#lumensis

[rexerrat]

@lumensis oo1. / s.c.

{ 👑 } IT WOULD BE A BEAUTIFUL NIGHT, if it weren't for the heavy limp in his leg. Lights brilliant and overwhelming, a CARESS of twinkling pricks in the sky, a scent of pine curling around his sharp, pointed nose. The pain is overwhelming, but at least the mist which strokes his cheek is pleasant and loving, like a loyal companion. Perhaps if it weren't for the injury, hurt lancing up his leg with every step, he'd find interest in the strange and OTHERWORLDLY QUALITIES possessed by the Mistwood.

INSTEAD, HE'S SIMPLY CURSING HIS OWN horrible luck as he stumbles about not dissimilar to a drunken man.

ONCE THE IRRITATION OF THE INJURY wears off, he'd perhaps CONCEDE to the foolishness of greed, but until that moment arrives, he crawls along, cursing luck and cursing the foul beast that desired to overtake him. He heard that in this wood there was a well of water that grants life, that heals wounds, but instead, he finds naught but trees —- a VERITABLE SCENE of green and brown looking from the mist.

❝WHAT A BLOODY PAIN IN MY ass --❞

[isolaradiale]

i'd like to drop soraka from league of legends. she was housed in townhouse 227, and this is her url. thank you!

Dropped for you!

--Mod Lyra

[heavyhonored-blog]

he knows that the stick that barely passes as a rudimentary fishing pole sucks. he would be infinitely amazed if he at all managed to catch anything. without a reel and with a hook that’s pitiful to put it lightly, he’s more or less fly-fishing despite barely grasping the concept to begin with. at least he couldn’t go wrong with the bait.

a worm. better than the cheese or bread that hosea swore by for tiddlers.

from the depths of his lungs comes a quiet hum - an old campfire song that had fizzled out in the later years of the gang’s existence. something from his youth, back when it was just the old guard. he’s seated in the grass, bugs buzzing around him in the cool evening of yesteryear’s outskirts. // @lumensis​

[liquidsnxke]

they should quit meeting like this.

that is the first thing liquid thinks when he spots the satyr-like woman in the outskirts of yesteryear, peering up at the star-laden sky. it’s been a long while since he had last seen her, yet it had been at night with the bright expanse of this world’s galaxy over their heads. liquid thinks that his opinion of the stars - or her - has not much changed since then.

oh, what was her name...

“soraka, was it?” liquid snake crosses his arms, as thought burdened by himself. “i’m not particularly surprised to see you here, of all places.” // @lumensis​

[mellifluencex]

Event starter: @lumensis​

The marai sidled right up to the starchild, a drink in hand and a smile on her face. Despite the circumstances, it was good to see another familiar face.

“Soraka! Hello! Are you okay?”

“I saw you earlier but it looked like you were busy, plenty of injured people coming back into this safe zone after all. It’s good to see you! Sorry we couldn’t meet in a better situation, right?” She extended her arm, holding the cup out for the other to take “Here, you deserve a break too you know, can’t help anyone if you run yourself ragged.”

[tyrantofnoxus]

♚ !

Deep beneath the Immortal Bastion lies the body of Jericho Swain.

He lives.

He dies.

He lives again.

With each death a raven fades, slowly, slowly draining their numbers and taking them into himself. Their mother is perched, watching, but the general’s will is strong. He will not yield to madness. He will not be her vessel. Every piercing thought or insecurity is met by a resoluteness of force.

I. AM. JERICHO. SWAIN.

When the secrets threaten to erode his conscious mind he remembers all of his own, his past life, his former and present self. He is unshakeable. Immovable. He remembers those eyes burning with passion and sense of self, channeling that youthful vigour and anger into his own fight.

When he emerges, it is still Swain. The flowing red of his beating heart and thrumming hand tell him as much. It is good. At the end, it is still him.

[aeternuming-blog]

@lumensis

one would think that, given the circumstances surrounding this district in the past, that lloyd would forgo visiting ever again. while it reigned true that this place embodied some fresh, painful memories, lloyd couldn’t help but give in to the alluring atmosphere the forest had to offer. making a day-trip to auburn, hive city’s very own district mu, provided lloyd with the respite required for a man raised in the country and who was still fairly unaccustomed to city-life.

given the nature of the vine-laden gates, lloyd had taken to leaving his swords at the apartment whenever he visited. all was as it normally was - the walk from sector oo6 to auburn’s fringes was rather uneventful. he’s surprised, however, to spy someone near the gates as he approaches.

pausing some meters away, the brunet regards the strange woman with a brief, curious smile.

“are you wanting to go into auburn?”