#impureium

[siniste]

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓      ,      @impureium​​  :       ❛      🗣️      ❜      (  cr.  )

[bladesurgence]

yodels five times kissed

i.

She can see Syndra shiver. The woolen sweater is thick, and the sleeves a little too long, but it might as well be a spider’s web against the wind coming in from the mountains. With a mitten-covered hand, Syndra turns a page of the book she’s been reading, the corners of her mouth scrunched in concentration.

Irelia walks over with two mugs of tea, the steam wafting through the air, and sets them down on the table in front of her.

“Oh.” Syndra looks up, a surprised smile on her face. “Thank you.”

Irelia sits down next to her, wrapping her arms around Syndra and kissing her cheek. “You’re welcome.”

ii.

A couple of pinecones whiz by Irelia’s head. She brings her hands together, holding them parallel to the ground, then raises a leg. It curves up, to her thigh, to her waist, and then kicks out. One, two, three-

“Look, Irie!”

It’s like a glass window breaking. Irelia nearly trips over herself, feet stumbling to keep her balance on the wooden stage. She turns around, and Syndra is calling the pinecones back to her and launching them off again. The trajectories start alternating: as one goes by, the other one returns.

Syndra looks like a little child opening up presents on Snowdown, and Irelia can’t help but mask her irritation. Her forms did not come as quickly. She would have to practice again.

Syndra walks over, the pinecones falling to the ground. “Did I interrupt? I’m… sorry about that.” The hints of a smirk cling to her lips. “I’m just so excited, you know?”

Irelia nods, shaking off some of her brittleness. “I know. I would be, too. That power is special. It’s amazing what you can learn to do.”

When Syndra comes within arms’ reach, she pulls Irelia in, a hand on the back of her head, and kisses her. Irelia blinks, eyes widening, but she manages to settle in. Syndra pulls away after a second, a spark of lightning in her gaze.

“I’ll be Ionia’s best mage someday,” Syndra swears. “And you’ll be dancing there next to me.”

iii.

The pain rips into her side like the edge of a sword plunging into her flesh. Irelia tries to get up, but her body refuses to answer. The sky towers above her, a gray vastness that seems impossible to navigate through.

A purple light emanates at the corners of her field of vision. Irelia sees one, two, three spheres hovering above her. Then there’s a headdress and familiar white locks.

Syndra looks down, and Irelia feels like she’s an insect underneath her heel. Instead of anger or contempt, Syndra’s eyes - what Irelia can make of them - are a dull gray, as if she wants to look through Irelia, not at her.

“You’re not my enemy.”

Irelia struggles to catch her breath to reply, but Syndra can read her lips all the same.

“What went wrong, Irelia? What made you so different from me?”

She lifts a dark sphere, and Irelia closes her eyes, calling for her blades. Where there should be a connection, between her spirit and the sword, there’s only a void. Clenching her teeth, she braces for an impact.

But instead she feels clawed fingers stroking her forehead, and soft lips that taste of ash and burnt incense.

iv.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Irelia takes another step into the foyer. The temple is huge, with walls over a hundred feet tall. She can imagine a younger Syndra exploring its hallways, running up and down its staircases. What had started out as a place of nurture became walls to shut her in.

“Why do you want to leave Ionia?” Irelia whispers.

Syndra doesn’t take her gaze away. “Do you not see what they are trying to do? The Order isn’t the enemy, trying to seal away magic. It’s the Council. I can feel it. The magic is being drained somewhere else, the leylines running dry. The vastaya aren’t pleased, either.”

Irelia wants to cry out, to tell Syndra she’s wrong, but she can’t summon the conviction to oppose her. Doubt continues to pile within her, stacking on top of itself like the snows in winter.

“You told me you would become the strongest mage in all of Ionia.’ Irelia’s throat is dry, and her words come out like crumbling stone. “I thought you meant that to help the country. Not tear it apart.”

