f e a t h e r s t o r m .

you long-suffering, endlessly patient angels get two memes today bc i deleted everything in my inbox on my rp blog and i made these memes to top off a solidly productive day! also, if you ever feel guilty about “not being productive” or having to delete drafts and memes in your tumblr life, DON’T! you’re wonderful and valid and your personal comfort and peace of mind is far more important than an overwhelming inbox or draft count! anyway, these are also self-serving, but also i feel no shame bc there’s an extreme lack of this very good vibe in my line of work, so here u go besties. DO NOT ADD ANYTHING TO THIS LIST!!

DATE UPDATED: 19/10/22

[ PIN ]:     sender pins the receiver to the ground and straddles them while training together.

[ SWORD ]:    sender invites the receiver to engage in sword fighting practice with them.

[ AIM ]:    sender and receiver go to target practice together (using any weapon of choice).

[ GUIDE ]:    sender readjusts the receiver’s stance and posture with their hands while training together.

[ STRIKE ]:    sender aims a blow (via either their fists or their weapon) at the receiver.

[ BLOCK ]:    sender blocks an on-coming attack from the receiver.

[ ARMOR ]:     sender helps to show the receiver how to wear and take care of their armor.

[ PREPARE ]:     sender guides the receiver through some pre-battle stretching exercises.

[ CHALLENGE ]:    sender challenges the receiver to a sparring match/actual fight.

[ TEND ]:    sender and receiver tend to one another’s wounds in the aftermath of a fight.

[ RESTRAIN ]:    sender physically restrains the receiver from attacking someone else.

[ FEND ]:    sender adopts a defensive position that stops the receiver from launching an attack on them.

[ PUNCH ]:    sender punches the receiver (to an unknown degree of success or failure).

[ KICK ]:     sender launches a kick at the receiver (to an unknown degree of success or failure).

[ TACKLE ]:    sender physically tackles the receiver during a fight.

[ DRAG ]:     sender physically drags or carries the receiver away from a fight.

[ UP ]:     sender extends a hand to the fallen receiver to help them to their feet after a fight/sparring match.

[ BACK ]:    sender stands behind the receiver while in the midst of battle in order to help them fight off their enemies.

[ ARRIVE ]:     just as the receiver is about to lose hope and become defeated, the sender arrives at the last minute to help them fight their enemies.

[ EXTRA ]:    sender hands the receiver a spare weapon during a fight to give them a better chance after they break or lose their own.

[ WALL ]:     sender slams the receiver against a wall during a fight/sparring match.

[ COVER ]:    sender lunges forward to throw their body over the receiver and shield them from harm during a fight.

[ POWER ]: sender and/or receiver use their powers during a sparring match in order to develop and enhance their abilities.

"I'm still here." At least, someone should be. As Xayah clutches at her clothes, Ori feels something swell in her dead heart. Something old and forgotten, like rusting gears. She hears the whispers still - foolishly sympathetic! - but she pushes those thoughts away. Pushes away the monster, the villain, the foretold apocalypse. One day, she will be the ruin of all things. But not yet. After all...

"I'm still here." She understands. No hospitals. Not always possible. There's a nod of her head. Xayah looks more and more like a wounded bird. Like her. And oh, how she hates mirrors, how she finds them disgusting, nauseating, mind-numbing... Where's Janna? Where's Sona? Where's Jinx? Why doesn't anyone talk to her? Why does everyone hide everything from her? Why does she always end up alone? Orianna closes her eyes, and a slow, mechanical, creaking breath escapes her - machine-like, fried, exhausted. She feels she's faced with a mirror. She knows the feeling of being forgotten. Of being a friend, abandoned. Of being nobody.

Because you are nobody. No one cares if you're not a machine, if you're not an apocalypse.

Orianna's expression returns to neutral soon after, as she mulls it over. And she isn't sure what to say. How to say it. It's made worse when Saki speaks to her, tries to glean into Orianna's true intentions.

"My true intention... Is that I find myself tired. Tired of seeing friends burn themselves out. And especially tired of knowing that heroism is conditional on love. When the world ends, will your friends be too busy? Will we still be saved? Will we be important enough to save, to care about, to not be forgotten?"

The voice in her head, the machine, hisses at her. You're saying too much. But she doesn't care much. Orianna is honest even when she shouldn't be, unfiltered, with emotions she can't comprehend. A liar that cannot lie.

