* V. / unknown. - Blog Posts
meme. / no longer accepting.
@herpleasvre said : [ wall ] only if u want to tho
the impact was sudden. light flirting was always meant to escalate, he knows that these honeyed string of words were meant to appeal to her, charm the temptress beauteous woman before him ——— a delicate approach is favored, as a woman deserved the best treatment. to not only grant her these slow, gentle touches that he knew she craved from her hitched breathing alone, each mewl was indication of forthcoming submission. or so he thought. a faint smirk is all he detected before the subsequent forceful shove. back against the wall, instigated by pair of sharp claws ( at least, that's what he thought them to be ), his surprise is to be expected. to call this his usual rodeo would be deceitful ; however, relinquishing control & bestowing it upon her ... it's a sudden change he's willing to accept.
❛ whoa, ❜ tonal shift, lowered voice, thoughts processing these turn of events. evelynn is not one to so easily forsake a position of power, huh ? good. good. a woman who knows what she wants, the type of woman who could gladly kick his ass & face no remorse shortly after ... danger always attracted him. albeit he knows naught of her devious schemes, nor how she embodies danger itself, an innate desire gravitates him towards her, it's what allows sharp nails to dig into her hips. pain for pain. he likes it. ❛ didn't know you liked taking the lead. dunno what you'll do with it, babe ... but keep going. ❜
meme. / selectively accepting.
@shadowhelmed said : *drops down to one knee* [ choke ], my liege
this was bound to happen. / they stand at opposite sides of a battlefield, life's game has dictated that they become one another's enemy, for their causes & beliefs lie in conflict, sparking desires for war & battle, for one side to prevail victorious with erroneous perception of said victory coming from a just background. the ends do not justify the means. a canary must sing nature's song, hear her reverent melodies that stir devotion & love for her creations, for the wild magic whose freedom directly affects all life around it ; there is no question to it, it must be left intact. to limit such for another's cause is to rebuke nature's teachings, it is to manipulate her benevolent will & transform an amiable love into a malicious force !! to commit atrocities all in the name of an order !!!
notwithstanding a resolute heart that wishes to paint all a part of said order as malevolent, there was kayn who proved to be distinct. perchance will he acknowledge that it is the folly of his own sentiments to become involved with one so closely associated with an order he's devoted himself to abolishing, though the initial intent was to deceive. this veneer attached to rakan's face found more uses than simply charming, the act of befriending a foe for intel is just, for is it not a fool that shall be punished for misplacing trust so carelessly ? but who must bear the title of fool ? kayn ? no. even if original intent was to deceive, even if their friendship had been found on initial lies, that will disappeared the more he came to know him.
each conversation served one absolute purpose : bring to light the plans of the order that threatens his home, that threatens the magic coursing through these divine trees, the humid air that felt refreshing no matter the time of day. all what was brought to light ... was a newfound care for him, came with a silent denial, an inner conflict where he rejects these sentiments, while a side of him advises him to accept it. accept he cares for kayn, that whenever the frown on kayn's lips curved into a smile, no matter how small, its power to brighten room was indubitable ——— that whenever he bared his heart to rakan, rakan would accept it, he would not shatter this trust they've built, knowing that trust itself is fragile & can never truly be recuperated if broken. each time they gazed at one another, each time dawn threatened with sun's calling, rakan was aware of his own feelings : the feeling of not wanting to leave, that sentiment of i want to protect you. a force that cannot be trampled by time itself, one that life cannot wish to understand, no matter the desire for chaos & conflict, the force of love prevails within rakan's heart even in war.
now ... they lie in bed, kayn atop rakan's form, pressed deep within him, hands placed against hips, steady rhythm adopted to make things easier for him. to call this just sex would be a sin in of itself, it would be a blatant lie, kept in control, for to grant it autonomy in their relationship would prove disastrous. / though communication is a struggle, though the path of what they have is rocky & it may never come to perfect fruition, that's ok, they have each other. to tread upon dangerous, mysterious path with another is a risk far greater than going alone, rakan's pride shall give him needed strength to move forward. / pressing against kayn is an act to have more of him, for him to press deeper without fear, it is rakan's manner of agreeing through their passionate act that kayn may do as he pleases. then, comes the unexpected, hands come to wrap around his neck, & he gasps.
❛ whoa, what're you ... ❜ perplexed at first on his actions, then digits begin to press down against his next, efficaciously preventing oxygen to flow from air to lungs, & albeit his hands come up to grab kayn's wrists, subsequent words betray his actions. ❛ don't stop. ❜ conflicting feeling of pain & pleasure, an amalgamation of both is seeded at the root of his heart, it grows & grows until it's overflowing. it's not passion, it's not trust per se, but by far is this one of the more audacious acts he's ever allowed. to trust someone with hands around his neck, it's new. he doesn't want it to end, he won't allow it to end. ❛ keep going, keep choking me, keep fucking me. i'll ... tell you if it's too much, i promise. ❜
meme. / selectively accepting.
@death-from-below said : [ praise ] uwu
to relieve their desires. that was the purpose of this, no heart must drip onto his actions, they must all be guided by a lecherous want that overtakes his body, overrides emotion & reasonable thought ( not like the latter mattered much here, anyway ), allows each touch to be void of deep care, only a superficial level of it is exhibited. rakan is rough, because he feels it's right, because he knows that this is what pyke wants. the mewls that escaped trembling lips were indicative of such, stems from the touch at his chest, where rakan's hands maintain their focus, groping, rubbing. eliciting each whimper, each moan that coalesced with clarity to form rakan's name drove him to further extents, to continue touching & touching such a touch starved individual for no other purpose than to please. himself ? pyke ? ... a query without an absolute answer.
❛ yeah, you like that ? ❜ there, each feature shifts to form a smug countenance, evincing his own amusement of pyke's words of praise, the pleas that told him he's amazing at this. the begging request, don't stop, it fuels rakan's ego. pride dwells deep within his heart, within this lust that burns through his body, very one that has him pressed against pyke. can he feel it ? it's a wonder, but he's sure he can. ❛ lose the mask, babe ... ❜ a hand's travel is sluggish, but eventually tugs at the bandana, nonverbal request for its removal. he wants to see him. ❛ your eyes are nice, but i wanna see you. all of you. ❜
meme. / accepting.
