sun-scorned

[sun-scorned]

I was and I remade that shitty card I made like two years ago that for some reason still gets praise. Anyway I’m not good at Valenitnes Heartseeker’s Day so I think I can write him pretty much in character. 

[sun-scorned]

gurasuku-onna-oyabun​:

“My parents were… selfless to a fault. Some nights there was no food, other nights there was just enough. And the clinic was kept running through sheer determination, elbow grease- and a bit of luck.” For a moment she was almost nostalgic, despite all of her frustrations with her parents. Despite all the hungry nights, they had left her with a few things that would help her achieve her dreams. But they also left her with some satisfying memories. Renata gently ran her fingers along with her ear, tucking away a loose strand before pulling up her shoulders.

“I am a bit more practical in my business. I enjoy doing good but not when it ends up causing me harm. Some might question my personal expenses but a Zaunite is ALWAYS under scrutiny of others, no matter where they go. I need to keep up a certain appeal if I wish to make Glasc Industries flourish to achieve my goals. And in turn I can be part of the progress that sways the people their opinion about Zaun.” To add to the pride in her words she placed both hands to her bosom, swaying her head gently.

When Rhaast made his warning she went back to her professional side, hands slipping into her pockets as she pulled up her shoulders, eyes closed. While she had plans for Rhaast she would not force him to stay. She was not an idiot who would send her goons to do the impossible, besides he’d be glad to work for her soon enough…

“That is your right. But do contact HR before you decide to stop working for me. We need to fill up the slot you would be occupying so we don’t overwork the others… Besides, you don’t have to buy my purpose: I do. Plenty of people work for income, for the benefits, for the glory, to kill some time- it’s none of my business. So long as people do their work it’s not for me to judge why they decide to work for me.”

With a nudge of her head directed down the street, she began walking. “If you have the time to do some paperwork now, we could have you working tomorrow. Though since we might need to get you a custom-sized uniform you will have to make do with a cloak or sorts for the time being so that others can at least identify you as a Glasc Industries employee. Let’s head this way, there’s a warehouse where I can get some things with you sorted and I’ll take the paperwork with me back to the office with me when we’re through.”

So the answer to ‘how they survived’ was ‘barely’, it seemed. Rhaast definitely understood the importance of making good impressions, even if he wasn’t under nearly the same kind of constant public eye Glasc was. He wasn’t a stranger to high stakes for small mistakes.

Rhaast nodded. It was reassuring that he could bail if need be. The last time he’s had the opportunity to leave and didn’t, it had gone very poorly. “You’re straightforward. I appreciate that. That pragmatism's served you well, I’m sure. As for me, I’m mostly in that last category of not having much else to do.”

On one hand, it was nice to have a break from fighting the things that wanted to devour reality. On the other, Rhaast craved purpose. He needed one to tide him over until his old ‘job’ came calling again.

“A...uniform?” He’d never had one of those before. His torso made that sort of thing kind of difficult. “If you have any that open at the back, that might work.” Rhaast generally went shirtless because his back spines shredded fabric. And other things, as needed.

Rhaast followed. He wasn’t getting snagged away for some far-off crisis, so he decided that meant he had time. “Show me the paperwork. And ideally some kind of large writing implement, too.” He could probably hold a quill between the bases of two fingers, but it was hard to have penmanship beyond ‘atrocious’ when your fingers only had two joints and the last one was a claw.

[sun-scorned]

your friendly neighbourhood frostguard and their trusty steed.

[sun-scorned]

cadavercreator​:

A raw hand reaches for his face, gripping the mantle of Aatrox’s horns as he shook away the unearthing memories and tumbling questions. The Curator and Butcher, was it now? Time had not turned them to dust, then.

“Do you think I had any way of knowing? Of searching them out specifically? What do you think The Scholar would do, would say, to seeing - seeing this?!” The mind of the Darkin was foggy, and straining to think as he knelt there did not help his bubbling emotions. Had Nasus been lost before even their Fall? Or had he… betrayed them?

Hysteria burned behind his eyes, frantically searching for the answers to his unspoken questions. “Nasus? He had abandoned us all after he and his brother stopped the Usurper… No, he made sure they were buried together! And he made himself hidden! How-” Renekton… If he was now free from the tomb he sacrificed himself to… Then where was his fellow cellmate?

