The Noxian Assassin

// So yeah, I disappeared a bit longer than I had originally intended.  I dunno who out there is wondering where I’ve been or what I’ve been doing, but I just decided to throw together an update post just to prove I’m still lurking (kind of)

// Send （　＾）／占~~~~~ to spritz my muse with water like the bad, bad doggy they are. //

Had it been water, perhaps Talon would have put more effort into pulling his punch.  Sadly, that was not the case.  He absolutely hated the reek of alcohol almost as much as he hated the person spritzing him in the face.

// Send “Life for Rent”

I will write a drabble about my muse struggling with the thought of becoming close to yours. (I decided to use this as your temporary goodbye and my last stand if my motivation doesn’t come back :< ) //

It wasn’t meant to be?  

No, it isn’t meant to be.  Demacians and Noxians didn’t mingle, nor would they ever be anything more than stereotypical enemies, each after the other’s head.  Quinn and himself were both trapped in a cycle devoid of peace - one that threw them into the world or kill or be killed - but for what…  their countries?  It sure as hell wasn’t for their own satisfaction.

The thought of being shot down by Demacia’s Wings caused the man to chuckle inwardly.  He could recall one the first times the two of them got into a tussle quite vividly; their bodies were riddled with a myriad of bruise, scratches, and scrapes along with maybe a wound or two.  In his eyes the purpose of the fight didn’t seem to be to kill as much as it was to size up and intimidate, and yet it left a lasting impression on the assassin.  

As odd or as silly as it sounded, Talon was fairly entertained, so much so that he could genuinely say that he enjoyed the experience, wounds and all.  It was the start of a great new challenge; one that rekindled his belief in his purpose and the orders that were given.

Talon jested and Quinn jeered, yet neither died.  Bloody and injured, but not dead.  Perhaps the intent to kill dwindled over the childish bickering they shared.  Perhaps a peculiar fondness began to bloom when they learned that even they shared common enemies.  Perhaps...

No.  Talon refused to think about it further.  They were enemies, and nothing would change that...  Believing in anything other than the truth would be a delusion only a fool would cling to, and he was no fool.  He was a Noxian and she was a Demacian.  Maybe it was finally time to put personal feelings aside and end it all.