#*v. main

@esreal. / 🫂

zeri does not leave zaun, can count on one hand the numbers of time she's even been to piltover . maybe two, now : the fresh air hits her lungs in way that almost makes her want to cough, & were she not so busy looking over her shoulder ( she can feel the eyes ), on replying to ezreal, then she might have nothing better to do than just that . crisp in an intrusive way . it's sort of boring up here, too . lots of stuff going on, lots in motion, but it's just that. stuff, things . she can't really see it's purpose . most interesting thing, probably, is her company who yaps, gestures here and there, seemingly has a story for every — and she hadn't thought piltover had them, really — dark alley and sharp corner. humor finds her, even, and settles in next to the clean air, helps it sit a little easier. bright despite any discomfort, unabashedly above one-to-one conversation volume level, ❛ you're sorta wild, ezreal! i'll give ya' that much. ❜

@j1hnxed / heavenly light .

her brows furrow deeply.   do they?  in flashes she catches it, lurking just on the edge of her vision, usually . but lately, it’s as though it’s become bold : front & center & attempting to command a focus that zeri simply does not give it .  would it speak if she let go of control, if she slowed down and confronted it?  she doesn’t really want to know, doesn’t think she would care for what it had to say. gets the feeling it wouldn’t be any good the way with it’s gaze pierces even through the static.

when it makes an appearance on restless nights, when she’s not sure if she’s sleeping still or wide awake, it does not say anything either. it sees , the only sound an ever present buzzing which echoes back distantly - frequency all wrong - even despite it being so close. maybe it is trying to speak — ?   whatever.  it’s not super important because  jinx is talking about something different,  she figures, and rather than dwell on what follows, she is focused forwards, outside of herself.  

@gettnup / ⚡.

want  has  always  been a  driving  force  between  them.   he’s  always  been so  honest  about  it;   join  us.   help  us.   stay  with  us.   maybe  somewhere  between  the  grief  &  persistence.    or  maybe  between  his  shirt  coming  off  and  her  gloves?   probably  that. they're derailed, have been awhile, with  her  hand  trailing  exposed  skin,   fingers  leaving  static  wherever  they  pass.   sparks  catch,  but  she’s  been  assured  time &  again  —  it’s  fine.   he’ll  be  fine.  between  her  pack  and  his  drive,   zeri's  felt safe  enough  to  feel.    she  is  a  busy,   buzzing  thing;   can’t  settle  her  lips  any  one  place  for  long.    they’ll  find  his  lips,   bruising  and  hungry,   until  she’s  breathless,   and  then  she’ll  drift,  pressing  kisses  along  his  jaw  until  she  finds  his  neck. 

zeri  likes  when  he  can  speak,   stays  in  the  space  between  his  neck  and  shoulder  a  lot.   there’s  a  noise  so  loud  in  her  ears  that  she  misses  a  lot  of  what  he  says.   it  doesn’t  matter:   she  can  feel  the  way  it’s  pressed  against  her  temple,   catches  what’s  important.    when  did  us  turn  to  i?   huffs  a  laugh  out  against  his  skin,   presses  lips  there  to  soothe  away  the  crack  of  lightning  that  caught  a  ride  on  it.  always  honest,  see  —  nobody  could  mistake  it  for  anything  but  were  they  to  feel  what  she  does:  his  pulse  so  fast  it  almost  rivals  her  natural  one? he  wants  her.  keeps  circling  back  to  it  in  her  mind  as  his  hands  roam,   takes  kisses  that  had  been  focused  solely  forward  before  and  turns  them  to  lazy,  lingering  things  against  the  front  of  his  shoulder.  her  brow  furrows  in  thought,  and  like  that,  path  has  changed.  she’s  full  up  —  on  sparks,  her  own  heat  and  his.  something has to give, and zeri  can  hardly  stop  once  she’s  started. it's like  a  storm  breaking,     ‘   ya  already  have  me.  i mean  —  ’    he's a comforting weight, grounds her between his body and table scattered with half-finished inventions. a rumbling of words, quick,   ‘   like,   really  have  me, ekko.  we're  together — stuck with me, stuck with you, that sorta thing — and we're also super behind. '