No, this was no time to think of the ancient past. There was a battle near on the wind, Aatrox would have to hurry and find it. With Rhaast in tow or not. Even now, his moulded form craved the violence; the gore that could be created. To satiate the continuous engine fueled by blood. Screaming at one another, a fruitless fight to make the smaller one see his mistakes, would take too long and use too much of this fuel.

“Nothing has changed! She sought you out because you are the weakest! The most malleable! The easiest to control! And you have done Nothing to change that fact!” Stomping to his feet and heaving the blade from the crater it had created, Aatrox no longer looked down to Rhaast with his expression twisted in pain and fury. “Play puppet to the Trickster all you want, then! Submit to our enemy! I will solve all of our issues, with or without you!”

“I don’t know! Maybe he’d have some idea how to help!” Nasus was supposed to be wise, and sitting out the Darkin Wars had saved him from death or worse, so he clearly knew what he was doing. And without his tomb guardian project, a lot of failed Ascendants would have died in shame instead of just living in it. “This is the Ascended who gave Baccai like me a way to live. He wouldn’t just reject you because of what somebody else made you become.”

Though for what the God-Killer had done...for what any of them had done, Nasus might very well cast them aside again.

Rhaast knew he could not stop Aatrox. The might and prowess of even a warped, fallen Ascended surpassed his own. He hated this helpless fury. How familiar it was, to see people stronger than him do as they pleased and to know there was nothing he could do about it.

Aatrox was right. Nothing had changed.

“I did what I had to. Is that your excuse, too?”

Rhaast had never felt much of a connection to Aatrox, before...all of this. But they’d both lived through desperation. They’d suffered in the same way. And Aatrox, stubborn prideful Aatrox, was going to keep suffering because he refused to admit that he’d lost. Rhaast shook his head in despair disappointment.

“You can’t. You can’t solve this on your own, Aatrox. They won when we outnumbered them. What chance do you think you stand now?”

[sun-scorned]

Rhaast can hear Lissandra humming, but can’t find any meaning in it. She was probably gathering her thoughts, or working on some faraway spell, or thinking about her ceaseless campaign against the things below the Abyss.

“Well, yes. I was at some point a human. But there wasn’t much noteworthy about that human.” He can’t even remember the name.  “Corrupted? I wasn’t corrupted by the Void, as nice of an excuse as that would be."

Wait, she didn’t mean human. She meant Ascended. Ugh. Not this again. Rhaast growled both at having to repeatedly admit a millennia-old failure to stranger after stranger, and that smirk. Did she know? Did she just want him to say it?

“If you’re talking about Aatrox, he had a lot farther to fall than I did, because I never Ascended.” The tone of the last three words adjusted as they were said through gritted teeth. Enough of this. Subject change.

“You still haven’t said what it is you’re protecting. I know your faction stands guard against the Void. I can’t think of anything unworthy of being protected from that.”

❝ kill for survival, not for indulgence. ❞ (unprompted ask from @tomedreams)

@tomedreams

"See, that's the great thing about killing Voidborn. I can kill for both reasons. I was made for violence, Sovereign of Frost. Look at me. This is not a body made for peace."

Sure, killing only when necessary was a nice principle. And probably would have spared Rhaast a lot of trouble had he followed it. But he had-has-a very clear purpose.

"What do you kill for, then?"

[sun-scorned]

cadavercreator​:

Paying no mind to the pitiful excuses being wailed, the attention of the Darkin snaps to the strange portal apparating. Caught between a grin and a sneer, Aatrox prepared to strike at whatever exited the portal with furious glee. Finally, a chance to slay another-

There wasn’t much in the world that could surprise him anymore. But when that tiny little colourful thing appeared from the magical doorway, everything in his stolen flesh ground to a halt. All except the bubbling disbelief forcing itself up like bile laughter from deep within him. “And you… must be the newest host of Twilight.” Words finally slither out from teeth tightly clenched together after a long pause after the question raised, and promptly ignored.

“It is time you answered for your actions, Trickster! You are responsible for this curse, and for misguiding my ilk!” The accusation explodes from Aaatrox. And his great prison is swung in a great arch right toward the miserable little Aspect host.

No no no this is a bad time for Zoe to be here! Rhaast makes frantic shooing motions that accomplish exactly nothing.