"My back is already turned, Miss Bird. It is why I am here. Outsiders find outsiders, abandon outsiders, forget outsiders, and die as outsiders. But... if I may say this..."

"I'm still here." Orianna lifts Xayah, her body creaking, and begins the long trek home. It's empty now. An empty place. Sona won't come home, and Janna won't meet her eyes. So it will be fine. And... You idiot. You don't even know when you are, so why are you assuming?

Because the Sona she knows would have leapt into her arms in an instant. And the Janna she remembers would have patted her head. And she would not be so alone. Perhaps, she's been saying it to herself. Perhaps it's been more to herself this whole time. She doesn't know. She isn't sure. Orianna sighs as her body creaks, fighting against the exertion as she carries Xayah, one step at a time. And she says it again, to Xayah, to Saki, to herself.

As   if   denying   her   words,   the   avian   did   not   let   go   of   her   grip.   Weak   as   it   might   be   in   account   of   the   loss   of   blood.   Orianna   may   be   there   for   now.   But   how   long?   Her   dazed   mind   crossed   between   her   old   team   and   her.   It   was   a   natural   association   that   she   made   with   Star   Guardians,   with   people   helping   her,   with   anyone   she   crossed.   The   only   person   she   had   was   herself   to   trust,   and   her   body   was   failing.   There   was   fear,   yes.   Fear.   But   a   certain   kind   of   sadness   that   stemmed   from   the   sheer   tragedy   of   such   a   thought.   Of   the   grief   and   pain   all   bundled   together   as   she   bled   out   in   a   stranger’s   arms.   Forgotten.   Left   behind.

She   twitched   in   pain.   Orianna’s   words   stung.   They   stung.   She   had   been   forgotten   already.   Too   busy   to   come   back.   What   was   once   born   out   of   love   and   companionship   had   turned   into   bitterness   and   hate.   All   the   love   that   was   was   now   rage,   and   all   she   could   do   was   directed   at   the   very   same   people   that   she   had   loved.   They   created   her,   a   being   made   of   rage   and   vengeance.   Zoe   exploits   it,   but   she   doesn’t   care.   There   was   little   to   care   about   these   days   other   than   giving   a   direction   to   that   endless   well   of   wrath.

Saki   curled   up   to   Xayah’s   chest,   nestling   on   it.   “   Still   here.   “   She   purred   to   Xayah,   echoing   what   Orianna   said   if   only   to   provide   Xayah   with   some   sort   of   comfort.   Her   answer   seemed   to   be   sufficient   for   now   for   the   companion.

Xayah’s   body   has   little   strength   to   aid   in   the   process   of   lifting   and   carrying,   as   her   consciousness   seems   to   be   bordering   on   the   line   of   barely   holding   on.   Her   arm   that   was   previously   clutching   dangles   from   her   side,   while   the   other   rests   on   her   own   body.   Uncertain   of   the   distance   and   now   that   the   battle   was   long   over,   her   mind   seemed   to   slip   into   darkness   somewhere   in   during   the   walk.

Saki   remained   attentive,   but   focused   on   Xayah.

“   You   are   not   one   of   them?   “   Saki   cooed.   “   Misty-eyed   babies?”   A   couple   head   tilts.   “You   speak   not   the   same.   No.   “   A   couple   of   blinks.   “You   are   not   like   her   either.”   Referring   to   Xayah.   Simply   observations   in   her   speech.   “Are   you   not   afraid   of   us?”   Her   small   frame   seems   to   hop   onto   the   embedded,   darkened   gem   of   Xayah.   “Her   claws   are   as   sharp   as   her   mouth.   You   know?”

　⊰ ⸻ ⊱　Caitlyn nodded her head, hearing the bitterness against her tongue. It was a similar sentiment the detective had as well, something she did not care for. For the woman, she only followed the laws that she believed to be right. A law was meant to protect people, but many of Piltover's laws only protected the nobility. So who better then to defy those laws the a noble herself who can get away with it to help protect those who can't? The only reason Caitlyn stayed in this place was because the people needed her, her love for Vi, and her father. If all came down to it, she would pack her bags if she didn't have a purpose here. Sett was settled into Ionia, and she knew if it ever came down to it, she could always go there. For now though, despite the corruption within the marble walls bleeding Caitlyn found happiness within the heart of the tiger and the love of her father.