“I don’t want to hear the Council’s guard dog,” Syndra spits out. She floats over to hover in front of her, a storm welling up in her irises. “I want to hear you.”

Irelia reaches out for Syndra’s arm, as if grabbing onto her would steady her on this tightrope she’s trying to balance on. When she looks at Syndra, she doesn’t want to see the Sovereign either. “I miss you.”

Syndra’s jaw quivers for a second, and then they lean in, hands both grabbing at bodies and pushing them away. Irelia doesn’t know who pulls away first, but they break like a rigid branch off a bamboo tree.

“Leave.”

v.

The first beams of morning light filter through the window blinds. Irelia feels a warmth next to her, like the comfort of a crackling campfire. When she opens her eyes further, she can see a sleeping form curled up against her, its chest slowly rising and falling with its breath. Irelia finds that her hand is curled around Syndra’s body, and she runs her fingers along her side.

Syndra shifts. “If it’s before nine…”

A recollection of the day looming before them comes to Irelia. “You would have to wake up, anyways. We’re getting on the 10:17 bus, else we’ll never make it to Busan on time.”

The protests come in the form of the blankets being pulled tighter over them. Irelia struggles against her holdings, eventually rolling out of the bed.

“Give me one good reason to come to the concert,” Syndra mumbles.

“I know you weren’t the biggest fan of the singles,” irelia explains, “but they always play their b-sides, too.”

“Two reasons.”

Irelia chuckles, leaning over the bed and bending down to kiss Syndra’s cheek.

“Come on, come on.”

[inumbro]

hikes up the other leg. because magic floaty witch bitch. also because Wife Status™. ' go ahead. feel my shirt. it's made of wife material. '

zed’s definitely trying (and failing) to ignore syndra now. 

oh, cursed, wicked day! what terrible tidings have befallen zed to have so many damned, beautiful people staring at him this way?

[noxianhand]

how does darius see ionia ? did his vision of it change with the invasion ? because ionia and noxus are on thin ice after the war, would he be absolutely opposed to the idea of one day, the nations brokering peace ?

meta asks, mmmm | @impureiumalways accepting!

this is a fun question. :3

to answer your first question: darius only came to know ionia for what it was through the invasion. prior to it, he had only heard of the archipelago and heard distant rumors of its magic and beauty, but given he had no interest in such matters then, it felt of little importance. after the war, ionia became a bit of a sore topic for the commander, but not for the man, and i’ll explain it in the following paragraphs!

so, here’s the catch: personally speaking, darius doesn’t hold any ill sentiment towards ionia for the botched campaign but instead, found darkwill’s growing instability to blame for war and its outcome. not to take away of ionia’s merit fending noxus off, no, but because what started the war to begin with was not right at its very heart; it was darkwill’s hunger for immortality, it was his desire to have ionian magic serve for his selfish purposes. certainly it would’ve been a formidable addition to the empire, if they had succeeded, but odds were never on their favor that once as it was in other wars. given how sour he already was regarding the late emperor’s desire for power and how it had been starting to grow taxing upon the empire itself, it’s no wonder why he’d see the ionian invasion in such light.

that prefaced, i can say that his views towards ionia as of now are neutral, the years he’s spent as might more focused on re-establishing the empire in itself than looking outside their borders. it’s worth noting that he is skeptical around ionians themselves, but not out of dislike for their nation or their culture or anything like that, no. the feeling is born from the general consensus that most ionians are not fond of the hand of noxus, not after how the empire ravaged their lands; some of course aren’t so patriotic, but as war-worn and overzealous as he’s become over the years, he’d rather not understimate the threat reasonable grudges can bring towards anyone and keep possible harm at arm’s length. 

he’s of the opinion that the change of government within the empire brought forth a clean slate in their views and how they’d approach diplomacy, which only contributed for him to regard that offensive as a mistake, which makes him favorable towards peace. he was darkwill’s hand, yes, but by the time the invasion came to be, the man had been too far gone under the pale woman’s spell to listen to any contrary advice he or the high command had to offer. him favoring peace isn’t born out of idealism but out of the conclusion that settling matters would give noxus room to move on from such a blemish in its history. 

as prideful as he is, he can easily deem that campaign as a gigantic strategic mistake with heavy losses on both sides (though he is obviously more concerned about noxian losses) and while as a person, he holds no ill will, as a general, it’s safe to say that he did feel the dent in morale that loss caused upon the empire’s armies. still, practical as it is, he isn’t hung up enough on the subject to go against talks of peace if it furthers his goals of reforming noxus from the inside out.