“Aatrox. Put the sword down, Aatrox. That’s not Myisha, it’s a new host and if I can be given a second chance then it’s really only fair that...well. You’re not listening at all, are you?”

Zoe is also in the Not Listening Club, but in a radically different direction.

“Ohhhh you mean that really mean thing someone else did before I was born? Hey, I didn’t say anything that wasn’t technically true! But I don’t know about ilks, I get more goat vibes than elk from -whoa hey!”

She doesn’t so much dodge out of the way as skip, because skipping is more fun. Wow, Aatrox sure can swing that great big meat cleaver awfully fast.

“I was trying to have a conversation, here you big meaty meanie! You’d better stop that or I’ll have to wield my Unfathomable Cosmic Power at you.” She raises her arms above her head and manifests...probably the least threatening purple bubble Aatrox has ever seen. It’s got a little yellow star in it.

[sun-scorned]

gurasuku-onna-oyabun​:

“Excellent! Glasc Industries is happy to have you, really we’ve been growing at such an exponential rate that any new help is more than appreciated. Not to worry, this is a proper job so we can go over your contract and wages when you are available to do so. Since I personally sourced you I will be the one to handle it as well, though I cannot oversee your work so I will introduce you to your manager.” Renata reached into her pocket, pulling out a small leather notebook which she snapped open to scribble something down so that she would not forget. So many things running through her head at all times. She needed a bit of assistance here and there.

Her hues slowly trailed away from the pages and towards Rhaast, a brow furrowed though she was quick to smile with her eyes afterward. “Interested in the origins of Glasc Industries are you? It started with my parents who ran a small clinic, they were insistent on developing an all-cure for all that could possibly ail a person though they sadly failed. They did all of this without ever asking for payment. Being Zaun’s first clinic with free healthcare for all.”

Renata snapped her notebook shut as she tucked it away, able to keep her expression in check as she spoke about something that was rather… difficult, to think back on. “They sadly passed away, leaving me with only the goodwill they had instilled in the community. Which helped me in finding smaller jobs and people who knew people, allowing me to take care of myself without ruining the image my parents had built for themselves.”

“Over the years I amassed enough funds to start my own small company and grew that further and further. When I had enough funds I was reminded of the goodwill my parents had given to Zaun, and how the people had treated me so I, in turn, opened clinics and shelters for the people just as my parents had done.”

Confident, perhaps even a bit cocky she raised her hands. “Now Glasc Industries is the fastest growing business in both Zaun and Piltover, with small start-ups in Demacia, Noxus, Shurima- and more to come.”

That was complicated, but incredibly impressive. “They healed people for free? What about their own needs?” Rhaast had known healers. Plenty of them did charity work, but they had to get the resources for their supplies somehow. How did Glasc’s parents survive if they did everything for free?

It sounded like she struck a more survivable balance herself.

“So you found a legacy worth following. Must be nice.” As opposed to, say, a legacy of pointless slaughter for an Empire that fell to dust. “I can’t say I have a lot of experience in that area, but I’m open to changing that.”

Rhaast’s eyes narrowed a bit at the mention of just how many places Glasc Industries had expanded to. Of course, it make sense for her to want as many customers as possible, but something about that kind of rapid growth seemed...off. How had the company gotten so big so fast?

“One warning, though: I’ve heard the ‘glorious purpose’ pitch before, and I followed blindly. I don’t plan on repeating that mistake. If I find anything shady under this surface of charity, I’m out.” That might have been the mildest threat Rhaast had ever given. But it didn’t feel right to threaten a possibly-innocent person with a gruesome death. And he didn’t know what kind of violence she was capable of in return.

“So when do I start?”

[sun-scorned]

multiiiplicity​:

HIS GRUNT WAS AN IRRITATED ONE, Zed could’ve sworn that if Rhaast didn’t interfere he would stand up perfectly fine on his own. Either that… or he was reaching a delirious state as his condition worsened.

ZED’S BODY SLOWLY RELAXED IN RHAAST’S ARMS, the red glow dying out, the neons getting sucked into his black pupils leaving his orange hues to roll all the way back in their sockets while they have remained open. Zed was afraid that if he was to close them down, he would fall asleep.

AND THERE WAS NO GUARANTEE HE WOULD WAKE BACK UP.