"You did?" Caitlyn said, a little surprised. While she knew she had Vastaya blood within her, she didn't look like one. Unfortunately, she didn't present the same capabilities to know what wild magic felt like. the Vastaya of Piltover and Zaun had long since lost traces of physical representations of their breeds. Caitlyn wondered if she couldn't sense it because she's never been trained to. "It's not," Caitlyn bluntly said as she glanced at the people, some of those hard stares were as obvious as the sun in the sky. "If you do not fit into the pretty box called Piltovan Society, then you are singled out more often than not," Caitlyn said and then looked over to the bird. "Xayah, beautiful name," Her words were honest as she opened the door.

A small wave of emotion pressed against her chest, taking her by surprise as she took a breath. That anxiety that flowed from Xayah left her feeling a similar sense once before. "Yes, Though Caitlyn is just fine, let me make you some tea. I promise you can leave at any time, the door isn't locked," Fingers reached over toward her Ionian kettle, filled with already hot water as she set it down on the desk. "I wouldn't say it is respect," Her words left as she poured a cup full of water into a cup, setting the silver steel infuser filter into the tea and stirring it. "My status as one of the nobility allows me to do as I please, unfortunately so. The Enforcers can't touch me, even if they wish they could," fingers swirled the steel infuser til the sweet smell of spice Ionian tea was blended perfectly into the water. She set it down and passed over a white porcelain cup, lined in gold with cherry blossoms and the weaving flow of a white bird with long tail feathers for design. "There is milk and sugar if you like it,"

Caitlyn placed two sugar cubes in hers along with a dash of milk and stirred it up. "It's more fear I command, rather than respect. I do not care for the enforcers though, I have a bit of a habit of... interrupting their mission statement," The bemused look spread on her lips as she took a sip of her favorite tea.

“You   didn’t?”   Her   eyebrow   arched   up.   “I   see.  You can blame   that   on   your   human   side.”   A   small   huff   and   a   smile   crossed   her   lips   as   she   turned   to   her.   “It   flows   through   you.   Softer.   Diluted.   But   it   is   part   of   you.   Even   in   this   metal   jungle   we   can   sense   each   other.   Well.   I   could   sense   you.   Your   kin   have   a   particular…   Feeling   to   it.   All   of   us   do.”   Xayah   herself   wondered   if   it   was   an   ability   that   Caitlyn   might   have   access   to   and   just   never   tapped   into.   There   was   certainly   a   taught   aspect   to   discerning   it,   but   there   was   a   part   of   it   that   was…   Innate.

Xayah’s   gaze   briefly   met   Caitlyn’s   at   the   compliment   of   her   name,   momentarily   distracting   from   the   thought   process   she   had.   It   caused   a   quick,   ephemeral   sparkle   in   her   eyes.   Surprise   might   be   perhaps   a   good   word   to   describe   it.   As   ephemeral   as   it   was,   her   gaze   turned   to   her   path   in   front.   It   was   not   often   that   her   name   was   complimented,   but   she   relished   the   moments   when   it   was   acknowledged.   Perhaps   it   was   on   account   of   Caitlyn’s   detachment   from   the   pureblood   Vastaya   tribes,   or   even   more   so   the   lack   of   contact   with   her   tribe   in   particular.   The   meaning   of   her   name   was   somewhat   convoluted   amongst   other   tribes,   bearing   both   positive   and   negative   connotations.   She   had   learnt   to   appreciate   its   essential   contradiction   as   something   that   defined   her.   It   was   part   of   her   story,   her   ancestry,   her   essence.

“Caitlyn.”   She   repeated.   More   to   herself   than   anything.   Musing   her   name   and   acknowledging   the   unknown   richness   of   it.   It   was   foreign   in   her   tongue,   but   she   could   only   help   but   relate   it   to   her   own   experience.   Was   it   as   important   to   her   as   it   was   to   the   avian?   For   how   similar   they   could   be   in   first   glances,   there   was   still   a   fundamental   disconnection   between   the   two.   One   that   Xayah   both   despised   and   marveled   at.

