#it’s not like there’s anything dangerous in Bandle right?

[captain-teemo-locked-and-loaded]

Jr. Scout Adventure

Part 1

Teemo had been around for a while, and had seen a lot of changes made to Bandle over the course of his life. Changes were made to the Scouts too. There were kids now, for one.

He deeply disapproved of the Jr Scouts program, not because it was a military program aimed at children, or because it could very easily lead to said children getting hurt, but because it meant Teemo would have to deal with children.

Regular grown up people were unpleasant enough, but children were irrational, unpredictable, and generally disgusting.

It was a nice day in Bandle City, with weather that was warm but also breezy and a robin’s egg blue sky with fat white clouds scooting heartily across it above. Teemo smiled warmly at the group of three Jr Scouts that were lined up in front of him, all looking up at him with such obvious hero worship it made him want to burst out laughing. Kids were stupid, but at least they were easy to manipulate.

“I’m told you did well on your last assignment, Jr Scouts,” he told them seriously and the three of them looked like they might explode with pride.

“We always do our very best, sir!” declared the leader of the Jr Scout patrol, the girl with the glasses. Teemo didn’t sigh, but the enthusiasm made him tired.

“That is the Scout way,” he said instead, nodding, “but your success means you need a new assignment.”

The three young yordles looked up at him with huge eyes and Glasses even started bouncing on her heels. Teemo smiled at them again instead of sighing or rolling his eyes. The task he was going to give them was menial at best, but they were children, so that described pretty much all the tasks they were given.

Teemo produced a sheet of paper, ostensibly a page from his journal, although in actuality it was a copy he had made for this. He wasn’t in the habit of ripping pages out of his journal. On it was a list of plants and other ingredients needed to make a sleep concoction that he sometimes used in darts when he had been ordered to go non-lethal, as well as the longitude and latitude of where to find them in the forest that surrounded Bandle. Technically he grew all of them in his greenhouse and didn’t need anyone to go get them for him, but the kids needed something to do.

He handed Glasses the list and explained their task. “Find me all these ingredients. Use your map and compass to reach each location and your field guides to identify each ingredient correctly, do not eat any of these plants, they’ll make you sick if you do.” Better safe than sorry, he figured. None of the plants were lethally toxic, but they could cause vomiting and such and Teemo wasn’t keen on getting yelled at because he didn’t warn them.

“We’ll get them all, Captain! You can count on us!” cried Glasses, and the other two yordlelings agreed fiercely.

“Good, I’ll count on you to do it then,” Teemo gave them all a stern look, “Remember to watch out for traps and other hazards. No landscape is without danger, remember that.”

“Yes sir!” The three cried in unison.

“Good,” Teemo replied with a nod, “Then off you go, you have three days.”

The kids didn’t need telling twice and with a chorus of ‘yes sir’ they saluted and then ran off.

Teemo sighed just a little and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What’s this?” said Tristana who had been not so inconspicuously listening in from where she sat on a crate nearby cleaning her weapon, “The great Captain Teemo, tired out by a couple kids?”

Teemo gave her a wan smile, “They’re rambunctious,” he told her and she laughed.

“They love you, T,” Tristana replied with a huge amused grin, “Just keep smiling at them and say ‘good job’ now and then and they’ll worship the ground you walk on. No worries.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Teemo told her dryly. She clicked her tongue and gave him a pair of finger guns before getting back to her Boomer Cannon.

Teemo left to go do some actual work and put the kids out of his mind.

Two days later their parents reported that the three Jr Scouts hadn’t come home.

[ardent-apprentice]

Sol, The Ardent Apprentice

A short story by:  Ominous_The_Unknown

I

In the magical world of Runeterra, mountains move, forests come alive, the dead assault the living, and reality sometimes fractures to give a brief glimpse to the horrible Void beyond. But even though the arcane energies course through all the nations, there is no other place quite as whimsical like Bandle City, the central hub of Yordle life. Across the lands, these short creatures are seen in a multitude of different perspectives. Forest fae-folk, mischievous imps, urban legends, valiant warriors, and heinous villains, Yordles always seem to be synonymous with some kind of outstanding trait that makes them outstanding in their own right. 

During their early, formative years, young Yordles quickly come to find what makes them unique from one another and once they do, they soon set themselves down the path to honing their skills to try and become the best in their craft. Of course, not every Yordle specialized in entirely different things. It was common for some to be gifted a knack for tinkering and invention much like the great minds of Heimerdinger, Rumble or Ziggs. Others were given more physical, combative skills like Tristana or Teemo. And of course, there was the occasional magic user like Lulu. But what happens when your talent doesn’t manifest when it should? What happens when the people around you develop some kind of magnificent skill when you are left with nothing?

Sol was forced to ask himself this question many times over when he realized that the other young Yordles around him were attaining their unique abilities whereas he had none. In the beginning, he was assured that he would find his niche soon enough, but time passed and he still found himself left in the dust. He would watch as others were able to conjure small balls of energy, create phantasmal elemental displays, briefly summon ethereal aurora-like creatures, or even infuse machines to give them extra vigor. It wasn’t long before the older Yordles decided to properly study him. A few of the more astute researchers of the city came together and performed a few tests on him, hoping to find the answer.

Then, to Sol’s horror, he was finally given the bad news.

Unlike the others, the charcoal gray yordle was magically inept and lacked a mana pool to draw the necessary arcane energies do anything noteworthy. At that very moment, it was as if the weight of Mount Targon was set upon the Yordle’s heart. The information was a curse that forced Sol to watch helplessly as his close friends became apprentices to some of Bandle City’s champions while he was subjected to a mundane and unfulfilling life. Even at a young age, Sol felt that his dreams of becoming some well known Yordle had been destroyed. He grappled with the idea for a while and in the end, he outright refused to accept it. 

Bitterness and envy slowly slithered into the young Yordle’s heart, poisoning him ever so slightly, but instead of letting it destroy him, Sol used it to push onwards. Soon it became apparent that what Sol lacked in magical prowess, he made up for in tenacity, boldness, and creativity. Bullies would, of course, try to take advantage of him or tease him as they flaunted their skills in front of him. The name-calling, the minor physical altercations, the laughter, it stung, but Sol relied on the fact that they underestimated him so that he could beat them at their own games. 

If anything, his newfound strength despite his lack of mana actually made him stand out more because he would do everything in his power to ensure that no one looked down on him. He refused to sulk, he refused pity, and above all else, he sought to break the fate that had been cruelly handed to him. Within the Yordle, a sort of bullheaded attitude emerged as he sought to absorb as much information as possible to see if anything triggered some latent talent hidden within. Archery, crafting, smithing, politics, Sol would attempt to learn everything. Even when he didn’t become a master at it, he at least came away with some experience. Ultimately, this meant that Sol became known as a jack-of-all-trades. 

But once Sol became an adolescent, he realized that his accumulated skills still weren’t enough. Instead of continuing to study within the small confines of Bandle City. the abnormal Yordle made the decision to explore the world. Many people within the city knew that it was possible and that even some of the more famous Yordles had survived to become rather huge stars in other cities, but it was still a risky decision. The elders of the city said he was a fool and that without forging his own unique talent that he would quickly die without any ability to protect himself, but Sol’s close friends knew that because of his myriad of skills that he would forge his own path. 

