L I M I T L E S S

and diana, for the first time in a long time is caught off guard. such power radiates from the woman she had not even seen hovering above her, and yet the temple did not inform her. did she approach from the sky? a weakness diana would have to compensate. 

“and just who are you,” she begins, book casting aside and blade slipping into left fist as she rises from her spot in the grass. “to demand anything of me?” 

Syndra clicks her tongue, head angling with disappointment.

“Now, that was not what we agreed upon, is it?” she says with a frown. With a minor twirl of her wrist—unnecessary, considering she need only think to do it, but the theatrics are always fun—she lowers herself enough for the other to study her properly, as she did the same. Glowing eyes explore the armor of this woman, seeking hints of its origin— to no avail. She has truly never seen anything like this before.

Syndra gazes back up to her face, lips curling with amusement. This woman is angry, certainly, for how ready she is to point her crescent-shaped blade towards her.

His crimson eyes lit— the demon was always pleased to be noticed. For mortals were curious creatures, so motivated by curiosity and the desire to understand. He loved every single bit of it.

It, of course, made his task easier.

But this woman was no ordinary mortal. She brought forth his own curiosity. His gaze fell upon her first, before his body followed. His mask’s malicious gleam seemed to intensify as he approached her— his smile was akin to a jagged maw, filled with sharp teeth, much too wide for any human to possess.

       “Haunting the lands? You misjudge me.” A vague hint of amusement lingered in his voice. 

      “I grow bored of the squabbling of mortal rulers. And nothing seems to amuse me.” 

He conjured forth a golden kiseru, gently pinning the tip between his lips. 

     “Although. If there were to be a small bit of destruction, I cannot deny that it would be interesting.” 

“Oh?” her voice booms curiously. Eyes that were already bright only grow brighter, gleaming with excitement towards the demon. White teeth visibly show as her smile widens into a grin, and though it is no where near as impressive as the demon’s, others would deem it terrifying for none the wiser. The Dark Sovereign, as they call her, is exceedingly intrigued.

“What a coincidence. I, too, am bored of mortals, particularly those too foolish for their own senile minds,” Syndra halts her idle floating in favor of being still, feet not touching the ground but no longer moving up nor down. 

somewhat like a child caught before a raging bull, ashe freezes, eyes wide as she looks up at the woman whose feet do not touch the ground. something in her is almost bitter in the immediate; ashe had fought hard for this moment of silent solitude in the serene garden of the placidium, and here it was; disturbed by a stranger that seemed to have come from exactly nowhere. 

(but alas – pink tinges her cheeks and a frown creases her brow, utterly caught by the suddenness of the entire interaction.) 

“i–” ashe stutters, at a loss for words, before her words take a brusque edge despite their childishness. “i wouldn’t know, i haven’t met another.”  

If she is to count herself a queen as well, then suppose she has met another. Though, confident in her own beauty as she may be, this gorgeous little queen is unmatched in all manners. She imagines she could probably run her hands through that stark white hair, snowy beyond her own, and stare at her face for hours. The only comparison she can make of this queen now is to that of a doll. (The ones she has seen in books and always wanted as a child, only to be denied even the simplest of pleasures within that temple.

But nevermind that wretched place, she would carry this woman home if need be.)

Muscles tensed, the immediate reaction had been to retreat further. But more than that, her pulse had been tempted to increase. But a steady breath willed it to remain calm despite her quarry. Had the being bathing before her been her target? In a sense, but not a target to end. Even so, the sudden call tempted her to believe another had intention of joining. 

But more than such, she knew the truth. The other had sensed her of all people, but it went without saying. Her next motion however had forced her to quell her initial apprehension. Revealing herself in turn, sights didn’t drink in the Sovereign’s form but rather fixated on the woman’s gestures and body language. She felt no need to demonstrate surprise that the other had noticed her. 

“I’d prefer placing business before—pleasure. Good evening.”

“Oh, and here I thought we were simply having a pleasant time together.”

