Corvids and death were almost one in the same; two concepts interwoven hand in hand. Some cultures even believed ravens and crows were a foreboding sign of death and so smelling - sensing such a presence among their territory came as no surprise to E.

             With little hesitation, they showed themselves, descending from their regular perch high within the trees and simply waited. 

Different: Three members of the opposite sex they find attractive.

Pastime: Three hobbies they have.

Doing: Three habits that they have.

“To put me on the spot with this first one. I have to go with Bron, Kalista, and Wrath. There are too many that I would want to say but, once again, I was put on the spot.

My hobbies consist of stripping and pulling apart a body even when they are deceased so that corpses down there don’t stack up as easy. Collecting more torture devices and blades for more inventive ways to torment. Last not least to observe mortals and their lives before I strike.

Habits I have include wandering around my prison aimlessly listening to the sweet whimpers and cries of my prisoners, cleaning and preserving my weapons constantly, and occasionally being enticed by the screams when I tear into the flesh.”

With torn fur clutched in her palms, the starchild squeezes her fists and exhales into the once-sweet air. Her breaths now come as shuddery gulps. Not quite a death-rattle, but enough to steal the vigor from her voice as she whispers into the air.

❝ I invoke thee, Lady of Vengeance. From beyond the veil, hear my plea. Come forth. Let justice be done. I name my betrayer once ... Warwick. ❞ A squeeze. A silent prayer that her trophy would serve as a fitting effigy.

❝ I name him twice ... Warwick. ❞ Another squeeze this time. Harder.

❝ I name him thrice ... ❞ The starchild’s grip goes slack, Warwick's name but a dying whisper against trembling lips.

IF ANYTHING is a given to those that know the defender even at the barest surface, it is that jayce prides himself for being a man of logic (or perhaps it is that he has the bad habit of being a snappy bastard even at the most innocent bystanders; frankly, by now, he doesn’t care much to know). it’s part of being a scientist, bouts of brash impulsiveness put aside, and he’s always found knowing the way things tick soothing. certainties of physics won’t be stolen away so easily from him, if not perhaps for the rare occasion where he’s met with magic, though in piltover those cases are far too few for him to account it and amass it to statistics.

such love for logic helps him none now when he’s faced with this apparition; a thin, corpse-like woman struck through with far too many sharp spears, the phosphorescent blue of her flesh a tell-tale sight of the supernatural, her eyes seemingly blind but something in the back of his mind tells him: she sees more than you, boy.

letting out a breath he had not noticed he had held, he eyes her as if to gauge intent for a syrup-thick second. tone low, whisper-like, shock tinging his speech all too treacherously, he utters:

Happy birthday to the ever lovely and amazing @spearsworn as it’s her birthday today! Hope you had a wonderful birthday!~

@baron-nashor bribed me to place the Void wife in here too and how could I not anyways cuz these three are like OT3 gosh??? 

“Teasing? Why… I always tease you, dearest Kalista.” A grin seemed to be plastered upon that skull of his no matter when she would seem to find him. Though it seemed she was upset… but that didn’t seem to surprise him too much.

“What have I done different for you this time…? You look to be frustrated more than usual.”

“Am I…? That’s not a common enough emotion coming from you, my dear… to see your eyes well up with fear means I’m doing something right. Tell me, shall I see how long it’ll take for you to scream? That’ll be so much fun prying it out of you… don’t you think?”