ghcstisms-blog

[ghcstisms-blog]

a young man of bilgewater.

     Let it be known, Fate was a storyteller as any.

     Only that it was usually in the boister of taverns and inns while he gradually swept up all of the patron’s loose – and unloose – change with a round of poker and loaded words.

     This … wasn’t an inn, and she was no patron.

     He’d – make do.

     “The ol’ Reaver King of Bilgewater recently got his by the guns of Miss Fortune, little miss. All he needs now is a stake in the ground.” And Fate was there in the flesh to see all of the excitement, albeit it wasn’t much exciting for him insofar as he was making the last bids on his life with Malcolm. But now, in hindsight, he supposed it would be exicting to witness when it wasn’t your life gravely on the line.

     Only the best of a twitch at a smirk drew on his features. “Saw much of it m'self. ‘Course, that was while my enstranged partner had run me farther than I could see through the mud and backwater tryin’ to shoot me full'a holes.” He briefly glanced off to the side. “Like the bull he is, anyway.”

        “ oh my word! “

the reaver king she knew of was the very same gangplank, only she had heard small tales not through her mother, but through word of mouth. the story her mother told her was not of the reaver king, but of another pirate - a fictional one. she had, perhaps, gotten them mixed up.

       “ do tell, do tell! how was the reaver king killed, good sir? why, you would think he was untouchable! “

and think he untouchable she did - any man with blood thirst or incredible power was who she believed to be untouchable. just like her beloved luther, he was untouchable to her. but alas, everyone is touchable - a lesson she must learn herself.

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young noxian woman.

    “My lady…?”

Distress teems at her like rats to cheese. It’s off putting for the assassin, eyeing the woman but makes no move to break away. The hold she’d been in wasn’t a comfortable one, since the ghosts fingers felt like ice. she moves away to glance around, and Katarina wonders who this woman is. The du Couteau family are known for a more morbid curiosity, so her voice falls into a softer tone when speaking with the ghost.

“Are you sure he is here…?”

Do not startle her, let her figure out she is dead by herself. Shouldn’t she know by now? It’s been years. Far beyond the 400′s, in fact. A look to the woman, and lets out a small sigh. She will not speak, not yet.

        “ i’m sure... luther is here, every day, for his lunch break... but why...? where has the cafe gone...? “

cold fingers pressed against the glass, her confused distress not letting her notice that she was so deathly cold that frost began to cover the window in a small, creeping manner from her hands. once he had pulled away, it all but disappeared due to the natural warmth of the sun.

        “ oh... where could he be... aa, do tell me, what year is this? it’s the year 400, right? of course, it couldn’t be any other year, could it be? “

turning from the smithie to face katarina, the young woman could only await a response, fingers tugging on her other hand in order to attempt to alleviate some stress of being worried.

[ghcstisms-blog]

ezrxal ;;

        “ you should cut your hair, young man - long hair for such handsome young ones like yourself can only mean one thing, and if you are trying to attract a lady it will only turn their nose at you. “

friendly advice... if it weren’t so terribly outdated by at least one hundred years. the spectre was only trying to help, lifelessly cold yet completely solid fingers touching the blond locks for a brief moment.

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noxian woman.

    “Luther…? I think– “

She cuts herself off when she glances down. It’s to think, usually, she’ll look at the floor and think on whatever the other party has given her in terms of information. But she stops when she notices how she looks remarkably like Kalista.

And Thresh.

And the other patrons of the Shadow Isles.

Her eyes narrow for a second, looking at her feet as they hover off the floor and makes a noise of understanding. A ghost then, it seems. Nothing like Hecarim or the others, though. hmm.

“…do you know where he might be at this moment in time?”

a smile graced her elegant features; fingers delicately gripping katarina’s wrist - solid but cold, she was; semitransparent yet opaque. she intended to lead her, heading down the streets of noxus without fault.

        “ normally he has lunch around this time, and dines with the jailor and the judge in this... cafe...? “

a cafe, now a blacksmith’s, had been on this very street corner seventy-five years ago. frowning at the oddity, her fingers released katarina’s wrist carefully; trailing the sign of the new store.

        “ established 405... but... this was a cafe in the year 400... it couldn’t have been five years already... i was only asleep for a day before i could not find him... oh, where would he be...? “

she failed to realise that the new smithee was now three years on being one hundred years old, however, just as she had not realised she was deceased. her faint distress was showing, the spirit wanting to find her beloved and apologise - his infidelity was her fault, was it not?

[ghcstisms-blog]

man of the bilgewater.

