Kayn sat up in bed, his long azure locks falling around him as he did so. He squinted as the light from the window blinded him temporarily, indicating that morning has come about and it was time to get ready for the day. But he just sat there, staring out into the stars and ran his hands through his hair; setting out to untangle every knot.
He had forgone his eye patch the night before, leaving the old and nasty scar visible upon his chiseled features. His golden markings washed away, leaving his face bare and plain. Right now he was no Ordinal. He was simply Shieda.
The Demaxian looked to his side; the bed was empty. He sighed, averting his eyes. Jarvan only got up much earlier than he when he was particularly busy, leaving Shieda alone until they eventually saw each other once again in the evening. But usually they would be too tired to do anything but talk for a bit before dozing off. Their hours were long, their schedules always full, and their jobs so demanding that they never got to spend much time together. Especially with all the in-fighting as of late.
Memories raced into his mind of the recent incidents that have happened within the Demaxian military. More and more higher ups were being convicted of corruption of power, and more and more weight was being put onto the young Ordinal’s shoulders to be better than them; to bring them to justice. To show the galaxy what the Empire truly stood for. Yet Shieda wanted what those traitorous Ordinals had; he wanted power. Of course, he would never obtain it the way they had, but he yearned for it all the same.
He then began to feel nauseous; moving his hand to cover his mouth. Ordinal Valkyrie, Ordinal Yelena, Ordinal Clearmoon, and many more... All have either turned against the Empire or taken their rule too far. The only thing they had in common was that they were enemies of the emperor and that they had fallen by Kayn’s hand. He felt like he was going to be sick.
Slowly he reached for his tablet on the bedside table and shot Captain Almyra a message, informing her that he wouldn’t be able to make it in today. He knew it was rare for him to suddenly call out, since he had never taken a day off before unless decreed by the emperor, so he was anticipating the worried messages and visits that would come his way. But until then he would just sit there and rest. And think.
He gathered all his hair to one side and began to braid it, hoping it would take his mind off of these troubling thoughts.
. . .
The first to check up on him was none other than his best friend, and quite possibly his lover, Jarvan. The Emperor gently knocked at the door before opening it slowly. Kayn glanced over, having not moved from his position since he had awaken. But upon seeing his friend walk inside, a smile found its way onto his face.
“Shieda,” The brunette began, closing the distance between them rather quickly. “I received word from your captain that you called in sick today?” Both his voice and his eyes were heavy with concern. Jarvan then sat upon the bed and placed the back of his hand against Kayn’s forehead. “You are a little warm...”
The Ordinal reached up and took Jarvan’s hand into his own, pulling it down and pressing it against his chest. “Worry not, Jarvan, I’m fine. Just a little tired is all.” He offered up a smile, though it was forced, but he could tell the other wasn’t buying it.
“You have forced yourself to work through life threatening illnesses before, yet you are taking today off simply because you are tired? That is not like you.” Jarvan’s free hand moved to cup Kayn’s cheek. “As much as I am all for you taking breaks, this concerns me. Please, tell me what’s wrong, Shieda.”
Kayn averted his gaze, staring down to the white sheets that draped over him. What would he say? That the horrors he had witnessed were what got him to where he was now? That innocents have met their fate by his hand simply because he wanted to prove a point? Or because they were simply in his way? That violence was easier to manage than diplomacy? He would lose his position- he would lose Jarvan’s trust.
But he valued Jarvan; lying to him would only worsen how he felt.
“I’ve seen many things, Jarvan. Things that haunt my dreams and eat away at my mind. Valkyrie’s atrocities will never truly cease- they live on in the minds of other beings within Demaxia; those who share the same opinions as he.” He turned his golden eyes back to his Emperor. “This will not be the end.”
Jarvan was troubled, that much Kayn could see, but the brunette steeled himself and looked to him with confidence. “With you by my side, we will work our hardest to prevent such things from happening again. We can return the Empire to it’s former glory- we can bring peace to the galaxy. You are strong, Shieda, together I know we can do this.”
The Ordinal’s eyes widened slightly as he listened to his friend, his head racing with so many thoughts his mind could not keep up. An emperor whose ambitions were as vast as the stars in the sky, yet lacked the backbone to do what was necessary to reach them. A dreamer, only fighting if needed. Yet the Empire needed to fight- to remain strong, but Jarvan would rather resort to peace and diplomacy. But without war there could be no peace.
While that side of Jarvan frustrated him, he couldn’t help but find it endearing. Who knew the Emperor of the feared and respected Demaxian Empire was a kind and gentle soul who wanted nothing more than to help all who resided in the galaxy. He wanted peace, he wanted to help the poor, he wanted to protect the weak and vulnerable- His compassion was what Kayn lacked. It was what kept Kayn in check. How could a man be so pure?
Kayn sighed before leaning in, resting his head upon Jarvan’s chest. “I wish more people in the world thought like you, Jarvan.”
Including me.
He snaked his arms around the others waist and sighed in content. “I will help you obtain that dream of yours.” He mumbled, closing his eyes in an attempt to fall back into a deep slumber.
