Multiverse

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Like if you read the carrd.

CARRD

Going to be doing a full revamp of this mumu. If you want to rp with me in the meantime, @furinasopera is set up properly since I finally figured out how I wanted to format my text and other stuff.

There was too much things Briar could do with her newfound freedom that she felt a little lost. The rocks were so different than the concrete that she grown used to stepping on—it felt good though, grounding even.

Climbing what few trees there were was also very fun when she had the opportunity. Sometimes catching a bird here or there to eat, mainly raw because she had no idea how to actually cook anything. During the day, she would often fall asleep under the shade of the tree and get stuck awake most of the night.

She didn't mind being alone—hunger made it hard to think clearly sometimes. She felt like she would blackout and her head would hurt when she came to. Sometimes her bloodthirsty was manageable, other times it would feel like it was ripping into her skin.

Briar wondered if what she felt was truly hurt—she wasn't certain what she felt, but yet again, had anyone asked her such a question? She wasn't even certain how she wanted to answer because she didn't expect anyone to find her. She left for a reason and she was tired of being chained down. She instinctively pulled away from the show of affection, almost as if she expected to be lashed by a hidden whip. Her eyes fixated on the strangely soft woman that she barely realized that the Matron asked another question.

"They—hurt me." She found it hard to keep her eyes on the stranger, mainly out of fear that there would be repercussions for her speaking. It was the first time she actually admitted that she was exactly that... Hurt. Not bodily—not anymore, but inside.

It was the first time that blood had stained those relics, coated in blood after blood. Noxians. Noxians were trying to take her land and people and she had to do such terrible things to keep them safe. She didn't wish to do anything of the sort. She was a dancer—she didn't wish to be a fighter, but people needed her to be and so she did.

People failed to see the dance beneath her blades and soon enough, she was not dancing without those blades. She thought it would end when she cut Swain's arm off that day—that she could return to being the dancer she wished to be, but it wasn't an option.

"Lucky." Irelia said such words with unbridled disdain. The sarcasm was lost on her as anger took the words for their literal meaning.

Vladimir to LeBlanc

Emilia smirked widely.

"What made you think that, dear?" That coy smile on her face said it all. LeBlanc did everything for a reason—evidently that would be a plausible answer.

For LeBlanc

For LeBlanc

LeBlanc is terrified of love. Throughout her two lives—she's learnt that love is something that she can't afford to give into. No matter what, she can't accept that she feels it anymore because of all that she has lost due to love.