@gnpwder / dialogue.

confuses zeri to her core, so much so that she cannot stop the, ❛ huh? ❜ that escapes. it had felt needed. so soon as she'd heard familiar sounds of violence, she'd been drawn in. one shot. another. a heavy thump. zeri would have rounded that corner for anybody. doesn't think it matters that when she'd caught blue in the midst that green had licked so sharply at her heels that it burned. it's nothing & everything : simple for her to turn gun on those who would harm, all-consuming to protect. the rhythmic burst of her rifle joining cacophony so soon as she'd announced her presence with a booming 'you should start running'. had hoped it would be enough, as it usually is, to draw their ire off other's and onto herself. not quite. but jinx is a good shot! momentary distraction had been all it took. but man, they really wanted her dead. zeri can't imagine feeling that way, sickens her to even try understanding. waste of time to even ask, wouldn't change her mind, & it was way more worthwhile to fire a final zap into straggler who thought she was seriously offering when she'd said to flee.

in the light sparking and dissipating smoke, zeri feels she's done the right thing. maybe it would have been handled. but who would she be were she not quick to the action? how would jinx had faired, in the end? — no. it was good she was here. clouds which had left her confused initially clear with a shake of her head, ❛ i wanted to. ❜ easy as that. a casual shrug, dismissive of further argument as green takes in — both parties now still enough to — assailant. not one she readily recognizes. maybe some sort of new would-be chembaron. another one cropping up. beyond redemption, she thinks. they chose the old ways: feed on the weak, all they have, expect them to still have the strength to build in your honor.

@gntlets / :)

they used to have people who would uplift them : boy savior and that large man . never caught his name, but she hasn't seen him lately. hasn't seen ekko either, to be fair. she's seen plenty of what's left behind though . bloodied fists, the black that mars their owner as she stumbles through back alleys. those in zaun who would prey on the perceived weakness. she thinks that ekko would have wanted her to help. they were friends, once. & whether they were still when he vanished doesn't matter : it's still the right thing to do . vi is one of them.

it's habitual, now, to check the space between pits & metal stairway for her when out on late runs, when firelights have gone dormant for the day . how many times has it been, then, that she's approached slumped figure, sparks licking at heels in direct contrast to how careful she's trying to be? like approaching an animal. the first time it had been a sluggish back of hand thrown her way, easy to avoid. now, it's only diluted gray peering at her that zeri isn't quite sure actually sees her. maybe all her strength left now is devoted to supporting her own weight — she doesn't like the pits. thinks they're a bad idea. knows what they do to people that are good.

zeri doesn't always find her, and when she does doesn't always take such an involved hand. sometimes it's a passing conversation, 'just checking in'. not trying to insult other's pride. lately though, she has been. there's a savior-sized hole in her chest, filling further and further with concern for her every time she's found. she's not a hero, just standing in for one when she slides in little space left between wall and figure in a vie for other's focus when lingering on the edges doesn't seem to do it. she postures herself as something bright, stood straight against the weight on her shoulders, ❛ ya' ready to go back, champ? ❜

up close, the damage is so clear, green which flashes behind her eyes doesn't blind her to it; it's familiar. she's stopped looking at herself, lately, hadn't liked the way negative energy had begun to settle. displaced it with herculean efforts towards his dreams. vi, she thinks, has not been so productive ; smell of zaun's bars cling to her. she's getting used to it. hardly even scrunches up her nose when other drifts in closer. wall isn't enough, so it's her gloved hand brought to help brace around bicep, other fingers pressed firm to hip so she's not crushed between broad body and solid structure. ❛ hey — ❜

@gettnup / dialogue.

