#toolbalance

[the-flocking-murder]

👹 Darkin

[skydarkin]

✍

hes fork

[infinite-xerath]

"He who killed the Sun...The spiteful part of me that I try not to listen to wishes that was a bit more literal." (baccai Rhaast)

“Perhaps you would prefer I kill you instead? I am amazed you have not chosen to end your own existence, as one who was rejected by the Sun.”

[asundering]

@toolbalance​ (from here)

Rhaast felt nothing from the other scythe. No sense of sealed magic, no lingering soul, just an ordinary if fancy-looking weapon. His eye flew open. That…lucky…bastard! He just got to die? No worrying about the next host, no fighting against the constant urge to move, just an end. The same end that….oh.

“You should probably let your version of my brother in on that. If Aatrox can find a way to die, he might just decide not to bring everyone else down with him.”

So Other Kayn was going to grab chins and get cocky? Well, two could play at that. Kayn had some borrowed claws of his own, and used them to move the offending arm away from his face.

“Fooled? I don’t think you understand the situation here. Rhaast won.”

Kayn never expected to be bragging about his own defeat, but his counterpart was making some frankly offensive assumptions. As if Kayn would be so naive as to be fooled by friendship. If being rude in turn got them off balance, it was worth it.

“And then…he went back.”

Out of habit, even after all this time, Kayn doesn’t even look down to Rhaast to reply to him. “Oh, I very much plan too. Him, along with all of your other kin.”

As much as they hated to admit, the shadow starts at the sensation of the corrupted claws touching them. The memory of the feeling brought too much back. Their darkened hand pulls away from their other self immediately, an irritated expression on their face. Which only turns to disbelief once again; to the news that their buried fear for so very long hadn’t been for nothing. “...You lost?” Their tone was scornful, disappointed. Bordering anger, in fact. How could a version of them lose? Were the odds of victory unlikely, or was the fight just that close, that any outcome was possible?

A tidal wave of questions struck them, and Kayn is left speechless for a drawn-out moment. And in that time, their gaze is forced downward to that lone, red eye. “What game are you playing, Rhaast? What could you possibly gain from this little stunt?” Venom is filled with every word, but they dare not speak every question burning in their throat.

[lightshielded]

toolbalance replied: sittin’ on his Baby’s First Throne

small oaken chair where he can’t touch the ground

[steel-and-fire]

13. what does your character pretend or try to care about?

Hmmmm...well quite often Morde will pretend to have more altruistic reasonings for his actions than he really does, if it will help him extend his influence. He is not beyond lying at all. Deceit and Guile were things ‘he’ established as pillars of strength, after all.

[accursedsword]

@toolbalance

“Rhaast, and your little Shadow Warrior.” Crumbling the ground underfoot, the Darkin locked onto the host of the scythe as he turned in greeting. Every breath reverbed through the air around him, every pulse through his form shaking the earth.

“Witness what you are missing out on, brother! This carnage is mine to relish in!” Wings of embers and flesh flair out behind his monstrous frame, causing the smoke of the ruined battlefield to clear and reveal Aatrox with even more clarity.

[mercless]

🎁

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