#bilgewatersshadows

Send “✍” And I’ll draw your muse.

The pitter-patter of the rain resounded with the echos of Graves’s footsteps as he maneuvered the streets he had long since memorized, ducking into alleyways and along abandoned streets no one but the bravest would dare enter. It had been so long since he was a child using these roads to escape merchants chasing after him for the food he stole, but, the circumstance required it.

Being stubborn as ever, he was adamant to not hide behind a pseudonym, even when in Bilgewater after those events had transpired. As such, he needed to avoid running into anyone until he knew how hot he was presently. He knew the whole debacle would not just roll over and it was a tremendous risk returning to the city. But, homesickness burrowed its way into his heart and he needed to return.

He turned a corner, knowing the area to be common-ground for illegal trades. No one here would rat him out to those chasing him, assuming there were even chasing him. These people were usually incredulous about someone backstabbing one of their own; as everyone was shady at best, some trust of blood was required for the trades to occur in the first place. Most of these goods were not easy to come by.

Graves took a deep breath, the air strong with gunpowder and sweat. The drizzle from the rain did nothing to hide that familiar scent. A smile crept across his face. Home. He was home. He loosened his grip around his cape, which he had wrapped around his head to keep himself dry as well as used for cover. He turned to the closest person, a woman a bit younger than him. 

“Pardon, ma’am. I was wondering if you could do me a favor and answer a question. What’s the bounty on ‘Malcolm Graves’? Tryin’ to see whether it was a mistake to come here or not, ya see.”

Again, Saga had been captured by people who wanted to sell him for money. A vastayan would be worth a lot of money, and one like him would be a great hunt for someone who wanted better game. Though getting him to places that would buy him, like Demacia or Noxus, meant having to do things in shady ways.This is what brought the boat to Bilgewater and it’s black market. 

   She could feel them. The fallen energy. What was Silla even doing out? It was past eleven, she should have been home doing homework. Something drew her out, however. Something dark. The blonde furrowed her brows as she stood in the middle of the park, watching the moon shine through the clouds as best as it could. She couldn’t do anything. Can’t or won’t? Silla asked herself. The poor girl hasn’t transformed since a nasty accident she had gotten while Janna was leading. A small rift began to tear open, causing Silla to reach for Denki, resting in her wand.

(drawn by @thelanternwretch <3 )

Send “🖍” and I’ll draw one of your muses/OCs !