The young Yordle quickly assembled enough equipment and other necessities and bid a fond farewell to Bandle City and its inhabitants before he journeyed outwards. He would find new mentors, make new friends and discover what was truly hidden deep within him. 

---------------------------------------------

II

There were many limitations to being a Yordle. In some places they were seen as normal living beings with rights, others they were a myth and in a select few they were abhorred and either cast out like plague bearers or maybe even attacked on sight. With that in mind, there were unwritten rules for traveling abroad as a Yordle.

The first and probably most important rule is to never reveal oneself as a Yordle. Information travels slowly through Runeterra, and even though some progressive regions accepted all races that was not the case for the majority of the world. To socialize, most traveling Yordles were often given a magical glamour that would simply disguise them as short humans. There were some fringe cases of course, like the valiant Poppy, deranged Kled and estranged Lulu, but that was mostly because they were more than capable of defending themselves if they were ever threatened with violence. For other Yordles, physical altercations were best avoided.

Even with a rather large list of practical skills, without magical energy Sol’s friends and family knew that it would be best if he traveled prepared. Before departing, Sol was gifted an enchanted pendant that could accomplish such a task, but he soon discovered that his mana deficiency would cause issues. The glamour itself very slowly used up the wearer’s mana when being used, and in most cases, a regular Yordle could wear it for as long as they wanted since they would regenerate the energy just as fast as it was being depleted. So in Sol’s case, he could only activate the pendant for a few days before his body ran out of mana to power it, then he would have to travel as his regular fuzzy, self to recharge. There were many instances where that proved to be a huge disadvantage, but during his adventure, he just learned ways to work around it. 

Along with the stigma against his species, Sol also began to interact with various living creatures in the world. Some were warm and kind, others brave warriors filled with courage and honor, while a select few had bitterness and anger brewing within them. The growing Yordle had to observe and catalog every interaction as he started to develop his own set of rules to operate by when he revisited certain locations. His tome of rules slowly grew over time and he would openly share them with fellow Yordles that he happened to come across during his travels, for example:

 Never challenge a Noxian. Their hardy nature makes them competitive and their bloodthirsty traits mean it won’t take much until they lose their temper and draw a weapon.

If a Bilgewater pirate questions if you’re a Yordle, tell them you’re just small hairy and that they’re too drunk to tell. Also, always keep a few golden krakens with you whether you believe in their superstition or not, it may just save your life.

No matter how furry you are, always wear warm layers when traveling in Freljord and try to stay dry. Wet fur can turn into solid chunks of ice if you’re not careful.

STAY AWAY FROM THE SHADOW ISLES AT ALL COSTS

When in Piltover or Zaun, try to wear a magical glamour or at the very least wear a disguise. Both places demonize Yordles and have even imprisoned them. 

Piltover is nice, but there are many flashy hypocrites there who don’t know what they’re doing. However, you can always go to Heimerdinger at his laboratory for a safe haven since he’s a well-known researcher there. 

Zaun is dangerous for a litany of reasons, like roving madmen, and a bloodthirsty chimera wolf-thing and just rampant lawlessness. Also, be careful of friendly fire when traveling in Zaun, Ziggs is known to go crazy there from time to time. 

Sol’s notebook was starting to become an epic in its own right as it documented his travels day by day, carried numerous errata and inserted trinkets and drawings. His accumulated skills also made him a rather valuable asset in most situations as he was able to make himself useful in dire situations. Despite his short stature, Sol was able to repair a ship’s sail during a storm, cook meals for the less fortunate, and even help build makeshift shelters. Even though he wasn’t exactly perfect at the job, the mere fact that he would always volunteer to help and put himself out on the field made him very likable.  

He found himself partaking in many different adventures as he followed his heart and traveled all around the world. Sol had spent some time helping on a fishing boat, infiltrating bandit camps to save captured Yordles or even cavorting in ancient ruins to find treasure or long lost secrets. If anything, the exploration of it all appealed to him the most and he loved to dig deep into the history of long dead people and inspect the artifacts that they left behind. When he sometimes came into contact with ancient relics, they would flicker or light up as the energies bound within them were somehow stirred to life, but strangely enough, when he handed those very same items to his compatriots, the object would go silent. Sol would also discover old scrolls or books written in dead languages, but just after studying the strange iconography and hieroglyphs, he seemed to understand what they meant and in some cases could even pronounce them. Sol just attributed this to his litany of skills that he had built up though and didn’t think much of it. He never bothered to inspect the magical items further, since he knew that his minuscule amount of mana would never unlock the secrets within them.   

During one period, Sol had discovered a faded map of some ancient civilization in a nearby forest. He spent a week studying the language printed on it by reviewing what information he had and he deduced that there must be some kind of treasure hidden within. Sol gathered his belongings and started to move headstrong into the brush before he finally came upon his destination in a matter of two days. Using his uncanny ability to read the hieroglyphs and understand the ornate designs of the art on the walls, the charcoal black Yordle was able to avoid or even disarm most of the traps laid within the ruins before he finally discovered a hidden room with old leather-bound tome displayed on a plinth.  

Even though Sol was unsure of the book’s origin, he could at least surmise that it was important and the instant he set his hands on it, multicolored energy cascaded out of it in an aurora-like tornado. The book opened as light poured out of its pages and wisps of power trailed out into the world beyond. As the pages rapidly flipped in front of him, the Yordle looked on with confused awe as he realized that he was somehow barely reading the words as they flew past him. His lips began to move on their own as the energy within the pages abated and appeared to listen. But even then it was still too much. 

Sol had no idea how it was possible, but he could feel the energy pulsing through his veins before it started to become a searing hot pain that radiated through his arms and into his chest. The dark gray Yordle found himself unable to let go of the book, which brought a fresh wave of panic over him. He could feel his very life essence getting immolated from within as the foreign energies burnt to brightly inside of him. 

As he was about to pass out from the pain born of the immense power another aura entered the room. For a brief moment, a dark purple and green energy appeared before a bolt of arcane power shot out of the darkness and collided with the book in his hands. The force of the blast was enough to blast the book out of Sol’s hands before it spiraled away as a burning heap. Sol crumpled to the ground, chest heaving and his vision blurring as he barely registered a figure approaching him.

Clad in dark purple garb with a large wizard’s cap atop his midnight black fur, the infamous Yordle Veigar came forward and looked down at the fallen adventurer. Before Sol could speak though, the world around him faded to black as he slipped into unconsciousness. 

----------------------

III

By the time Sol woke up, he found himself in a candle-lit abode somewhere within some kind of intricate cave system. His body ached but he was at least thankful he could still move. He lay atop a creaky old bed, with some decrepit bookcases and drawers to act as furniture. Everything seemed to be secondhand, scavenged and mismatched, and yet whoever assembled everything at least took the time to clean the dust away somewhat. He could remember an infinite well of power being poured into his body. So much power that it was actually agonizing. 

