talent, honour, discipline, and pretty pictures!

I am the finest duelist that all of Valoran has to offer! My name is Fiora Laurent, but of course you knew that. Do you offer me a challenge, or simply waste my time?

[a-scarlet-blaze-blog]

Sarah’s eyebrow quirks upwards at Fiora’s unsurprising remarks.

“Oh my, such big words from a woman who hides behind a tiny little sword. I believe you threw a compliment in there as well, so perhaps I will overlook your indelicate greeting.” 

[precisionandgrace-blog]

"Tiny?" The duelist quirked an eyebrow, one hand planted firmly on her hip. "Excuse me, Lady Fortune, for not needing unnecessarily massive weapons to compensate for my lack of skill." The corners of her lips raised ever-so-slightly into what seemed to be the beginnings of a smirk. "But I did not go out of my way to pick a fight with you, so there's no need for all of that sass. Simply accept my greeting graciously, and off with you."

[tasteofsteel-deactivated2013090]

“Can’t say I saw that one coming.”

[noxiannobility-blog]

“Don’t mistake this for a romantic outing, whelp. Unlike your own with that Demacian tooth pick wielder.”

[precisionandgrace-blog]

"Let's keep our perverse little fantasies to ourselves, shall we, Lady Du Couteau?"

[precisionandgrace-blog]

"I despise myself for doing this but my curiosity has got the best of me. Will you.. go to the carnival with me? Your skill with the rapier is grand and therefore has lead me to believe you'd be worthy.. tch, whatever."

Fiora’s gaze seemed to pierce right through the Noxian, and her expression was contorted into a look of utter disbelief. Surely this man was joking! Was he truly so bold as to ask the Lady of House Laurent? “Me, worthy of you? My, you have this backwards, don’t you? You’re hardly worthy enough to even lick the heel of my boot!” she sneered, turning away from him.

An awkward silence befell the two, and during this, the duelist found herself deep in thought. The idea of going with the man intrigued her more than she cared to admit.

After a brief period during which she was almost certain that Talon was likely to get up and leave, she spoke once more. “Nevertheless, I accept this invitation. I expect you to come dressed up in your finest garments, and do not cause a ruckus. If you can do this, I promise a most enjoyable evening. Do you understand?”

[precisionandgrace-blog]

"It's beginning to get awfully crowded in here... Someone, open a window; the stench of failure radiating off of you lot is beginning to make me feel faint!"

[demacianjustice-blog]

[demacianjustice-blog]

On instinct, Garen reached an arm around the Grand Duelist and turned as she bumped into him, sweeping her in a quick embrace that ended with his body between Fiora and the assailant. The assailant who quickly turned out to be an impressively drunk sailor who wreaked of vices. 

Garen’s face heated up into red as he realized what he’d done. The sailor seemed to be babbling but the knight was completely too embarassed to hear him. Swiftly and softly he let go of the Duelist, “Um, ah, Fiora I am so sorry for that. It was not in my place to grab you like that and I know you can take care of yourself if that man had really been attacking I just… I’m sorry!” All formality in his voice broke with a light feathery panic. Fiora was likely to kill him.

[precisionandgrace-blog]

Garen's babbling fell upon deaf ears as Fiora stepped out of his grip and stared down the sailor in front of her. Through slurred words and an overabundance of strange gestures, she gathered that the stranger was well aware of who she was and was attempting to give her something. Normally, she would have declined any sort of 'gift' from this sort of man, on the basis that she determined him to be filthy and unworthy of even being in her presence. Unfortunately for her, a crumpled up piece of paper was shoved into her hand so quickly that she wasn't left with a single moment to protest. 

"Wait; I command it!" the perplexed duelist called after the sailor, but he had already stumbled halfway down the docks and she had no desire to put in the effort of chasing him down. Instead, she turned towards a very flustered Garen, meeting his gaze with furrowed brows and a quizzical expression. "Why in the world are you looking at me like that? Stop apologizing over frivolities, you're beginning to babble. Here, just take this thing away from me!" She shoved the paper into her fellow champion's hands, immediately turning away afterwards. "How ridiculously disrespectful of him. This day is just full of one blunder after another. I'm terribly disappointed."

