#+ the purifier; lucian.

[dirgc]

Tags.

+ the might of demacia; garen crownguard. | interactions.

+ the might of demacia; garen crownguard. | musings.

+ the might of demacia; garen crownguard. | visage.

+ the darkin blade; aatrox. | interactions.

+ the darkin blade; aatrox. | musings.

+ the darkin blade; aatrox. | visage.

+ the righteous; kayle. | interactions.

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+ the boy who shattered time; ekko. | interactions.

+ the boy who shattered time; ekko. | musings.

+ the boy who shattered time; ekko. | visage.

+ the purifier; lucian. | interactions.

+ the purifier; lucian. | musings.

+ the purifier; lucian. | visage.

+ the shadow of war; hecarim. | interactions.

+ the shadow of war; hecarim. | musings.

+ the shadow of war; hecarim. | visage.

+ the shattered queen; isolde camavala. | interactions.

+ the shattered queen; isolde camavala. | musings.

+ the shattered queen; isolde camavala. | visage.

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+ the hallowed seamstress; gwen. | musings.

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+ the wind of southeast asia; monsoon / chamroeun. | musings.

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+ the twilights daughter; innocence kaimir. | interactions.

+ the twilights daughter; innocence kaimir. | musings.

+ the twilights daughter; innocence kaimir. | visage.

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+ the revenant; vigilance malris. | visage.

+ the revenant; vigilance malris. | musings.

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+ the celestial chosen; loyalty malris. | visage

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+ son of the devil; vergil sparda. | musings.

+ son of the devil; vergil sparda. | visage.

[4senna]

@nithhaiahh liked for a starter!

    Two pistols, one notably more elegant than the other, rested on Lucian’s hips. His hands slowly moved towards them as he crept forward in the dark, and his eyes scanned coldly, emotionlessly, for his target. The exact sort of abomination awaiting him eluded the purifier; he knew only that it was a she, some girl gone corrupt, having claimed the lives of some notable officials with wicked powers that carried the unmistakable signs of the Shadow Isles’ damned blessings. It wasn’t often that he genuinely fought for the safety of his homeland; though the Sentinels were a Demacian order, the reach of the Black Mist seldom extended past Bilgewater.

     His movements were slow, calculated. Since he wasn’t sure what exactly he was dealing with, it was imperative that he gained the upper hand. He was to retrieve the woman alive if possible, which were orders he considered to be poorly constructed. For one, few of the things he fought were alive to begin with. For two, by the time he was finished with them, they were usually dead twice. But then, he saw her— and perhaps she was alive, for she looked convincing enough. From his angle, at least, her flesh was intact. She appeared skinny and frail, though even if she might have looked like a skeleton, if the bones weren’t visible, it didn’t quite count. Regardless of whether or not she appeared spectral, however, he was certain he’d found his mark; the description matched.

     His gloves wrapped around the handles of both relic weapons he carried. He almost whispered a quick damnation to the Demacian royal who’d forced the job upon him, but would not risk giving himself away just to curse them for making his task more difficult than it had to be. If not for legal proceedings, he thought begrudgingly, a beam of light would now pierce her skull and just like that he’d be done with it already. But no, he had to bring her back. Demacian politics were a frivolous machination that was wasted on his interests. Of course, he understood the need for justice, but his time was better spent releasing trapped souls and ridding the world of corrupted ones than helping hers along to whatever hell it was surely destined for after her trial.

     Slowly, both weapons raised. And then one fired. A bolt of light shot towards her shoulder— a shot meant to stun, but unfortunately not kill  —and he was quick to dart forward in turn, such that he could hold both guns to her. He almost hoped she would pull something just to give him an excuse to shoot again and call it a necessary death. But dutifully, he waited.

     ‘ Nith Haiah, ’ he grumbled the name, hands tightly clenched around the handles of both relic pistols, ready to fire if she moved. ‘ You’d better be ready for Oblivion, because it’s sure as hell waitin’ for you. ’

     He kept both weapons raised. If she were hurting, he didn’t seem to acknowledge it. His eyes were cold, and it was evident that he viewed her as no different than any other ghoul or ghost, even if she bore a convincing visage. So did plenty of other abominations he’d killed. He was used to the Black Mist’s tricks by now; she wouldn’t have the honor of being one he’d lose sleep over.

     ‘ So, what are you? ’ He fixed her with an almost analytical gaze. One weapon moved forward, closer to her, as if to prod and test her patience. He wanted her to attack, in honesty, both so that he could spare himself the nightmare of trying to control a human-turned-beast and so that he could see for himself just exactly what she was capable of. It was a morbid sort of curiosity. Creatures of the Black Mist were always desperate, he’d noted over the years, and often found commonality in frenzied bloodlust. And judging by the fact that she’d already proved herself capable of murder, he was sure she was no different. That would make killing her its own reward.