Without any introduction, Veigar began to berate Sol for how foolish he was being. The dark master of evil wasted no time in explaining how the tome was cleverly hidden trap meant to entice any curious magic user into coming into contact with it all for the sake of burning them from the inside out. He then expounded that if it wasn’t for him, Sol would’ve been turned into a pile of ashes on the ruin floor. 

The only reason why Veigar had decided to intervene was that he noticed something strange about the trap that Sol had sprung. He explained that the book worked by manipulating a person’s innate mana pool to disrupt the inner balance within it. What he found interesting was that Sol didn’t explode as he thought he would and instead somehow started to read the text even though it was a long-dead language. Veigar then immediately began to question Sol’s identity and how he was able to not only read but speak the dead tongue but to his surprise, the dark gray Yordle could offer no solid answer.

“I just have a knack for it I guess.” Was Sol’s answer as he gave a nervous chuckle.

His answer only made Veigar raise an eyebrow skeptically before he let out an irritated sigh and reached into his coat. He then withdrew what looked like an old bone with odd letters scryed into it before he tossed it carelessly at Sol. The injured Yordle yelped as he just barely managed to catch it but the instant he saw the letters the gears began to turn in his head. It was another dialect vastly different from the ones he had seen in the book previously and yet there was some odd feeling of familiarity to them. Before Sol could ask what it was, Veigar also took out his short staff and began to focus malicious power into it. The Tiny Master of Evil then pointed the empowered end of the staff at Sol’s face before he demanded that he read the letters. 

Panic immediately consumed Sol as his eyes widened and he assured Veigar that he just had a faint clue as to what the letters meant, but he could already see that the pitch black Yordle did not believe him. Sol could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest as the heat from Veigar’s magic staff brushed against his fur. He knew that reasoning wouldn’t work, so Sol looked down at the ancient bone and did his best to try and divine the meaning behind the letters. 

To his surprise, everything began to click for the charcoal gray Yordle as it seemed like the ancient inscriptions somehow morphed into the words and letters that he was familiar with. Unsure as to how it was possible, Sol didn’t care and simply began to recite the words on the bone, hoping that it would appease his captive. The more Sol spoke, the candles in the room began to burn brighter before they shifted into a lavender hue. He continued to read the words before Veigar finally snatched it out of his hands and snickered. 

Scared and confused, Sol asked the mage what just happened as Veigar just smirked at him. He was able to somehow divine the meaning behind dead languages before, but what he had done was on an entirely different level. Veigar then explained that somehow, someway, Sol’s innate trait was the ability to read and tap into the magic trapped within ancient artifacts. His lack of a large mana pool actually made him the perfect conduit for oddities and enchanted items to flow and mesh with him. 

To further prove his point, the pitch black Yordle went over to one of the nearby shelves and carelessly pulled out of the book before he threw it at Sol. He explained that many of the books that he had procured over the years were magical in nature and most were inscribed in foreign languages both living and dead. Sol gingerly opened the book up to a random page and to his surprise, he could understand the words in there as well. Next, Veigar took what looked like an orb of polished onyx and handed it to Sol. From what the mage knew, information within the book could unlock the true potential of the artifact and he asked that Sol read a passage to see if anything happened. 

Nervous, but now somehow energized at realizing his dormant talent, Sol carefully read the text before he slowly began to say the words. As he did, the orb began to vibrate and emit a low hum until it started to float. 

Giddy smiles spread across both Sol and Veigar’s face at the sight of the activated artifact before the black furred Yordle crossed his arms. He then gave Sol the opportunity of a lifetime by asking if he wanted to become his apprentice and help unlock and master the magic-infused within all of the items that he discovered. Feeling that he already owed the mage a debt for saving his life, Sol gladly accepted the offer and soon his real work began.

Once he was fully healed, Sol would spend hours pouring over books, scrolls, and engraved tablets while at the same time handling and coaxing the magic out of ancient artifacts and weapons. To both his and Veigar’s surprise, he was able to unlock their true potential fairly easily as the dead languages flowed from his mouth and further accelerated his learning. Sol’s arsenal of artifacts soon grew over the years as he and Veigar traveled around, collecting items and deciphering old script as the charcoal gray Yordle was perfectly content with being a lexicon of antiquated knowledge. 

[dealerthespade-blog]

What are Dealer's opinions on the various regions of Runeterra? Are there any in particular he likes or dislikes? Does he 'meddle' in any current or past affairs?

Drabble Requests|| Accepting

Demacia: Dealer shrugged his shoulders in a gesture of colossal lack of enthusiasm. "Not exactly my favorite place to visit given that I'm a being of unmistakably magical origin, but there's a certain charm to a few of the people there." A state bathed in conflict as much as their rival Noxus that hasn't devolved into infighting and political cannibalism. There's a tenacity there that he can't help but like, especially in young Miss Crownguard and Fiora Laurent. People like Garen, Jarvan, Xin, and Quinn would likely find they start at odds with him given their positions in state or on the matter of magic, but with time the interaction could grow into something much more friendly after Dealer's more fatherly side makes itself known. All of them have something they hold in high regard, and like a proud parent he would likely guide them along toward as much success and happiness as they were willing to work for. Most interesting to consider are Vayne and Lucian, with obvious stress from Dealer's demonic nature. Whether or not they accept him as a benevolent force would result in some very different threads for each iteration of the muses.

Noxus: "Jericho and his batch of revolutionaries are certainly an exciting bunch." Noxus is likely his favorite region of Runeterra. The people are strong and fierce, and that ferocity often pours over into passion. For others, for battle, for glory, or blood, each of the important denizens pour everything of themselves into a cause and Dealer eats it up by the shovelful. Naturally Swain and LeBlanc, being tied to immortal and powerful entities, are points of particular interest for him, but the Blood Brothers and the DuCouteau family let him look into the dynamics of bonding in Noxian culture so they're all likely to be visited.

Piltover: "The City of Progress. So long as you speak the right language and with the right accent." Science takes issue with Dealer on a fundamental level, and it pleases him to no end to bend the rules in front of those who swear by it. Jayce, Ezreal, and Caitlyn would all be strained in just being around him, but not in a way that was necessarily negative. He's just a huge fly in the face of what they consider absolute truth, and what's worse is he's seemingly making more and more sense with prolonged exposure. One thing is absolutely sure, however, and that's the fact that he's a huge fan of the one girl wrecking crew. Vi is head and body kinds of strong, with an ironclad will and the confidence to get shit done with them. She may not know it, but God is already very much in her corner.

Zaun: "A damn shame, really. But, as always, the chaos stirred up the stagnant mess to bring a few gems into the light." Without a shadow of a doubt favored over Piltover. He doesn't have to concern himself with environmental hazards or the dangerous people, so he's free to peruse the unique strands of fate that have interlaced themselves with the fallen city. It's something of a callback to his original home and how so many cultures and walks of life pooled together out of necessity. It's like making art from poverty to him, and Zaun is full of such masterpieces who were polished and cut on the sharp rocks of tragedy. People who decided they wouldn't break, but instead be strong. When Dealer walks the streets of Zaun it is in a wake of clean air, and he always has food and drink for the thirsty and starving.

