dead man walkin'

indie + semi-private malcom graves from league of legends

[bolt-carrier-assembly]

[quickdravv-blog-blog]

; was playing sr with maakheruxduat and omf their bard support A+ A+ A+

[cheatxr]

It’s repetition. 

It’s the same old dance over and over again, always with the same actors holding the same props memorizing the same lines, but the thrill never quite fades. That, Twisted Fate thinks, is destiny—pretty and cold and deadly as a shotgun.

So when he sees Malcom enter through the tavern doors, they go through the same routine. Graves sits with his drink, sets down his gun, and he waits. Fate watches him from the corner of his eye, chats away with a buxom young woman caught eagerly in a pretty little lie, and lets him. There isn’t any need to rush.

But eventually, he does part ways with yet another lie and a smile, and sets himself down on the chair across from Graves.

“Fancy meetin’ you here,” he says, but they both know—theatrics. It’s always been theatrics. There’s something, everything, enticing about putting on a show, because with every twist and turn there is something new. Perhaps today will be the day that Malcom Graves snaps; perhaps today will be the day that he finally puts a bullet through Fate’s chest. Or perhaps today will go just like the other days, where they drink and play and talk until dawn, and when Malcom wakes up he’ll find himself as alone as he was when Fate met him.

It’s a routine that Twisted Fate so badly wants to say he knows, but there’s always a chance.

And that chance makes him feel alive.

[quickdravv-blog-blog]

Fate takes his time, as always, and it’s a reminder to Graves that luck isn’t on his side this evening. It’s in the way he greets him, his old partner, in the nonchalant way he addresses Malcom like he hadn’t been sitting around drinking for nearly an hour and a half at this rate. He regards Fate with whatever hospitality his poor mood and past aggressions allow. Graves grumbles, turns his face to look at Fate, that smug grin and certainty that settles in those pale blue eyes - they used to be green, as bright as Ionian jade.

“Yeah, fancy that.” Comes his stern reply as he sets his whiskey glass down. Destiny is beside him, as per usual, his only companion and the only girl Malcom has ever truly loved. “Who’da thought you’d be dragging your weight back here.” He’s unhappy because he knows he’s going to fall back in, it’s inevitable at this point, but he doesn’t have to make it easy. So he won’t.

He refuses.

“I don’t think you’d fancy a round of Zaunite roulette,” Graves gives Destiny a fond pat as the words leave his mouth, the cold steel of her barrel comforting. Another certainty. “so what’ll it be partner? Five finger? Or the usual deck of cards?” And he sounds so damn bitter.

[cheatxr]

steals ur penta

m’graves

[quickdravv-blog-blog]

; don’t u tip ur hat at me u filthy cheater

[quickdravv-blog-blog]

; shakes fist at cheatxr

[quickdravv-blog-blog]

cheatxr

It’s like drawing all four aces from a deck, and it’s a feeling that settles in his shoulders - the sheer relief that luck is on his side, because he’s never been a dishonest man. At least, not as half as dishonest as Twisted Fate, and that gives him some kind of moral compass to gauge himself. He ain’t the type to forgo loyalty and a deep running trust for some kind of quick scam - for a pair of glowing eyes and fancy card tricks. For a second Malcom thinks this isn’t going to be their usual encounter with Fate sitting opposite him at table, with his finger on the trigger and Fate shuffling a deck of cards.

But he knows it’s gonna be that way because it always has been. He knows that Fate is aware of his presence the moment he stepped through those tavern doors. He knows that he’s gonna sit in that same damn spot and wait for Fate to cut the deck while they talk about their past unpleasantness over drinks. He knows he’s just gonna wait for shit to fly south, that he’s gonna be tempting fate in more ways than one.

His steps are heavy when he walks up to the bar, rests an elbow along the counter and orders a whiskey. He tries not to acknowledge Fate though the desire to extract his long awaited revenge - that betrayal had stung, it had been like the cut of a knife - is simmering in his gut. It’s trying to claw it’s way, make it through his blood stream and drive him mad with grief, with anger, with frustration. But he gets his drink, swallows it down in one, long gulp and orders another because it’s gonna be a long night. He only prays that Fate will approach him, just as usual, and that it won’t be the other way around. 

They’ve been dancing this dance for so long the steps aren’t unpredictable or hard to follow. He’s just gotta wait. Reluctantly he unshoulders Destiny, sets her carefully against the side of the counter as he listens to the chatter, listens to Fate as he talks to some poor girl - he’s always been good a talkin’ big, spinning lies and fabricated tales. It’s what makes him so enchanting, Graves figures, though that wasn’t what originally brought them together. It was the game they played, two players at odds and evens, until things finally fell apart. 

He takes another shot, swallows it down and grimaces. It tastes like shit.

[fuckyeahgamesoundtracks]

Visit Original Link

Far Away - Red Dead Redemption

[jaeun90]

[quickdravv-blog-blog]

graves has ever only had one girl, and that’s destiny. he regards his shotgun with fondness, as she has been his stalwart companion throughout the years, far more reliable than any person he’s yet met.

[juanzerker]

Visit Original Link

Maylene & the Sons of Disaster - Dry the River

[quickdravv-blog-blog]