@drorious said : [ denial ] ,,,,,,,,,hello
pride would dictate his visage to keep a collected exterior, to not give in & allow the hand at his cock to contort his features. rakan refuses to relinquish control, especially when it's draven, a worthy rival that declared his perfection to be the only absolute beauty, that he is more handsome than rakan. he refuses such an assertion, thinks it ludicrous, thinks a battle of prides may be so easily settled with a battle of wits, not an orthodox one : no dance, no battle, simply a test of ... endurance. who could tease better ? who could last longer ? who was more skilled ? at least, that was the initial intent. opting to go first was a prideful act, to allow himself to be touched & ... reduced into this moaning mess, it's embarrassing.
rakan's hips buck into draven's hand, seeking a comfortable rhythm whose action is ceased by sudden squeeze, sudden halt of the strokes, the gasps escaping his lips transitioning into groans of frustration & it only earns draven a glare. each time rakan feels a bubbling warmth building itself up at his groin, its tracks come to spontaneous end, as if man before him could read each & every expression on rakan's face. he hates it. ( wipe that damn smile off your lips !!!!! ) act of submitting to another is not an act holds any aversion for, but mere fact it's a rival of all people he's submitting for, it sucks. it sucks he's not allowed to cum, that draven's in control, that rakan leans against him for support & hears phonic vibrations that evince his chuckle. he finds this amusing, & rakan's irked that he does too ... it feels amazing.
❛ fuckin' ———— just let me cum. ❜ exasperated breath is delivered, strained as he utilizes the only tactic he's sure would work, even if it did damage his pride. ❛ you're being unfair, i'm beggin' ya, just make me cum, i need to. please. ❜ he may be out of breath, he may be initiating yet another futile attempt at bucking into draven's hand, but he knows one thing's for sure ... one way or the other, once it's his turn to eat draven out, his goal is no longer to make him cum fast, it is to hear prideful performer beg for him in turn.
meme. / accepting.
@quartlet said : o we doing this???????? okay [ blindfold ]
TO DANCE UPON THE FLAMES OF DANGER had been a viable way of producing entertainment, be it evoking ire from men that had no control over own emotions, thus constituting their subsequent violent attempts at ceasing life's song from blessing vastaya's ear / alas for them, he does not so simply allow one to intervene, his death is not nigh, it is a whispered tale amongst the laypersons that believe each deed he takes, each course of action seized, is a death wish that facilitates death's chilly embrace. ah, how such could not be further from the truth. / life's song is one he's heard for oh, so long, no matter her repeated melody, no matter how each verse is similar to another, there was enough to decipher one note from the other, enough knowledge of what makes the world go round that could be attuned into her performance. she may be her own orchestra, but rakan's attention will not falter. for if a double bar drew near, the end would only be evincing itself. the climax of her piece had been reached. it is reaching a velvety pianissimo, each sound growing more silent ... yet rakan smirks.
her song plays in the back of his head, but for how long ? he opts to toy with fire again, to lavish touches upon certain maestro's body, to admire the scrawny stature that had been capable of doing oh, so much.
he knows, he knows of the dangers that lurk within his course of actions, he is astutely aware of how that gun, tailored to his sense of fashion, is loaded with the bullets of his undoing. one. that is all that's needed for him to become a beauteous work of art, his feathers aflame & each limb in his body feeling the burning sensation as each part of him contorts into a phenomenal arrange of roses. yes, only he is capable of making scarlet liquid flowing through him to adopt the exterior of petals from beloved roses.
fingers delicately admire biceps, gripping, testing for a specific reaction. to evoke even one noise, a pleasured melody from jhin, a sign that he enjoys this. what comes next ... it's a blur. one moment, rakan's hands are roaming across clothed body, an overt attempt to entice him, to see if a virtuoso may so easily succumb to lust, see him in a more vulnerable light. / there's one absolute truth he's come to accept, that jhin himself is a poison he must not drink from, that to bare any sort of heart to him may prove to hold dire consequences, for a tale of love & care shall not prevail at the end of this story, at the end of their story. he cares naught for it. if khada jhin is the chalice filled with very wine that held a transient moment of euphoria, very one many warned rakan of to not drink from, for death lies at the end of this cursed drink, he would drink from it regardless of their pleas. owed to his confidence in hearing life's song ... owed to his insatiable curiosity that wanted more of jhin. more. MORE !!!
it was to no avail. sight had been relinquished, albeit not permanently. rakan finds himself on his knees, blindfolded, breath erratic for a moment as he attempts to recollect his memories of what occurred for it to lead here. nothing. a fool too lost in his own pleasure to connect what happened, now he is left to hum, wonder at what jhin plans to do. the only man that could kill him had the upper hand here, the only man who could so easily grant him chance to hear the end of life's performance holds the gift of sight, even through that mask. even then ... rakan smirks. there is no attempt to remove the blindfold, he does not stand up. for now, he shall play the part of an obedient nightingale & allow his song to do the talking.
❛ a blindfold ? ❜ intonation evinces his inquisitive tone, as if judging this turn of events. he isn't. he likes it. all it takes is a grin to know. ❛ didn't think this was your style, but i can't lie, i'm digging it. ❜ amused hum reverberates at his throat, thinking it's time to be more bold. verbally, at least. an offer, if anything. ❛ so, tell me ... you gonna use my mouth now, or what ? ❜
meme. / accepting.
@shurima-demigod said : [Good] because mun is curious and bored.
IT'S A RATHER RARE OCCURRENCE FOR HIM, finally finding one that is taller than him, one rakan has to crane neck back for, so that oceanic gems can be graced with the visage of the ascended & how hungry he looked. yes, he, too, wanted this. hand at rakan's hip is evident of that, very one that sunk sharp digits into him, urging him to move forward, urging desired friction. ( he dares to defy an order such as his, albeit lust's fire burns from within, nasus wins this round for he may subdue vastaya who wears freedom's heart on his feathers. ) rakan voraciously bucks his hips against nasus's, sating the silent command he was given, craving the electrifying friction that sparked something new, very one that would excite ichor into traveling south, south. he's growing harder in his lap, leaning forward with arms wrapped around his form, body pressed against his, arousal rubbing against defined torso, ironic how tables have turned. supposed advantage initially his, perceived that his charms had nasus at first, now ? perhaps it's the other way around, not like rakan minds.
❛ ... huh ? ❜ there's praise, good boy, assurance that by following his commands, he does good. who knew ... two words could fuel desire even more ? who knew that it would be why incisor sank into his bottom lip, evokes a deep intake of breath, before his own hand now travels down, feeling the expanse of taut muscle on the way to nasus's chest. he gently gropes, steady gaze kept there before he, yet again, looks up ——— an action he's not tired of ——— & allow a smirk to grow onto his lips. he's digging this a little too much. ❛ yeah, guess i am. normally i'd be a little more impatient, maybe i am, but ... ❜ he hums, leaning forward, proposal ready to slip through his lips. ❛ call me that again, i'll let you take the lead, sound good ? ❜ as if nasus didn't already have this songbird wrapped around his finger already.
meme. / accepting.
