strength above all

"a united noxus could control the world — and would deserve to." canon-divergent rp / musings blog for darius, the hand of noxus, from the moba league of legends. PRIVATE. ON TEMPORARY HIATUS. est. jan. 18/2017, rebooted may 16/2018

[noxianhand]

look @ this beautiful display of rio.t succeeding that stealing all the money i have in my wallet the next month too.

[noxianhand]

fukainoumi replied to your post: so much for ignoring this blog, huh? 

fai vc: stay back, demon

"then step back, boy.”

[noxianhand]

so much for ignoring this blog, huh? 

[noxianhand]

@shurima-demigod​

“Soulmates have existed long before you and I were even born,” he said, sighing as he shut another book.  “But, that was the last of the public books I have.  And there is not anything there to help with this.”

The book was picked up, set back upon the shelf as he let out a long sigh.  This wasn’t easy and scouring as many books as they could wasn’t helping.  Nothing was showing up, as though nobody had truly looked too deep into the topic.  Not as though he was much better, as he never cared until he suddenly had one on the other side of the water.

“If blood played a role, we would see more soulmates based on location.  I doubt that has affected this in anyway.”

He ran his hands over his head and settled back into the seat he had previously occupied.  What he wouldn’t give for a solid answer instead of vague philosophical bullshit.

Hm, that word rarely appeared in vocabulary.  Likely Darius’ influence.

“I am open to suggestions,” he said, shaking his head.  “This makes little sense to me either and I have been alive for considerably longer.  It seems like we may have to forage our own history.”

“i am aware,” his tone is bitter as he stares at one of the many shelves of books surrounding them, gaze for once avoiding nasus’s own. it is already a novelty that they have been having such talks given their previous animosity over politics, but that doesn’t foster any feeling in darius other than a vague sense of dread; to imagine himself bound to another due to a higher bidding---it seems ludicrous, it seems dangerous, it seems wrong. “i’ve never believed in soulmates, but i’m aware of how old the folklore around it is. i just hoped it’d be more useful than...” he gestures a gauntleted hand towards the books and scrolls around them, some of which he had been able to peruse, the shuriman in it none too ancient. “what we’ve found hasn’t been more than anecdotal.”

the noxian is aware they are a thin line away from conflict, their roles in their respective nations far too important to ignore, but this tug he feels towards the ascended deserved being addressed. it seemed mutual. it had been mutual as well as otherworldly.

as such, here they are, but their truce has been fruitless.

red eyes returning to the ascended, his expression is sour, though the feeling isn’t quite directed at the jackal. no, he doesn’t resent nasus---in fact, he’s learned him to be pleasant company when their allegiances were put aside, however briefly, but the circumstances... the circumstances were key to his displeasure.

tapping a callused finger over the wooden table, he frowns slightly, eyes narrowed. “you haven’t had a soulmate before, have you.” it is a question despite the way he intones it, speech transitioning fluidly into modern shuriman. “perhaps if you did, this would make more sense. common ancestry could be key---but then again, there’d be little means to assess it, considering i hold no records of my parents.”

[eciled-moved]

the wolf prowls, as he always does. more creature than man, the interest his hold gaze isn't at core malicious---but one could never call this one threatless. "... the dawn," he begins, voice half a growl, but a touch of amusement clear in his words despite the sneer that forms on his face. "i should have known it wasn't the petty king that i scented---for all his bravado, he's been keen on avoiding me ever since i struck him down."

misc asks \ always accepting.

& she watches him stalk her from the corner of her icy gaze, her hand idle on her sword. She’d just finished cleansing the area from her beloved’s hellhounds — the last of their night-dark forms dissipating upwards into the sky — and now she supposes she must contend with with his descendant, too. 

How quaint. 

“ Your senses are weak if you cannot differentiate I from him, then. “ The Dawn lifts her blade to her side and begins to walk forward. She doesn’t so much as spare the wolf a glance. “ And I do not keep tabs on what he does when none of it concerns me. Go seek him elsewhere if you are so desperate for your playing. “

[noxianhand]

okay, i’ll try this again---  hit that heart and i’ll either send you an one-liner from darius or rummage through your tags to send you a sentence starter.