“You don’t even know me…” He rasped. Perhaps it was such a difficult concept to grasp because of his state. But something within him ached, to hear this voice not recognize him. “I’m Zed. Zed, the Master of Shadows…” A cough, followed by a grimace as the pain spread through his chest. “I need to get to Valoran, to Demacia. I must finish my journey before getting back home to Ionia.”

“I don’t have to know you, Zed. All I have to know is you were being tortured, and I was able to do something about it.” Okay, so he was Ionian, but needed to visit Valoran for some reason. Maybe the shadowy flesh and bizarre eyes were manifestations of some magical curse, and he needed Demacia to nullify it.

“Demacia? That sounds like an incredibly long journey.”

Rhaast looked to the sides as far as he could without moving his head. Nothing happened. “I SAID, that sounds like an INCREDIBLY LONG JOURNEY.”

Darn. Looked like unfathomable cosmic motives weren’t going to give him a portal just yet. No justifiable bloodshed, no easy exits...ugh, what a pain. On the plus side, nothing interesting meant nothing trying to kill the half-dead Zed.

“We’ll have to walk. Not right now, you can’t. But in general, to get to Demacia.”

Rhaast could have sworn he’d heard Demacia hated Noxus. Maybe Zed could get enough sympathy for easier passage once they’d entered the region...eventually.

“How good is your grip? Because I plan on leaving through a different window than the one I used to come in, and I’ll need all my limbs to climb back down.”

[sun-scorned]

[sun-scorned]

gurasuku-onna-oyabun​:

Rhaast wasn’t the only surprised one. Renata failed to hide the surprise in her eyes, grateful that her mask covered most of her face so she could play it off as something else. Not to mention she was quick to accommodate the new change in conversation, she would not be a businesswoman otherwise. “Various things.” Not what she expected but the conversation kept going and she would take what she could get.

Renata pulled up one of her hands, balled it into a fist before popping out a finger at each item she named. “Make-up, first aid supplies, perfume- lots of perfume, beauty salves, hair lotions.” Then balled it back into a fist and repeated the process. “Eye drops, tonics, beverages, tinctures, soaps, oils, body scrubs…” She didn’t do the process again, instead waving her hand to dismiss the massive list as it would keep them both standing here for hours. “Everything that is manufactured by Glasc Industries. You could oversee documents or simply help pack the goods, maybe even help the others move the packages to different allocated warehouses or Glasc storefronts. Or perhaps supplies to some of our sponsored shelters and clinics.”

She could always try and persuade him to work in the field she wanted to, but it was a foot in the door and that was the first step. “Crates, boxes, nothing nefarious I can assure you. Glasc Industires might be the biggest name in Zaun and rapidly growing throughout Piltover and various other regions but our roots began in serving the people and we have not forgotten that.” 

Those all sounded harmless enough. And impressive that she could just list them all of the top of her head. Clearly, Renata Glasc knew her stuff. Glasc could still be, you know, lying, but Rhaast would deal with that problem when he got to it, if it existed. There was nothing stopping him from just leaving, after all.

"Moving the goods sounds like something I could do.” That would let him branch out a little from slaughter without going too far off-based. This would still be physical work. Rhaast had a reasonable shot at not screwing it up.

Glasc sure brought up the company’s origins a lot. Which Rhaast realized might be a hint that she wanted to talk about it more. Well, he needed to know about it more, so that worked out pretty well for both of them.

“So how did you start, then? I’m not familiar with... the current Zaun.”

[sun-scorned]

multiiiplicity​:

ORANGE HUES DANCED AROUND THE LARGE FORM, staring at him as he announced his challenge. A weak scoff escaped Zed but he was not one to back down, too proud and with too many things to prove both to himself and his surroundings.

SO HE PLACED HIS PALMS DOWN ON THE FLOOR, PUSHING HIMSELF ON HIS KNEES. He sucked in a deep breath as he glared at the chains dangling off his wrists and the leash, thinking all the way back home. The people who waited him to return, and the tasks he was yet to finish.

HE HAD TO GET UP.

‘ N O W ! ‘

AN UNNATURALLY RED COLOR TOOK OVER HIS EYES, FOLLOWED BY GROWLS THAT WERE ALMOST INHUMAN. Zed grit his teeth, sucked in another breath, and planted a foot down on the concrete floor. Another moment was required before he fully stood, wobbling a bit in his place in an attempt to remain upright.