REST, scar had told them. or, rather, sleep. but where she can see time spent wearing on ekko, it doesn't on her : impossibly were it not for energy ever-flowing, she's still got another couple hours in her, could be doing something else, scouting ahead, or venturing into deeper level of zaun & just getting it over with but — she can see it's weight. it sets like cement in her shoes and keeps her sat firm for awhile : zeri's legs over top of his, knees bent and heels pressed in to keep him close as though ekko's the one who might get up and run. she is a buzzing thing, though, as always. they are piled up against the wall, his jacket discarded & shoved behind for some semblance of comfort. there are moments where it almost works. some times that she will lean, head against his shoulder, physically at rest, but then she'll get distracted by a particularly sharp jolt somewhere beneath the skin & find it reason enough to shift again.

always, it prompts a physical response : his fingers flexing and tightening where they wrap just above her knee, trail underside of thigh . him seeking her out with fluttering kisses wherever he can reach, as though by being in direct contrast — grounding — he can fight this, too. & every time, it is an action returned, apologetic ; her lips brief beneath his jaw, or her own hand above his elbow to squeeze lightly. she's not sorry for being who she is, power keeps them protected. just regrets that it's keeping him awake. her hand drifts up his arm, one time, finds it's place against the side of his neck, & where she has kissed time and again her thumb traces. static builds beneath the motion, not enough to harm, but enough to share that she is antsy. rest won't come until it's burnt out fully. admission, because she is past deciding without him; it comes out quick, stark to the quiet they've been trying to cultivate. pent up. ❛ — wouldn't be long. just a run. i'm way fast, too! you'd hardly even have time to say 'sorry, scar, we were plannin' to, but—' before i get back. ❜

green lingers on him, she almost thinks she can see his gears turning, formulating their response & decides she doesn't like where it seems to be going — chooses not to look anymore, then. she kisses him, thumb pressing in firm, static culminating into a proper jolt where it does . like sticking your finger into the live part of an electronic device, not so potent to be truly harmful. just shocking were it not expected. wouldn't be long. she's about to move to stand, distancing herself from warmth with hand sliding to shoulder for purchase to push upwards, but — who is she to say no? doesn't fully settle back in, rather takes a quick moment to unwrap herself from over him, knees finding their place beneath her so she can kneel.

before she'd simply had laughed it off, call him out, and give enough just to placate & get gone. but there's something about how he looks at her lately that dampens the quick cracks of impulse. ❛ little greedy, don'tcha think? ❜ not everything changes. except she doesn't roll her eyes now — laugh affectionate rather than teasing before obliging him. it is a lingering thing, her lips on his again. zeri's hands are kept to herself, this time : the promise of expending energy has it gathering in flickering lights at the tips of fingers. fights against noise for a moment longer with him, her forehead against his.

@gntlets / :)

when two harshly differing airs meet, it takes little to nudge them into becoming a storm . there is an anger behind her eyes which weighs oppressively above the concern that stirs in her chest . vi wouldn't even sit though she had been stumbling on arrival . made to lean then against the wall just inside her parent's workshop where, thankfully, her family has already gone to bed, encouraged to stay put with a firm palm pressed against shoulder while zeri had gone to grab anything fabric that didn't have oil on it. she's had questions near unending : where, why, who — she does not say that she thinks it was a bad decision, because it is never terrible to help . she'd had likely done the same, but that notion hardly makes a dent in the fact that she should have caught on quicker, somehow . coulda been her .

heavily, she inhales, focused on soaking up red & not adding to the pain . she has issues landing on it exactly, with the lightning which rattles beneath ribs, thundering enough to shake her every action . something akin to smacking dust out of fabric, the green flecks of energy that come off when rag once again meets skin . close enough, by all means, but she feels inadequate still, frustrated by being . overwhelmed in the eye, surrounded : she's able to keep her hand grounded where it is, but resting her forehead firmly against vi's chest isn't enough to save the rest of her. pack is already working overtime, familiar chugging hardly doing a thing to make her feel better about anything .

@hexsongs / :)

in an unsettling sense, they're almost alike, building foundations on new support beams . the more ingrained zaunites don't always crack so easy, but she is hard to ignore . some sorta pest they can try to swat away over & over without avail. arms folded, a frown plays at her lips despite upbeat music. seraphine, too, keeps coming back. around her own neighborhood, people talk, buzz about her latest show that, latest song this — she's talking big, but nothing has changed . come down for a bit, drum up all that energy, then do what with it? wasteful . they need more than pretty words & sort of catchy songs that mesh horrifically with the ever-present ringing.