After   taking   in   the   entirety   of   the   room   and   being   certain   of   at   least   three   escape   routes,   she   settled   her   eyes   back   on   its   owner,   who   seemed   to   be   keen   enough   to   provide   reassurance.   Had   it   slipped   her   iron   gaze   and   resting   bitch   face?   Had   it   shown   that   she   was   more   anxious   than   she   was   simply   calculative?   Her   eyes   narrowed   slightly,   but   she   dismissed   that   thought.   “Honestly,   I   was   just   about   ready   to   kick   their   ass.   It’s   commendable   how   you   deal   with   these   assholes   on   a   daily.   Human   nobility   sounds…   Exhausting.”   She   leaned   against   whatever   wall   was   closest   to   her,   opposite   to   the   other,   gaze   locked   onto   Caitlyn   as   she   prepared   the   tea.

Xayah   waited   until   the   other   took   the   first   sip   before   even   reaching   out   for   the   cup   with   her   free   hand.   Still   having   clutched   her   dagger   under   the   cloak   the   entire   time.   “No   need.”   Her   apprehension   to   add   any   sweeteners   was   much   akin   to   the   iron   gaze   she   had   tried   to   cast   before.   A   façade.   Part   of   her   wondered   at   how   much   better   the   taste   would   have   been   with   some   of   the   sugar   cubes   and   milk.   But   it   was   a   feeling   she   would   gulp   down   bitterly   with   her   drink.    She   gave   a   long   sigh   of   relief   and   allowed   her   shoulders   to   unstiffen,   making   the   dagger   disappear   back   into   her   mantle.   If   she   hadn’t   poisoned   her   by   now,   it   was   unlikely   that   harm   would   come.   Caitlyn   had   had   plenty   of   opportunities   now.

“I   can   understand   that   much-   Fear   works   when   people   are   too   dumb,   evil   or   stubborn   to   cooperate   with   a   good   cause.   I,   for   one,   am   all   for   disrupting   a   corrupt,   twisted   system.”   She   shrugged   her   shoulders,   letting   out   a   huff   and   a   smirk,   taking   one   more   sip   and   allowing   the   natural   taste   of   the   tea   course   in.   Giving   off   a   little   twitch   of   her   lip   and   instead   inspecting   the   cup   more   closely.   Ionian,   most   certainly.   For   as   much   as   she   hated   the   general   disposition   of   humans   towards   magic   and   her   people,   there   was   a   certain   part   of   her   that   marveled   at   pieces   of   art   such   as   these   in   their   common   lives.   A   sort   of   luxury,   she   thought.   Unneccesary   but…   Pleasing.   She   set   it   down   on   the   desk   half-full   after   deciding   the   taste   was   not   to   her   liking.

“Thanks.   For   the   tea.   “   She   muttered   before   clearing   her   throat,   approaching   slightly   closer.   Cautiously,   but   closer.   “I   suppose   it’s   as   good   a   moment   as   any   to   explain   why   I   am   here.”   Xayah   began   as   she   proceeded   to   pull   back   her   hood,   revealing   the   entirety   of   her   head   to   the   other,   where   more   clear   connection   of   her   Vastaya   features   were   to   her   head   and   hair.   Bright   streaks   of   reds   and   well-preened   feathers   with   sets   of   piercings   with   carved   gold   and   beads   were   now   more   visible.

“I   have…   Good   reason   to   believe   there   are   stolen   devices   from   vastayan   origins.   Ancient   talismans   that   circulate   with   blood   smeared   on   them.”   She   paused.   “Initially   I   was   here   simply   to   retrieve   them.   Look   for   some   culprits,   see   where   these   were   coming   from   and   for   what   purpose.   They   are   magic   in   nature,   you   see?   As   if   our   magic   is   not   being   taken   from   us   enough.”   She   scoffed.   “But   entering   this   city…   It   was   more   than   I   expected.   There   is   a   weird   magic   circulating.   Sifting   in   the   air.   Contained.   Deeply   powerful,   but   spread   throughout   the   city.   In   the   hands   of   humans,   I   can   only   sense   danger   in   that.”   Her   eyebrow   curled   into   a   frown,   her   arms   crossing   in   response   to   her   thoughts.

“It   all   gives   me   a   bad   feeling.”

She   rummaged   under   her   cloak   and   pulled   some   bits   and   pieces   of   metal,   scraped   off   of   the   device   that   she   had   initially   attempted   to   tear   apart.   They   had   some   runic   inscriptions   in   them,   but   she   could   not   get   to   the   source   of   the   magic   itself.   She   put   some   scraps   on   the   desk.   “This   is   why   they   were   so   mad   at   me.   I   was…   Investigating.”