Bilgewater: "Ah, the wind, the sea, and the giant fucking sea monsters!" He's making a very emphatic ok hand gesture and clicking hit tongue about the monsters. Goddammit Dealer. Another region where people do what they do and tell people who try to stop them to fuck off. Or kill them, and sometimes it's harder to tell if the latter is more likely in Bilgewater or Noxus. The people here are rough, there are bars and ships everywhere, and blood is as common a smell as gunpowder. 9/10 his second favorite region.

Shadow Isles: "I bet people thought this would be my favorite region, but it's so far down on the list." It's true, I know, this probably surprises a few people, but it's true. Not for the reason most people would guess, bit it is one place he's least likely to go for no reason. The denizens of the Isles can feel what Dealer is thanks to being closer to what he is. With the mortal plane no longer dampening their experience, they can catch a glimpse of his true form on occasion. This is usually enough to decide if they'll stay or avoid him eternally.

Shurima: "It's a shame what happened to the Ascended, the Void is something beyond most comprehension." Ah yes, the guardians of the sands from the H.P. Lovecraft spilling into the world. There's little of interest for him here aside from the remaining Ascended and the Darkin. Personal preference draws him much more to the Darkin, but Azir and Nasus stand out as exceptions given the weight they've collectively shouldered. This is also an area where he feels relatively safe in taking on his demonic form.

Bandle: "The Yordles are my friends, and I won't see any harm come to them." Bandle is much like the Glade from his own home world, so he heavily associates them with magic and the fae. Lulu, of course, is his favorite and the sorceress could likely ask anything of him without worry of reprimand. But as a whole, he has a strong sense of paternal protectiveness over them. It is inadvisable to attack any Yordle in his presence.

Freljord: I'd quote him here too, but you can just play Immigrant Song since that's what he's wailing. This region really tickles his fancy for political intrigue and war tactics. For him it's like popping into an episode of Game of Thrones, but all of it is iced over. He's not with one side or the other and he's just as likely to mingle with soldiers as demigods, and here everyone seems to be fighting everyone. What's not to love for a chaotic God like himself?

Ionia: "Ah, the land there weeps the essence. I wonder if they ever think about where it all really comes from." Drumroll please, 8/10 third favorite region. His wife is a dragon and a samurai, so Ionia was his original top spot to visit up until their distaste for demons and his visits to Noxus changed his mind. Still, just about anyone could walk up to Dealer and engage in friendly conversation in Ionia. It placates him on a deep level and brings out his most peaceful side. This is mostly because he can feed on the magical essence and that keeps the edge of hunger off.

Targon: "Oh the Star Guardians. But these guys are the real Star Guardians." The Guardians of the Super Galaxy are low on Dealer's list of people. They've participated in some particularly heinous acts of divinity, and that's a big fuck up in Big D's eyes. Imprisoning a majestic space dragon, turning in on themselves, weaponizing a proud people, subsequently eradicating said proud people after their expectations weren't met. It would be a sad day for Targon should any of them challenge his temper.

Now, down here I'll handle the second part of this ask related to meddling. Dealer is specifically exiting the time-space Runeterra occupies retroactively. He literally leaves through the whole he made to come in by every coordinate imagineable to seal it off on his way out. This removes his influence entirely, as he was never truly there. When he is gone, no one remembers he was ever there and those memories resurface instantly once he reoccupies the area. So, to answer your question...

Yes, yes he does lots of meddling

[yordlerust-blog]

Rust’s Journey to Demi, Feat Hale.

Sitting the broom against the wall Rust dumped the dustpan over the trash. Standing there eyes looking over the shop at how clean and tidy it was. Once more he was getting ready for his journey to Freljord to visit Demi. Walking behind the counter the brown fur Yordle undid the tie of his apron. Walking towards the door he lifted it over his head and hung it up. Turning the lights out before stepping outside and locking the door. His attention turning towards supplies now. It was still mid day in Bandle many Yordles out and about doing their own things. Rust lived a short ways away from the shop making the small walk easy for him. Heading around the side of his home to a tarp covered object. The yellow cover that protected it from the weather was pulled away and folded. Under it was his wagon that he used to haul items on his journey.

Taking the tarp Rust tossed it into the kitchen after folding it up, locking the door behind himself. Bending down his hand gripped the wooden peg lifting it. As Rust walked the wagon followed behind making no real noise. That wagon was irreplaceable to Rust. It carried many supplies for him, something he would not be able to do on his own. The thought of seeing his blue friend brought a smile across his face. The sun fell and the moon rose up and by the time Rust was done his wagon was full. Sadly he hoped to leave Bandle the same day but that was not to be. He knew better than to travel at night, many dangers were out there. While there was no need to really worry about theft in Bandle Rust was still cautious. After all he spent many years in Zaun, alone growing up with not a single person to care for him. There were some lessons that he never forgot. The wagon was stored outside covered like normal only after the supplies were unloaded into his home, mostly on the counter. Then after doing his nightly routine he climbed into bed and slept.

Morning came and Bandle was bustling with life as normal. Many Yordles walking the streets going who knows where. He sat up yawning loudly while stretching. His fur a mess much like it was after every night. Getting cleaned up and dressed Rust started the morning by slowly loading the wagon. It would be a few hours before he was truly awake. It took no longer than an hour for him to be ready. Checking the doors one final time he set off for the docks! The smell of salt water and cool air circling Rust. Standing there he looked around before spotting the normal Captain. Minor greetings were exchanged as they loaded up the boat and Rust paid the normal fare. Normally the wagon would run loose on a ship but that problem was easily solved with a few ropes tying it down. A few minutes later and they set sail in the waters of Valoran. Rust went below deck climbing into one of the hammocks and getting some rest.

Nearly a week passed before they arrived safely at the docks of Demacia. Rust getting his land legs back slowly so to speak as he shopped. While he bought many things for Demi and himself in Bandle there were some he could not get there. He also held off on buying much food until arriving in the city as well. This was where he did the real food shopping! The shops he visited on his trips had come to recognize Rust, a few giving some good deals to him! Time passed quickly and before he noticed, it was noon. There was no more time to shop or move slowly. The pace was picked up Rust went right to the gates that welcomed and said good-bye to him many times. The roads heading to Demacia were safe, patrolled by Demacian military lower ranks.It was when he came to the forest that lead north did things become dangerous.

Rust wasn't a fighter the fur ball was not skilled in any weapon. The most deadly thing about him was making up new sandwiches to sell. While other Yordles would fight, run or pay their way out of trouble Rust would listen and hide. In the Northern Forest there were no roads to follow simply markings on trees many travelers. Some times though the markings were a victim of weather or tampering. Thankfully the trip north didn't present many dangers. Sure a few stray wolves were heard along with other creatures but nothing that caused fear in Rust.

