#!pulsefire

[essence-flux-primed]

"you are never stopping, are you?" the remembrancer sighs, almost too dramatic to sound serious, leaning against his upgraded version of the hammercannon. crossing his arms, he clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth. he had teleported in a few moments before the chronofugitive could steal another precious artifact, but it doesn't seem he is too keen on making much of a move. "it's a rhetoric question. i know you aren't. c'mon, you don't want to drag cait into this, do you?"

◈ — “Nope. Don’t have time to stop. That’s a little time-travel joke for you. Get it?” Ezreal flashes his winning smile, even as PEARL calculates how low his fuel reserves are gonna be when he does another jump. Not great, but on the bright side, he’s not going to completely crash if he has to blink out of here in an instant. “‘Cause if you stop me here I can just rewind and come back later? Infinite time? It’s pretty high level humour, I admit.” 

     Still, he’d really like that artefact. He’d really like another power core, too, and that’s going to get a lot harder if Jayce is on his tail. “Look. You don’t want to drag Cait into this, I don’t want to drag Cait into this ... Why don’t we just settle this between us, huh? You let me have the artefact, maybe a power core while you’re at it, and I wont’ make a huge paradox by shifting out of here and sending a massive energy ripple through the area, yeah? Seriously, Jayce. We’re like, old buddies at this point. How long have we been doing this?”

     His voice might be calm, but there’s an energy in him that comes out in other ways; his fingers tap on his leg, then shift to rest on his hip. Ezreal paces a bit as he speaks, drags his fingers through his hair, checks something on the monitor set into his arm. “Like, collectively, we’ve probably covered about five hundred years of time-travel at this point. Can’t we drop it?” He glances up from the screen at Jayce, and sighs. “No, I guess not. You’re you, and I’m me. But just think about how great it’d be if you’d just. Let me take that sceptre.”

[essence-flux-primed]

@defensator

◈ — He has work to do; a future to save. A few time tiny paradoxes is, really, quite a cheap price to pay for the lives of his friends and the universe that he grew up in. His multi-universe heists have made him pretty well known, which has its perks, but mostly just makes things more complicated. Plus, he has Caitlyn on his tail half the time too, which is more than a little irritating (though he tells himself now that the way her voice turns his stomach over is a new adrenaline response rather than ... well, whatever).       So when he goes to all the effort of changing a timeline so the right object is in the right place at the right time and it doesn’t work out? Seriously annoying. His calculations were correct, he’s certain, so why? He’s just puzzling over it when there’s a quiet beep from his suit and P.E.A.R.L.’s robotic voice offers her five cents.  « The timeline has shifted. »       Ezreal sighs, brings up the information on the control screen on his forearm. “Seriously? Again? Any hostile presences at the break point?”       P.E.A.R.L. is quiet for a moment. Then,  « No known hostiles detected, Ezreal. Creating jump point... »       And Ezreal grins, despite it. “Let’s go.” He says, leaping through the portal that appears a moment later. Where he arrives, however, makes him pause. It’s where he’d modified the timeline earlier, adjusted some text in a book so that an artefact would be brought to a more convenient location so he could pick it up. His calculations had been correct, so why...?       The answer comes a moment later, as Ezreal picks his way carefully around the scene. He’s searching for objects that have been moved, or something that might have changed the course of history. Instead, he finds someone in a suit that’s really not timeline appropriate. A hand flies to his mouth too late to muffle the startled cry that leaves him, and then that person is turning, and——          “No...” He utters at the same time P.E.A.R.L. says,   « Ezreal, he’s not your Jayce. » And Ezreal knows there’s no way his Jayce—the one who died on the front lines before the war ever really got started (though Piltover kept insisting that it’d be done within the moon) could be here, dressed in gear high-tech enough to rival Ezreal’s own—but it’s still ...       He’s closer in age to the Jayce Ezreal knew, has the same hardness that a higher cause forces on people, and Ezreal can feel his pulse spike as they stare across the room at each other. Ezreal’s eyes are shaken, strained. He hasn’t seen a ghost, but it’s pretty damn close. Finally, he manages to speak.        “—Jayce?”