But the names do not reach her thoughts. They are but seafoam in her mind, and when she grasps for who might help, there is no one. No one she can remember. They have all gone away, and she has gone away as well. There is only her.

Only her and this bird woman, with her claws and her talons and her feathers and her so many sharp things. A monster just like you. Better than me, Ori thinks, though her expression does not shift. It rarely does. Her thoughts are churning, always, always, always, but only the faintest hint reaches her eyes, her voice, her being.

You're more dead than she is. At least, inside. Ori doesn't put much thought to that, ignoring the unpleasant mechanical whisper in her head as her eyes track the daggers thrown her way, and the snarling scowl. Ori does not flinch, she does not even move, and she knows that gives her away as a 'less than' and a 'more than' she appears. She has not prepared for a masquerade, and so she reacts without any reaction at all, the most damning thing she could do.

You see? Now she knows, and she will despise you, threaten you, chase you away. She will see you as a -

 "    Do    it    .    "

You talk to much, she thinks to herself. She sits, calmly, and inspects the wounds one at a time. Arm. Side. Legs. Face. Bruising. First the side...

"This may sting." Ori's hands are firm as she grabs the antiseptic, the gauze, and so on. She has little in the way of healing, and so there will be scarring. Stitches perhaps. Hmm. She cleans the wound on the side first, wrapping it firmly over Xayah's outfit. It wasn't great work, but if she took off Xayah's top, she'd probably be stabbed. Troubling.

Seas   of   distant   memories   flooded   the   avian’s   vision   ,   blurred   and   hazy   ⸻   only   the   sting   of   a   sharp   pain   against   her   wounds   brought   her   back   to   sheepishly   clutch   at   any   fabric   she   could   find   on   the   other’s   form   .   Perhaps   as   her   only   means   to   exert   some   sort   of   vague   threat   ,   but   moreso   as   a   means   to   get   her   to   stay   .   Ahri   flashed   before   her   eyes   ,   turning   her   back   on   her   ,   and   she   clutched   harder   .  

Don’t   go   .

Don’t   leave   .

Don’t   you   see   I’m   hurt   ?

I’m   still   aliv   ⸻

The   sting   of   touch   on   open   flesh   pulled   her   out   from   her   mind   to   look   at   the   face   now   familiar   of   the   stranger   who   had   decided   to   help   her   out   .   Her   heartbeat   was   quickening   ,   breath   unsteady   .   “   No.   “   she   muttered   ,   then   repeated   louder   .   “   No   hospital   .   They   would   all   rather   have   me   dead   and   mauled   than   help   .   “   She   allowed   her   head   to   rest   back   on   the   tree   trunk   ,   a   bit   stronger   than   she   had   intended   .

A   small   gust   of   dark   purple   energy   manifested   beside   them   ,   with   a   small   hooting   familiar   to   owls   .   Xayah’s   companion   fluttered   close   to   the   two   figures   ,   resting   on   Xayah’s   lap   ,   and   staring   directly   at   Orianna    for   a   second   ,   and   tilting   its   head   slightly   .   Saki   began   to   speak   in   what   ,   to   regular   beings   not   connected   to   the   first   star   ,   would   be   complete   gibberish   .  

“   She   is   one   of   them   .   “   A   statement   ,   a   tilt   of   the   head   further   and   a   small   hoot   again   .   “   Misty-eyed   babies   .   “   The   statement   seemed   to   miss   Xayah’s   ears   ,   although   it   might   have   been   more   accurate   to   say   that   she   had   little   brain   power   to   actually   give   a   shit   .   “   And   you   are   helping?   “   Saki   hopped   closer   to   Orianna   .   “   Why?   What   do   you   want   from   us?   “   Her   eyes   narrowed   .  

Xayah   groaned   ,   to   which   her   companion   reacted   to   by   dropping   her   attention   on   the   stranger   and   instead   curling   up   to   the   fallen   guardian   .   A   faint   glow   of   purple   being   poured   onto   her   body   that   seemed   to   soothe   and   relax   the   avian’s   muscles   a   slight   bit   .  

“   Will   you   turn   your   back   ,   too   ?   “   Saki   quietly   whispered   .  