The moons light soon filled the nights sky and after hours of walking his breath became cold. His wagon still very much behind him but Rust was getting tired. Freljord cold was something different than your normal winter cold. He still lacked true winter clothing to be doing this. Still he loved seeing his 'sister' enough to endure the chill that set in. Rust kept going until the green forest trees that reached for the sky's were toothpicks to him. It was midnight or slightly after before he hunkered down against a tree and balled up. Now he just tried to get some rest, he was close, so close. It wouldn't even be another day before Rust would arrive. His eyes grew heavy while his body rested and soon he was asleep.

Hours passed but not enough that the sun would show its first light in the sky yet. Freljord was a bit odd like that, longer nights than days even if only by a few hours. The sound of feet crunching the snow under them and the soft thudding they provided as well woke Rust. Ears twitched listening for the direction of the footsteps. The closer they got he realized they were not normal steps. These were much larger than a humans, these steps he has only heard a small handful of times. Shaking his head of any snow that gathered on them Rust sat there watching. When the large figure slowly came into view Rust stared. Squinting at the figure that brain inside his head slowly turning wheels. He was waking up just now after all. The closer it got the more intense his stare, until he made out the face. A soft sigh left him, it was Hale who was making those steps.

@erratic-onslaught

(((So I decided to post something proper rp wise for once. This is happening in Rusts canon world. He has no idea what happened to Demi. Or anything. He doesn’t know everyone is mostly there either. Writing this two times over has taught me something about myself. I am super out of practice and two I love to use the word “and” quite often. I need to work on details with out being lazy with using and. It has its place but not with how often I was using it.

If anyone is wondering I am using a map picture called MapofValoran. This is what I looked at to plot his journey. Though I disagree with Ionia and Shadow Isles placement, they need to be swapped imo because of what we know.)))

[laural-and-friends]

From a Family Far Away

I’m putting this under a read more because it is a very long post. This is the story of Cecelia, Laural’s aunt, meeting him for the first time. Laural will be away for a while. (I’m going on a small hiatus with Laural) He is going to visit his family in Demacia, but Cecelia is staying behind. She cannot return to Demacia. As of now Cecelia will be here to rp with and ask questions to. (I will rp with anyone outside of Demacia, not just from Bandle. If you’re from Demacia but want to rp with her then I’m sure we can work something out.) When Laural returns I will make her a sideblog so she will be here after that. For now please enjoy the story and have fun interacting with Cecelia. Ask all the questions you would like and she will answer. (Past threads will be handled slowly. As I said I am taking a small break from rping Laural at the time. I will not be dropping those threads but my response will be delayed. If you have a concern about one of our threads them please contact me in a message and I can chat with you. I know some threads are time sensitive to others as well. Exceptions can be made for those threads.)

The trip from Demacia was a harrowing one. It isn’t easy for a yordle to travel on her own in these dangerous times, but she was a tough old bird and could take care of herself well. She didn’t grow to be as old as she did to be eaten by some bandits mongrel.

She walked on along the path, humming a tune from an age past. The carnage she left behind was of no consequence to her any longer. She had business in Bandle to take care of and nothing was going to get in her way. She adjusted her sun hat and continued on her way.

The first place she stopped was her sister’s old house that her sister had built with her husband. Maryann was always a quiet one. She needed a good man to be her voice and she was his calm. They were a perfect pair if she had ever seen one, but Cecelia wasn’t like her sister.

She approached the old dilapidated house. No one had lived here for a good number of years it seemed. She knew her sister. She didn’t move to the city. She was gone and so was her husband. She had felt them go before she actually received the news. The family was devastated. Still never knew why they insisted on leaving the family and living out here alone. It was probably because of the boy, but Maryann was always a strange one.

Cecelia knelt down and touched the grass near the base of the house. Magic flowed from her fingers and the grass whispered to her. It told her stories of what had happened here. Cecelia stood and sighed. At least they had been happy here and they really loved their son. She had an idea of why they lived out here and left the family now. The boy was magic. It seemed she needed to find him even more now. She stood as the wind blew her dress, and she gripped her sunhat. It seemed she would need to visit Bandle City again. It had been a while.

(Art by @meatking )

As she walked to the city she mused about Maryann’s disappearance and her choice to leave her family behind in Demacia. Maryann had no talent for the arcane and Patrick certainly didn’t. The big oaf, but the boy did and Maryann had somehow found that out and so she ran. Some people didn’t appreciate the measurements that Demacia took to protect its citizens. Some people, especially mages, believed that they would be targeted next in some kind of purge. What did they think? This wasn’t Noxus. Then she remembered why she had left….or rather why she was forced to leave. No. That wasn’t the same. She dismissed the thought and focused on finding the boy. It would help if she knew his name.

She arrived in the city proper a few hours later. The forest was nice. She had a nice conversation with the trees. They were a chatty bunch. The yordles around must have rubbed off on them, or they just didn’t have anyone to talk to. It was nice to talk. Don’t let tree’s fool you either. Just because they are old doesn’t mean they are all wise. The city itself had changed very little in the time she had last visited. Wasn’t a surprising fact. Time moved slowly here it seemed. She didn’t really miss it here, but she might not have a choice any longer.

The first person she talked to directed her to a nearby meadow. She gave them a basic description that she had collected from the whisperings of the grass from her sister’s house. The yordle had told her that there was a yordle, fitting her description, that visited the meadow nearby often. They said they didn’t know anything else. She thought they were lying about not knowing more, but she knew she could get plenty of information from this meadow.

The meadow was filled with flowers. It was clearly magic in nature. Some of these flowers didn’t bloom in this color and some of these flowers didn’t even exist, until now it seemed. She would love to meet the person who created this meadow.

She was in luck though. There standing in the meadow was the yordle she was looking for. It seems he did indeed frequent this place. He reminded her of Maryann. From the way he stood to the markings on his ears. She began approaching and stopped suddenly as a blue wyrmling launched itself from beneath the flowers. He magic flowed and the plants responded. Petals flew in the wind and flowers grew. The young yordle turned sharply to look at her. He was crying out as the plants seized the wyrmling and pined it to the ground. A vine curled forward and muzzled the wyrmling. Even the breath of a baby dragon can kill.

“Hey! What are you doing?” the young yordle cried. “Let Peaches go. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

Now she was confused. Did the dragon belong to the boy? This was rather dangerous, but she didn’t want to anger the boy. “If you insist.” She didn’t move or say a word as the plants released the dragonling. The boy rushed to his side and cradled the beast.

“Who are you?” the boy questioned. The wyrmling glared at her but made no hostile moves. Strange.

How to handle this? “Young man how much do you know about your family?” She decided to get right to the point.

“I don’t know my family. I have a new family now.” The boy answered.

She sighed. She should have expected this kind of reaction. “What is your name young man?”

The young boy looked confused. “Laural. What do you know about my family?”

She sighed. She gathered some flowers from nearby and closed her eyes as she sat down. “Listen well Laural and I will tell you. I am your Aunt Cecelia and I came here to tell you the story of your family.”

(Art by @ask-suseonhwa )

bank�~ީ

[drabbles-n-stuff]

The Angel lifted her head, feeling the cold breeze and soft dew dripping on her.