[essence-flux-primed]

the new arm still feels strange and by jayce's looks alone one can tell how deeply the recent events have taken a toll on him; he looks ten years older, as if a decade blinked by in less than a week. "... so, what are you doing after this?" he'd like to ask ezreal to stay or take him wherever he plans to go, but he's too proud even as the fear of being left / truly / alone in a hostile piltover grips at him.

◈ — “After this?”  Ezreal asks, and a lazy grin creeps across his face. Despite how Jayce looks now, he’s making good progress. The arm is working pretty good, considering that it’s made largely from parts salvaged from an unaware Piltover and Zaun. There are some parts, of course, that can’t be salvaged this far back in the timeline, but he’s got a few more to go.

     A few more rescues to do. 

     “What, are you going to ask me out to dinner now?” The thought seems to amuse him deeply, but there’s a maturity in his gaze when he casts it across to Jayce in the dying light. They have to move most every night now, just to be safe from the Rememberances (actually, one in particular who he really doesn’t want Jayce to meet). Today he brought them to a small hut that might have been inhabited once, a generation or so ago. “Sorry, Jaycey, but I’m taken. Right, P.E.A.R.L.?”

      P.E.A.R.L. makes a series of beeps that seems very much like what a robot brain would sound like when considering something very seriously. Then she responds: | Negative. My records indicate that you have no significant other, and no plans for dinner in the next ten years. Searching the chrono-web for Committment Issues. |

     A look flashes across Ezreal’s face that might have been shock or anger or guilt, but it disappears just as quickly. “All right, very funny. Cancel the search.” After that. P.E.A.R.L. is silent and Ezreal lets out a sigh, crossing the room and picking up object after object left abandoned on a rickety shelf. Some he looks at like he’s considering stealing them, but all he places back with something not unlike reverence. “I’ve still got more to teach you, if you’re going to be ready for the Darkin and the Rememberances,” he murmurs, and his voice is so impossibly solemn. He is almost unrecognizable from the boy who’d drank himself into a stupor on numerous occasions on Jayce’s couch.

     “After that? I’ve got more people to save. People who would make a difference in the future I come from. People I want to have by my side.” He glances at Jayce here, and the slant of his mouth speaks of grief. “People who shouldn’t have died when they did. I have to make sure they’re ready too.” Running a finger along the dust and dirt on the shelf, Ezreal lets out a sigh before crossing to the window. Outside is a short beach, and then the ocean. It’s Noxian territory, but only barely. He knows this spot well.

      “I wish I could stay here, with you, in this timeline.” The candid confession is so out of character for him. Turning, Ezreal finally casts his gaze towards Jayce again. “I can’t, of course, but I’m sure the Ezreal of this timeline would be…” There’s a quail in his voice, and Ezreal takes a breath, glancing up at the ceiling to steady himself, before continuing. “Overjoyed to see you.” And it would definitely cause a chrono-disturbance that would bring the Rememberances right to him, but it might be worth it. 

      “Just … if you do see him, don’t tell him about me. I’m sure he’d believe you, but…” Tapping the side of his eyepiece, Ezreal brings up a screen, and starts tapping away at the control pad on his gauntlet. Blatantly trying to distract himself. He’s never been good at hiding. “I just think it’s best not to.”

[essence-flux-primed]

"i see a little rabbit wandered into the wolf's lair," the god king peels back his lips in a half snarl, though the glint on his eyes is that of curiosity. "tell me, boy. what brings you here? a death wish?"

◈ —“You’re a jackass in every timeline, did you know that?” Ezreal returns, feet hovering just off the ground in a steady emission of arcane energy. “I feel like I should give you an award … hang on a sec.” He pats down the front of the Pulsefire armour, tapping where there would be pockets seven years ago, when pockets still existed. “Oh, no. Wait. I just remembered I left it in the other timeline. You know, the one where I kicked your ass?”