“   Shut   up   ,   Saki   .   “   Xayah   replied   .   "   Shut   up   .   " 

he stood tall amidst the tumult of his domain, his posture radiating naught but confidence and power ⸻ his limbs were crossed over the expanse of his chest, each movement done with purpose, as if he was the puppeteer behind the chaos around him and, with the mere flick of his digits, he could cease to exist its immensity. his aurete spheres ( sharp and discerning ) were, however, following her every twitch and quiver, absorbing the subtle nuances of her demeanour with keen interest.

A   fight   without   a   plan   or   examination   might   as   well   be   a   lost   one   ,   but   a   good   plan   required   a   fair   amount   of   risk   .   The   risk   was   right   in   front   of   her   ,   standing   tall   as   a   giant   of   muscle   and   mass   towering   over   her   .   It   had   been   a   pain   in   the   ass   to   get   into   the   pits   in   the   first   place   ,   she   was   not   about   to   throw   down   her   shot   at   getting   her   revenge   on   one   of   the   humans   in   here   .   Yet   still   .   .   .   His   quiet   threat   was   very   much   understood   .   Her   left   eye   twitched   in   annoyance   ,   golden   hues   carefully   inspecting   his   form   .   A   part   of   her   appreciated   the   physique   of   a   warrior   ,   the   amount   of   time   and   effort   it   required   to   be   a   seasoned   fighter   showing   without   words   or   actions   .   The   aura   he   emanated   was   enough   to   tell   her   that   he   meant   every   word   he   said   .

And   yet   still   ,   so   did   she   .   While   her   strength   relied   less   on   physical   power   and   more   on   speed   and   precision   ,   she   was   still   much   of   a   seasoned   fighter   ,   and   even   more   of   an   experienced   killer   .   Her   blood   boiled   from   a   rough   day   ,   and   if   she   were   to   be   honest   ,   some   of   her   precautions   had   been   thrown   out   the   window   the   moment   she   stepped   into   the   pit   with   a   hot   head   .   Her   fists   ached   to   connect   to   something   .   She   was   not   one   to   decline   an   invitation   to   dance   .

Her   eyes   narrowed   ,   ears   perking   behind   her   head   as   she   stared   him   down   .   A   silent   duel   that   she   gladly   took   .   Under   her   cape   of   feathers   she   summoned   two   daggers   between   her   digits   in   case   a   fight   did   break   down   ,   although   she   knew   it   would   be   at   a   disadvantage   .   Her   head   tilted   closer   to   his   ,   as   much   as   she   could   with   her   talons   stretching   up   .

“   If   trouble’s   your   game   here   ,   “   She   hissed   ,   “   I’ll   gladly   give   you   trouble   alright   .   “   Her   fangs   showed   .   “   One   name   .   Elochein   .   Show   me   where   she   is   .   I   will   go   about   my   business   and   we   both   save   ourselves   a   headache   .   "

Flu.

Stop waxing poetic and just kill her! The woman looks down at the bird before her. She steps closer, then closer still, one step, two steps, until she's within stabbing range.

"Why four pieces? One would be sufficient to end my life." She lifts her neck, revealing the lack of protective gear. It is only in the pauldrons that look like hands grabbing her shoulders, tight around her as if to hold Ori in place, that there is a hint that she is more than an overly concerned traveler.

"You may make attempts upon my life once you are well enough to do so," she states, as she crouches before the wounded bird. She ignores the screaming voice in her head that tells her that if she wishes to die so quickly, she should end it faster and resign herself to a proper fate. Orianna Reveck is not a quitter.

And she is not a woman who leaves the injured, downtrodden, or in need behind either. Even if they will stab her with knives or take all that is hers later. Naive? No. She is not naive or innocent. She is aware of the consequences. And what does that make you, who doesn't care? Ori tilts her head again as she reaches into her pack and pulls out a first aid kit, sliding it forward.

"Will you permit my help, Miss?" If Xayah will put down her pride long enough to be helped, then Ori will help. If not, she will watch the bird woman dress her own wounds, and ensure Xayah is not disturbed. After all, the night is dark and full of terrors. Very few are as kind as her.

She finds herself laughing suddenly, her stoic nature and deadpan tone of voice melting away for a few moments. It's just all so silly. This whole situation. Arguing with a voice in her head, and how poetic that makes her. This woman before her, this guardian - perhaps as alone as she is. Villains before heroes, heroes before villains. At least this woman, Xayah, ought to live. At least her.