[inumbro]

“You move so silently. You could be a dancer.”

dishonored sentence starters / not accepting.

     Sometimes, it is difficult to remember just how little Syndra has experienced of the world. She wields power greater than Zed has ever seen as easily as she breathes, yet he just might be the only ninja she has ever spoken with. 

     With time, perhaps he might learn how best to use this to ensure Syndra does not hurt undeserving Ionian citizens, but for now, all it does is earn a wry smile from him. “I lack the grace needed to perform for others. Thankfully, quiet is useful for many more things than mere entertainment.” 

     It is a strange, observation, though, Zed thinks -- Syndra can float, can move as silently as the best of ninjas so long as her clothing does not move too much. Does it astound her that her lack of noise can be matched without magic, perhaps? Does she know that Zed muffles the noises he makes by manipulating the energy in the air surrounding him?

     (No matter how quietly he may step, there is little to be done about a stray rustle of fabric.)

     “Would you dance with me?” Zed asks the question on impulse, speaking the words into existence before he fully realises what he has done, but the longer the moment lasts, the more he thinks this may be for the best. A dance requires trust, equal partnership -- if it brings them closer together, then Zed will be that much closer to ensuring Syndra is on his side, and not his enemy, nor Ionia’s. “I am not very good, but perhaps together we may create something beautiful.”

[yuhl]

im a furry but way more importantly my confession is that ily ♥

you’re a furry !!! but you haven’t interacted w. my rengar ? are u truly a furry ... @preykeep​ hands this to you under the table . i must confess that ily too ;v;  ♥

[tenebriiis-archived]

“The Black Rose shall bloom once more.”

{ ⟡ } —  The soils bend & the air sings with uncanny vibrations. Apprehensive & overwhelming the arcane powers felt around her, sensing the strength contained in one sole delicate silhouette. It is impossible for Emilia not to feel plenty mesmerized and fascinated by this Lady. She has heard every story & tragedy, about chaos incarnate & how Ionia attempted to contain her. But how would be possible to contain a maelstrom in a crystal vase? How to contain the intensity of a hurricane & thunder & freedom in one glass box? No. That would be foolish, dreams of fearful humans who can’t comprehend what is born in the grace of uniqueness.

🙶 Your words flatter me, Dear Sovereign. 🙷  The Enchantress bows her head seemly in respect, as portraying a smile full of marvel. 🙶 For someone as incomparable as yourself to speak aloud such quote only gives me absolute hope. 🙷

[twilead]

    SYNDRA:  bandage --- patch them up when they get hurt. :3   | nonverbal  /  accepting ! 

        ◟ HE’S ONLY NOW FOUND HIS BREATH , the sweat pricking at his hairline in beads slows - he’s out of the woods for now . it’s thanks to her  ,  though none would believe him if he spoke so .  he watches , with muted illumination , as her fingers spin the bandage around his bicep and curl to fist it tighter against his skin .  he has questions, but he keeps them dwindling in his throat . his gaze shifts away, for but a breath, to glance up at the wan moon. he’d been in the throes of unconsciousness, weaving in and out, for hours now and she’d mended him . with care , wincing as he does , he twists his torso to lay a callused palm over the her knuckles , strong fingers dwarfing hers as they rest.    “ i can do the rest ”   his hand half - curves about hers, clasping them ( gratitude ).    “ thank you, syndra. i am in your debt  ”  | @impureium​