Unforgotten

OSAII   |   private   ,   selective   rp   blog   for   YONE   ,   THE   UNFORGOTTEN   from   league   of   legends.          penned   by   askling.

@hasakii  sent  ; 🎀  -  to  braid  /  brush  your  muse’s  hair  .

𝐈𝐅  𝐇𝐄  𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐒  𝐇𝐈𝐒  𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒,  he  could  almost  convince  himself  of  an  all  encompassing  serenity  ;  like  none  of  the  many  weights  of  the  world  were  even  present.  

usually,  it  would  be  the  opposite.  how  many  times  had  he  practically  hunted  his  little  brother  down  to  brush  his  unruly  hair  even  a  little  bit?  too  many  times  to  count.  his  own  never  reached  even  remotely  close  to  such  a  wild  appearance,  though  these  days  his  mindfulness  of  his  visage  only  could  go  so  far.  long  black  hair  surely  bore  knots  amidst  its  length,  though  every  stroke  of  brush  encouraged  it  to  settle  into  its  natural  silk.

The vastaya must always be on alert when dealing with spirits and demons, and those who walk with them. Magic is a flowing thing, easily muddied and corrupted if the user couldn’t be careful with it. She has scented spirits about this man, so to speak, and things like that put her on high alert. Still, she gingerly lifts a hand away from her own blade, tucked under the feathers of her cloak.

     Best not to pick fights with things from the other side of the veil unless you have to, anyways.

      ❝ sure you could, ❞ She huffs, head tilted slightly to one side, ❝ —depending on what you wanna know, i might even answer. ❞

𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇  𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓  𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃  or  expression,  relief  shows  in  the  way  his  shoulders  relax,  clawed  digits  falling  away  from  sword  hilts  gladly.  he'd  almost  be  tempted  to  smile  by  her  response  —  a  retort  unlike  those  he'd  ever  receive  in  what  little  he  spoke  with  his  quarry.  while  rudeness  in  great  quantity  did  agitate  him,  there  was  something  more  amusing  in  the  delivery  of  this.  besides,  she  had  every  reason  to  be  testy  with  him.  

@bilgequeen  sent  ; 🤕  -  to  dress  yone’s  wound  .

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓  𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄,  even  still  part  of  him  wishes  to  withdraw.  it  doesn't  show,  perhaps  one  of  the  occasions  to  be  grateful  for  the  disconnect  between  expression  &  mind.  bandages  soiled  from  ichor  discarded,  leaving  the  pale  skin  beneath  in  its  canvas  of  bruises  &  marks  bare  ;  wounds  that  surely  should  have  been  grievous  &&  would  have  to  any  other.

    the  extent  of  it  repulses  some  part  of  him,  &&  so  it  is  all  the  more  disconcerting  that  she  seems  to  pay  it  no  disgust,  no  mind.  it  did  all  the  same  offer  some  minor  comfort  ;  a  gentle  sort  of  repose  from  predicted  thought.  words  struggle  to  surface,  picking  through  what  danced  on  tongue  &&  swallowing  most  -  dreading  to  come  off  as  ungrateful  or  otherwise  unappreciative  when  this,  for  as  perhaps  unassuming  as  this  action  was  it  meant  more  than  he  could  dare  to  articulate.

      ❝  thank  you,  ❞  is  what  he  musters,  spoken  in  soft  &&  tired  tone  —  almost  sweet  in  gentle  delivery.  while  the  action  itself  was  worth  thanking,  it  isn't  wholly  what  he's  expressing  gratitude  for.

@skydarkin  liked  for  a  starter.

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄  𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑  ought  to  pump  through  veins,  he  instead  is,  if  anything,  burned  by  pure  loathing.  it  was  near  overwhelming  to  contain,  to  carefully  level  his  stare.  if  fought,  it  would  surely  end  in  his  own  demise  ;  but  was  that  truly  something  to  be  afraid  of  ?

      ❝  i  am  not  a  fiend  that  seeks  to  flock  to  you.  ❞  despite  how  even  his  tone  is,  how  carefully  held  together  his  body  language  is,  the  vibrancy  of  his  emotion  ribbons  around  him  in  one  side  of  his  vision,  an  enticing  red  that  surely  made  his  own  demon  stir  &&  drops  of  rain  are  more  than  enough  to  tell  him  his  temper  is  barely  contained  ;  &&  yet  none  of  it  is  comparable  to  the  blinding  color  that  is  this  creature.  

@yunalai  liked  for  a  starter.

@feathercall  liked  for  a  starter.

❝  I'M  NOT  the  enemy  i  may  appear  to  be.  ❞

though  his  expression  is  unchanging,  the  weariness  is  surely  unmistakeable  in  his  tone,  his  hands  only  gingerly  ghosting  over  sword  hilts  —  unwilling  to  unsheathe  them  unless  necessary.  he  thinks  to  merely  insist  on  passing  by,  but  a  brief  impulse  instead  forms  different  thought.

@bilgequeen  liked  for  a  starter.

    𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘  𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄  turns  to  her,  blinking  mismatched  eyes  as  his  thoughts  come  to  a  pause.  it  is  no  surprise  nor  much  of  a  secret  he  feels  &&  is  out  of  place  here,  but  for  what  it  was  worth  he  retained  most  of  his  serenity  ;  largely  to  spare  this  place  the  storm  clouds  that  he  otherwise  might  herald.

yasuo had the opportunity to learn from an elder who understood wind techniques where yone never had that luxury. (part of that is what frustrated yone so much because yasuo’s flippant attitude to him was almost unfair because if he was in yasuos shoes he’d be particularly grateful)

instead of bothering with it or trying to learn by himself he very neatly did the only thing he could think of doing ; which was detachment && creating a constant illusion of calm. and to his credit, it worked well enough

his whole life he has been unnervingly calm. even when he went to fight during the Noxian Invasion ; there was only small cracks in his disposition. those cracks manifested in dull rains.

all of that resolve amounted to nothing though when he came home and literally everything had apparently hit the fan. the night he died was the most emotion yone let through and he was fucking DISTRAUGHT. really it was a matter of time before his illusion shattered, quite literally the perpetual calm before the storm but oh of all the nights for it to happen it would be that one wouldn’t it? 

when they fought it was an absolute anomaly of weather between how furious the storm was && the winds that came with it 

@essence-flux-primed  says; 'Tits  out  kinda  guy,  huh?  I  like  it.'  And  Ezreal  proceeds  to  take  his  shirt  off.

𝐁𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃  doesn't  even  begin  to  describe  the  poor  man's  expression.  ❝  that's  not  —  –  ❞  &&  then  ezreal's  shirt  is  off  &  he  tiredly  puts  a  hand  over  his  eyes  for  a  brief  moment,  dragging  down  slowly  as  his  head  shakes.