[precisionandgrace-blog]

“I was under the impression that this was the League of Legends, not the League of Sexually Frustrated Teenagers. Have some class, won’t you all? You’re powerful warriors fighting to represent your city-state, at least pretend to be dutiful and focused on something other than finding a good lay.”

[noxiannobility-blog]

“If that’s true, why aren’t you ash right now?”

[precisionandgrace-blog]

"What kind of question is that? Obviously it is because I've made note to stay a safe distance of ten metres away from you at all times, aside from when my poor darling blade is forced to come in contact with your pasty skin on the fields."

[demacianjustice-blog]

“If anyone needs me, I’m going to be drinking heavily.”

[noxiannobility-blog]

“My prediction from the other night come true. Its too bad nobody dared bet gold against me.”

[precisionandgrace-blog]

"No one wants your money-- anything that your hands touch is immediately tainted and to be quarantined, possibly burned. Also, Sir Crownguard... I highly advise against that. Highly."

[targetmarked-blog]

“Champions of the league, how about minding your own damn business? Regards, Caitlyn.”

[precisionandgrace-blog]

"Sheriff of Piltover, how about you actually do your job and get some work done instead of wasting your time following the very gossip you shame? Regards, Lady Laurent."

[precisionandgrace-blog]

"My Noxian scent? Such a sensitive nose! You really ARE a bitch, aren't you!"

"You talk too much."

[precisionandgrace-blog]

"Once I finish with Kat, I'm coming at you warp speed, bitch!"

"That's nice. Now, out of my way before I step on you like the rest of the dirt beneath my feet."

[precisionandgrace-blog]

"Not even capable of remaining somewhat civil when flustered? Remind me again why I have yet to punch the highlights out of your hair."

"Flustered? Don't flatter yourself. The only emotion you provoke from me is a mild semblance of annoyance. I'm going to be leaving now, your Noxian scent is beginning to make me ill."

[precisionandgrace-blog]

"Such misplaced arrogance Demacian." the Kaiser chuckled deeply, amused by Fiora's consistent mocking of the 'commoners'. "Take the advice of a being that has lived countless life times in all social classes. Never blindly underestimate others simply because of their blood. Countless nobles have died to rebellions after all." His red eyes flared hungrily. "It would be a shame if the knife of a peasant ended up in your back. "

"Misplaced?" Fiora arched a thin eyebrow at the man in front of her, an amused smirk finding its way onto her features. "I do not need advice, especially not from your kind. Your words are worth very little if you're so unwise as to think my arrogance is misplaced. Now scurry along, won't you? Your hideously bright metal is hurting my eyes." She waved up one hand dismissively, turning away. "Shoo shoo, away with you."

[precisionandgrace-blog]

"Fiora, Lux says we should lane together. Please inform her that the only thing we will ever share is our love for being judgmental and noble bitches."

"Why, are you unable to do it yourself? Are you incapable of speaking? The answer is no, because you are wasting my time with this request in the first place. Get out of my sight, and do it yourself, lazy wench."

[precisionandgrace-blog]

"So the gossip around the town is that a certain sexy momma is getting particularly close with a particular whiskey delta, shall we say. What a shocking revelation this is! Ladies and gentleman of Valoran, I am Fiora Laurent, and this is a public service announcement reminding all of you frisky children out there to use protection: because some of you really should not reproduce under any circumstances."

[demacianjustice-blog]

[demacianjustice-blog]

Garen followed in Fiora’s wake as she stalked toward the docks. I couldn’t resist the slightest curl of his lips listening to her tirade. In truth, he greatly enjoyed the sound of her voice, it had the strong flowing quality of a thick Northern Demacian accent, one seen only in Laurent of the Great Houses. He offered only minor comment to her words, mostly affirmatives or an attempt to dampen her anger. 