     His head cocks to the side, perhaps listening to something only he can hear. “Oh, right. You wouldn’t remember, would you? All right, I’ll tell you how this is gonna go. You’ve got something I need. I’m going to use it to fix the future and prevent Darkin from coming and tearing you limb from limb and pissing on your grave before doing the same to every other human being on this planet. I know—” Ezreal holds his hands up in mock surrender, cutting Darius off from anything he would say, “—it sounds like the perfect world to a sociopath like you, but believe me, it really sucks. For everyone. And you’re dead anyway, so…”

     “… Right. And you’re using the thing for…” Gesturing around at the residence with an absent wave of his hand, Ezreal manages to appear both judgemental and vaguely impressed, “for making your man cave, or wolf’s lair, or whatever it is. And it’s a cool palace. Really, it is, but it’s not worth the whole world. So either you can give it to me…” His eyepiece unfolds, beginning the process of decrypting god-code, or whatever, and Ezreal’s Pulsefire cannon flares to life at his side. “Or we’ll do it the hard way.” 

[essence-flux-primed]

some pulsefire things:

      ⋆  He’s the sole survivor of Grimdark future. Ezreal managed to escape death by stealing a gem infused with time energy, but only after he’d seen Piltover reduced to rubble and his entire family—Caitlyn, Jayce, and Vi—killed.      ⋆   His first order of business was to time-warp back and save Caitlyn, because she’s always been the one who knows what to do. But when she finds out what he’s done, she urges him not to play with time because the consequences cannot be understood. Of course, having seen the future, Ezreal refuses. This is why he taunts her in their in-game interactions.      ⋆   Just like his natural magic and his gauntlet-enhanced abilities, Ezreal’s time warp abilities are clumsy. He never got a chance to properly train them, and his innate magic that the timestone is hooked up to is raw. He gets better each time, but he can still miss a target by hours or even days.     ⋆   He’s still fully human inside the suit, but like his gauntlet, the suit is attached to him. It can fold away, but cannot be removed or stolen. Doing so would be lethal to both Ezreal and the timestone.      ⋆   Ezreal has nightmares about Grimdark Future so often that he’s programmed P.E.A.R.L. to wake him up if his heart rate picks up too much while he’s sleeping. He also talks to P.E.A.R.L. all the time, even when others are around, because most of the time his options are to talk to her or be silent and it’s become a habit.    ⋆   “Time travel was just an engineering problem.” Ezreal had to put aside his pride in Grimdark and properly delve into hextech. This is how he was able to engineer the suit, which originally served to fight back the darkness, program P.E.A.R.L., and ultimately harness the power of the timestone for his own deigns.     ⋆   P.E.A.R.L. is about 90% of his impulse control—kind of a placeholder for Jayce and Caitlyn—and while Ezreal is more tempered by grief and fear in this future, he is still very much the dauntless adventurer he has always been.    ⋆   His ultimate goal is to save his friends and prepare them for Grimdark so that they can fight by his side when the time comes. He is also concerned with finding artefacts and other rare gems that he can use to enhance his abilities and those of his friends, which either fall into the wrong hands in the future or are completely forgotten. He’s ready to fuck up the timeline completely, guys.

[essence-flux-primed]

" i was given this vessel to appear more familiar to you " (PROJECT! Jorie)

did someone call for mr. multiverse?

◈ — “Yeah. You and a bunch of other homicidal robots.” Hovering just off the ground, Ezreal is ready to blast off at the first sign of threat. He’s had it up to here with trying to figure out which of these PROJECTs are still capable of holding a conversation and which are only interested in cutting him down to get on with their work. As P.E.A.R.L. attempts a scan on this new entity, Ezreal keeps a hand on his Pulsefire cannon. “You’ll forgive me for being a little sceptical. I have stuff I need to do, and information I need to dig for before I can move on, and ...”

      « Ezreal. » P.E.A.R.L.’s warning voice sounds in the dark night. He’s never been good about not running his mouth. Ezreal sighs. 

      “Look, I don’t have a lot of time. So if you wanna fight me as bad as your robot friends do, listen ... I’ll schedule a time next week. I’ve got work to do today.”

[essence-flux-primed]

“does what i am make you uncomfortable?” [ from forsaken (^: ]

did someone call for mr. multiverse?

