Stand Aside

bepis

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End Rp I suppose...

Just kidding this is actually me

huehue

An actual photograph of the Administrator of the FOJ Draven Blog

She laughed, amused at the Executioner’s enthusiasm, but shook her head. “I have no clue who he was.." She sighed. “All I saw was red eyes. He was wearing a bandanna that covered the rest of his face." She smiled, however, at his offer. “You have no idea how much I’d appreciate help." She laughed again. “Thats actually why I came here. To get some help tracking him, and to help Bligewater."

Draven shrugged helplessly. "I guess if I can help in any way, just let me know..." as he trailed off his eyes couldn't help but roam the landscape of her body. What a little cutey, look at that booty. Wait a second.

"Wait, how old are you... to be dealing with all these troubles?" It sounded like a lot, even to an experienced man like Draven.

Ladies.

She shrugged and shook her head. “Just…." She sighed, and a sudden look of irritation lodged into her eyes. And it was growing. It wasn’t for Draven’s comments, no, but for the memories. The events of that day, long ago, flashed through her mind, some lingering in her eyes longer than others.

Her fists clenched. “I’ve a score to settle." She said, her voice suddenly serious and angry. “When I was younger there was a….a murder in my family. Its why I became a Bounty Hunter. I always swore that I’d find him some day, and avenge the death of my mother." Her eyes were piercing with fire as she spoke, a passion she had not felt for a while.

She shook her head again and looked at her companion. “It’s been so long since it happened I had….forgotten why I wanted to find him in the first place. After years and years, hoping that ‘this will be the one, I know it’….that hope starts to fade away…" The fire in her eyes subsided, and once more, Miss Fortune was calm, even if still a bit strung.

"Is it too much to ask who 'he' is? If I could help you, I'd love to." To be honest I'd love to do anything that gets me closer to her.

Draven popped a suddenly huge smile. "Somethin' need killin'?"

beep boil

"You’re unfamiliar with Draven’s Spinning Axes?" Draven laughed in incredulity. “Let’s hope you don’t have to get too familiar with them then… But they’re something I’d rather show you sometime than work here to describe. Trust me though, they’re a pair of beauts. Much better than that drab old executioner’s ax. Great big gawky thing, really unmanageable."

"Anyway, what brings a girl like you to a place like this? Shouldn’t you be an actress or something," he said with a grin.

The relaxed demeanor that had caressed the Bounty Hunter’s face only moments ago disappeared in an instant with the Executioner’s words. “Why am I here?" She asked. “At the Institute?" She frowned, and looked down at her hands, folded neatly in her lap. Her eyes glazed over slightly with memory, and suddenly felt a constriction of breath as she remembered the water….all of the water….

Her face flushed of color, and a terrified look crossed her face for an instant, before she shook her head to bring herself back to the present. She cleared her throat and ruffled her hair slightly. She sighed. “Just…..a lot of things." She shrugged, staring at her hands again. It was obviously a touchy subject.

Draven hadn't missed a moment of the play of emotions across her face.

"Oh, same." The more he thought about it, the more he realized he really just loved the crowd cheering his name. Draven, Draven, Draven! Was there really anything more to life? Simplicity was divinity.

He hoped he wasn't prying. "Anything in particular?"

Sarah listened intently. “The circus? Huh. I wouldn’t imagine you the circus type. But that does explain the axe-throwing." She chuckled. “Now why did you start making your axes? Whats different about them compared to the one they gave you for the job?" She tilted her head slightly to the side, an innocence in her eyes which hadn’t lain there for months. She looked fascinated, and completely enveloped in the current time. Her thoughts were all on the story which she was hearing, the life which she was picturing, and the tales that she drank like wine. Her face was calm and somewhat happy for once; not distracted by the nagging thoughts of her family and their killers.

The strain of many sleepless nights and the few gray-hairs of lifelong stress seemed lessened, and the girl’s beauty heightened by the enjoyable innocence. She smiled, and the light seemed to dance upon her face.

"You're unfamiliar with Draven's Spinning Axes?" Draven laughed in incredulity. "Let's hope you don't have to get too familiar with them then... But they're something I'd rather show you sometime than work here to describe. Trust me though, they're a pair of beauts. Much better than that drab old executioner's ax. Great big gawky thing, really unmanageable."