Teemo lifted his head from a Scout manual he was reading, eyes widening and suddenly looking towards the door. Tristana’s house was much cleaner now they lived together, even if they moved through sheets just as often as they actually fucked. On the bath, Tristana slowly scrubbed away the dried, dead skin from a few a little too rough scratches that Teemo gave her during sex. The Demon popped up on the door frame, waving. “Uh, dear. Hell is calling me. You mind if I take a quick trip back there?”

“Yeah? Sure. That shouldn’t be more than a week, right? Yeah, I can live with that.” She purred, and as Teemo tried to walk away, her wet hand got hold of his fuzzy neck and pulled him back towards her. “Nuh-uh. You’re forgetting something.” a “I thought I was the Demon here.” He purred, but still obliged to her wish. A deep, tongue-filled kiss was given before Teemo waved his final bye. “Goodbye, dear. Don’t wait up.” He cracked a smirk, but as soon as he burst into flames, he was actually just inside Lulu’s forest. He could not go to hell yet, after all, Tristana was still alive. His reason for a quick break was the appearance of someone who knew he was here. An Angel? Really? The Gunner had been fucking incessantly for The Council only knows how many years and he takes a quick nibble on her and they’re already sniffing him out?! At least here, his scent would be masked, even if she was in danger. They probably wouldn’t harm her, though. If they did…

… what would he do if they did? Did he have to leave? He couldn’t bear to look at a Seraph, let alone a Repenter. He hugged his knees, his Scout disguise fading, then his Demonic form, only the swirling chaos that was his broken soul remaining, horns made of darkness weeping blood almost as much as his own golden eyes, staining the dry leaves with his unholy nature as much as the rain soaked the soil beneath.

In Tristana’s case, she was dealing with it pretty damn well. She had bought a coat for this kind of occasion, too. A nice, hefty Pilot jacket to keep the chills away from spending so much damn time near a constant heat source. Puffy sleeves, army green and neck fluff that reminded her so much of Teemo. Ah, that sly little devil. Were they a couple now? She wanted to say yes, but he wasn’t here to answer that question… and he’d probably say no, right? Demons and stuff, probably not to keen on the whole love thing, despite what Lulu said. Shame… he seemed like such a cool guy, too.

The air around suddenly got a lot colder, however, and despite the dark grey skies, it looked like the sun had just come out. And with it, a knock on her door? Did Lulu come to ask for something? There was the impression that everything around her got so much lighter and… no, that was too weird to be true. Probably just a side effect from spending a couple of weeks with a demon, right? Yeah.

As she opened the door, the word “What the…” escaped her lips before she could even think of repeating them.

Clad in silver armor fit for the royal knights of a King, hair bound in an odd braid that resembled a crown, somehow. Intricately weaved and radiating with light. Merely looking at her was enough to send shivers down Tristana’s spine… and those eyes! Piercing so deeply into her own that it felt like getting stabbed, not that the fact they glowed helped. That would have thrown her off, but maybe the time with Teemo had desensitized her to beings with unnaturally glowing irises. The oddest thing was, in fact, the massive Hammer shaft that seemed to expand behind her, the sides of this ungodly large tool actually thicker than her entire body. A soldier or something? What, was she gonna get conscripted into another kind of service?

“…can I–”

“DO NOT BE AFRAID, ye who revels in sin and debauchery!” Poppy said, bowing with the grace of a noble despite the immense weight that must have been put onto her. “I have come to thee with an opportunity one of your kind will not be able to refuse. I am Poppy, Keeper of Light and Redeemer of Souls. And you, Tristana, though your womb has been deeply tainted and even your flesh writhes with the marks of that which we can not–”

“Yeah yeah, I see where this is going. Redeeming?”

“…If you may, Tristana of Bandle City. Please do not cut me off.” The angelic nature seemed to dissipate, and what was left was a Yordle. A very strong, tall, majestic yordle to be sure! But still a Yordle. It actually made Tristana sigh in relief… somehow that just seemed better. “I’m serious here. You are in a lot of trouble. I am willing to help you!”

“Thanks! All the help I want is you to find my demon boy and get him back here once he’s done with his business to pound me senseless again! Can you do that?” The Gunner asked, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame, raising an eyebrow. Poppy looked more confused than anything, eyes wide in pure amazement.

“…Sorry, ye are to tell me, Angel of good faith and will, that you would rather rot in the boiling pits of tar deep inside Hell than accept the good hand of your saviors?”

“As long as I have that Devil with me on the pool? Man, I’d call that a party.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Look, I appreciate the fact you guys think I’m important enough to be saved! But I just don’t really… care, you know? Wait. Maybe I care a little.” The Gunner looked over her shoulder, before leaning in close. The Angel smiled, leaning forward to hear what she had to beg for. Gold? Their sweet ambrosia? Wings? Heaven had it all.

“Can I bring my demon boy with me up there? Like, can y–”

“What KIND OF HERETIC DO YOU TAKE ME FOR?” Poppy recoiled in pure disgust, eyes shining with Angelic fury, but after blinking, it quickly dissipated. “I… am sorry for that outburst. Angels fall. Angels are Broken. And thus, they are no longer Angels… and never again will be. Ye mortals are different, though. Tristana of Bandle cit–”

“Nah, then I think I’m pretty good.” Tristana did a hang loose motion towards Poppy, and closed the door on her face, going to the Kitchen to get some coffee. A few weeks ago, this visit would be enough to have her clinging to Lulu and begging for advice… now? Well, once you see your own soul and that of your boyfriend-to-be-maybe a few dozen times? You get used to weird stuff.

The Redeemer was left completely speechless in the door, however. What… had just happened? Did a Mortal not only have the audacity to speak over her, to close the door on her face but also to deny eternal salvation in exchange for morbid acts of pleasure?! Even the most rugged soldier on the cleanest of battlefields would accept her blessings and pass away in bliss, to accept their place in Heaven! THIS?!

Oh, this would not stand.

But she couldn’t keep annoying her. No, she knew how Humans worked… more or less. Tristana was a soldier, right? Soldiers defiled their sacred bodies on places full of alcohol. Bars, was it? Maybe if Poppy could just convert one or two people there… make the soil so clean no weeds could grow. Yes.

“I will return, fret not, Immortal soul of this confused sinner!” Poppy said, flying away in a mist of light before she could hear a very loud and angry gunner yelling “FUCK OOOOOFF.”

And on the Pub that the Sinner enjoyed spending her time on before meeting her Demon, a Knightess of Silver and Light stepped through the front door… yet sadly, when it was such a miserable day and so early in the morning, not many people other than the poor miserable sods that came to drown their sorrows in beer were present. Amongst them, the only idiot dumb enough to get interested at the creature exhaling power from every inch of her body.

“Do not be afraid, ye sinners broke of mind and soul!” She spoke, and just as the bartender was about to complain about the Knightess raising her voice, a large pouch of gold which wasn’t there a moment ago dropped on his counter. “Please. Ye must offer me those sinful drinks so I may cleanse them. Uh.. ‘beer’. Give me all the beer.”

The Yordle behind the counter gladly filled a couple of glasses full and pushed them to the corner of the counter, keeping her as far away from the drunk patrons as possible, ignoring her as best as he could while she chanted prayers.

