#silverveined

[rouxgrace-blog]

❛ I am not the girl I used to be. I am no longer desirable, I’m off-putting in some way. It’s as if people can see the damage written all over me, can see it in my face, the way I hold myself, the way I move. ❜

the girl on the train / a. / @silverveined​

     the scent of autumn crocuses drift past her. her girlhood remembers it well. it was the scent of open courtyards with fountains sculpted from alabaster, gardens which truly introduced the beauty of color among flowers—roses, petunias, amaryllis, crocuses, there were too many to name, too many to love. the children flocked to the courtyard when their fathers were too busy sitting in council to mind them, and the maids, bless their old soul, would always watch on the marble benches placed between shrubs.

     once, as the maids watched in horror, fiora pricked herself on a thorny shrub. playfully sparring with a boy, she backed herself into the thick foliage, her limbs caught on twigs and vines, bare skin bleeding with various cuts. before the maids could do anything, a girl whose face she could not remember, but whose hands were as warm as the sunlit autumn, pulled her up from her embarrassment. she smelled the crocuses, then, in the gardens of House Vayne.

     shauna’s home has not changed, however much they may choose to gossip. fiora hears shauna speak, but she does not reply yet, her hand running through the leaves, lifting the flowers and watching them rest daintily on her fingers. 

     ❝ tell me, lady vayne, how are your hands now? ❞ she finally says. ❝ are they still pale and unblemished? perhaps a little bit rougher, large and grown now? ❞ the thorns brush against the satin fabric of her gloves but do little to scratch her. ❝ or are they scarred across the skin, all jagged lines with unspeakable tales? ❞

     fiora plucks a flower, turning around to face shauna with the flower sitting between her fingers.

     ❝ perhaps, you are no longer desirable, but instead something to be feared in their eyes. something dangerous. powerful, ❞ fiora says, as she walks towards shauna and, lifting shauna’s hand in hers, places the crocus in her palm. ❝ and i find, my lady vayne, that is something much more breathtaking than beauty. ❞ 

[lightshielded]

tbh i've thought about jarvan and vayne, but more like in a dragonslayer au. bonding through battle and what not and its real intense a lot of the time because life and death situations and all that. lots of that good good tension. hmmm.

ooh ! that’s a really interesting thought ! and, even at their base, i feel they have a bit in common which could lead to some interesting interactions, too

[threatunseen]

BEWARE THE FINAL HOUR

The trip to Shurima wasn’t supposed to include hunting and killing void things, they weren’t her target. But if they would WILLINGLY put themselves in Shauna Vayne’s line of sight, she wasn’t going to go out of her way to ignore something so IMPURE. The stories she had heard about the void beasts made them seem like any other creature. mindless, only existing to eat and survive and reproduce. But this one was different. It could SPEAK. All the more reason for it to be PUT DOWN.

Taking several steps back, Shauna could feel the sand shifting uncomfortably under her feet. She was too used to solid soil, the sand threatened to knock her off balance. A quick glance downward as she moved, only long enough to ensure she wasn’t going to trip over her own two feet. The beast before her flared its appendages in the strange way a bug would, almost ready to take flight.

         “ INNOCENCE cannot exist in this world. Not with your kind free to spread FILTH across the sand. ”

In the matter of mere moments, Vayne assumed the creature had enough of her and pushed itself off the stand and straight toward her. Without even a moment to think about what her next action should be, Shauna threw herself to the side, tumbling out of the way and out of sight just in time.

If Kha’Zix possessed a sense of humour, perhaps he would have considered it amusing that such lesser creatures as the flesh-things considered themselves superior to the Void and its creations. But as it was, the Reaver lacked that particular facet of personality. Instead, he was entirely focused on the female manling that had challenged him. Her movements were precise and fluid, a practiced huntress, and that was something Kha’Zix could appreciate.

In the end, though, he was the superior predator. He always was.

She disengaged in a flurry of sand, vanishing behind one of the larger sand dunes, trailing her crimson apparel. With a low, guttural hiss, Kha’Zix retreated several paces, wings outstretched and claws plunging into the treacherous ground beneath his feet. The sandy ground was unstable, and his clawed feet struggled to find purchase, but so it was for his foe, as well. With his thermal receptors blinded by the ambient heat around them, the Reaver had to rely instead on sight and sound, estimating Vayne’s position from her earlier trajectory.

If he could not pinpoint her, then he would flush her out. In a sudden burst of motion, Kha’Zix lunged over the sand dune, four hundred pounds of Void-charged carapace and muscle. As he skidded over the top, he sighted the huntress, and fired a barrage of thin, needled spines through the air at her.

@silverveined

[thequeenofbeasts-archive]

for @silverveined​.

          it's been weeks since her last trip to polis, which leaves her long overdue.  so, upon receiving the green-light from her village's healer, she gathers her belongings and her horse, artemisia, before making the trip.  she arrives close to dusk and settles in just in time to be able to roam the streets near the tower while the daylight still lingers.  a basket of herbs and jars of suspicious liquids rests on her hips, and while she may appear casual, she's anything but.  costia's looking for someone yet disguises it as being lost in thought.

[damnmechanicd]

❛              is it hypocritical if i tell you that you’re going to run yourself into the ground?   ❜   yes,   raven,   you know the answer to that one already.   she doesn’t skip a beat,   plopping herself onto the other woman’s desk and on top of a stack of open books.   much like a gnat she doesn’t quite know when to stop.   leaning in,   leering,   raven’s voice lowers in volume        as if that makes up for the prior obnoxiousness.

❛   c’mon,   i’ll buy you dinner.   ❜

/   @silverveined​; clarke.

[cravesfreedom]

           ❛    so, be honest,  ---  you truly think i have a PERFECT ass ?    ❜   tone is nonchalant.  though chloe’s statement was made days ago, the words haven’t strayed far from rachel’s mind.  there’s also a silent hope that the question will DISTRACT both of them from their respective paternal concerns  ---  even for just a moment.  ( @silverveined ! )

[inumbro]

∅

zed’s opinions on muses / not accepting.

      “When I think about you, I think less about who you are, and more about what you do, and what you would consider those who tread the line between human and something darker.” More importantly, which category does Zed fall into? True, he is human, he bleeds and feels pain and would die quite quickly given someone skilled enough made a serious attempt, but corruption scars his skin and flickers at the edges of his mind, and some Ionians have decided that is enough to decry him as monster. 

     “It is good to have a cause that one is dedicated to, but it seems as though you have taken a personal vengeance against those who might simply be trying to survive.” Some might think it hypocritical for Zed to question whom another tries to kill, but he takes his murder far less lightly than others assume. “You lack compassion because of one crime. Khada Jhin killed dozens, that does not make every Ionian a horrific serial killer worthy of death. Judge, jury, and executioner is far too many titles for one person to hold.”

     Zed shrugs. “Still, you must have rid this world of some truly monstrous creatures, and I suppose I should thank you for that.”

[vilewrought]

@silverveined

          TO TRESPASS HERE,     relying on shadows, was a foolish idea. Maria lived in darkness, she breathed horror. She had seen plenty die at the hands of the beasts that dwell in the black.      “ I do not know if I should call you brave, or foolish, “ she spoke out, caressing the hilt of her Rakuyo. “ but the darkness is the worst place you could use to hide. “