◈ — There’s a lot to do. For someone with near-complete control over time, Ezreal always feels short on it. He’s seen a lot of shit since becoming a time fugitive, but it seems like every universe he drops into, every timeline he tries to navigate, always wants to send him for a loop. The eyepiece over one eye gives Jayce a quick scan, noting all the augments and what still remains human, before Ezreal looks his old friend in the eye. He doesn’t fold his pulsefire cannon away, and the jets in his suit are ready to be used in a moment. After all, he doesn’t know what this Jayce is capable of, but at least he’s talking.

      “I’ve seen a lot of bad endings for you. This isn’t the worst, but I wouldnt’ve wished it on you myself,” he responds after a pause.

     It’s weird to stand across from Jayce like this now and be so unaware of his intentions—of the thoughts that might be going through his mind. Not that Ezreal is great at reading other people, but he always had an inking with Jayce. Always understood him, at least to some degree. In some universes, the Jayce he finds is similar to his own. But this one …

     … There were scars on the Jayce in his universe, physical and mental, that were never spoken of. In the war with the Darkin, there wasn’t time, but Ezreal always wondered. Did his Jayce once look like this one … ? 

     … Well, it doesn’t matter. 

     When Jayce doesn’t make any moves to attack, Ezreal lets himself relax, if just for a moment. “It looks like we have some catching up to do. Do you have a minute?”

[essence-flux-primed]

@propugnatori from x

the amount of blood the defender has lost since the ambush is easy to put to scale: fine clothes soaked in his own blood, with a notable trail from where he came from until he eventually collapsed near a wall. it’s a scary amount and how unfocused his gaze is coupled with his erratic breathing gives ezreal an idea of how it’s affecting him. right arm virtually crushed together with whatever caused the bleeding in first place, he winces when approached.

when he sees who it is, his eyes widen and focus a little bit, though the pallor and clamminess of his skin doesn’t help making him look too close to death’s doorstep.

“—ezreal?”

his voice is hoarse, his confusion is evident. what in progress’ sake would the younger man be doing in zaun? he knows he’s an adventurer, sure, but this was too much of a coincidence. that, put together with his question, makes him question if he knew of the ambush, if he caught any word of it. if so, he too could be endangered and instead of worrying about his own health for a moment, panic surges through him as he holds the blonde’s wrist with his good hand.

paranoia had always been one of his fortes, but with how overwhelmed his brain is, he doesn’t notice how much older ez looks, how his whole attire has changed, how utterly bizarre these circumstances are.

“did you know they were going to do this?” he doesn’t sound accusative, no. he sounds scared, the facade of the infallible defender of tomorrow thrown away. “because if you did,you are going to be the next on the list. you can’t let them get to you.”

⋆ — Well, Ezreal made it in time, but his timing is less than ideal. As usual, it’s clumsy and inaccurate, but at least this time there’s Jayce in front of him instead of just a smear of blood. He holds Jayce’s face between his metal palms for a moment, letting it properly sink in that this is the Jayce he remembered, not the augmented mess of a man who he became in Ezreal’s timeline.This is a very human Jayce. A very bleeding Jayce. 

     His eyepiece folds out from behind his ear, granting him clear vision in the dark and P.E.A.R.L.’s professional analysis of all Jayce’s wounds. Ezreal has dealt with plenty of injuries in Grimdark, but P.E.A.R.L.’s assistance is vital. Her mind isn’t as addled as his. 

     | Sterilise here, | she instructs him, highlighting a point in Jayce’s ribs. | They missed his lungs but only just. He’ll bleed out in three minutes if you don’t cauterise it. His arm may not be salvageable, Ezreal. Stay focused. |

     She knows him too well, knows how much Ezreal would hate to lose an arm and how much he wants to protect Jayce from that fate. He would go further back in time to prevent this from happening at all, but each jump leaves ripples that can be tracked, and he doesn’t want Caitlyn getting in the way of this particular mission. “They’re not coming for me,” Ezreal lies, trying to keep his voice calm as he struggles to get the bloody clothes out of the way. “Don’t worry about that right now. This is going to hurt for a second, but stay with me, all right? Ready P.E.A.R.L.?” An implement folds out of his forearm and Ezreal does his best to keep it steady as he begins to sterilise and stitch the wound. “Still with me, Jayce?”