As they headed down the tiered walkways that led to the docks her words became less and less frequent as she found less and less to immediately vent about. As they sparkling waters of the Conqueror’s Sea unfolded before them, she spoke. Beautiful… He turned his gaze from the waters to the woman beside him, she was, after all. 

“I wouldn’t say this is terrible at all, I’ve always found the waves to be soothing. What do you think?” The question was more of an excuse to turn to her, he attempted to keep his gaze from appreciating her too much, he ended up locking eyes with hers. They were fierce eyes. Indomitable.

[precisionandgrace-blog]

With every wave that crashed upon the shore, it became exceedingly difficult for the duelist to hold onto any remnants of the anger that bubbled within her only minutes prior. Fiora let her eyelids flutter shut and she inhaled deeply, letting the rejuvenating freshness of the ocean air fill her senses.

At the sound of Garen's voice, she opened her eyes once more and just barely turned her head to look him in the eyes. While her stare lacked the contempt it so strongly bared earlier, there was a perpetual fierceness that her gaze held. "I think..." She began, breathing deeply once more and letting the tip of her tongue run along her bottom lip. 

Fiora's lips parted to speak once more, but any words that she had prepared were interrupted by the sudden presence of a hand grabbing down onto her shoulder-- a rough, steady grip that took her by surprise and caused her to spin about on her heels. One hand instinctively reached for the hilt of her rapier, and in that instant, she was ready for battle. "Who dares grab onto Demacia's grand duelist?!" she spat, landing on the balls of her feet and coming face to face with a man entirely unfamiliar to her.

Burly and imposing, the stranger had a goofy grin plastered across his face and a piece of paper tightly clutched in his right hand. He positively reeked of whiskey and cigarettes, and Fiora was taken aback as feelings of repulsion washed over her being entirely. Though her lips began to move once more, she found no words coming out that could properly describe how entirely disgusted she was-- with this stunned silence, she backed up, unintentionally bumping right into her partner.

[demacianjustice-blog]

[demacianjustice-blog]

The man they approached was portly, but his suit was immaculate and extremely sharp, he obviously cared about his appearance. As Fiora gave him a verbal lashing he seemed almost to melt in front of the champions. His jowls positively trembled and his face turned an odd shade of purple, he was either going to faint or explode and Garen felt horribly bad for the little man.

“Fiora, come now, the man is obviously running his business as well as he is able, it would be extremely rude for him to just kick someone out while they are enjoying themselves. Why don’t we just go down to the docks for a little while? We can come back in an hour and I’m sure a table will be open.” Garen cocked an eyebrow at the rotund man, who shook his head violently in the affirmative. 

“Oh yes, yes Lady Laurent! Sir Crownguard offers a positively wonderful idea! The docks are extremely beautiful right now and-and I’m sure you will enjoy yourself! When you come back we will have the best seat in the house reserved, I promise Madam!” The strange color faded from his face, but he seemed to have broken out in a light sweat. Fiora was… always intimidating.

[precisionandgrace-blog]

Fiora held the man's gaze for several more seconds, a raging fire flashing through her narrowed eyes-- but the even tone of her fellow Demacian's voice snapped her out of the momentary rage. "Fine." she replied curtly, annoyance still apparent on her features. With a self-righteous "hmph!" and a sneer, she spun about on her heels to storm out of the establishment with great purpose. The crowds parted like the sea as the champion passed through them, none wanting to dare further agitate the irate duelist by even breathing the same air as she.

The outside air was cool against her face in contrast to the thick heat of the crowded cafe, and perhaps it was better that they took a trip outside. Of course, she wouldn't admit that, and instead bared a prominent scowl as the two marched together towards the docks. "Despicable." she muttered to no one in particular, still refusing to accept the minor inconvenience. "And what is it we will even do at the docks? Sit and stare at the water for the full hour? Perhaps I will not even desire food by the time that is over! How disappointing, that has never happened to me before."

Though she rambled all the way to the docks, her complaints had faded out entirely by the time they stepped foot over the water. "...Beautiful." she admitted in a voice barely above a whisper, arms folded over her chest. "I suppose this isn't terrible."