♬ - a friend/best friend memory

Edward Lear (British, 1812-1888)

Azir doesn’t budge an inch, and the glaring eyes of his helmet remain dark. He’s currently seated on his throne in an odd, slumped posture. If it weren’t for the steady rising and falling of his chest plate one might assume he’d been assassinated.

“In any case there’s no one here now. I’m pretty sure everyone else is enjoying their midday rest - why shouldn’t you?”

As soon as his hand closes around the staff a cloud of sand sweeps in between the palace columns and takes form, flowing into the shapes of two armored soldiers. They don’t hesitate to split up and swiftly head off in opposite directions of the palace.

Azir doesn’t budge an inch, and the glaring eyes of his helmet remain dark. He’s currently seated on his throne in an odd, slumped posture. If it weren’t for the steady rising and falling of his chest plate one might assume he’d been assassinated.

“Phew, that’s a relief,” Vana sighed, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face. Now, normally at this point someone in Vana’s position might get off of the lap of the person they were sitting on. But Vana… well she had gotten away with this much - she wanted to see how much farther she could push the envelope, “Well in that case…” she folded her arms before resting her head against the emperor, “No reason to end the midday rest early… right?”

Azir doesn’t budge an inch, and the glaring eyes of his helmet remain dark. He’s currently seated on his throne in an odd, slumped posture. If it weren’t for the steady rising and falling of his chest plate one might assume he’d been assassinated.

Azir doesn’t budge an inch, and the glaring eyes of his helmet remain dark. He’s currently seated on his throne in an odd, slumped posture. If it weren’t for the steady rising and falling of his chest plate one might assume he’d been assassinated.

Vana’s eyes go wide at the sight of the teetering staff and an idea is born - the kind of idea that only manifests with the right amount of impulse and panic. Knowing full well she won’t be able to catch the massive spear she slides herself into Azir’s lap and pretends to be asleep herself. Yes, this was fine. 

The shock of being woken up like that still has him panting, but he does his best to cover it up while he rigidly scooches backwards in his seat, glaring at the human sprawled over his legs as he waits for an explanation.

Azir doesn’t budge an inch, and the glaring eyes of his helmet remain dark. He’s currently seated on his throne in an odd, slumped posture. If it weren’t for the steady rising and falling of his chest plate one might assume he’d been assassinated.

A soft giggle bubbled up from within Vana, “Closed? No, no that can’t be right,” another laugh escaped her, “You must open your doors. The people want to pet their floofy emperor.”

Azir doesn’t budge an inch, and the glaring eyes of his helmet remain dark. He’s currently seated on his throne in an odd, slumped posture. If it weren’t for the steady rising and falling of his chest plate one might assume he’d been assassinated.

Vana leaned closer. She caught ‘Shurima’ but anything else was lost to her, “What about Shurima, my Emperor?” She whispered once more. Absently she cast her gaze towards the door… the last thing she needed was someone like Nasus bursting in and ruining her fun.

Azir doesn’t budge an inch, and the glaring eyes of his helmet remain dark. He’s currently seated on his throne in an odd, slumped posture. If it weren’t for the steady rising and falling of his chest plate one might assume he’d been assassinated.

“Azir?” She spoke softly, “Are you a floofy bird?”

WHAT THE HAP IS FUCKENING A LEAGUE COMIC IN CO-WORK WITH MARVEL WHAT WHHHAAT