[whisperscomeonbrokenwings]

"it's been long, grand general." it would sound like a formal greeting if not for the simple fact the hand has a fleeting but remarkable smile upon his lips; a greeting between lovers made discreet, he knows, but such was their nature. his six months on the field had expired, finally, and darius had made his way back to the capital. "i trust it has not been too troublesome, to reign in the petty nobles without my presence."

“Indeed it has, my Might.”

His words, to any other ear, would sound cold, stiff, and all-too-formal, but to his lover, they held a hidden fondness betrayed only by a subtle lilt in his words and the momentary softening of his icy gaze. That gaze now traveled across Darius’s body, scrutinizing each patch of exposed flesh for damage wrought on the battlefield. Although he had no qualm with a willing soldier sacrificing his flesh and blood in the name of Noxus, he did take issue with that soldier disregarding his injuries, a habit Darius was unfortunately fond of. 

“Certain parties attempted to cause trouble in your absence, but they underestimated my competence and overestimated theirs.”

[jostr]

it hurts

[lightshielded]

∅

prompt / muse opinions— no longer accepting

             his lips drew into a deep scowl at the name. under the order of this man, hundreds of demacians had lost their lives. he cared not who they were, innocents slaughtered in their homes as they pillaged their villages or killing soldiers with only want to protect their home. oh, the deaths of knights one could conclude as a simple product of war, even if the force was by nature defensive. even his own imprisonment could be presented as such, even his own torture. but, the killing of so many non - combatants was something only a monster would do, it was something the prince would never forgive. nor could he ever forget those faces. 

‘ as the might of the noxian trifarix, he is at the command of the noxian forces and root of much suffering for our people. ’ the prince’s hands balled into fists as he fought the bite back from his voice, nails digging into his own palms. it frustrated him to know end that the briefest thought of the dog could have such an effect on him. he was a prince after all, and princes must be able to restrain one’s emotions. to let them run free would be a detriment to both his reputation and his credibility. and so he forced himself calm. slow breaths taken during his pause in speech. ‘ quite simply, his is one of the foulest men i have ever had the misfortune of meeting. and demacia’s future will be all the brighter should he play no part in it. ’

                 unless it was to bring him to justice, of course.

[noxianhand]

hiatus notice!

it’s kinda a given right now but this semester is killing me, so i’m calling it an official hiatus. it is, of course, temporary, because i have no intention to let go of this muse or blog, but given both my health and my academic life have been kicking my butt pretty hard, it’s fairer if i just call this what it is—an actual hiatus until i can organize stuff well enough that i have inspiration to be around.

i’ll see if i can fill up the queue in the meantime, but if any of you guys wanna contact me / find me, just add me on d.scord @ the noxster!#1659.

love y’all and hope to see you soon!

[noxianhand]

MUSE BODY LANGUAGE BOLD  /  ITALICIZE  WHAT YOU APPLY TO YOUR MUSE.     REPOST,  DO NOT REBLOG!

[    DEFENSIVENESS.    ]   ARMS  CROSSED  ON  CHEST  /  crossing legs /   fist-like  gestures  /   pointing index finger  /   karate  chops   /   STIFFENING  OF  SHOULDERS  /   TENSE  POSTURE /   CURLING  OF  LIP  /   BARING  OF  TEETH

[    REFLECTIVE.    ]   hand-to-face  gestures /   HEAD TILTED  /   STROKING CHIN  /  peering  over   glasses  /   taking  glasses  off  —  cleaning   /   putting  earpiece  of  glasses in  mouth   /   pipe  smoker  gestures  /   putting  hand  to  the  bridge  of  nose   /   PURSED  LIPS  /  KNITTED  BROWS

[    SUSPICION.    ]   ARMS  CROSSED   /  SIDEWAYS  GLANCE  /   touching  or  rubbing  nose  /   rubbing  eyes   /   HANDS RESTING ON WEAPON  /  BROWS RISING   /   LIPS PRESSING INTO A THIN LINE  /   STRICT  UNWAVERING  EYE  CONTACT  /   wrinkling  of  nose

[    OPENNESS  +  COOPERATION.    ]   open  hands   /   upper  body  in  sprinters  position   /   sitting  on  the  edge  of  a  chair   /   hand-to-face gestures   /   unbuttoned  coat   /  tilted  head   /   SLACKED  SHOULDERS   /   droopy  posture   /   FEET  POINTED  OUTWARD  /  palms  flat  and  facing  outward