IF ONLY HE COULD KEEP THIS UP…

INSTEAD, HIS HEAD WAS SPINNING, AND HE STUMBLED…

Rhaast lunged to catch the prisoner before he re-introduced himself to the floor. In retrospect, he probably should have seen that coming.

“That sounded like it took way too much effort. You clearly can’t get out of here on your own, so I’m carrying you until we can get to...where were you before you were here?”

The man looked Ionian, but Ionia was a pretty big place. Rhaast wanted to narrow it down.

“All right, let’s leave. I sure hope no one heavily armed tries to stop us. It would be a shame if I had to use violen-I mean force, for legitimate self-defense reasons.”

[sun-scorned]

renata’s first encounter line with viktor has me shaking 

[sun-scorned]

multiiiplicity​:

INJURIES INFLAMED AND TENDER FLESH SEARING AS HE WAS HELD CLOSE, but Zed made no sound as he closed his eyes at the gesture. The right shoulder made a popping sound when the shackles were brought down, allowing his joint to have a break from straining. His entire body felt lighter from this single gesture - the albino exhaling in relief regardless of the pain he felt everywhere else.

PERHAPS THIS WAS SHOCK.

“I said you need to run, not worry about M E . “ Zed strained to talk, his expression turning to a grimace as he forced the words out of him. He scolded the other as if he were his son, albeit knowing he was someone else. A tongue came out to lick dry, swollen lips as his eyes tried correcting themselves on Rhaast’s features.

“I can get out of here on my own.” He was a bad liar. Zed didn’t like lying - he avoided it when he could. It was a dishonorable action; but there was no forgiving himself if that man would get hurt.

IT DIDN’T MATTER THEY KNEW NOT EACH OTHER.

IT ONLY MATTERED WHO HE RESEMBLED TO HIM AT THAT TIME.

HOME.

Rhaast was more than capable of running and worrying at the same time thank-wait how did this man know his name? Was he really that well-known after so many centuries?

Mhmm. Sure the prisoner could get out on his own. That’s why he could barely look in the same direction for a few seconds. Real testament to his peak physical condition, right there. Rhaast leaned on the wall, uncaring of the bits of it his shoulder plate was scraping off.

“All right, prove it. Stand up under your own power. And then follow me, because if I have to get out of here anyway, there’s no reason not to bring you with me.”

[sun-scorned]

gurasuku-onna-oyabun​:

“A pleasure, Rhaast. Thank you for hearing me out.” Tucking both hands into her pockets she stood as tall as she could without looking like a fool. A relaxed posture with a subtle opening in her demeanor. “That depends on the work you are looking to do. At Glasc Industries we can always use more people. Our growth is exponential, and we keep branching out into various new ventures as well as have our roots set in public service.”

“Now I’m not a woman who judges someone based on their appearance. So I won’t do something as crude as offering you a job in security. Perhaps you’d be more interested in helping people. Or try out our latest products, help with the shipping and distribution? It might be difficult but I’m certain my people could tailor a Glasc uniform to your size if you ever wish to work in a storefront.” She knew where she would like him, but as always the persona at the forefront had to take precedent.

“Everyone has potential, but potential is not all that matters. What matters most: is ambition. Suppose you took my offer, where would you like to work, Rhaast?”

Rhaast blinked in surprise. A wha-she wanted-...she was letting Rhaast choose? A uniform-no, that didn’t sound right. That sort of thing was for people who weren’t him. The public service angle sounded interesting, in a long-overdue-atonement kind of way. Indirectly.

It was nice that she wasn’t immediately assigning him to security, but Rhaast...didn’t really have much of a skillset outside of the violence he was built for. Maybe shipping and distribution? As long as he didn’t have to hold anything too delicate, that could work. He tried to mirror her posture, or at least stand up straight instead of his usual I’m-taller-than-everyone slouch.

“I do already have a job, but...it’s technically part-time. What exactly would I be shipping or distributing? If that was what I did?”

[sun-scorned]

Rhaast initially didn’t know why Zoe had brought him to Noxus. There wasn’t anything in dire need of killing there. Looking at the sight before him, though, he got the impression some candidates would show up very soon.

