The Piltovian stood at the doorway to one of the Noxian libraries, staring up at the looming entry. Maybe I'll just try again tomorrow, he thought to himself. He needed to read those books... The blonde sighed and walked away, collapsing onto one of the nearby benches as people milled in the streets. He pulled out his pocket radio, flicking the switch on and tuning it to one of the Noxian stations. Slow jazz music sung out from the speakers as Ezreal stared up at the night sky. (@wanderboylust)
Talon canted his head to a side, watching Ezreal sprawl over a bench with a radio. What was he doing showing off an item like that? Talon calculated the odds that the radio would be stolen within the next ten minutes, decided that they were high enough to be practically a certainty and that the girl with the patched green sweater was the most likely to succeed in lifting it.Piltovians. They were far too used to the Sheriff keeping crime down to know how to behave in Noxus. Noxus had extremely strict punishments for criminals that were caught but that didn’t deter crime. It just made the children from the Underground more desperate to avoid being caught. If it came down to death by starvation or death by execution, at least execution was quicker.Talon emerged from the shadows in which he’d been lurking, prowling over soundlessly to drop down on the bench next to Ezrael. It sandwiched the radio between them, making it a much less tempting target.“Most people just give money to the poor, not radios,” he said, tone utterly flat. The smooth strains of jazz provided a soft, incongruous accompaniment to his statement, notes rising softly to the stars above.