Viktor’s Aura

Indigo (rare): Absorbent, emotionally sensitive, evolved communication skills, introverted, alluring, perceptive, introspective, unique, high consciousness, creative, vivid imagination, ether-like/otherworldly, ambiguous, emotionally psychic, wounded healers, natural spiritual teachers, wise, against-the-grain, out-of-the-box, new-thought leaders, radical, artistic, directors, musicians, poets, channelers, gifted writers, challenge norms & paradigms. text from here.

“Indigos are introspective in nature. Like other blue spectrum colors, they are absorbent. Absorbent of emotions, absorbent of environments, and absorbent learners, as well. They ABSORB information.

This makes them well cut out for writing, music, and arts due to their sharpened sense of FEELING. They are able to artfully and intellectually interpret and translate feelings & energies into expressions.

They spend an entire life stewing on their injustices to one day take a stand and put an end to that fight. They will not sleep until it is accomplished. However they are not “fighters” like the reds (red aura people). Where reds bulldoze, Indigos infiltrate. They fight with consciousness. They fight with emotional intelligence. They are thorough and they aim to dismantle outdated systems that continue to affect our world.”

What type of soul would you have?

Blank Soul.

you have acquired the Blank Soul. you'd walk backwards into hell with a smile on your face. if only you'd care enough. you're blunt, moody and aloof. you'd say you weren't always like this but you seldom remember a time when it wasn't like this. you'd like to do good and you CAN do good, but... do those around you deserve it? haven't you gone through enough? can you save everyone? it's not about saving everyone its about doing what you can. and you know this. somewhere in your deeply sanitised heart you know. albeit your misery you prize yourself in your humour and by the gods you'll never let anyone take that from you. reluctantly you admit to being a good mentor. and i know that you are. you can look after others. it doesn't always end bad. just try not to let the cats claws tear you down. because you've learnt to lick love of the silver glint of a blade. and you're not sure if you can ever go back.

tagged by @shimmerbeasts and @ferinehuntress tagging: anyone who wants to do this.

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐒.

50% Intellectual. The Intellectual is the ultimate dinner-party guest. Engaging questions & thoughtful debate are their trademarks.

33% Creative. The Creative appreciates all beautiful things, in art & daily life. The creative act is essential to who they are.

17% Visionary. Leave it to others to live by the status quo. The Visionary is interested in new ways of seeing, solutions not yet imagined, products not yet built.

➤ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘: stole it from @knightfeared ➤ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆: anyone, tag me if u do it!

@runes-menagerie, continued from Discord.

𝗚𝗨𝗜𝗟𝗧 𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗦 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗩𝗬 𝗢𝗡 𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗦𝗖𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘, 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗬 𝗦𝗖𝗥𝗜𝗕𝗕𝗟𝗘, 𝗛𝗘 𝗙𝗘𝗘𝗟𝗦 𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗦𝗘𝗟𝗙 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝗧𝗢 𝗙𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗗𝗘𝗘𝗣𝗘𝗥 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗗𝗘𝗘𝗣𝗘𝗥 𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗢 𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗣𝗟𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦. Viktor is used to blood staining his hands - deserved blood, that is, like that rotten idea stealer Tomo - but Sky's death? It makes him despise himself, makes him wish he'd never wanted to save himself with the Arcane. Those selfish desires to prolong his own life had ended hers. He'd wanted to see his part of his shared dream with Jayce to its end, and in doing so, damned his body. Piltover, after all, had already damned it anyway by denying healthcare when he was too far along with his myeloma.

And yet - when he hears the voice come through, the pen drops, and Viktor stares dumbfounded at the HexCore. As the voice had came through, the damn thing even rippled! Like it was speaking. And he can swear it's Sky.

"Yes," he breathes, drawing closer, "I can. Is it - ehh - you, Sky?"

continued. @shimmerbeasts

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗚 𝗠𝗔𝗡 𝗥𝗘𝗚𝗔𝗥𝗗𝗘𝗗 𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗙𝗔𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗔 𝗕𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗦𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗘. His leg wasn't bad today, and thus, as long as he wasn't putting his full weight on the leg, Viktor was able to remain more mobile than usual. His cane rested just against the door, the angle of it almost barring anyone else from entry. He swooped in with the tray and gingerly laid it down before crossing to sit at the edge of the bed. His knee and leg brace gleamed as light struck it. He wore his Academy uniform that his father helped make, and upon the lapel were a few pins that spoke of his accomplishments. One platinum pin in the shape of a box said "Dean's List," and another showed a silver ribbon with a 1st place marker on it for an inventor's competition. Whenever Viktor visited, he received more commendations each time.

"I bribed nothing, simply asked politely - " he said cheekily, golden eyes gleaming, "ehhhh, okay, I promised to look at her arm and upgrade it. I've already done some preliminary sketches. I know Singed already worked to help her with Shimmer, but I think I could improve upon the arm, make it have more offensive capabilities."

The inventor looked over his father, heart panging at the sight: Silco looked so sickly, with his flushed cheeks and face, the sweat that beaded upon his forehead, and the reddened mouth that meant a lot of coughing. What an odd sight for Viktor, who was so used to being on the other side of the ill divide. Spying the color of the other's eye - was he imagining how reddish orange it was, how angry it looked? - the son gave a soft sigh and reached for the injector.