He then felt a pair of arms wrap around him and squeeze him slightly. “I cannot think of a better person to help me with such a difficult task. Thank you, Shieda. You are- just so wonderful.”
The Ordinal felt his chest tighten, a frown forming on his face. “Enough flattery, I’m tired.” He complained, nuzzling the other in an attempt to hide his face.
“Of course, Shieda.” Jarvan chuckled. “Now rest. I will stay with you for as long as you wish.”
IN TRUTH, as soon as jayce realized how deep into demacian soil he had been he imagined it wiser to pull back, but by the time the thought became a priority, he had been caught. he had offered very little trouble to the soldiers as a way to keep from greater trouble, so while they had been assertive about their approach he had suffered little to no harm. he hadn’t been too helpful offering information about himself, however, silence his greatest friend ever since he had become forsaken; it’s perhaps a dramatic way to call it, but after one loses all they knew and all they were known for, he assumed he had the right to it.
he expects demacians to react poorly to hextech and given how mangled his body is by augmentation, he doesn’t expect leniency. such tech was nothing short of witchcraft in the eyes of these people and while ages ago jayce would’ve scoffed at such ignorance, now he sees purpose to their defensiveness. being the one who bears it onto his flesh hasn’t been anything short out of a curse, so why should anyone else see it in different lighting? so when their superior orders them to let him go, his eyes widen a fraction, remaining on his knees.
he expects the following actions even less, the second jarvan kneels down earning him a nearly concerned, shocked stare from under his cowl; something of a sight to behold, since ever since his transformation he had been lacking on expressiveness. it’s no use to linger on the sentiment of surprise, however, so he evens out his expression, looks over the other man’s shoulder to focus back on reigning his behavior.
“... a name in my case will not mean much,” names of dead men hold no more weight, he thinks, bitter, but focuses on how the metallic timbre of his voice comes out gravelly, the days without speaking taking a toll on his faulty voicebox, to avoid getting sidetracked. ah, he hates it. “but a title should. suffice, yes?” he drags his gaze back to meet jarvan’s, before he stares at the hand extended to him in hesitance.
Ekko’s standing on his tiptoes, feeling the walls of his holding cell, closely examining them for weaknesses that he can use to make his escape, when he hears footsteps. He instantly falls to his knees, leans up against the wall, and begins tracing patterns on it with his finger, trying to make it look like he has been in this position for a while.
His arresting officers made a point of bringing him in alive, saying that the Emperor ought to be the one to decide what to do with him. Treason or whatever, a pretty serious offense, they said. They confiscated the Zero Drive, too, under the pretense of it being some kind of deadly weapon. When he protested, they laughed and told him he wouldn’t need it where he was going. It’s likely being held for evidence somewhere, and he will have to retrieve it once he gets out of here.
Which does not look like it’s going to be soon, as the Emperor has finally made his appearance before Ekko’s cell. He knows he’s not in the position to be disrespectful, but it requires entirely more energy than he has to muster up a single sliver of respect for the Emperor of all people, and he figures there isn’t much he can do to make this situation any worse. So, he looks at the man, snarls, and spits, “Fuck you.” He’s been wanting to say that for a while now, so as long as he has the opportunity... he might as well.
He is quick to return his attention to the pattern he’s tracing, though. He can’t meet the Emperor’s gaze for long because the truth is that he’s scared of what might happen soon, but he’ll be damned if he shows that kind of vulnerability to this guy. He’s trying to appear tough and almost nonchalant about this whole ordeal.
“I'm surprised you came all the way down here to see me. Always figured you had people for dealing with this... specific brand of problem.” Every word hangs heavy with bitter resentment. Truthfully, Ekko likes to believe the Emperor does as little of his own dirty work as possible, and the man’s appearance here and now isn’t really enough to change his mind about that. “Well? Isn’t this the part where you start droning on about my ‘crimes against the empire,’ as if I’ve forgotten what they are? Get on with it, then.”
♦ Send in ‘Mask’s Calling’ to meet a muse I’m on the fence about roleplaying as.
The sun was setting in the horizon, blanket of darkness rolling in slowly like a predator on a prowl. The approaching night was getting chilly quickly by the minute. Everything being quiet and calm, but the casino, which was just waking up for the oncoming night.
Guests arriving in a what seemed like a never ending line, and of course Maximilien was welcoming them at the door as usual, flipping a golden poker chip between his metallic fingers effortlessly, all the while trying to keep his mind from wondering to the paperwork that still waited to be filled in his office.
The night was still young, he would most certainly have time to fill everything by morning, right? - Unless the exciting taste of some certain.. temptations would take hold of him once again.
- Maximilien from Overwatch.
// I’m much closer on making that blog for him after writing this..Damn you Cas (ﾉಥ益ಥ）ﾉ ┻━┻
To own the truth, he was taken aback a bit… This was a sort of intimacy he was unused to, at all. Sure, he had Shieda… But that affection wasn’t like this. It was hugs, and praise, not…
…Kisses.
“…Is this a Demacian tradition, sire? I will admit that this is something I have not seen before.” Sometimes he saw the Acolytes do something like this, but the way they did it would not apply to this situation.
