SCARS
send [SCARS] for a story about one of Talon’s scars! | still accepting
“This one’s actually because of a different Ezreal.” Talon traces the mark on his shoulder, scarred fingertips and blunt nails circling the oval of indented flesh. It looks like a thumbprint cookie, as if the raw dough of Talon’s body had been marked by the press of a finger before it had been cooked. So harmless a scar for how close it had come to killing him. So small and innocent a mark for all the pain it had caused.
“Someone tried to shoot him. I got him out of the way and the bullet hit me instead.” The corners of his mouth quirk slightly. “My armor’s meant to turn away edged weapons, the kind most people wield. It’s good for stopping knives and swords and axes. Not so good at stopping things that punch into you at hundreds of kilometers an hour. It went straight through my armor into my shoulder, but it stopped there. It didn’t go through me into Ezreal.”
So as far as Talon was concerned, it had turned out well. Sure, he had nearly bled to death in the street in Ezreal’s arms but had Ezreal died? No. Had Ezreal been hurt? No. Not unless being traumatized by the near-death of his friend counted as hurt.
There’s something a little soft in Talon’s eyes for a second as he touches the scar again.
“I think – yeah – this is the only scar I have because I was protecting someone.”
[Based off this thread with @timeforatruedisplayofskill!]