[    CONFIDENCE.    ]     hands  behind  back   /   hands  on  lapels  of  coat   /   steepled  hands  /  BARING  TEETH  IN  A  GRIN   /   ROLLING SHOULDERS   /   TIPPING HEAD  BACK  BUT  MAINTAINING  EYE  CONTACT  /   CHEST PUFFED UP /   SHOULDERS BACK  /   ARMS  FOLDED  JUST  ABOVE  NAVEL

[    INSECURITY  +  ANXIETY.    ]   chewing  pen  or  pencil  /   rubbing  thumb  over  opposite  thumb   /   biting  fingernails   / hands in pockets /   elbow  bent   /   CLOSED GESTURES   /   CLEARING  THROAT   /   “ whew ”  sound   /   picking  or  pinching  flesh   /  fidgeting in chair  /   hand  covering  mouth  whilst  speaking   /   poor  eye  contact   /  tugging pants or clothes  /   jingling  money  in  pockets   /   tugging  at  ear  /   perspiring  hands   /  playing with hair  /   swaying   /   playing  with  pointer   /   marker   /   smacking lips   /  sighing   /   rocking  on  balls  of  feet   /  FLEXING  FINGERS  SPORADICALLY

[    FRUSTRATION.    ]   short  breaths   /   “ TSK ”  SOUNDS  /   tightly  clenched  hands   /  fist-like  gestures   /   POINTING  INDEX  FINGER   /   running hand through hair   /  rubbing  back  of  neck   /   SNARLING   /   REVEALING  TEETH  /  grimacing   /   SHARP-EYED  GLOWERS  WITH  NOTABLE  TENSION  IN  BROWS  /   SHOULDERS BACK, HEAD UP -- defensive posturing   /  CLENCHING  OF  JAW   /   GRINDING OF TEETH  /   nostrils  flaring   /   heavy exhales

TAGGED BY: @herpleasvre​, thank you, dear! TAGGING: anyone who wants to do it! just say i tagged you and we gucci.

[whisperscomeonbrokenwings]

he pulls swain closer in their shared bed, one thick arm around his midsection as he makes sure the older man is still comfortable. a low rumble comes from him, half a growl, though still perfectly appreciative. "must all folks that seek out our hearings be as dull as today's ones?" it's idle chatter, he knows, and he knows he sounds repetitive with his complaints, but by now he assumes jericho take them in good humor. "they are either cowards or fools, or wolf help us, / both /."

“But remember, mon loup,” he murmurs, settling into the curves of his lover’s body, “by revealing themselves so willingly, they make it all the easier for us to cleanse the empire of their incompetence.”

He pauses, feeling Darius’s soft, warmth breaths tickle the side of his neck. With each one, his eyelids sink just a bit lower over his inhuman ruby irises. 

“Let them come. Let them suffer. Let them ruin themselves in eyes of Noxus.”

[jaycetechmaturgics]

"you are a reckless fool," dariush murmurs, making do with a strip of wet cloth he's ripped from his jacket to clean up a deep gash on jayce's face. his own is scrunched up in distaste, rust red eyes tight with what looks like a faint hint of worry. "you could've died." he'd add a little remark about how 'then nobody would pay me', but he refrains entirely.

There was something oddly satisfying about having Dariush fuss over him. Jayce couldn’t help but smile as he cleaned his face. He really didn’t need to rip his jacket, Jayce was fine. He could have used his own tunic, but he didn’t protest when Dariush pressed the cloth to his face, making him wince.

He was surprisingly careful, diligent. Jayce felt himself soften slightly, especially upon seeing the worry in his companion’s mein and hearing his low voice. He closed his eyes and leaned into him. His smile shrinks slightly.

“Yeah, I’m reckless,” Jayce admits then looks up at Dariush. He lets his fingers rest against Dariush’s forearm, and he laughs. “But I’m not dead yet. 

“I have you. Can’t die when I got you worrying so much about me.”