Rhaast knew full well he wasn’t some paragon of virtue, but he’d never tortured anyone because no one had ever told him to.Still, after being on the receiving end of it for 1400-and-change years, he wasn’t a fan. Was it hypocritical of him to want to find the perpetrator and tear them to bits? Well, that was an issue for later.

Rhaast was tempted to just slice through the shackles, pick up the prisoner, and book it, but he honestly wasn’t sure how badly the fall would affect someone with pieces missing.

“I’m going to have to hold onto you for this, and it’s definitely going to hurt, but probably less than anything you’ve gone through recently.”

With that warning, he wrapped one arm around the Ionian’s torso (Rhaast couldn’t just grab with his hands; they were too sharp to handle bare skin), grabbed the shackles with his other hand, and pulled until they were no longer attached to the wall. Then he lowered the man to the ground.

“Can you stand, or am I carrying you out of the city?”

“ R … R - R H A A S T … “

THE ALBINO WAS HANGING FROM THE CEILING, WRISTS BOUND ABOVE HIS HEAD WITH SHACKLES. All the strength that remained in his body went for his attempts to keep standing on the tips of his toes, lest his wrists and shoulders dislocate.

SO MANY TIMES HE ESCAPED THIS CELL. For months now, Zed would get recaptured for interrogation and then make an escape again in an attempt to flee Noxus through Valoran only to get lost. He was unfamiliar with the place, unfamiliar with the language, with the architecture, and with the people.

BUT HE HELD ON.

NOT A SINGLE ANSWER TO THE COUNCIL WAS GRANTED, no matter the question asked. No matter how obvious and H A R M L E S S giving them the answer would be. Zed refused to G I V E to the Noxians and so they T O O K away instead.

THE TIPS OF HIS FINGERS, BLOODY. His nails were cleanly torn off by Vision’s claw and there were pieces of tattooed flesh missing, revealing live meat with the Tear’s marking beneath - for the ink etched itself and seeped all the way down to Zed’s bones. The scars on his wrists left from Tuula’s imprisonment were irritated and sliced into, the metal confining him becoming slick and wet with his blood. His eyes were swollen and puffy, the dark circles under his eyes from the Tear’s eternal nightmares haunting him were now nearly completely black, and the eyelids were redder than the albino’s usual look from his excessive crying over the last few days.

HE WAS CRYING FOR NO OTHER REASON THAN THE FACT THAT THE NOXIAN’S ACTIONS BROUGHT HIM TO AN ENTIRE NEW PLACE AND STATE OF MIND AT TIMES.

ZED WOULD FORGET WHERE HE WAS AND WHO HE WERE - D I S S O C I A T E , SHEN CALLED IT ONCE - AND BECOME CONFUSED AND SCARED BEYOND HIS COMPREHENSION LATER WHEN HE’S COME TO.

ZED COUGHED, THEN GURGLED, collecting blood and snot and mucus before he spat it all aside by his trembling. His W H O L E body shook, in fact, but he was trying to ignore the problem rather than do something about it. All if his attention was devoted to the tall Darkin before him -

ONLY THAT EVEN IN HIS BATTERED STATE - BLACK AND PURPLE SPOTS OVERLAP WITH CUTS AND LASHES, Zed could tell that this was not the Rhaast he knew. Pale brows darkened by crimson ichor knitted together to frown as his eyes darted around the other’s form. It was a C H O R E to try and keep his eyes locked to one spot, for they always tried to dash around or roll backwards and close down, but Zed forced himself to try and keep them on Rhaast’s form.

THIS WAS NOT HIS SON, THE DARKIN, but Zed felt at ease when his eyes skimmed over the man’s features. Some would call his face gnarly, some would run away and scream “ D E M O N “  - however Zed came to recognize this as the face of his thousands of years, deadlier and wiser little son figure.

EVEN IF THIS WASN’T HIM, ZED HOPED THIS RHAAST BORE NO ILL INTENTION TOWARDS HIM. HE’S HOPED THEY WERE ON GOOD TERMS.

THAT’S WHAT HE REMEMBERED, AT LEAST.

“Rha…ast… R U N … Please… Please don’t get caught.” His voice trembled.

@sun-scorned​

[sun-scorned]

(They also, for better or worse, gave us Kekusho.)

You can diss the comics all you want, but it gave us this panel.

[sun-scorned]