"How long has it been, Papa, since you did this? Do you need me to do it for you?"

Vik looked over at the mess of the bedside, as well. He knew his normally organized father was ill when things were out of place. Silco had a way of organizing the world, and when he didn't feel well, it always seemed that chaos overtook the room. Viktor's heart once again ached. The Eye of Zaun, taken down by the Noxian flu.

The inventor looked back to his father, placing the injector onto the bed beside his leg.

"You can quarantine with me here," he murmured, voice soft, reaching a single hand out to clasp his father's right shoulder in an attempt at comfort. Viktor squeezed slightly before pulling back, and adjusting himself on the edge of the bed.

"Yes, I took a break. I received word, and got down as soon as I could. There was a blockade topside that prevented me from coming down. Everyone at the Academy thinks I have the Noxian flu regardless."

A cheeky grin graced his features. As if on cue, Entropy, Viktor's raven, fluttered to the window and crept into the room. She said "Hello," in Viktor's thick accent and flew to sit at the edge of the bed. One lithe hand reached for some seed to give her.

"Entropy warned me as soon as she could, and here I am. How are you feeling, father? Are you hungry? I can get a washcloth to help break the fever."

continued. @shimmerbeasts

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗠𝗔𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗟𝗗 𝗗𝗜𝗗 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗘𝗫𝗣𝗘𝗖𝗧 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 𝗧𝗢 𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗨𝗣 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗪𝗔𝗬: 𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗗 𝗙𝗔𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥, 𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗘𝗦𝗖𝗔𝗣𝗘 𝗙𝗥𝗢𝗠 𝗣𝗜𝗟𝗧𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥, 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗛𝗘 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗦𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗕𝗘𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗠𝗔𝗗𝗘 𝗨𝗣 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗔𝗠𝗘 𝗣𝗨𝗥𝗣𝗟𝗘 𝗟𝗜𝗤𝗨𝗜𝗗 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗖𝗜𝗧𝗬. To soothe the melancholy thoughts and depressed shackles of his gifted mind, he often sat and spent time with his little sister, Jinx. Jinx, whose blue hair looked so out of place and yet like it belonged in the crackling fire's glow of his Zaunite lab. Silco had taught him how to braid, and here he was, gently sectioning the cobalt strands and putting flowers and other shiny materials there. He didn't know why he picked the lily, just that it seemed like an obvious choice: it represented Silco's power, and braiding her hair, or attempting to, if she wasn't busy moving, was an act of mourning.

The lily was one that he had often seen around Singed, and the day he led Silco back to the scientist's lab had been an intriguing one. It was the day the undercity was put upon a path of growth. With Silco and Singed's collaboration, the days of Vander's Zaun were numbered. Viktor didn't even have it in him to be mad that Jinx killed their father. There were worse ways to die, after all, and Viktor had it on good authority that Silco had wanted Jinx to kill him, if it got down to it. It was almost merciful.

His visor rested on the nearest workbench, and he was busily weaving more flowers, only interrupted by her hand proudly resting over her gallbladder. Like Viktor, she was augmented with Shimmer, an eerie reminder that their father was always with them. A small smirk played on his lips, and he tutted, "Jinxy, stay still."

Expert fingers continued to weave more flowers into her hair, and he grasped more lilies, and slid them into place before finishing with a smile. Viktor tugged each braid to tell her he was done and took the moment to bask in the roaring fire. The crackling warmth of the lab calmed the cacophony that raged within, the shared agony of a father lost.

He peered over Jinx's shoulder, his voice softer, "Do you miss when Papa would do this?"

In many ways, Jinx was still the same girl that Silco raised, but there had been a shift in her since he had died - she'd only become more herself, and the Herald not only felt a duty to watch out for her as her older brother, but for their late father.

"If you are up to giving me some more Shimmer for the HexCore, it would help me. But you don't have to."

what type of villian are you?

THE BETRAYER

You like to do things up close and personal. As personal as you can get. You are an excellent actor, and you do adore putting on a smile knowing your worst enemy, the one you hate the most, doesn’t suspect a thing when they tell you their deepest secrets. Your only motivation is revenge, and revenge you shall get. Perhaps you loved them once, long ago, but any fondness for your target you once felt has long since warped and twisted into perverse obsession, laced with malice and venom and seething hatred. Good or evil does not matter to you. All that matters is they get what they deserve.

tagged by:  @arcanescion

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄?

WHEN THEY’RE DANCING

you’re not sure if they know you’re there or not. you’re not sure if it matters. you watch them sway to the music, watch as they twirl around and smile for no one but themselves. they’re free and laughing. they’re alive and vibrant. they’re everything you might never be except when you’re with them. so full of life it makes something in your chest tighten. there are frown lines at the corners of your mouth but your lips are smiling right now. rare. and often, only for them. they have light in their hearts and some days you fear the darkness in you might swallow it whole. but they’d never let you walk away. so make sure the darkness inside you keeps all the other monsters away from their tender heart.

tagged by: @arcanescion