Royle Tea

send one ( or more ) in to learn all about… 

scars:  how many scars does my muse have? where are they located on my muse’s body? how did they get them? what do they look like? 

sleep: how many hours a night does my muse sleep? do they take naps? how restful is their sleep? do they experience nightmare? if so, how often? 

meals: how many meals does my muse eat a day? what do they generally consist of? 

routine: does my muse have a consistent routine in their lives? do they find it difficult to stick to a routine? 

chronic: does my muse have any chronic health conditions / illnesses? how do these affect them from day-to-day? 

doctor: how often does my muse visit the doctor? do they tend to go routinely, or only when something is wrong? 

relaxation: what does my muse do to relax? do they find it easy to carve out time to relax? 

aches: does my muse have any frequent aches? ie, muscle aches, joint aches? how do these affect them from day-to-day? 

stress: does my muse handle stress well? what is a surefire sign for others to tell that they’ve become stressed? how does stress affect them mentally / physically? 

Adjust wording as necessary. Picked up from the internet of 'how to ragebait men' posts, but adjusted to try and apply to anyone.

“Captain Rhakur, we’re to make landfall soon!”

“Breathe Shou.”

Everything hurt, like his blood was trying to boil him from the inside out. It felt impossible to speak, even make a sound through a throat that felt like it was being cinched off by a golem’s grip. Maybe if he could claw out his eyes there would be some relief from the shooting pain stemming from them. Not even clenched shut was the pain abated.

“Breathe.” The voice was stern, his Grandmother’s. How often had she told him that? When he wanted to rush ahead in training, trying to pour her tea, even when meeting someone new. The youngest Ametersu knew where she was, no doubt standing just a few feet away, keeping his parents at bay with her patented glares. “Breathe and focus. Do not let this power overwhelm you. It is your tool, yours to wield.”

The boy’s shoulders heaved, body bent over to the point his forehead brushed the ground. Breathe?! What was she saying, it was all he could do to keep from screaming! Strangled noises struggled to come from his wracked body as he continued to convulse. He was going to die!

“Breathe, even if you have to scream.”

Those few words, that affirmation locked in that thought for him. Scream. Through the pain, his voice was strangled at first before growing, louder and louder. But as the screams began to zenith in volume and slowly peter out, the convulsions slowed. The boy’s body was forced to relax, if not from pure exhaustion. Eyes that had been screwed shut slowly opened to a sharpened view, whips coming off the figures of his family. 

His breathing had calmed enough, heavy pants but calmer than before. Slowly he looked up, meeting the approving smile of the clan head. “Congratulations, Shou. Your first test of Ascension is finished.”

Shou gave a weak smile before falling to his side, exhaustion taking him into an empty sleep.

~~~~

Slow, steady breaths. The familiar pulse from his chest rippled through his body, the tell tale signs of his power rising to the surface. It was a gradual sensation, like warm water expanding out to fill a tub. No matter how many times he did this, the sensation always made Shou restless but that was the point behind the exercise.

The activation of one’s Ascension powers usually meant heightened levels of physical ability, a feeling that would need to be honed over time. Along with the physical increase, other abilities would manifest over time - not that Shou was aware of them yet. He had prioritized his swordsmanship over the mental training that came with his new powers. Moving his body came naturally, sitting still was another thing; and without the rest of the clan to help him, he naturally fell back on old habits.

It had been three months since the nearly thirty strong members of the Ascended clan took to defense of Ionia from the invading forces. Three agonizing months of no word back from his family. The worry and anxiety built up to the point where the only alleviation from it was the very training he detested.

Through the stillness from without, Shou found some solace with the slow breathing, the expanding of his power. While not a full fix, he was given some reprieve from the dark questions that were beginning to build.

But that inner peace wouldn’t last for much longer, and no amount of breathing training would be able to calm him.

~~~~

Short quick breaths. They’re scared.

Good.

The heavy foliage in Ionia had been difficult for many of the Noxian troops to travel through, leaving them often weary from having to navigate through the verdant life. But what gave them trouble just added more power to their stalker. 

This specific regiment had been in battle after battle, their numbers whittled down by the constant fighting. A perfect prey for this fighter with no name. He crouched low in the dense forest, golden eyes trailing the armored group. Various animal noises had put them on edge, their paranoia working wonders in the night. 

“Focus up!” The man in the lead, the acting captain, called out, doing his best to keep his few men calm but the tremble in his voice betrayed him. “It’s just us out here!” His rally calls were met with another noise in the brush, drawing more panicked words. “Enough! Calm down and breat-”

The order turned into a pained gurgle and a dull thud, the only noise to make his men go silent. To their combined horror, something crouched low over their fallen leader’s body, holding a broken blade stained red just inches from the fatal wound. But the sight of such a brutal death wasn’t the most ominous thing in their sight, the baleful gold eyes starting at them through the darkness was what shook them to the core.

At this point, the fear and paranoia overtook the haggard soldiers. Some moved to attack the figure, others moved to flee, but one stood rooted, unable to move as he watched his comrades fall one by one, their own weapons used to kill them in succession. His legs fell out from under him, falling back into a pool of his comrade’s blood, though unable to scream - or rather, not given any time to. A blade found his neck without mercy, one last gurgled rattle of a breath escaping his lips.

The figure stood over the corpses, another weapon discarded at their feet. The gold in his eyes faded slowly, the nameless man giving one last look at the carnage he made before pressing on. There were so many more invaders in his home, suffocating the land with the blood of his countrymen, with his family.

He wouldn’t be able to breathe properly again until he made sure they were gone.

It was his duty as the last of his clan.

~~~~

“Breathe,” Kengou muttered to himself, looking up the steps to the monastery. Were they always this imposing? Last he saw them was when he was a child, no when Shou was a child. This was the first time Kengou found himself staring up at them. 

His side flared up with a sudden pain, drawing a sharp inhale. The wound had closed weeks ago, scarring over as a reminder - but the pain was still there. At the height of his fight was when he fell the hardest, humbled and forced to see where his rage took him. How much blood was on his hands, calloused palms covered for the sake of his revenge?

‘Too much to use my swords.’ The last gift from his father, twin blades of a nearly black steel forged when he gained his powers, back when Shou was still destined to join the very monastery he stood before. Now instead of resting at his hip, prepared for use, they were carefully wrapped and set along his back with his few belongings. If any were to help him hold them again, it was the one he was supposed to learn from all this time.

“Here we go.”

With one last, deep breath, Kengou Ametersu began the long walk up to the Kinkou monastery, ready to reclaim what he had lost those years ago.