"Anyway, what brings a girl like you to a place like this? Shouldn't you be an actress or something," he said with a grin.

the-mastertactician replied to your post:

"He sits atop a throne constructed of Demacian bones, sewn together by the hairs of scalped Ionians. It provides quite the view."

Draven laughed at Swain’s reply. “Guess I’ll have to get a seat like that."

the-mastertactician-blog

"For sure, we’ll have to go for some sort of stroll to gather the… Materials," Swain laughed after the thought of labeled, disembodied Demacians strewn across a market.

"Just an hour or two at the store on an average day, hah."

the-mastertactician replied to your post:

"He sits atop a throne constructed of Demacian bones, sewn together by the hairs of scalped Ionians. It provides quite the view."

Draven laughed at Swain's reply. "Guess I'll have to get a seat like that."

"So the younger of the blood brothers spends his time polishing axes, nowadays," Swain said promptly after pushing Draven's door aside with his cane.

"Hah! Hey old man, something need killin'?" He grinned up at Swain for a moment before standing. "How has the highest of High Command been?"

"The military? Or that brief escapade where I was an executioner without all the bells and whistles I’ve got now?" He grinned. “I never understood the whole black hood thing. Everyone knows who’s swinging the ax, and we all know how it’s going to end. Where’s the style?"

The huntress laughed, and sat in a nearby chair. “Well, why don’t you talk about what you feel like?" She pondered an elaboration to the question. “Why did you leave the military? Why’d you join in the first place? How did you get your start as an executioner? Things like that." She smiled. “Though that is a good point. Why does killing have to be so…..unfortunate?" She chuckled at her own pun. “Why not make it exciting as opposed to depressing? And you actually did that." She shook her head with wonder. “Its brilliant."

Draven laughed quietly to himself. "Why did I join in the first place? Because I'm Noxian. You join or you doom yourself to the gutter. More than that though, I'm a Blood brother. Darius was already making a name for himself and I had to get myself out there. I couldn't just be dragged along on his name, you know." He pulled a seat opposite of her and continued.

"But there's no real glory to style in the military. They only care about objectives. Take the hill. Capture this target. It's dry work, much too dry for a man like me. When my four years were up, I said "There's no way I'm staying here," and I left. But it was hard. I tried the circus for a bit, even learned how to toss axes there pretty good. But you can't make money doing that. No one trusts a carnie either. The prison system though, paid very well for executioners. I guess no one wants that on their conscience. They're just numbers to me though, hah. So I took up the executioner's hood. But it got in my eyes, so I took it off, haha. At my very first execution I told that poor bastard to start running. Superiors thought I was crazy, but who's going to say anything against Darius Blood's brother? Anyway this poor guy starts booking it. Haha, I can still remember how the crowd parted for him. He was nearly away when I finally tossed it, and oh did it sail beautifully." Draven stops here, lost in the memory as it played out before his eyes again for the millionth time. "Thunk." With a swift chopping motion the story is over. "Just like that he was dead. Wasn't too long after that I made my axes. Beautiful little things they are," he beamed in cuddled thought of his flawless weapons.

Sarah laughed at the petty comment and rolled her eyes, smirking. Then, at the question, she thought. “Hmm…I’m not sure. What would any adoring fan ask about?" She rested her hand on her hip as she pondered the idea, her finger tapping her chin lightly as she thought. “hmm….well, what about your life before entertaining?" The huntress smiled as she stated her inquiry.

"The military? Or that brief escapade where I was an executioner without all the bells and whistles I've got now?" He grinned. "I never understood the whole black hood thing. Everyone knows who's swinging the ax, and we all know how it's going to end. Where's the style?"

The lady Fortune giggled then wagged her finger tauntingly. “Tut tut, Mr. Executioner." She turned back towards him and grinned. “This is a no touch display." She smirked, then continued. “Ah, well, I have to say, that is where you are wrong." She grinned again. “I mean, how do you think I managed to be the most successful Bounty Hunter in Bilgewater?" She laughed, then shook her head. “You know, I really do amuse myself sometimes."

Sarah’s face fell, and her shoulders sagged. She sighed. “Then again, it is sooo tiresome having so many fascinated by me." She walked back over to him. “It’s sometimes nice for someone to talk about themselves for a change…" She looked at him expectantly.