"a disgusting pile of fur is what you are, YORDLE."
“Ok.”

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"a disgusting pile of fur is what you are, YORDLE."
“Ok.”
"oh, so you revealed my brother, AATROX? good job on discovering the worst of the bunch, EXPLORER."
“I found stories of Aatrox that went through millenia and were thousands of kilometers apart, and even from civilizations I had never even heard about! It’s not my problem if you couldn’t make it down in history.”
@rhaaxt
– @rhaaxt ( starter )
-- Perhaps others would not dare approach such a creature as Rhaast after a fresh massacre, but the Kindred does not know fear of this kind. Indeed, it does not know fear at all! And so it merrily gnaws at inners in the presence of the stupid pointy headed red man, not a care in teh world! Such is the life of the Kindred.
rhaaxt started following you
“why don’t you ditch that kid and come with a real weapon wielder?”
"your tactics are flawed. your style is flawed. it is time you let ME take the reigns, KAYN."
@rhaaxt
flawed.
flawed, he says. the word pierces his ears like teeth grinding stone, drowning out the dissonant ringing of blood. flawed. flawed! what does he know?
there is silence, then; at least for now. the darkin is little more than a nuisance, and kayn has learned how to play his twisted games. deny him, and he will grow restless. reject him, then starve him, and he will have no choice but to obey as any tool would. you want control, demon —— kayn thinks, knowing rhaast will hear him. you cannot have it. this body is mine, and so are you.
but oh, how his very voice burns him so. it’s maddening, the way he digs his claws into his skin and scrapes at every last crack in kayn’s will just for a reaction. just for a chance to coax him further away from himself, so that he may take it all away like the insolent beast he is. it is time you let me take the reigns, he sneers, and kayn snarls in retaliation.
he swivels on his feet, blocking out the hungry growls within rhaast’s incessant prattling and wiping beads of sweat from his brow. he is alone with him again, gnarled and crimson corpses littering the cobblestone.
❛ you know nothing, ❜ kayn hisses, standing idly beside one of the bodies and dragging the end of his scythe through the viscera. ❛ you are nothing without me, rhaast. it is time you learn your place. ❜
the scythe is held high above him, angled so that any swing regardless of the force will rend the soldier’s head from his shoulders. ❛ you are nothing more than an object to be used. ❜ the wielder receives the glory, not the weapon. they will honor me, and forget all about you.
❛ and once you have exhausted your use… ❜ there is no hesitance to be found in him. he takes a short breath, and brings the scythe down without warning.
———— ❛ you die. ❜
❛ It was time to whip the god. ❜
( literature ) || ( accepting )
the arrogance of the creature was astounding, if not impressive. only those wielding either none or all of the power they thought they had acted and spoke in this way. fate cannot help the slight raise of his brow at the darkin.
“the act of whipping the incorporeal seems like quite the hassle.” he says, tossing the reply over his shoulder. “tell me how that goes, i’ve learned to stay out of the affairs of the... ephemeral.”
❝ I am not a murderer. ❞
And then, Kled swung the scythe, unceremoniously beheading the Noxain official. The sound had always been the same, like some sort of plea for mercy being silenced, or a scream.
But that one had been a true Noxian. Looked him straight in the eye.
“That’s too bad.”
The yordle’s lips parted, a horrid maw filled to the brim with sharp teeth. A small demon that had crawled his way out of hell itself.
“-----But I am!”
rhaaxt replied to your post
"and ditch a half-naked brat for a tin can brat? my, why diversity is what i truly needed."
BOOMING LAUGH.
“I do think you misunderstood. I am not offering anything to you. I am ordering you to be mine.”
@rhaaxt