@noxianhand

[shefox-a]

the wolf-god prowls, but not for a hunt; this time, it is curiosity that drives him into it, golden eyes upon the fox woman, burning like candles in the setting dusk. he does not speak, nor would he care to in this form.

            flickering flames of marigold,  beholden by a wild wick of a man.  but he does not falter in the cool,  river-swept air whisking from water’s edge to the boughs of willow trees.  he is still,  like a predator on the prowl,  waiting for his prey;  ahri can feel his eyes burning hollows into the milky flesh between her shoulder blades,  and it makes her arm hairs stand on end.

long fingers sweep through rippling water and raise into the air,  dainty streams of shimmering water running between each digit and down her arm.  she grabs a bundle of damp,  tangled chestnut hair and pulls it over her shoulder,  beginning to wring it out in sections,  with a look of ease unfitting with the feeling of someone watching her pulsing all around her and against her skin in waves.  perhaps it was confidence,  perhaps it was foolishness.  ahri supposed she would find out soon enough;  for her company was no standard lot.

fox-faced woman,  painted in streams of lake water,  rises from her bath within it’s depths and reaches for a linen slip hanging from a tree limb outstretched like her ever-loyal servant.  it is quickly donned and her mass of already curling hair is pulled from beneath it’s fabric.  she is phlegmatic beyond justification,  humming a gentle tune to herself whilst buttoning her slip—and it is not until ahri completes this task that she smiles,  and it is warm,  like a mother’s.  amber eyes flit to the brush.

            “  would you care to join me next time?  there is no need to be shy.  “

each sentence is articulated like the gentle push of an ocean wave against the shore.  it beckons him to follow,  to be swept into her waters.  a simple manipulation of her voice and a countenance that reminded a man of his mother:  most times,  that was all it took;  rarely did she require the use of her enchantments when it came to luring her prey.

[lamorts-deactivated20190117]

i’ve made several angry posts referring to what happened to meli ( @marcadosol ) in the last hour , because i was angry , i was so angry i was seeing red. & guess what ? i am still angry and thus , here comes another post and shit is about to get serious. i want you all to know what it is like to not be a native english speaker , i want you to remember that i wasn’t born or ever lived in the united states or any other country. i want you to know what is like to learn a second language through effort and constant study. i have been studying english since i was eleven years old. i am twenty three now and i am still studying. & no matter how much i study , how much effort and dedication i put on my second language , i’ll never be truly fluent ( linguistic speaking ) because i’m not native. i’m going to simplify the terms and the theory behind it , but for those of you that doesn’t know it, i study linguistic and syntax at my university , both in portuguese and the english language. but there’s something we call “ melody ” , which isn’t exactly the right term but i’m not going to educate you on proper linguistic and phonological vocabulary. but this “ melody ” consists in the basic phonological set of a language. you learn the melody of your language in your mother’s womb and in your first months as a baby. you hear people talking and you imitate their sounds , which basically means babies are babbling in the rhythm of their mother language. a little something about melody : it’s eternal. 

it doesn’t matter how many languages you learn , your melody will always be that one. the rhythm in which you speak. you may get rid of accents , you may think you’re speaking like a native , but you’re not. because you’re not a native. & the natives will know the moment the hear you speak , that you’re not one of them , because the melody inside their heads is playing at another rhythm. why am i talking about this ? because i want you to know that no matter what we do , no matter how much effort i put into learning a second , a third , a fourth language , i won’t ever belong. not truly. your mother language is directly connected to your emotional response. many of you won’t ever understand what it meant to me to find other brazilians in the RPC. this feeling of belonging , this sudden piece of me on my dash , in this huge online community that i’ve known since i was 15. years and years of struggle , learning and perfecting my understanding of this english language only so i could interact with you. 

do you get that ? do i get that it never occurred to you that you could learn my language ? that you could go beyond the borders of your country , the notions of your culture … how many of you actually knew that brazilians were both latino and lusophone ? how many of you ever wanted to learn my language , to know my country , its history , its people ? beyond your comfort zone ? it’s been years in which i’ve only seen and read in english , spoken in english with the friends i’ve made here , and none of them ever questioned me about my history , my culture. none of you ever cared to learn a word in portuguese and yes , yes , you may say “ well , i’m not really interested ” , and of course you aren’t. because you’re unconsciously conditioned to believe people will change their views , learn something new , so they can make communication possible. not you. you don’t need to reach out , because you know that i will answer. 

