⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀【 ⠀🕯⠀𝖘𝖍𝖆𝖉𝖔𝖜 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖇𝖔𝖓𝖊⠀⠀⸻⠀ @kuweile ♰ accepting ! 】
⠀⠀⠀𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑼𝑰𝑵𝑬 𝑴𝑰𝑺𝑻 𝑼𝑵𝑹𝑨𝑽𝑬𝑳𝑺 from the fair and alabaster, silk-like bushes of fur like a crisp fog settling in the woods. vladimir now wholly stands in front of the man who seemed to be overtly inviting himself to his private party. he could have gone unnoticed, with vladimir’s carefully curated network that lacks any genuine connection, granted his socialite status, it is impossible to recall who is who; even with the seclusion of the event, he cannot tell them apart. he calls them dulcet terms of endearment like the enticer that he is, quite an easy way to the hearts of people within this circle when you are of someone vladimir’s caliber, which he uses to his advantage every so often. if only the man at the entrance didn’t stick out like a sore thumb amongst others: possessing beastly features that no one in runeterra except for a certain vesani ‘friend’ of his had alone for centuries—the aureate eyes boring into his ruddy ones ever since he took them off the guests and met theirs… too heedless to be foisting oneself to somewhere, almost as if they are fully intending to ruin his night.
⠀⠀⠀before dissolving into ichor to slip through the herd of chummy nobles, he had told faris to keep an eye out for a sign to wrap up the function — which was continuing on its extended time already — in his place to save face if things went south.
⠀⠀⠀now standing before the intruder with an unwavering gaze, he tilts his head to expose his unguarded neck, an implicit taunt serving as a forewarning that no opening—not even a vital one could give him a chance to do something funny, not even a head-start like this, if they were to battle. this is not his typical body language, though it’ll be lost on everyone just like every other subtleties of his person. his hands open as a show of false fellowship, and his claws clatter with writhing of his fingers as if to dust off unseen dirt from them, perfectly three times.
⠀⠀⠀❛ what brought a fellow like you here, monsieur ? ❜ the cynical curl of his lips is all he can offer, it is as practiced and cultivated as anything else within his temperament.
⠀⠀⠀it is nothing but a rhetorical question, but the man answers:
❝ i thought it was a good time to pay you a visit. it’s been so long, after all; and we have so much to catch up on. ❞
⠀⠀⠀sickening to say the least, and as the lady of blood sends out the aristocrats with the help of his other underlings, vladimir’s will to continue his bluff dissipates. he has not felt such dread, at least not because of another person, for many centuries. though his memory fails him, blood recognizes blood; and the inkling he had felt when passing by the man certainly doesn’t belong to someone of his mortal family. sharing one last look with the last of his associates leaving, the terror settles into his very bones, and his skin that is cold ad nauseam feels like magma is oozing from every orifice. he cannot remember this face, nor can he recall any memories of it. but this is, by no doubt, the darkin he supposedly had slaughtered eons ago—the very darkin he stole the blood that is coursing through his veins from.
⠀⠀⠀❛ shaan, ❜ he breathes, the name sits heavy on his tongue. he can’t read the man’s face, but in his mien there’s not a hint of a possible faux pas on vladimir’s part, confirming his worries. ❛ i didn’t think dead men, such as yourself, could walk amongst the living—other than wraiths, of which you are clearly far from alike. then again, you are not a man, but a wretched vermin. ❜
⠀⠀⠀by how little he remembers of him, the fear within him swells more, but this would not be the first time he bit the hand that fed him. neither would it be the first time someone returned from the dead in his lifetime, there was no point in being surprised.
⠀⠀⠀❛ if you didn’t say so, i would have thought you sought me so that i could put an end to this unfinished business, quite ludicrous of you to think i would give you time of my day after all you have done to me all those years ago. ❜