Slowly she touched the glasses after every solemn hymn, caressing them in symbols alien to anyone present. The bizarre way she broke in, announcing her arrival, now ‘blessing’ cups? The idiot cleaned his shirt and shorts as best as he could, caressed his mohawk and walked right up to the woman, despite every single piece of his mind screaming at him to keep away from her out of some kind of sheer, primal fear.

“Hey.” Rumble purred, eyeing her up and down, while the Angel simply ignored him. “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven, baby?”

“…I didn’t fall?” She spoke, turning around to face him now… or well, having to look down since their height disparity was at least two feet in difference, eyes so piercing he’d have guessed she could look through him. “I descended here as gracefully as the leaf of a tree.”

“Well, I gotta say I haven’t met a single flower as beautiful as this catch here.” He smirked, confident as ever despite the fact she could probably kill him with a punch. Maybe that’s what made him so confident.

“Indeed, Heaven’s beauty is unmatched by all sinful growth that spurs from the soil beneath.”

“Baby I can say you ain’t from below because you glow like sunshine.” At that specific comment, Poppy seemed to blush, looking at the walls around her before giving Rumble yet another confused look.

“Am I glowing?”

He sighed, but couldn’t help but smile. Well wasn’t she dumb? Seemed like he finally got a woman to match him! “Nah dear, but you’re adorable. What’s your name?”

“I am nothing but Heaven’s beauty. My name is Poppy, Keeper of Light and Redeemer. Do not try to make my soul swell with pride, for I am not one to be blinded by my own self.”

“Uh-huh. Don’t worry about that! I’m pretty sure I can love you enough to make up for that.” He climbed up one of the stools, leaning against the counter. “So do tell… you free tonight?”

“Unless you are to help me with my quest, I do not think we will talk much, Yordle.”

“Uh-huh. Well, I think if you keep blessing glasses of beer, we’re going to run into each other quite a bit. Call me Rumble, by the way… I think you’re gonna be screaming that name sooner rather than later.”

“Rumble. Do tell me, Rumble. Do you know the Sinner that goes by the name of Tristana? A woman truly neck deep in the woeful needs of your bodies.”

“Uh… Tristy? Yeah, she’s pretty dope.” Poppy smiled, leaning in closer. “Why do you want to know…?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I seek to Redeem her, oh Yordle. That man she sleeps with is not one of light like you.” The comment got a chuckle out of Rumble, but she continued. “He is a being far, far worse. You must help me get Tristana back to the light. Will you be able to do that?”

“Yeah, I guess I can think up something.” He rolled his eyes, but the Angel’s eyes went wide with glee.

“You will be rewarded one day, oh Rumble of Bandle City. I will leave these with you, and may this show I am willing to compromise with those that look for the greater good.” Poppy got up and walked through the door, leaving Rumble with quite a few rounds of beer and another magic sack of coins. Not that the little Mechanic was complaining but wasn’t that a weird experience.

While Poppy was left to scheme a plan to bring Tristana back into the fold, Rumble finished as many beers as he could before moving to Ziggs and Heimer’s workshop, left scratching his head as he hoped to get some advice with how to deal with that weird girl. Truth be told, he was pretty fascinated with how beautiful and quirky she was. Covered in armor, giving away beer for free, and a bunch of gold?! She also did claim she was an angel. Fuck, was she one? It did feel weird when he spoke to her. But that was just because she was pretty, right?

Eh, or something like that.

The building that Ziggs had rented for his stay in Bandle was an old garage for planes, repurposed for some sort of massive project he had in mind, almost completely refurbished for a more scientific aesthetic. There were barracks inside for all the helping hands, and Rumble would honestly not be surprised to find a goddamn restaurant and disco in there too. Knowing Ziggs, if he had the budget, he’d probably put in both.

Rumble walked in without even knocking, staring at Ziggs and… yikes, Heim. The Scientist was hunched over a table with schematics on top, while Ziggs walked around the room. They were in a heated argument, something about reflux control? Hextech stuff, probably… not his field.

“…Ah. You didn’t tell me we’d have visitors, Ziggs.” Heimerdinger spoke, using his head to show the other where Rumble was. “Then I think we are done for now. But heed what I told you! It WILL be unpredictable!” The Scientist spoke, storming away past Rumble, leaving most of his tools behind.

“Jackass of little faith…” Ziggs grumbled, lifting up his glasses and smiling. Without the lenses making it look like he had eyes the size of celestial bodies, he really looked less insane! Even if his ideas were downright frightening at times, because of how ambitious they were or how destructive. Sometimes, both.

“Bad day?” The Runt asked, slowly walking forward. “Because I just had the WILDEST thing happen…”

“No, I’m just… fuck, you make TRISTY and that idiot can’t realize we can do something just like it except, and I’m sorry but it’s true, it’d be better.”

“No offense taken, except for the fact I’m not included here.”

“The climate is already pretty damn rough as it is, having another 'Bandle Boy’ here would probably have him tear up that shitty hair of his. But hey, you didn’t come here to hear me shit talk Heim. So, what is it?”

“Yeah, I came to shit talk Heim myself.” Ziggs managed to somewhat dull his laugh, making it sound more like a seal coughing than a chuckle, while Rumble laughed with glee. “Nah, Nah… alright, so. There was this girl who burst into the bar like a damn Queen who owned the place. She is SUUUPER fucking cute. Like, think Trist? Ok, now a little cuter.”

“Wow, you’d throw down with someone if they ever said it. Teemo really broke you in that bad?”

“I still don’t like that guy… but fuck man, Trist’s happy, you know? I… yeah, look, back to the girl at hand. Like, dude. She’s ENORMOUS. And rich? Like man. Man! Oh yeah, she also talked about being an angel because I don’t know, I guess she’s off in the head? I’m pre–”

“Yo. No, you can’t just drop that bombshell and call her mad! Ok, you said she…” Ziggs went silent, counting on his fingers and mumbling silent words, looking up at the ceiling in a thoughtful state.

After a while, he finally shook his head and flailed his arms, as if he was able to literally push his thoughts away. He landed both of his hands on Rumble’s shoulders, clasping tightly. Uncomfortably tightly.“Ok. Ok, ok, ok. Rumble. Do you believe her?”

“…should I?”

“Tell me?”

“Not… really. You do?”

“Ok, what was the first, THE FIRST thing she said as she came in. You said like a Queen. What did she say?”

“Uh.. something like 'fear not’? 'Do not despair’? A little bit of column A, Lil’ bit of column B maybe? Uhhh…”

“Do not be afraid?”

“Yeah, that’s it! Wait how did you–”

Ziggs shook Rumble roughly, staring him straight in the eyes. “DUDE WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER.”

“Chill man! I just… like, hit on her a little. Then she gave me a bunch of beer and a pouch of gold? I also said I’d help her do… uh, something with Trist? She spoke about uh… redeeming, light… she also called Teemo like, 'not of light’. It was wild.”

“WHAT THE FUCK. Ok ok ok, sit the fuck down, we gotta have a talk.”