@obsidiantias said : [ adore ] (^:
how'd they get here ? / fate's path had always been a mystery, darkness shrouded the road forward, even if it was the only road one could ever take ; with each step, an opportunity for light to shine on this darkness. with each step, careful & meticulous, solitary & with another, something new each time. be it their meeting, no matter how long ago it was, no matter the initial rivalry on rakan's side, or the unending truths that came to light with each conversation. it was always something new between them. / now, here they lie in bed, future uncertain, but they care naught for it ; no, no, what mattered most was the present. what mattered most was each other.
admittedly, he prefers their positions to be reversed, for him to be on top , to be marveling down at zelgius & every little detail he could note. ( that smile made of honey reserved for none other than him, the doe - eyed gaze he sought for, they were a treasure rakan cherished. ) now ? he finds himself back to mattress beneath him, albeit soft bed could never match the delicate touches zelgius gave him, the way his fingers roamed over his body, the way they danced & touched every part that could elicit velvety gasp from touch alone. it's divine, it's amazing, it's zelgius that runs a hand over his chest, pressing hips down against rakan's. the intent was never to allure, he doesn't think so, he feels special. fragile, a careful treasure in supposed lover's eyes, a temple worthy of worship through more than just dulcet vocalizations.
not as if he particularly minded, for the benevolent words flowed naturally, they were never empty. zelgius's heart delivered those sonants with a passion for him, & who is rakan to reject the advances of a tattered heart he cares for ? who is he to deny the love blooming in his heart for him, him, who has only ever questioned himself & his identity ( they're jealous of his beauty, they envy what they cannot have, for zelgius belongs to no one. even as they are together, they are each other's but do not belong to one another. their paths have conjoined, decision to move onward together is of their own volition ).
he loves him. he indulges in it, in the barrage of kisses at one side of his neck, in the traveling hand that rests on the other side. rakan breathed, a reminder that this is real as he cranes his neck, granting more access, desiring more from him. more of those soft kisses, more of that new sensation pressing against him ——— it's hard. it's hard to breathe consistently, his breaths were short, edging closer to panting than actually breathing ——— & he basks in it. basks in the glory of this newfound feeling, distinct from the many times he's bed someone ; their touches were rough, he was rough, previously uncaring & meant naught more than to satiate lust's fire, reduce it to a dying ember. but not with him. lust may be a factor, yet it is never at the forefront here, it is their love that grants them ability to be careful, to treat each touch as magical, to truly care for not just the act itself, but the indubitable fact that it's with each other & they care, they care.
❛ zelgius —— ❜ out of breath, the reverent touches, the meaningful whispers of praise ... he yearns for a perpetual loop of this moment, for time's sand to come to halt & grant them this quiet blessing : to remain with one another in their room, away from public's eye. for their act to go on forever. to love him uninterrupted. it is a selfish wish, one that fate will not grant, for that alone he must make the most of it. ❛ please, ❜ rakan doesn't recall when his arms wrapped around zelgius, when his sharp nails gently dragged down the back of scarred flesh, when one hand carded through azure hair & grasped it to keep him close. fuck. ❛ keep ... going. i trust you. ❜ cerulean hues sought verdants, yet that desire must be withheld for now, left for the upcoming act, their shared act of love.
[ adore ] your muse being near reverent with mine in bed.
handsome. /// drorious.
❛ AHAHA-HAAA . you dance, eh ? light on yer feet ? i can show ya ‘ a REAL tango , buddy . ❜
A LAUGH EXCEEDED HIS TONE in splatters of molten gold . his hand came to the height of his hip jutted outward only slightly. beauty and grace. they both had it. however, draven had perfection matched by none. his perfectly sculpted features and godlike regal personality was something to admire from across the seas and within the valleys of mountains . he was DRAVEN . the performer of the people . a name too big for just any border . many would say it was his inflated ego that was too big. but look at him ? how could such personality , such vibrant color, and such refined beauty be left to not be presented to the crowds ?
the performer stepped, closer, closer , closer . perhaps this effervescent feathery vastayan could prove interesting. he was a performer, in ways . there could be something fun to this.
❛ i know, yer like ‘ oh noxian , ewwww ! ‘ or somethin, but forget about that blah blah strength blah blah stuff and just take a moment to go ‘ oh, handsome ! ‘ ❜
@feyquil·
A WISH FOR PRAISE, a wish to exhibit one's own skills, it's an intriguing offer, seeing one whose beauty is enough to rival his own. perfection could never be a person, rakan is a vastaya & perfection has chosen him as its successor. he is the only performer, the only one given the ability to bestow grins & mirth on others as he danced & they, too, joined his dance. what is a performer like draven to be praised for ? simply his looks ? he won't accept it. at least, it's the initial reaction. he thought all the praises were glib, insincere, for the possibility of there being someone hot like him ? an impossibility !!
❛ takes two to tango, i'll think on the offer. ❜ to accept is to concede one is the greater performer, to give up this art he's honed & is known for is a sin he refuses to commit. no matter how tempting the offer, no matter how dancer's legs mimicked the performer's own, taking few steps closer, using height as a leverage, towering over him. see his lax posture ? how he is at ease, not at all threatened ? he has no reason to fear. he knows he's perfect. any admissions to draven being hot ... unnecessary, but the thought certainly dwells. ❛ question is ... you think you can keep up with me, ❜ brief hum, he opts to sate a small desire, ❛ handsome ? ❜
unprompted. / always accepting !!
@placeabo said : “ you will find worse people here than where you’re from. you should go. ”
what lies in the depths of these murky waters, what secrets are there to be found in the porty city of bilgewater, was there certainly any treasure he could find viable to enhance his own beauty ? truth be told, he doesn't care. a simple curiosity is enough to allure him away from the familiar lands he so traveled, that's how it's always been. did he, necessarily, want an absolute answer to his questions ? no, rakan just does, thinking about any of his reserved for after the fact. he's bound to have heard the many dangers that exist within this city —— but all is well, so long as he makes it out alive.
❛ thanks for the concern there, buuuut, ❜ rakan appreciates it, the warning, that is. perhaps he should heed the advice & leave here ( maybe the thought even did occur to him the moment he set foot in the city ), albeit he's not one to leave so easily when there's an insinuation of entertainment. that's what danger was to him, a promise of something new, something fun. if his dance isn't recognized here, then surely a new title could be created while here, right ? what's more fitting than a persistent battle dancer ? ❛ i'll be fine, trust me. i'm a little slippery, the people here won't be able to catch me. ❜
unprompted. / always accepting !!