The    blood    dripped    steadily    as    they    observed    each    other    .    A    small    back    and    forth    on    whether    one    ought    to    trust    the    other    .    Although    the    avian    was    hardly    in    any    condition    to    bring    a    fight    back    .    The    main    wounds    were    slashes    to    her    left    arm    and    side    .    Big    ,    pulsing    wounds    of    open    flesh    that    dripped    blood    over    the    remains    of    her    darker    costume    .    They    trailed    down    her    skin    ,    dropping    and    merging    with    the    earth    beneath    .    The    more    minor    ones    included    a    set    of    scratches    to    her    legs    and    left    side    of    her    face    ,    and    the    non-visible    bruises    under    whatever    remained    of    her    scratched    clothes    on    her    back    .

The    Vastaya's    eyes    narrowed    at    the    sight    ,    a    groan    of    both    unamusement    and    pain    .    She    was    in    no    mood    to    be    having    to    explain    herself⸻    and    more    importantly    .    .    .    This    was    no    ordinary    person    .    Pauldrons    as    such    .    .    .    Were    not    quite    so    much    as    common    in    people    .    Right    ?    Her    vision    blurred    with    every    few    breaths    ,    her    right    arm    givng    the    slightest    hint    of    a    tremble    as    the    feather    daggers    were    pointed    in    the    stranger's    direction    .    Shit    .    She    spat    blood    on    the    other's    direction    as    a    response    to    what    seemed    to    her    as    a    condescending    tone    to    her    threat    .

Her    talons    scraped    back    against    the    soil    ,    pushing    her    already    scratched    back    further    into    the    tree    trunk    behind    as    a    response    to    the    other    crouching    before    her    .    Her    golden    hues    desperately    attempting    to    figure    it    out    .    To    sort    this    out    .    Not    one    soul    in    this    wretched    planet    does    things    selflessly    ,    and    for    someone    who    had    already    died    ,    already    been    betrayed    ,    left    alone    .    .    .    There    was    hardly    anything    else    to    offer    .    Hardly    anything    but    rage    .    Anything    but    the    pure    seething    flame    of    watching    the    world    burn    .    No    ,    a    kind    offering    from    a    stranger    was    not    something    that    fit    in    her    vocabulary    .

Naturally    ,    there    was    hesitation    .

A    few    seconds    turned    into    a    few    minutes,    and    a    look    of    pure    venom    was    shot    at    the    stranger    .    Helpless    .    Again    .    Again    .    Xayah's    breath    shook    ,    deepened    ,    and    heaved    .    The    talons    would    scrape    against    the    earth    beneath    ,    tainted    with    her    blood    .    She    gulped    ,    sweat    dripping    from    her    head    .    Her    eyes    seemed    to    have    been    lost    in    the    distance    behind    Orianna    .    Beyond    her    .    And    for    a    brief    moment⸻    A    scent    .    Her    eyes    shot    a    venomous    look    .

Ahri    .

Her    fangs    bared    .    Her    eyes    closed    .    She    hardly    had    the    concentration    to    ,    but    she    was    lucid    enough    to    know    it    was    a    trick    of    her    mind    .    She    had    left    her    .    She    was    not    here    ,    the    fox    would    never    be    here    .    Not    in    a    moment    like    this    .    Especially    not    in    a    moment    like    this    .    With    every    last    bit    of    strength    ,    a    swing    of    her    hand    had    the    daggers    flying    straight    for    Orianna's    neck.    Until    the    last    moment    ,    that    is    ,    when    they    magically    seemed    to    have    curved    their    path    and    instead    dug    into    the    soil    behind    the    stranger    .    

She    opened    one    of    her    eyes    only    to    see    the    woman    laugh    and    stop    abruptly    .    '    Broken    '    is    what    her    mind    replied    ,    but    did    not    escape    her    lips    .    There    was    something    offputting    about    her    .

"    One    .    .    .    "    She    paused    for    a    second    ,    then    resumed    ,    "    One    wrong    move    ,    and    those    daggers    behind    you    pierce    you    through    your    chest    .    "    She    groaned    ,    her    hand    finally    settling    to    her    side    in    exhaustion    .    She    turned    her    head    to    the    side    ,    if    only    to    hide    her    unsteady    breath    ,    if    only    to    close    her    eyes    and    let    whatever    this    was    happen    without    the    embarrassment    of    acknowledging    it    .    "    Do    it    .    "

Angry Xayah on your tl ~