So it is a woman that appears. At the very least, she has no need to wave off a man leering at her in a loss of patience, which happens all too often should she choose to show more skin. (The idea of nudity itself being erotic baffles her to no end. She wonders why one should care so much about how much clothing she wears.)

Syndra turns to the other, floating up from the water to gaze upon her.

       It was indeed a rare occurance that the Vixen had her personal space intruded in the forets she called homes. To the unsuspecting her appearance and outward demeanor made her a target of much admiration and adoriation…. but, for the most part, it was fairly common knowledge in Ionia that one was supposed to run from the Nine Tailed Fox whenever she appeared. Nonetheless, it would seem as though the woman had caught Ahri off in a moment of rest, Amber hues glancing down at the hands around her waist.      “Certain parts of me are quite soft, yes….                           But I assure you that my teeth AREN’T one of them.”  

“But of course not,” she murmurs into the fur.

Never one to care for social cues, she had made no effort to make herself known prior to gathering a face full of tails into her arms. (Not that social cues are very necessary in a forest, but it seems Ahri does mind the fact that she is much too intimate for her own good. She would rather not be bitten today.)

Indulging herself a second longer, she finally releases her.

“Don’t be shy now,” she says to the empty air.

Magic, of course, comes with many uses. The convenient levitating, the glow in her eyes purely for aesthetic, the detection of a sneaky little mouse spying on her while she takes a dip in the water. They veil themself well, considering she cannot see where they are, but her instincts were not to be underestimated. She feels a presence somewhere.

“Perhaps it was rude of me to come without a greeting,” her voice booms, yet her tone is very well the essence of a girl much curious, much amused to find herself a temple on these mountains. It is by luck, really, that she sees it on her way from flying in the skies.

“What a pretty face you have!”

It comes with slender hands, cupping the aforementioned with excitement. Glowing eyes study the graceful features, marveling in the detail. This is what people of the Freljord look like? How gorgeous they are. How she would easily be attracted to them.

It has taken her quite some time to find the queen alone, but now in this moment, she takes the chance to acquaint herself.

For what it is worth, her ever curious nature for the things around her does not at all permeate her caution for otherwordly existences. This one in particular screams demon, with their blood-painted armor and their blood-painted eyes. The mask, however white it is, might as well be blood painted for how demonic its smile is. It is almost cliché, for how their appearance fits by-the-book.

The perky ears. The cushion of tails. The softness of both skin and fur, she is sure, would provide her the most comfortable sleep she has had in days. Not to mention, the fox’s face is quite pretty. Nevermind the tales she has read of a nine-tailed fox and its wiles, she is absolutely too cute.

Slender arms wrap around the fox as her face plants into the tails. 

“Well.”

And it booms, her voice, not out of shock or offense but by the way she is amused to find a little shadow warrior within her sights. Surely if she sees one now, it is with purpose, is it not?

     “This mask?” Jhin asks, quizzical. There’s something off about this woman – be as it may that she was levitating, but she hardly had the visage of a spirit that he’s keen on remembering. A mage, then.

     – What was a mage doing flittering about in the evening before night?

     He shakes his head. “I’m afraid this mask is unique, my dear. It would not be on my face if it were only to be given away. However –”

     Jhin smiles, not unlike the conceited grin his mask wears. “– perhaps I could treat you to that of a lovely performance?”

“Performance?” she echoes. 

As is her nature, she is curious like the crow is with everything within its sights. A part of her is tempted to simply take the mask by force, both revealing the illusive face behind it and to add to her collection of trinkets as a memento for her explorations. (But it would not do to always take from others, did it? Much as they took from her; those years of her life. She supposes she may keep her hands to herself, if only to see where this may lead.)

Simply scouring the archives within the temple, she soon feels a tug on her ankles. Not that she couldn’t fight against it, but she knows those hands all too well. Playing along with the Lunari, she drops down to Diana’s laps in an instant, settling against the other with her head leaned on shoulder.