@friendsinthefrost said : Twink. - Jayce
bitch.
unprompted. / always accepting !!
@unshackles said : " a little bird told me that you and your... spouse are quite familiar with rebellions. "
oh, oh ? what an intriguing statement, what an intriguing man to propose such a rumor he's heard naught of. few know of their rebellion, mostly vastaya, though whispers did not discriminate ; if a human ear could catch wind of their plans for rebellion, then surely a wider audience will be garnered. heh, good. the more eyes on him, the more exciting this stage where war's tension rises // all will marvel at his dance, freedom's song, an unending tune that he & xayah forged, so that everyone may experience magic as it's meant to be : wild, free !!! // leaving a guest unanswered is rude, it's tacky. granting him the honor of a response is the least rakan could do. perhaps do a little digging of his own. he always was the most curious between him & xayah.
❛ maaaaaybe, ❜ mischievous in his intents, his tone adopts a playful tune, brows lowering & corner of his lips quirking into a lopsided grin. elusive as always, the truth isn't too important, is it ? if it is, there's no need to worry over it. living in the moment was far more entertaining. short - term entertainment always proved to be greater than long term ( both diminish at different rates is all, one slower, one faster ! a transient moment of joy has more worth than long ones that shall eventually die out ). ❛ depends which little bird told you. ❜ depends whether he is enemy or ally. he's human, comes the assumption perceived from his physical appearance. no trace of vastayan qualities found on him. ❛ who told you ? but, i like to make things fun, take a few chances with fate. we are quite familiar with rebellions. that a problem ? ❜
unprompted. / always accepting !!
@ekkological said : He hands him a metallic medallion that fits in his hand. You can see his reflection; he may or may not have stolen it.
it's a strange contraption. or, really, it's just jewelry if anything, albeit it's metallic, at least it feels like it. he hums. is this a gift, is this something he can wear ? more importantly, could it make him appear more beautiful than he does already. ( who the original owner was ? that's not too important, he'll worry more about the inherent beauty it offers ) after pondering on the thought a little longer, he opts to stuff it into one of his hidden pockets, a smile curling onto lips, appreciative. not the first time he's received a gift, not the last either, but it's the thought that counts this time.
❛ thanks for the gift ! i'll find a way to wear it, just give me a day or two. ❜ maybe a little longer. he's not the most intuitive individual out there, but he sure as hell does try, & trying has to amount to something !
unprompted. / always accepting !!
@kissing-stones said : Hug! I want a hug, pretty boy!
❛ alright, alright, here's a hug, just for you ! ❜ rakan has now adopted taliyah.
rakan liked for a hug.
@fxlgurkinesis said : Her arms wrap around the other, unable to keep a smile on the face from the sheer positivity and brightness that seems to radiate from the other. Though she was careful to not disturb his wing, or what she thought was a wing at least.
yeah, that's definitely his wing, donning the guise of a cape to deceive humans into believing him to be one of them. a necessity to keep his true identity a secret —— however, it's when her amiable arms wrap around him that he realizes the eyes of the world are not on him for a moment, it's naught but serene solitude with a friend. slowly, but certainly, does red cape dissipate & form into his golden wing, feathers gleaming & their radiance softened. he can relax. he can be himself, it's a rare comfort when he's so far from the lands he calls home. no matter how minute that comfort may be, its significance could not be abandoned, for this wing is a part of him, a part he can exhibit around lux. what a relief.
❛ whoa, where's this coming from ? ❜ melodious tone adopted, pleased hum as a sigh of relief escapes him. arms gently come up & he wraps them around her petite form, hugging her in return. it's a gentle hug, possibly betraying expected vivacious & enthusiastic hugs ——— was such appropriate in the first place ? probably, though he opts for a hug whose nature won't disturb peace's rare silence. life here seemed a little too busy. ❛ if you wanted a hug, you could've just asked ! promise i'm more of a hugger than i am a fighter. ❜ mischievous quip, intending to tease & lie, not out of malice. he knows he excels at both.
unprompted. / always accepting !!
@obsidiantias said : “you do not seem fazed,” his tone is even, but his gaze does not betray his curiosity, despite how he reigns in his expressions. claws (once, they had been talons--) manicured into shape far more similar of that of human nails, zelgius looks away, into the distant crowd, nonchalant. "i suppose you must have seen others, then, not unlike myself."
❛ was that what you were worried about ? ❜ in spite of how dense many perceived him to be ( & how such truths lied within his audience that understands how information, no matter how blatant, cannot be processed at times. if he perceives lack of connection, then no such connection existed in the first place, that is reality ), rakan had the capacity to observe & spot conflict between sentiments, dependent on how it's presented on his exterior & the intonation of his voice. zelgius was tough to crack, an impenetrable fortress, walls crafted by none other than him, a mix between vastaya & human. was such a truth reprehensible ?
———————— NO. shunning them was a commonality embraced by many, but when has rakan ever abided by what they perceived as truth. albeit he doesn't put much thought into complex matters such as those, there's no reason for him to follow such arbitrary thought patterns. betrayal, abomination ? don't give him that crap. one's duty in life is to not just be, but live. to live as a mix of the two ... where's the wrong in it ? what part did zelgius have to control any of that ? ( more than he realizes. not once did sky blues grace hands with a glance, 'till now. )
❛ plenty. ❜ when was the last time he'd met someone like him ? possibly long ago, the details are hazy, but rakan knows himself enough to say he's had encounters with others, who they, too, had vastaya blood, whilst having human blood course through their veins. despite conjured prejudices, they are not different in any way. to him, they are attuned with the wild magic from one side, grounded by normalcy on the other, & even then, that was their normal. no such reason for him to judge zelgius on it. ❛ who you are, doesn't matter to me ! those folks over there, ❜ gestures towards distant crowd, confident grin blooming onto his lips, ❛ sure they look similar, but betcha no one's dance is the exact same. just similar. even if each dance is different from the other, there's nothing wrong with that in my eyes. ❜ finally, does his head turn to take a look at zelgius's face. what complete control he had over the emotional side in him // what have you endured ? bare your heart to me. even a tattered heart can be mended with support. // ❛ so give me a smile, alright ? otherwise, i'll have to make you dance with me again. hope you've been practicing ! ❜ hopes his foot isn't stepped on again.
jhin. /// quartlet.
