#run playthings

          send me a ✧ and i’ll bold all that apply to your muse.                      

     When he returns to Ionia, there is one being in particular that the blight always remembers. Her power stretches wide enough that it can taste it in the air, and while he wishes nothing to do with her, the Pallas compels him closer. 

"I drink tea and cover myself in many heavy blankets. I do not celebrate most holidays."

"If i could have all the pretty stuff without the cold, that’d be great."

Surprise, run-playthings! I'm your Secret Santa (well, from my Vi blog but you know). I didn't get to message you as much I wanted to but I'm glad that your answers to my messages were able to create a mental image for me to work with. I know I'm posting this a day (or two) early but I really wanted to show you in case I wouldn't be around on Christmas Eve/Day.

With your answers I pictured Syndra taking some quiet time up in her domain, watching the snow fall outside her home from a window. She'd be cozy in a thick sweater while enjoying some tea with blankets covering her and an extra few nearby in case she needed it. It would be a kind of meditation or relaxation time for her, a chance to clear her mind and think of everything and nothing at all. In the illustration above I tried to show her idly staring at her mug and the steam from her tea while lost in her own thoughts.

I hope you like this as much as I like you. Happy Holidays!

Blue eyes were hazy and unreliable, focusing momentarily on the woman before they faded out again. He was lying on the stunning green lawn of Ionia and he was fading, barely conscious and slipping even more with every second. 

♚:Head scratches

'Having my ears scratched feels really good but it's weird having Syndra do this.'

DO NOT MENTION THE SCORPION. NO ONE MENTION THE SCORPION.

THE LEAGUE THINKS THEY HAVE CONTROL OVER ME, SYNDRA. IT IS ALL AN ILLUSION. THEIR ARROGANCE IS INCREDIBLE, YOU YOURSELF MUST HAVE SEEN THIS TOO, SURELY? THEY CLAIM MIGHTY MAGICS BUT IN TRUTH THEIR WILL IS PALTRY COMPARED TO MY OWN.

"A mainland tradition," Caitlyn smiles, folding an arm behind her back. "Coming from a combination of generations’ worth of harvest festivals, astronomical and astrological observations, superstitions and fables, and historical safeguards. In the shortest week of the year, nations will gather to celebrate in their own way. For Piltover, we celebrate the education system, the ingenuity of our people, the fertility of our land, the marvels of the skies, and acknowledge the old ways that propel us ever into the future. It is a time for food, fun, family… and fireworks."