#kingofthehunt

[oz--saffet]

( @kingofthehunt )

It's late. Oz has changed into silk pyjamas, and walked himself tiredly with his forearm crutches to the living room of the little apartment he's made his own - maybe a nightcap will help. Sleep doesn't come easy anyways lately- especially with supernatural creatures on the alert for hunters. He's been worried. About his family who he never speaks to any more. About his ex, who he's texted maybe a bit too much today. Just little messages: 'You owe me, you know. Bring some wine over sometime.' 'Good seeing your blood again.' 'Thanks for the dance.' 'I miss you.'

He's startled by the knock at the door, and leans into one of the crutches, checking the peephole before realizing who it is. The door swings open. "Do you have any idea how late it is?"

[oz--saffet]

( Closed starter for @kingofthehunt )

A few years ago, he would've been all over this. The swirling gowns and the music, good drinks and better company. The anonymity of it all lends itself perfectly to a hunter... his favorite jobs had been in places like The Sentinel. Slipping through the crowd, unassuming. His smaller body barely even noticed in a dark suit as he slipped off after his target.

Not anymore. He sits in his wheelchair and immediately feels othered. Eyes glance from behind masks at him. Cursory little pitying looks. He hates it. Feeling on display even here. There's nothing anonymous about being one of the only wheelchair users in the place. Doesn't matter if he's wearing a mask or not, does it?

The balcony is a reprieve, with a soft breeze helping cool him down. He's on his second cigarette as he listens to the music - just a bit far away, the dulled chatter of the partygoers enjoying themselves.

He's lived too long, been too close to the man who walks into the doorframe, for him not to recognize him even with his face covered. "Come to gloat, El?" He asks simply. Dark eyes are settled behind the delicate moth mask, lips pressed into a hard line and a glass of wine nearly finished in one hand. "You look lovely, but. Of course you do."

[devilsvenom]

closed ; @kingofthehunt

Lis hadn't seen much of Elias recently, or Oz if she were honest with herself. It's not like she was the kind of person to check up on people but she did find it somewhat strange that they hadn't even crossed paths on a hunt together. As far as the blonde was aware, if the man wasn't out on a hunt, he was in his home.

"Elias!" She called, rapping her knuckles on his door. "I'm not going anywhere so you may as well answer the door." Annalise didn't particularly know what the plan was, though it was getting dark enough that they could go on a hunt without being too stupid about it. It wouldn't take long for them to both grab their gear and get ready, she was sure. "I'm gonna start blasting your old rockstar life from the magical box called a smartphone if you don't answer. All I want is for us to go and do our job together."

[shell-gambier]

Beautiful image today! Wish I knew who by! #stag #tribal #kingoftheforest #cerrenunos #hornedone #kingofthehunt #stunning #majestic #inspiredbynature

[bladesurgence]

2016 is almost over and I want to tell you that you are a real big inspiration of mine in world building and writing in general.... like you're really talented and I always enjoy our threads and reading your responses.... you're also my bro and I'm glad we are pals and can hang out in Talon's treehouse together...

you’re welcome any time man

You provide the setup for the entertaining quality of our threads! No one can set up a scene like you, with all kinds of action elements to it, and that’s really refreshing to see when roleplay as a style doesn’t make it easy.

Your headcanon posts on both blogs are a model to follow too honestly like whenever I write things down I wish I could follow through with the thoroughness that you can create with the worlds you envision. Especially in places like Kumungu and Targon that no one else really touches, it’s good to see that someone cares about the more remote corners of Runeterra.

[frostcalled-blog]

Hey zee I confess you are a really wonderful friend of mine..... I love your headcanons on Ashe and the threads we have for both rengar and pantheon.... pantheon is preparing his climbing gear to climb into ashe's window btw.... but you have am amazingly unique sense of humor and even though I act like I hate your puns they're all amazing... you're amazing... never change.... yeah...,

tell me something you’ve always wanted to tell me | accepting

yeah jan i guess you could say that.... i like you a lot and you’re a super cool dood like.... i guess what im trying to say is that i really admire you as a writer especially considering how much you’ve been able to do with rengar?? like when you said you were making a rengar i was a little bit????? becasue what can you really do with a non-human muse 

you shut me up you did so good i now have a totally new perspective on nonhuman muses you’re such an inspiration 

but i mean... yeah..... u cool i guess... 

[inposturas]

Since 2016 is ending I'll confess that .... you are a really great writer and idc if you won't accept it because I'll accept it with enough gusto for the both of us.... like when you do talk to me about your muses you have so many ideas for them and you get so excited and I'm like wow.... Sasha you're also really fun to play league with because your flaming never really gets to me like with other people I ... kinda like it so.... and you are really funny you make me laugh so much and... ily....

Gay~!

[twiinmasks]

“You are old, aren’t you.” No attempts at stealth were made. It was pointless. For the past number of weeks, Rengar had become the center of interest for this duo. He couldn’t hide, the veil of invisibility was pointless. They could SEE him, no matter where or how he hid. There was no hiding from the piercing gaze of the one with the bow, and no shutting his ears to the cackling of the ‘wolf’. “You aren’t man, or beast. But you are familiar." The Pridestalker rose his discolored gaze, "Why?"

“Old? OLD?” howls Wolf. His mouth stretches into a giddy sort of grin. “Was I ever young? Was I ever born? Was I ever dead? Haha! This is but a moment, a blink, a heartbeat – you, with your silly, stupid mind, you don’t realize it – you think this is an event, a place in a line, but the Kindred knows – the Kindred is all! The Kindred is everywhere and every when! It is one and the same! Would you like to see, hunter?” 

And Wolf opens his maw, seems to unhinge is own jaw, else how could it yawn so wide? Wide enough that it becomes the ghastly entrance of a cave, empty and desolate and billowing with a hot, ominous wind that smells of rot and decay. 

But the hunter does not stalk into this cave, and Wolf closes his mouth and licks his lips. 

“Haha,” Wolf chuckles. “It is just as well. Your stupid head would not be able to understand the way the Kindred does.” 

“I have been with you since your youth, Pridestalker,” Lamb appears from somewhere behind Wolf’s swirling body – a shock of white among the dark jungle. At her appearance, the land quiets. Where when Wolf made himself known, the creatures froze or scampered into their little holes, the leaves themselves freeze and the trunks themselves cease their groaning, as if fearing the touch of Lamb. 

( as they should. ) 

“Your people were FINE hunts, Pridestalker!” compliments Wolf. “Yes, very fine! I have always delighted in your tribe!” 

And Wolf rushes forward, a sinister dark cloud, and presses his cheek against the jungle cat, widens his eyes and grins once more. Saliva escapes his teeth and splashes onto the dirt, making it hiss and sizzle, opening a small crater in the earth. 

“And you! You are the last!” Wolf croons, pressing closer. “The last of all of them! Haha! What is it you stupid pups say – THE BEST FOR LAST, no?”