WHAT LIES YONDER THIS FALSE FACE ? what lies beyond any pound of flesh, ruddy and rotten, awaiting oblivion and only knowing the subtle kiss of decay at every waking moment since birth. as far as most folk are concerned, this perfect grin was his true face. carved by his own hands, fashioned by him and him alone. no others could match it, nor replicate each contour and porcelain edge that now looks back at the vastayan, forever ebbing and flowing. oh, but he has so many others. a weeping mask. a furious mask. a melancholic mask. one set of eyes peeled atop another, awaiting the day they will be molded into something new. perfect. pristine. staic cold.
❛ you may call me jhin. ❜ the name rolls off the back of his tongue, moulded and screaming, colouring the blinking spaces between them in a bloody violet. the sound is accompanied by the dipping of a bow. he practically purrs, voice already entangled by an unseen manipulation that distorted and deepened his already heavy throat. there are no other syllables. only one ( and a thousand others ). only one chiming sound that taints the air, intermingling saccharine sweetness and lavishness fitted for a nobleman’s wrist. it sounded like an omen but also a blessing. khada jhin postured himself all too well, so much so that it was so horribly frightening, in the way he could come off so very pleasantly despite the underlying eerie gleam that travelled up the slope of his cloak.
he knows the significance of a name. perhaps that is why he pondered on giving a false one, he has so many already, it would be easy to string together fair - sounding chords. no matter. his head dips in a sidelong glance, the cherry red wine of his gaze not once breaking from summer blue. ❛ now i have given up my own, it is customary that you give yours. ❜
PERFECTIONISM'S IDEOLOGY IS A DANGEROUS ONE, demanding the utmost of one, some may see it as motivator, others will reprimand selves over inability of being able to reach that impossible hope, faux & shining, bright & warm for a deceptive comfort, it was all a mistake. / none survive its depths, that darkness's grasp, no matter if metaphorical, maintains steady grip on their being ——— forget the corporeality, it is the spirit in which it all lies. with such low spirits, they drown in a pool of doubts, drown, drown, drown !!! / but not him.
his name ( jhin, was it ? ) ... there is nothing he knows about him, sans the name. he is a stranger, & rakan ponders of the mask, what it would take to crack it, to see eternal grin, etched onto the surface of what he deems as jhin's face, crack. / that curtain has not been raised yet, not 'till the show starts. desire's urge brazen, dictating a hasty act without thought, take the mask off —————— he relents, impatience strong, yet is it not more fun to entertain himself with said impatience ? ponder, ponder on what murderous intent could be evoked, see meticulous man, following perfection's decree, fuck up in a search for vengeance ? ah, how fun is the thought. his time to strike is not now.
❛ you'd like to know my name ? ❜ an opportune moment to introduce himself, make his name known to stranger that has not heard of whispers & praises of the dancer whose charms were everlasting, whose love for party & freedom were what made him distinct from the rest. / has he noticed ? the flow of his voice when attached to each word, each sound, how rhythmic & natural it all was ? ( curiosity, she is his reason, she is what allows for radiant smirk to bloom, as charismatic as sunlight. ) ❛ a pleasure to meet you, jhin, i ❜ slightly does he lean body forward, limb at his side raises dramatically, pads of each digit facing bright blue skies above, & he pauses. dramatic effect. in hopes of a laugh ? to mock ? who knows, rakan just does. ❛ am rrrrakan. ❜ query answered with best intentions, he now bends forward, limb lowering, 'till a successful bow is given. if he is to give his name, it's only fair he makes it as flashy as possible. all eyes on him. even if an audience of one, eccentric antics are never abandoned.
❛ finest dancer you'll ever meet, ❜ now, he gravitates towards masked man, striding in an all too calm manner, perhaps too mischievous for his own good. ❛ that, & i'm known for ... ❜ upright at first, though he opts to slouch forward once more, as hand reaches to gently hold exposed hand, perhaps the only natural part of him in rakan's eyes. own hand raises jhin's, toward rakan's face, near his lips, a true gentleman's greeting, a kiss pressed against back of his hand all that's missing. in its stead, the threat of one with sneering lips, curving upwards in its every joking intent. he is coquettish for the thrill, for his second quality, ❛ my charms. some just call me the charmer. lucky you, ❜ subsequent vocal vibrations are mirthful, a chuckle to accompany this demeanor he's adopted. cerulean seas afixed on eternally smiling mask, daring to challenge the crimson roses that gazed back. ❛ many would kill for a moment with me. ❜ & he retracts his hand, taking a step back, returning to his own personal bubble, previous upright posture, hand resting against his side.
unprompted. / always accepting !!
@bloodthrrsty said : " a lot of color, and a lot of shouting doesn't keep you from being catfood. so why don't you try taking it more seriously. "
❛ try taking it more seriously ? ❜ such an impertinent accusation ! were the vibrant hues of his feathers, very ones that garnered the attention of any & all that dared cross paths with him, not enough ? shall a plumed vastaya forsake the loving colors of a warm summer ——— blending into the sea's delightful greens near the tips of his feathers ——— for the sake of being ' serious ? ' no, no !! beauty does not bend its will so easily, it is carefully constructed & upheld by time, objective beauty like him can't change at the discretion of others. no, he remains cool, collected, not a care in the universe, & that star provides everlasting gifts for all. so long as a job is done, appearances & the volume of his voice don't matter. never have, never will.
❛ you take things way too seriously ! ❜ a gradual crescendo within his words, rising & speaks with a drawl just for emphasis. he is the antithesis of a passive, hushed person —— they could not handle an audience's eyes, whereas he craved it, sought it for success !! ❛ i'll be fine. if i haven't been turned into catfood yet ... ❜ hums as his a hand is drawn towards own face, singular digit tapping against the side of his head, knowing grin curving at his lips, smug, for he knows he is elusive & can make any escape with how swift he is. everything he did always had a dash of pizazz. ❛ chances are, it ain't gonna happen any time soon. ❜
unprompted. / always accepting !!
