#◟the-virtuoso ◦ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉᵐᵖᵒ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗᵇᵉᵃᵗ

[narcisisto-archive]

‘ was that stupid dare worth it ? ’

Dares were challenges issued for those whose talents and capabilities were doubted; unfortunately for the executioner, this happened more often than he liked. Life proved difficult when one had a reputation — and public face — to keep up, hence his determination to prove any person wrong without hesitation. It was a driving force to further prove himself more than the world initially expected. They may have seen an expert of his craft, but he longed for more recognition.

Even as Draven’s footing faltered uneasily and he nearly lost his balance altogether, the determination to steel his pride kept him upright. Those who challenged him marvelled at his skills, as he was no stranger to the bottle — or, rather, multiple bottles. He’d drank every single man under the table, and turned their bodies into mangled decorum before taking his leave. Needless to say, even in his hazy drunken stupor, Draven knew he would never be welcomed there again — not that he was to begin with. Ionian liquor was pisswater compared to his usual brew, and their ‘bars’ were more… traditional than he liked.

Yet even as the question arises from that familiar, harmonious voice, he finds himself grinning; it wasn’t a smile of vicious intent or prideful anticipation, but a smile of fondness. It was always nice to hear his favorite Ionian’s voice, even if it were to berate him in some way. His side finds purchase against the wall, arm setting against it fo properly brace himself, and his brows raise in an almost suggestive manner.

       “ Oh, were you watching? Wouldn’t blame you, considering I’m the best-looking thing in this awful nation. Besides, what kind of question is that? ‘Course it was worth it, do you have any idea how satisfying it is to remind people that Draven is — and always will be — better than them in every aspect of their pathetic, insignificant lives? Their deaths were a courtesy. ”

[narcisisto-test]

a

[narcisisto-archive]

‘ you can barely stand. ’

It wasn’t like him to outwardly show any form of discomfort in the public eye’s view; no matter how desperately he wished to rest upon the cool soil, he forced himself to remain upright through sheer determination and spite alone. Such a shame it was, to see this beautiful face and body covered in the same substance that often resembled a living being’s vitality; or perhaps it was a blessing, as it complimented him rather nicely.

Draven, however, breathed inwardly, emerald gaze fixated on the silhouette that had approached him. It was only until the figure came within a specific distance could he make out notable features. He grins, almost mockingly, at the observation given. Of course, he was a fool to expect anything less from someone like Jhin: stating the obvious. His exhale comes in a laugh, beathy and a little shaky, yet the grin never falters, nor does his stance despite how hunched it may be.

       “ Y’know, I’d say something about being ‘weak in the knees’ for you… but in reality, I can see myself quite nicely in your golden… adornments. ”

A simple comment it was, and the nod of his head towards Jhin’s arm emphasizes his point. Dark brows raise, suggestively, eyes meeting the critical gaze of the other; he could have laughed, but this was no joke. Upon further inspection, he could, in fact, see some semblance of his reflection in the prosthetic, albeit a tad distorted and warped by the curves and grooves. He cards a few bloodied fingers back through his hair, uncaring of keeping the locks clean as they had already been stained. Much like the fur on his vest, his hair had been a free, wild mass — beautiful, yet untamed. In a way, it was befitting of someone carrying the burdening label of ‘monster’.

       “ Looks like I finally found something you’re good for! ‘Cause, y’know, making observations isn’t really your forte; gotta state things that are exciting, not obvious to the world. “

[narcisisto-test]

a