#roguedusk

// physical touch would be her primary love language, as she is often not really good at articulating her feelings into words. 

even so, she is also not a public person. she would not offer affirmation when someone is watching, regardless who is watching. she is somewhat too private, but can convey what she feels in physical means. soft touches, kisses and so on.

[Roleplay Questions | @roguedusk | Still accepting]

1: What is your favourite RP?       

//I really enjoy my Talon-and-Talon threads with @noxianmercy :D

7: One relationship you won’t forget.    

//I dun wanna play faves ;_;

I’ll say @imdravendrunk because he’s a sweet bean who’s stuck with me even though I was the most awkward, embarrassing, cringy person ever. Love you babe <3

8: Pet Peeves when it comes to roleplaying?          

—Detailed headcanon meme;

bland would definitely be a way to describe it. completely lacking in decor and extravagance. and as such, no one would really expect it to belong to the grand general himself. swain cares very little for decoration, and vastly prefers functionality. so as long as swain has everything he needs, he does not care for much else.

his quarters are clean, almost meticulously so. stripped bare of any indulgences. there is very little in the way of personal touches, no hints of hobbies or interests. the only real hint of who this man is comes in the way of a small book shelf besides his bed.

 unlike his study ( where he keeps history books, important tomes, research papers, etc ), this book shelf holds journals, collections of poetry and other more personal belongings. and perhaps this is the only human touch in his room, the rest is simply lifeless. 

OOK STARTING HARD AREN’T WE.

Well, I have a bunch of ships that I love dearly and. Bear with me on this one I will choose two ships for the favourites.

Draven x Soraka. Okay this one comes from an old blog of mine that I used to run as Draven, I’ll be honest, I did not expect it to be like a good ship or anything but with a few weeks in I was completely in love with it. I feel they have such a strange chemistry that works really well even though they are polar opposites. But you know what they say, opposites attract each other !

Aaaand Jinko of course. I am biased with this one because I can’t stress enough how much I want Jinx to have some normal moments as well, the only potential partner for her to trust and quite possibly chill with is Ekko. They have suuuch a good chemistry and I don’t know. I just love it so much I can’t even explain on detail—

As for the least fave ship…

I can’t really think about any to be fair. I am sure there are ones I don’t like but you know that feel when you get asked something and you forget literally everything ? Yeah.

I’ll go with Camille / Urgot in this one.

Massacre

Even one as impulsive and prideful as Vlad knew better than to risk the wrath of Targon.  He did, he swore he knew, but–

How often was one afforded a chance like this?

Diana was wounded and weary, and the sun was rising - she was in no position to deny him as his magicks snaked into her veins through her open wounds.  He called, and her blood responded, mighty and terrible, singing to him even as Diana screamed.

Visions danced before his eyes as he slowly drained her essence, and he sifted through them with the same airy ambivalence he would afford a merchant’s wares, carelessly casting aside memories of a lonely childhood, a perilous climb, a constant, unnamed yearning, until–

A massacre.

The very people that had saved her life, the elders that had given her purpose and taught her everything they’d known - every last one, lying lifeless at her feet, their blood dripping from her new armor; flesh rent and robes torn and such eerie silence where there’d once been vibrant life, their blood soaking her boots; the blinding light of a power she’d embraced when no one else would, their blood staining her hands–

He blinked, and his eyes were his own again - somehow, she’d managed to cast him out with sheer, furious force of will.  He took an unsteady step back, nearly drunk from even that brief taste of her - such great power, fraught with such exquisite pain, and oh, that fierce defiance, all tinged with naivety–

“I didn’t think there were people like you outside of Demacia,” he chuckled, eyes slowly snapping back into focus as he grinned, dazed and utterly unconcerned even as the Aspect climbed slowly to her feet, baring her teeth in a snarl that was more promise than threat.  “Idealistic, even when the world has given you no reason to be… But my, such a talent for slaughter!  I’m not even sure that I’ve killed quite that many all at once–”

Even if Vladimir had been expecting the blow, there was no way he could have avoided it, glutted as he was on that exquisite Targonian life force.  The curved blade bit into his shoulder, and his sharp intake of breath eased into hoarse laughter as he backed away, pressing a hand to the wound with something like wonder writ across his face.

“You know,” he said, locking his gaze to hers for a moment before his figure began to warp and melt.  His voice continued on even as he sank lower, into a viscous pool of blood that lapped almost mockingly at her feet.  “Noxus is always looking for talented warriors with chips on their shoulders.”

The last traces of the hemomancer seemed to evaporate in the early morning light, but his laughter echoed around the trees for what felt like hours.

she is the moon in all its glory, a light of divinity in the darkness of the ruined chapel. for a moment, he knows not if he should gaze at her in wonder, or turn away. 

the moonlight seeps in through the cracked glass windows, draining all of the color from them. as if its very life had been snuffed out, leaving only ashes behind. much like them. they were ruins, empty, crumbling and destroyed. inhabited only by shadows and old memories.

he refuses.

 “ no. we are not. ”

to the world, they were little more than demons. wicked creatures that lived in the night, innately broken and dangerous. and he refuses, he refuses to break under the weight on his shoulders. 

 “ it is not our purpose to be hated and feared. i will not accept it— but i will not be the devil they wish me to be. ”

he would keep it locked within his chest, he would bury it along with him deep— and then they would both die. abandoned and forgotten— and the world would live on in all its splendor and beauty.