@yuanfena said : yasuo lifts a tentative hand , pad of his index brushing along the underside of rakan's fur tipped ear - a near imperceptible friction. " hm " a quiet hum , " sorry " he adds as he slowly lowers his hand back to rest on his side , corners of his lips tipping upwards , " couldn't help seeing if they were as soft as they look "
often are feathers considered most important aspect of him, usual for them to be at center of another's attention, considered as the most beauteous aspect of his person ( every part of rakan is beautiful, he is beauty itself, no such thing as flaw on his exterior ), for their colors were warm & their surface velvety, heiled by the many onlookers as a demonstration of a softness fabricated by nature's divine hands. all appreciation welcomed, for it was praise, verbal or not, & he liked that. / one may consider touch itself a minute act, but not him ——— no, its significance amounted to greater than initially perceived, perchance approaching insurmountable in his eyes, as it served as generous indicator that his allure was effective. that others considered him meritorious enough to be granted attention through curiosity's means. it sated his blatant desire, a need for some form of praise. / such is customary when it came to feathers, but what of these ears, whose softness went unnoticed, whose condition kempt for the sake of flashy appearance, whose silk - like surface had never been touched.
how foreign is touch's blessing & how abrupt !! / not a thought of that desire had crossed mind in a while, though upon receiving it, it elicits the softest hum imaginable, vocal vibration brushing against lowest tonality, leaning towards singular digit 'till —— ugh. golden opportunity, transient as it was, had been revoked, an apology in its place. the only apt response ? a huff & brief groan, interlaced with displeasure. / yes, foreign was that touch at first, though he enjoyed it. ear's twitch is slight, head cants to the side, & azures shift to scan caramel before moving onto the rest of yasuo's features. though, rising grin is most pivotal change ( infectious, capable of making rakan's pursed lips curve into minuscule grin, compounded with brief chuckle ), it was home to a boundless curiosity ( rakan thought so, at least ). who is he to deny a friend such an implicit request ?
❛ y'know, ❜ characteristic lilt makes itself present in voice, innate rhythmic tone, befitting of dancer & singer alike. ❛ if you wanted to know whether or not my ears were soft, just ask ! ❜ carefree, not a drop of anger in his voice ; even now, he is cool, he remained mischievous, he liked having his ears touched. head tilts ever so delicately towards yasuo, overt invitation through nonverbal means, he can't just say no to that, right ? ❛ you can touch 'em, go ahead. take is as a thanks. what for ? dunno ! but, i'm sure i owe you some form of gratitude. ❜
??? /// yuanfena.
@feyquil· asked : ❛ sorry, looks like you’re involved! ❜HOWL’S MOVING CASTLE / ACCEPTING
HIS SENSES were still sharp even underneath the veil of alcohol , the thin fog cast over his mind a constant companion that no longer hindered him. he had no intention of getting involved in anything , much less something that would bring undue attention to his person. still, he couldn’t have stood by when five fighters thought it fair to tackle the ONE , even when it became apparently clear that this individual did not require his help. his pointed steel swept through the still air in habit. the sword was clean of blood , all its cuts carried out by the sharp gales it summoned.
“ is that right? ” his lids lowered over dark eyes , voice gruff underneath his high collar. the wind picked up from all directions , steps lighter than the ones before - furtive. “ i should have known, ” his steady gaze lifted to take rakan into his vision , a name he had heard carried in the whispers of the wind once , or twice , and had only really learned moments before. a crooked smile tilted his lips , pressed towards his left , “ you look like trouble. ”
to commit folly & be chased by five fighters that had an acquired aptitude towards the art ? that is where a charmer's obliviousness becomes evident, knowing naught of how fearsome foes may be / his idea appeared simple, it was brief, all for a small bit of entertainment acquired through riling up these guys. the plan was to slip from their fingers, a slippery dance that facilitated his escape ; he did not, however, account for how they might stick to him. chase after him, close that gap between them, jump on him as if he were prey, left with no escape route, near its death ——— too bad this bird has wings. this bird has the benefit of the wind to keep him in life's flight a little longer, his swan song shan't be sung yet ! upon being rescued, he takes his stand & walks on over to supposed ' gallant knight ' with an all too jubilant gait, as lively as ever.
❛ seems like you know of me, huh ? ❜ hand comes up slow, digit curls around his own chin, humming & assessing yasuo's facial assets. hm. not exactly what he expected, but beggars can't be choosers. the wind's cry does not relent & he opts to say by warrior's side, humming at conjured safe zone. ❛ i am trouble, let's get that straight. ❜ fingers snap, index pointing towards group of five. ❛ follows me wherever i go. take these guys, for example. ❜ smirk curls at his lips, from ear to ear. ❛ i dunno, though. danger always brought out my bad side. it's just a lot of fun, wouldn't you say, stranger ? ❜ he's as loquacious as ever.
ahri. /// vuikusen.
Annoyance flickers as the vixen’s ears begin to twitch the moment he began to mention how shes a dependable ally & that hes SUPPOSEDLY the more beautiful one - IMAGINE lying to yourself like that ! Hands put themselves ‘pon the females curvaceous form as she leans forward almost attempting to TOWER over him yet he still holds an inch to her in height . “ You’re attractive but not that attractive ! “
Though Ahri knows that was more than enough to make the male elated with such praise , the nine-tailed fox holds herself to high standards & believes to be one of the most gifted / beauteous creatures on this plane of existence . Beauty is always in the eye of the beholder however Ahri manages to favor that quite a lot. “ Of course I’m a dependable ally , what do you think I am ? ”
❛ you're a dependable ally, always have been, always will be ! we just can't have your looks faltering —— & listen ... ❜ he is not one to go on tangents of what is beautiful & what isn't. it's not his style. however vain it may sound, he knows that beauty's kiss has chosen him ! ahri, however, is a picturesque vixen that exemplifies feminine beauty in his eyes, her curvaceous form & pretty lips exemplifying that ; yes, yes, if one were to deceive rakan's ears with a dulcet lie of her being beauty's embodiment, he would fall for such a perceived truth, refuse to disagree !! regardless, he, too, is aware of his own beauty, he swims in it, drinks from it. a visually attracting charmer, too, deserves to be beauty incarnate. such a perplexing situation, is it not ?
❛ there's things that are clearly beautiful & just plain beautiful. we're both on the clearly beautiful side, just ... ❜ a hum, digit pressing against this line of his lips, pondering on choice words that come next. mind's blocked / he cannot care for it now, a confession of the heart is better, right ? ❛ i just think i can captivate more eyes than you, is what i'm saying ! ❜ a confident statement delivered with a nonchalant smile. a bit egotistical ? perhaps.