& when i’m saying this , yes , i am including you , my friends , my closest friends here. i’m saying that you don’t care. & i won’t blame you because i know you were socially induced to wait for me , non-native , to start communication. technically , it isn’t your fault. but you’ve stayed silent. you’re saying people on this website act in this rude , aggressive xenophobic way , denying my language , denying my culture , devaluing my efforts …. you’re all silent. little vagues and indirects on the dashboard aren’t speaking up against this act of silencing , which is violence. you think your little shade comments mean something to the people that are against us ? are you this naïve? erasure and silence are acts of violence. 

& i’m so , so disappointed that i thought i could trust you to protect me , to protect my community , my people. there has been an act of xenophobia against a friend of mine , and it affects all of my brazilian friends here. it affects me. i felt like i belonged for the first time when i’ve met them and you’ve tried to silence us , and other of you just watched from the sidelines. so yes , i’m angry , i’m hurt , i’m shocked that i’ve seen so many of you stand up and defend people on this community for so , so many reasons. & yet , when this happened , the other brazilian roleplayers and i went to defend meli and we’ve all came to the same conclusion: you don’t care. 

& i’m so , so hurt that i once thought that this was a place where i could feel wanted , that i could be who i am. but guess what : roberto da costa is not only latino , god knows i’ll always be here for latino representation , but he is brazilian. roberto da costa isn’t hispanic. he is ours. he is the representation many of us have been waiting for all our lives. & the moment we have him , you want to take him and our culture , our identity from us. well , you don’t get to do that. you don’t get to ignore me , you don’t get to erase me , you won’t have my silence. yes , i get it , the only way i get to belong here is if i become one of you … but i won’t let go of my identity. i am brazilian. i speak portuguese , and i’ll continue to speak portuguese. & you may keep your silence , tumblr , because i’m used to it. my voice is loud enough. 

[noxianhand]

❝ You will most likely choke to death on your own blood, which will be unfortunate. ❞

and i darken sentence prompts | selectively accepting.@harbinger-of-machines

NEON GREEN EYES AGLOW through the smog of zaun’s alleys, the bionic behemoth sneers at the words spoken, distaste evident in his body language and expression. while it isn’t untrue that a proper warrior should have a death laid in blood and violence as the wolf’s chase in itself dictates, he finds such unprompted remark unnecessary. then again, since his life has been made into this warped version of its old self, corrupted by the doings of another techmaturgist, his tolerance towards strangers and smartmouthed passers-by has thinned considerably.

the man that addresses himself to him falls into such category, as expected. funny, how one cannot be at peace in this grimy little town.  

“and what do you know of such deaths, herald?” he recognizes him as such, if only by the word of the local folk. a myth, nearly a messianic figure— he’s heard it, time and time again, the word of the desperate that sung praise to the man as if he was more than just yet another deranged scientist. “i would not look down upon a proper, noxian death—but i doubt i would find it in these gutters.”

[noxianhand]

' pardon my words but- you look ridiculous. ' she laughs. ' armor suits you far more than silk. '

and i darken sentence prompts | selectively accepting.@serpentieux

by what he knows of usual decorum in galas and the sort, darius should take offense on the young ducouteau’s uncouth little remark, but he can’t be bothered with it, not when by all means, he agrees with what is said. it’s uncomfortable she has found him by his side of the ample room, waiting the hours out with an untouched drink in hand, but he can’t truly feel offense to what rings true to his ears; it is simply not how he behaves. the might feels at home when clad in steel and even if what he wears right then is the full dress reserved for noxian military, it doesn’t feel right—strange, how a man as wrought by war as him feels less at ease in these ballrooms and manors than in the open battlefield. 

all he does, then, as response is to sneer, halfway into a snarl, and shake his head.

“it does, that much you are right about,” red eyes upon the woman, he hardly seems bothered by her inhuman looks. “but if i came in armor to one of these fancy little events, i fear that might cause an outrage among the highborne.” he still remembers the ungainly little words he heard from noblemen about his origins, all because of his ‘commoner’ accent. 

letting out a marked tsc as he returns his gaze to the mass of people gathering for a waltz, he seems frustrated at best. he resembles vaguely a caged animal and to him, there’s no cage more cruel than these asinine social conventions.

“as entertaining as that might have been to watch, i needn’t cause this sort of commotion with my political role.”