This time around, Jayce never quite stabilized Hextech
Other rp blog as @abysmal-viktor
the blorbos meet
What happened to Jayce?
On the day of the break-in at his loft, an explosion elicited one casualty. His fate was far worse--both from his illicit experimentation of the Hextech crystals and the murder of a minor...and he was banished to Stillwater.
Now he sits in his cell, stripped of his titles, in the lowest depth's of the prison. In isolation. He navigates his way through hostile inmates and abusive enforcers, developing a thick skin against anyone who crosses his path.
Although...every now and then, he wonders. If he had been able to receive support to stabilize the stone, and if the girl from Zaun had never perished. What could have been?
Rules are simple
1. Ask me anything (OC, rp, hcs, etc)
2. NSFW asks are welcome BUT
It doesn’t mean I tolerate harassment
3. Age appropriate questions only
Tags
All asks - #stillwater asks
#headcanons
Bout the Mun
Mun is 32 (an old coot) and it's important to reiterate there WILL be some nsfw content. As it is impossible to tell, honor system is those do not interact or send asks that are inappropriate for their age.
Still learning as I go - terminology and etiquette or other rp related knowledge is still a little new to me. Please feel free to reach out if there’s something I can correct or clarify!
My other blorbos
My mainfic is Arcane’s most esteemed rare-pair (I’m totally not biased) Scar and Steb 🦇🐠 I obviously have to plug it in here. Ongoing longfic.
Themes of war, politics, morality, character studies, exploration of differing points of view (aka respecting the characters, their dimensions, and the stories they tell), obviously lurve and some smut. This fic is ALL up in Firelight business.
Basil rolls his eyes at the compliment and swipes a subtly self-conscious hand over his hair-- not that it makes much of a change-- before strolling across the space to where Jayce rests.
"There's no need for flattery. I'm well aware that I look... How did my last patient put it? He was so colorful with his insults..."
He trails off for a moment in thought, then his lips twitch just slightly as he subdues a smirk.
"Ah yes-- like I've been 'ridden hard and put away wet'."
Up close he definitely looks exhausted; dark circles show clearly past the glare of his glasses and his carefully slicked back hair has come free in places, defying his effort to put it back in order. There's a faint tremble in his weary limbs that he can't conceal.
"You are my last visit tonight. I'm here to see how your injury is healing.
Do you mind if I sit? It has been a rather trying day and I could use the respite."
Jayce looks over to Basil with a slightly hitched brow. Images conjure in his mind for a fleeting moment—ones that he chooses to keep to himself. He cradles his chin casually, covering a half-smile with his hand.
Wow. Didn’t know you had a mouth like that on you. And be my guest.
Jayce chuckles and steps aside for Basil to sit, though his jest from earlier doesn’t do much to mask the nurse’s obvious exhaustion. He takes his own seat on the bed as he waits, with no intention of rushing the examination. And at this point, Jayce’s demeanor sobers. In the quietude of the cell he says in a low breath,
You look—well. Basil, I’ll be honest…you really do look like shit. Maybe you should just go home and rest; come back another time and take a look then. My injury’s better for the most part, and it certainly won’t get worse if you wait a day or two.
