#viktor roleplay

Rules are simple

1. Ask me anything (OC, rp, hcs, etc) 2. NSFW asks are welcome BUT It doesn’t mean I tolerate harassment 3. Age appropriate questions only

Tags

x All asks x Headcanons x Short stories & Drabbles x My art x RPs

Bout the Mun

Mun is 32 (an old coot) and it's important to reiterate there WILL be some nsfw content. As it is impossible to tell, honor system is those do not interact or send asks that are inappropriate for their age.

My other Blorbos

My mainfic is Arcane’s most esteemed rare-pair (I’m totally not biased) Scar and Steb 🦇🐠 I obviously have to plug it in here. Ongoing longfic.

Themes of war, politics, morality, character studies, exploration of differing points of view (aka respecting the characters, their dimensions, and the stories they tell), obviously lurve and some smut. This fic is ALL up in Firelight business 🪲

Sky was almost reluctant to turn the next page. Her journal was open and used as she continued scribbling down notes.

The book had been vague thus far. Describing runes as harmonious. Natural. The Hextech runes Jayce and Viktor used were a written language, while wild runes were a body language. Both could communicate the same concepts, but it simply came down to one's ability to understand them.

Hence the hope that this tome would offer an answer about this Inspiration Rune. Was it perhaps a wild rune?

Sky slid her tired gaze to her journal and scribbled down the question underlining it while drawing an arrow to 'inspiration rune'.

She flipped to the next page and furrowed her brow, her fingers lifted away from the page.

The scene depicted before her spread across both pages sent a chill down her spine. This tome was not for research purposes.

It was a warning.

The door to her office suddenly unlocked and opened, causing her to jump out of her chair and squeak a terrified sound. She closed the book with a heavy, curt thud and smiled.

A cleaning cart and an older lady walked into her office. "Oh! Miss Young, I didn't expect you to be here at such an hour! Do you want me to come back?"

Sky shook her head rapidly. "No! No! It's alright, Leti, I was just...I was just leaving. Packing up, Yeah. Yeah! It's alright. Jeez, what time is it? I lost track of time so easily." Her nerves made her hands shake as she gathered all her papers and books, stuffing them into the crook of her elbow.

The older woman looked at her in worry. "Just past midnight, Miss Young. Are you alright?"

Sky shuffled past the woman, waving her off. "Yes! Just, innovation never rests and all! Thank you for all you do, bye!" She hurriedly walked out of her office down the cold, mutely lit hallway. She hugged her journal, papers, and the now too-heavy book to her chest. Her throat felt closed off. Her heart raced. Her pulse thundered in her ears.

What if they tried the line between what should and shouldn't be done? What if Professor Heimerdinger was right? What if...what if this shouldn't be done?

A warning.

The image of destruction, death, and misery depicted in the tome burned in her memory.

The Hexcore had been an ever-shifting entity creating its own development and hypothetical sentience. It unnerved her. It glowed and pulsed eerily. It sent shivers down her spine, and she never knew why. The ominous way it spun and shifted more slowly than before. Calculative.  

Perhaps it was the way Viktor had become all too hungry as of late, pushing himself for a breakthrough that would-

Maybe it was how he seemed consumed by that...that thing. Never mind it being a pinnacle of research and advancement, the Hexcore must be destroyed. If this tome was true, if it truly recalled the events of a past instance of trying to harness arcanal power artificially, she had to tell someone. Viktor.

She had to.

Her feet automatically took her to the lab, her subconscious mind unlocking the door. She knew more than likely Viktor would have stayed at the lab. Nowadays, he slept here more than at his home.

Another chill ran down her spine, seeing that the lab wasn't lit with lanterns or overhead lamps but the slow pulsing and spinning pulse of the Hexcore itself. Corrupted webbing made broken, violaceous light flicker across the large space of the lab.

She approached her friend carefully. "Viktor?" She called out to him uneasily. "Can...Can we talk?" And before he could brush her off with an excuse of being too busy or involved with his current fixation, she hurriedly added: "It's important. About the Inspiration Rune," knowing it would catch his attention.