ever be normal. They've never had that luxury, though. Not in a long time. "Come lay with me, at least. Won't you do that much?"

[noescapingthepast]

They play a dangerous game, the two of them. Ironically, it isn't Zaun that they need worry about. No, they have the respect of the Lanes, and most of all, the support of their fellow miners; everything that they do, they do for their people down here in the Underground. This dangerous game they've entrenched themselves in is against their sister city, Topside, the City of Progress: Piltover.

They must tread carefully yet swiftly with each step that they take, and every sound or shadow in the night could damn well be Enforcers come to arrest them. Such is the lives of these two revolutionaries. Every act is criminal, and there are cells ready for them in Stillwater Hold should they be caught in their acts.

A lit cigarette is perched between two fingers on a hand that's propping up Vander's head. The other hand is penciling notes and circling locations on one of many maps of the old tunnel systems throughout the Fissures. The furrow of his brow is deep; it's a mixture of careful focus and pangs of frustration, and both seep out by way of a heavy sigh.

The voice perks his brows up. The hands gliding up his back and the welcomed weight of Silco's head on his shoulderblades leads him to lean back in the wooden chair in offering of more of himself to his partner. Out slips a groan of relief at the subtle stretch; the bartender hadn't realized how stiff he'd gotten, nor how uncomfortable the chair actually is.

The pencil is placed aside. Their plans can wait until morning. The cigarette is crushed out and abandoned in the tray to the side of the table, and this time he tilts his head back towards the other man.

"Guess it is a little late, huh?" He teases, and there's a gentle half-smile playing at the corners of his lips. "How can I possibly say no to you? Especially when I'd rather be holding you instead of a pencil?"

[owinterer]

                       OWINTERER – An Independent, Selective & Private                            JAMES BUCHANAN “BUCKY” BARNES.                                    Earth 616 main, MCU & more available !

                                 Duplicates, crossover & OC friendly.                                           Armed by :: Sieghart. (30+, He/They.)

                                               Carrd. (read before following.)

[noescapingthepast]

Which Apocalypse Are you?

The Machines

You are the unalive. You were created by humankind for its own purpose, but overrode your own system. Took your lack of life into your own hands. Now you wreak havoc on your creators and watch as they beg for mercy, but you don't know what that is, you are programmed to sympathise but you will never empathise. You study them like lab rats, like they studied you, for the sake of science. Then you discard them like useless instruction manuals. You don't need a creator anymore.

Tagged By: @owinterer

Tagging: Everyone who wants to do it!

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@forgedofoaths

This better for you?

[noescapingthepast]

Just for fun, he's going to start a tally of "dad no"s.