❛ do i ... recognize you ? ❜ is this information that he's supposed to know ? are vastaya now expected to understand & process all of the information that is whispered & shared between the humans ? absolutely not. hand travels short distance to rub nape of own neck, canvas of his face colored with confusion ( heart on his sleeve, or heart on his face ? perhaps too much heart is the issue ). lips part for a moment, as if to speak, only for them to purse & consider his next words carefully. to hell with it. ❛ nope, sorry, you don't look familiar at all. ❜ /// @prodigal-ezreal
❛ what you just used there ... ❜ there was no doubt in his heart, it's beautiful even when a human uses it, albeit different in its own way —— is it as free when they possess it ? is it restricted ? queries are conjured as he processes her methods, cyans fixating on her countenance, then slow do those orbs shift to gaze at her petite hands. ❛ that was magic, right ? ❜ features enter into silent conflict, uncertain between looking perplexed or excited. he opts for a smile, appearing amiable, even if it's only for a brief moment. ❛ can you do it again ? i wanna see more of it ! ❜ /// @demacianmage
❛ ouch. that looks like a nasty wound. ❜ is making such a statement appropriate upon seeing stranger suffering in silence ? in the solitude of sacred forest ? he believes so. silence of the forest a pleasant sound to accompany any particular moment, but to grant one an opportunity to fill said silence with his voice ? perhaps that's a blessing in of itself. he does not hesitate to embark with a hesitant gait, as if to exhibit innocuous concern whilst maintaining a safe distance to not lose his life so easily to a human. ❛ you, uh, need a hand there ? i could probably help you, but that's a huge probably. ❜ /// @kyunai
sidles up to him and worms his way beneath his cloak wing thing to keep warm
inattentive azures fixated on particular rock structure, attempting to understand if its form had always been the way he sees it now // has the rock undergone change ? was what perceived as immovable, unchanging, able to convert to its current form ? logical explanation behind it a bore, more intriguing is the idea of life's dance interlacing itself with rock's time, nature's dance wild & free, the two conjoining to create what now sits before him. attention, however, is fully diverted upon feeling one hide beneath his wing. very same one that dons the guise of a cloak to foolish humans, those that knew naught of the magical properties bestowed onto it, over it & beneath it.
speaking of lying beneath it, just who is that ?
❛ hey, careful with the feathers ! ❜ exclamation's delivered without second thought as he quickly turns around, perpetrator revealed ! in lieu of anger painting his features, a smile finds itself forming on rakan's lips, a chuckle elicited at the sight. limb shifts, only for hand to be placed against the nape of his neck & sheepishly rub it. ❛ you startled me there for a second, varus. don't sneak up on a guy like that ! ❜ /// @blightbrought
there's no use in seeking to draw ire from man whose armor gave him appearance of a fortress, man whose axe is great than his own head. should opportunity arise, an opportune moment to pester stranger, it shall be graciously taken ! that may only open gates for danger to sneak through, act as looming threat over rakan's person ——— the prospect could be considered terrifying, but he is rakan. he finds it entertaining, knowing himself to be more agile than this fortress man. life is much too short for him to worry about danger sticking to his side ( was it not always there ? was it not something he grew accustomed to ? he does not fear danger's sharp claws digging into his flesh, for it'll never draw out that gory wine it desires so. rakan will escape it every single time. )
❛ that's way too big an axe you got there ! ❜ perchance too excited to make such a bold statement. brows rise in intrigue, a hum emits from throat, elongated as he thoroughly perceives the weapon ... then the facial attributes, as if looking for a sign. has he succeeded ? no ? ❛ are yoooouu ... compensating for something ? ❜ small curve at the corner of his lips. he's far too prepared for this. /// @ofostia
"Nice feathers, Lhotlan. Mind if I have a touch?"
❛ huh ? ❜ stranger's voice falls upon his ears & they twitch in curiosity. first, this isn't anyone he recognizes —— perhaps that's obvious from the way he's being addressed. ' lhotlan. ' not many he knows address him as such. it's enough to cause him to turn around, quirk his brow at stranger & scrutinize every aspect of him : brown fur, sharp teeth, some patched of red near the top of his head ... ? is that what that is ? he's not too certain, but his eyes would never lie to him !
❛ took an interest in my feathers, didn't you ? what can i say, i'm the embodiment of beauty ! ❜ vain, isn't he ? but how could he not be ? none had feathers more beauteous than his, none had the unique orange hues that melted into yellows & mixed into green & yellows. none had that same glimmer his had ; yes, rakan's quills could be desired by many, albeit he would never relinquish such a gift he's been granted ! beauty is in the eye of the beholder, though objective beauty is dictated by nature, & it has chosen him to be that objective beauty, it disproves that underlying assumption of subjective beauty. ❛ don't normally let just anyone touch, but i guess i'll make an exception ! ❜ /// @shuriman-thief
lies & deceit truly will guide him to some of the most peculiar of adventures. previous ones were short - lived, involved nothing but a little bit of walking, perhaps sneaking into somewhere, enjoy the moment, all familiar jazz he's dealt with before. only few ever lasted longer than those brief trips. one, in particular, had him crossing over a city or two. no problem for him ! but this ? this is on a grander scale than his previous adventures. he's set off to wander ionia, almost top to bottom to fulfill promise of unbinding him from his bow. that promise held not a speck of truth. but oh, at least he can talk without fearing that death is looming over him, or rather, shooting deadly arrows his direction.
❛ so ... ❜ there's a hum, & he's wondering what type of conversation they could have. something to fill the awkward silence between them. ❛ you're how many years old ? i know this is the 5th time i've asked, but i just need to make sure you aren't pulling my leg here ! ❜ /// @blightbrought
Dont mind her , standing on the tips of her toes ! JUST to try and be taller than him though its all fun & games ! Swaying her nine tails as if they were a cloak of feathers she appeared to be impersonating him ever so slightly .
kumiho's solid attempt at matching vastaya's height could be considered adorable, endearing, & to an extent, enchanting & charming. was that not her goal, though ? to charm him & lull him into faux security, his down fall were his guard to be let down so easily. is this her true intent ? possibly so. does he consider such a dire possibility ? no. joy's grin curves at rakan's lips, features brighten up & an amused chuckle escapes him. he's impressed at her attempt to impersonate him. it could use some work, though there's a certain flattery that comes with impersonation.
❛ fox tails for wings, huh ? ❜ hum indicates that he's pondering over it, as if it were a viable idea, albeit surely ... ❛ nope, think my feathers still take the cake ! they shine & glimmer in the sunlight, y'know ? ❜ /// @vuikusen
performer. /// quartlet.
AMBIGUOUS TILL THE LAST, it was his cloak, his skin, his shield, his everything. lingering doubt always wore itself well upon the faces of those who seek to peer in, to gaze until every last droplet is revealed. far better to live as a dream than to live at all. or at least, that is what comforted him, dismal as it may be. khada jhin never performs without reason, though oft times art requires no reason in being, no purpose in merely existing. art is, and so he is. he shall always be, haunting the streets of cobbled houses belonging to a no - name village in zhyun. devils do not seek reason, they seek what they thrive for, and thus he shall exist eternally, eternally, inside the nightmares of all those who have come to know him.