     Right. Well, least she was strong in her convinctions – and Fate had the sinking feeling her convinctions would remain absolute. “‘Course. I can’t judge if you’ve some mystery illness I ain’t ever laid ears on.” His neutrality was somewhat pierced by her apparent fascination with his home affliation to Bilgewater, undoubtedly belied by his accent.

      But a story?

      What would he even tell her?

      He turned up a concerted effort at a smile. Divines, this was more odd than he bargained for – and that was an achievement considering. “Er – sure, I s'pose. You got any idea of what kind'a tale you want to hear?”

        “ any about the reaver king, please. i heard quite a bit about him - is he really so vicious and violent? he makes luther, my dearest’s, work look tame! “

a playful laugh, fingers covering her tiers in a tame, lady-lke manner. the picture of noxian elegance from years past, she was unaware of most current affairs - only of the institute of war and the league. gangplank’s dethronement had not yet reached the spectre’s ears, and thus would have to be broken to her.

        “ i remember one story my mother would tell me - the reaver king singlehandedly took on his own mutinous crew and ended the mutiny in less than five minutes! “

be it masochism or the fact that luther, her beloved, was a brutish executioner; her voice was tainted with fascination that such an elegant young woman should not have over bloodthirsty men. it was strange, but for some reason the ethereal glow of her spirit could attest to where this fascination had gotten her.

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young woman.

    “Draven? I have no idea.”

Would the blade of Noxus really care for where Draven was in this moment and time? No. She’s not keen on him, so she tends to keep her distance when she can. Offers a small smile, attempting to seem less hostile than most make her out to be.

“If you’d like I can help you look.”

        “ honey, you must be confused... i do not know of a draven. the executioner’s name is luther, my dear. perhaps draven is a relative or friend of luther’s that i know not about? “

frowning a little, she put her hands in front of her; clasping them together. floating just a half an inch off the ground, legs conjoining into a fluffy looking cloud of green ethereal glow; she was naught but a spectre - no more humanity was truly left, but she remained as ‘alive’ as before.

[ghcstisms-blog]

young man.

     …

     … What?

     The look that drew itself on Fate was one of collected, cool, derisive distance. More in that he wasn’t the type to immediately concede confusion – as much as this scenario outright demanded for it. He fixed a hand on one of the lapels of his jacket, looking at the – woman, it was, now – with a neutral affix to his expression. Just what was she implying?

     “I’d hate to break it to ya, little miss, but I can’t say bein’ unable to eat should be a consequence a'pregnancy. Y'sure you’re lucid?”

huh - shouldn’t be a consequence of pregnancy? how odd. what else could explain such a thing?

        “ perhaps i should have soup or crackers, then, just to be safe... aa? lucid? why, i’m quite clear minded, thank you very much. “

after a moment, she tapped her chin, before looking a little excited.

        “ are you a bilgewater man? oh, i always loved hearing stories as a child of bilgewater. do tell me a story about it, i would much rater hear it from a better point of view - that is, if you wish to tell. “

excitement rested in emerald hues, glowing ever slow slightly with the spectral light of the long dead.

[ghcstisms-blog]

bladesfornoxus / exposeyourneck ;;

the scent of noxus weighed heavily upon them, inciting her more casual greeting to pour from soft, semi-transparent tiers.

        “ greetings, my fellow noxians. do tell me, do you know where the executioner is? i must speak to him - it is imperative, nay, very much so that i do. “

unfortunately she did not mean draven, nay, she meant the executioner of seventy-five years ago - long before either of them were even born.

[ghcstisms-blog]

kind sir

     Now, Fate didn’t believe much in specters and ghosts – once upon a time, he was taught that spirits were to be feared, for they carried with them the vengeful hate that barred them from afterlife.

     Those teachings went ajar and left to die a long time ago.

     Yet – this, he knew, was strange… but he wasn’t priestly enough to stay his tongue.

     “You lookin’ for somethin’, little miss?”

        “ eh? “

the female floated slightly, but not enough for her own notice. nay, she hadn’t noticed for at least three generations that she had long passed. fingers tucked a lock of hair behind a spectral aural cavity; tiers parting to speak.

        “ i’m hungry, sir, but everything i eat goes right through me. i suppose it’s normal if you’re pregnant, right? “

she had yet to birth in three generations - death before even two months had passed of being blessed with child can leave one’s spirit thinking they are still blessed.

[ghcstisms-blog]

twixted-fxte ;;

        “ hungry... but everything i eat goes right through me... “

pouting a tad, she failed - still - to realise why eating went through her. her hunger was but a phantom pain, of course.

[ghcstisms-blog]

indie league oc. | #ghcstisms

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