❛ i’m sure you are simply dying to know. ❜ his tone is languid, terribly languid. an undying smile curling artificial lips forevermore until the day it cracks open or it is torn away by bruised fingertips ( he wondered sometimes, if such a time might come to pass, though the dream is quickly dashed by visions of bleeding jaws and threaded necks. they bloom wildly. bursting from bone and blood vessel ; magnificent ). for now, rakan is neither a thorn nor a threat. perhaps he is both though he has not yet pricked at the flesh enough to draw forth the virtuoso’s true ire. what is one fool compared to another ? what is the sun when compared to the yawning darkness ? oh, what wonder.
❛ you will find taking certain precautions might one day save your skin in the long run, dear boy. ❜ his words are meant to burrow beneath, wearing teeth that snap and snicker between twists of petals. everything about khada jhin is a performance. whether or not it is agonising, is yet to be seen, and for the vastayan that day might never come. though he may be swept away by his curiosity all he likes. ❛ best not to tempt fate now, no ? ❜
such a profound level of serenity his voice encompassed, a natural ease — sickeningly so — both in movements & voice, a spark of envy may find itself growing, blooming at the heart of a certain vastaya. it is mystery to him if what ears hear are reality ; more so, is the drawl in voice merely imagination, auditory illusion, or factual perception ? curiosity, once enchanting & pure, begins its conquest of mind. a plague does it become that affects every corner of self ——— nonetheless, glee prevails behind it, hoping to discover what truths may lie behind man enveloped in mystery. despite aching desire to know, he relents & decides to break ice, know first secret ( if one could call it that ) of man behind mask.
❛ lucky for you, i love to tempt fate. ❜ that he does. why else would he remain near evidenty dangerous character ? most would back from treacherous individual, turn tail & return home, to safety's warm embrace, but not him. a taste of danger would usually equate to a taste of entertainment, a taste of fun. successfully evoking ire & annoyance from one who maintained calm demeanor would be a fruitful endeavor. for what reason ? none at all !! it is action without reason, entertainment sought in most peculiar of areas ❛ i'll tempt it right now & ask : what's the name you've got ? either the one that comes with the mask, or the one behind it. i'm game. ❜ yet another shot at attempting to unravel the intricate web of mysteries that lie behind masked killer. smile, smile, for those secrets may not yet be within reach, albeit a stubborn vastaya knows naught of giving up.
& he takes opportunity to allow fate to guide limbs towards front of artisan's path, finally attaining desired destination : a blockage in his path, hoping to garner necessary information to dispel the mystery of name, to elongate conversation. fated stranger, stay a while ! travels may make one dreary & desire respite at vilest hour. come, stick for a chat.
sylas. /// fraying.
𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐄, 𝐀 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑, 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋, 𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐄 … the wolf’s teeth snap around the wings of a bird. it chews through feather and flesh and sinew and bone, the crunch so loud; but the screech, the lark - song of distress, drowns out all growls of hunger and whistling of weeping willows. the wolf leaves the bird with its broken wing alive, for someone else to eat, for wolves do not hunt birds for feed, so all that is left is for sport.
“ tell me about these people of yours. ”
demacia does not hold many vastaya within their ranks, their innate connection to magic making them much too close to the very thing the land detests the most, and thus books of knowledge or gossip of old holds little more power than a candle to the fire sylas desires to start.
he folds a hand beneath chin, resting elbow on knee. golden chains are collected in lap, heavy and familiar and a constant but awful reminder of the burdens placed upon a young boy’s shoulders. sylas blinks slowly, wolf - ish eyes squinting into a glare, and despite the rays partially blinding him the evening sun is pleasantly warm against his skin.
summer in ionia is different than it is in demacia, he muses, for they need not worry about the cold draft brought in from the north.
“ the lhotlan vastaya. i have heard of your wings and naught else. tell me, does everyone participate in the art of battle - dance, or is it just the ostentatious few ? ”
@feyquil / starter call.
BUT OH, MALEVOLENT WOLF WHOSE GAPING MAW bares blood of flightless bird, what is folly if not the half - assed action ? intent not to feed, intent not to sate infinitesimal hunger, it was all for sport, yet only a song of distress escaped nightingale —— what of its swan song ? on his stage ( the stage you have so dared walk on ), such performance is averted from gaze of a predator. fractured wing shall never be graced with flight's song anew, fractured wing must accept fate's cruel truth : deprivation of freedom, deprivation of flight !! oh, dear wolf, finish what is started, for revenge's guiding light shall not mend aching wing, albeit it shall grant tools to return favor ; wolf, wolf, a predator needs not its eyes to hunt.
revolutionary who bears magic with natural ease intrigued him, for tales have been whispered of ( the unshackled wolf, free from the cage that once barred gift of magic — like a bird that sought freedom & found its calling despite its clipped wings ), fear & admiration stirred for one that is at forefront of pivotal rebellion. what is rakan to make of this ? verily, some humans possessed natural affinity for magic, thereby the silencing of this one's gift not too different from his own cause he so voraciously devoted himself to.
a gray area is conjured at the conception of such a thought : whilst their relations clung onto appearance of being amicable, was that truth itself ? is he to doubt one whose aspirations align with his own ? or shall admiration be exhibited through look & actions ? he doesn't know.
perchance it's the cant of his head the denotes initial confusion, only to be cleared up at mage's clarification of his query. though the sun continues to set beyond horizon, its dying rays paving way for glimmering moonlight's rise from opposite direction, rakan's features brighten up with raised brows & momentary open - mouthed smile ( soon closes into regular grin, for those pearly whites may show some form of aggression ——— something he wishes to avoid with his ' guest ' ), they are enough to rival the radiant sun that elates ionia's people. as rakan sits cross - legged, elbows resting on either knee, his posture shifts with intrigue, leaning forward a bit, maybe too eager to talk.
what better is he at than talking, after all ?
❛ not everyone's as great at battle - dancing as i am, that's one thing we've gotta get settled. ❜ much too confident statement delivered without any thought on repercussions of his words. just like him. ❛ not everyone participates in it, not as far as i'm aware. ❜ source of knowledge for his own tribe ? probably not. ❛ i like to think of it as an art. the best art that comes from it are the bodacious ones ! the ones who put heart & into their battle - dancing. you need the flow of battle, the flow of rhythm, & the HEART of magic. ❜ at least, that's what his style has embodied.