Ziggs picked a chair and pushed it towards Rumble, sitting on the table after pushing a few bolts and nails away from it. “Ok, so. Don’t fucking open that trap because this is gonna be a bumpy ride and you’ll want to joke and call bullshit and I swear I’ll throw a wrench at you if you even think about it. In fact just for good measure… nah, nah I’m joking. But look.”

Breathing in deeply, trying to find a way to explain it to Rumble without looking like a goddamn fool. Ah, fuck it. He may as well just go all out. “That girl you met is an Angel, Teemo is probably some kind of Demon, Tristana is possibly in danger and you’ve just gotten yourself a one-way ticket to hell. Ok, now I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP. I WILL THROW THIS WRENCH AT YOU. Done? Alright. Sit tight.”

“Look you know when we were building Megakritz and a bar of metal hit me straight in the neck and I didn’t respond for two days before just walking it off? I kind of died. Seriously why didn’t you check my… ah, water under the bridge. Anyway, I couldn’t get into Heaven but I spent some time at the gates talking to some angels. They’re kind of stuck up but they LOVE saying 'Do not be afraid’ to anyone that passes by. It gets annoying after a while. Ok so Heaven didn’t want me, Hell didn’t want me either because my sins were basically like stealing a few candies and mild violence. But I’m not exactly prime Limbo material nor am I that much of a dick to need Purgatory. They just didn’t know what to do… so they just kind of threw me back into life. Dude, my neck was shattered! It was insane looking at it! Also apparently I’m a cat deep down. So if you ever see a brown cat with green eyes do throw me a pack of catnip, and know dead me will appreciate it.”

Rumble leaned back on his chair, running his hand through his mohawk, the other resting lazily on his thigh. “So you died.”

“Mhm.”

“And I’m doomed.”

“Pretty much.”

“Fuck me.” He sighed, before laughing. “Yeah, holy shit what the fuck! So great. I spoiled my chance for eternal salvation because I wanted to be with a cute girl. Yeah, that’s fine. What the fuck. What the fuuuuuck…” He slumped on his chair, resting both of his hands over his face, before jumping out of it with a speed that honestly frightened Ziggs.

“TRIST. TRISTANA. Look the, the angel girl, she spoke about Trist and Teemo. You said something about danger, right? Ok, so, uh, is there anything I can do to help her? I don’t… Trist is happy. She deserves to be happy, so please, can’t you just, I don’t know, blow her up back to heaven?”

“Y'ain’t going back to heaven after getting blown by a guy if you get my drill.” Ziggs giggled, waving a hand with no fucks to give. “Look, she’s a Redeemer. I met two of these back in my dead days. Dude, time worked weird there. They never harmed anyone? They’re just stubborn as shit and really mouthy. If you want to help Trist just… I don’t know, make her go away.”

“I can do that. I’m pretty good at making women run…” Rumble sighs, putting up a half-hearted smile.

“Don’t put yourself down, dude. Go out there. I dunno, ask Trist about it all? I’d say go look for Lulu but fuck is she kind of weird and I don’t like Veigar. But hey, you want to try your luck…”

“I’m going with Trist. Thanks.” As he got up and was ready to leave, he noticed what was a soft rain before became a full-blown storm, scratching his head at the open garage door, finally realizing that’s where the cool breeze was coming from! He… wouldn’t make it to the junkyard in these conditions.

“Uh… you got a spare room?” Rumble turned around, as Ziggs got out of the table and nodded towards some small shacks, probably used to keep supplies back in the more military focused days of this garage, now repurposed as living spaces.

It was… rather cramped inside them, but there were warm blankets and a pretty damn comfy bed. More than what Rumble could lay claim to. After a quick before bedtime conversation with his friend, Rumble laid down, sighing as he stared at the dull iron ceiling.

“I really fucked this one up.”

And quietly he slept, as sounds of raindrops hitting the ceiling of the large building echoed even inside the shack, leading to a rather pleasant setting to sleep in.

Morning came.

The rain had stopped some hours ago, and Ziggs’ noises were the thing that woke up the overworked mechanic. Slumping out of bed shaking from the cold air, feeling even colder due to just having left the warm, comfy blankets. Seems like his old friend was getting ready for a new day, and judging by the teapot he had, ready for Heim to visit again.

“Ziggs?” Rumble spoke softly, walking closer, even his fuzzy body unable to keep the cold away. “Uh… thanks, man. Seriously.”

“Don’t worry. You need a…?” Ziggs pointed at his own uniform, smiling. It had sleeves. Man, Rumble fucking wishes he had sleeves!

“Nah… Nah, I’m good, I’ll, I can handle this. I’m going to see Trist. Good luck with that project, dude!” Ziggs left Rumble with a hug, letting the mechanic go in his own personal quest.

Despite the skies slowly getting bluer as he walked, the cold wave didn’t stop, and every accidental step into a puddle sent him in a fit of cursing. By the time he got into Tristana’s house, be it from being a nervous wreck or due to simply being clumsy, he was soaked from the ankles below.

Knocking on the door, a loud groan could be heard from the inside, Tristana very begrudgingly opened the door, already looking pissed…

… before realizing it was Rumble!

“BUMBLE!” Tristana hugged him, a tight embrace that sent shivers down his spine and made his cheeks flare up, thankfully the fur did a mostly good job at covering it up.

“Uh.. h-hey, Trist. Yeah, can we… go in?”

“Yeah? Take a seat. Oh, dude, I just had the worst frickin’ d… uh… no, y'know what, I shouldn’t bother you with those things.”

“You met an angel,” Rumble spoke softly, going towards her couch and sitting down, hunched over himself with his arms resting on his lap. “I… met her.”

“Ah, fuck.” Trist sighed, walking over to him and sitting beside him, one arm wrapped around his shoulders. “What did she say? Did she.. uh… just, what did she say?”

“That Teemo is a dick and I’m to help her purge you. B-but like! I… I don’t know, I think I might have an idea? Maybe? I’m…. am I a good guy?”

“Bumble. You are the sweetest and softest guy I know.”

“Trist… really. Don’t, not as a friend. Just tell me. Pure and raw. Even if it hurts.”

“Oh.” She left out a chuckle, quickly catching herself in the act and going silent. Not a good time to think about dirty jokes. “Well… you… are kind of obsessive. I don’t need to remind you about TRISTY… even if it’s really sweet you named a robot after me! But uh. You also drink way too much for your own good… you cheat way too much too. Both ways. Don’t think I don’t know that.”

“So am I going to heaven or hell?”

Tristana smiled a terribly fake smile, hoping he wouldn’t have asked that. “… painfully honest again?”

“You don’t need to tell me. Ok so, what is the Angel here for? Redeeming someone, right? Maybe if I just give my own soul, because I guess I have one now, to her… maybe she’ll leave you and your boy alone?”

“Nonononono! Rumble what the fuck! What the fuck! What if that pisses her off? Or what if I lose you, and then she comes back for me? I, look, I know a girl, she–”

“Trist. Please. Ok then how about this… I’ll… I’ll try distracting her until you come up with a better plan. That’s what I’m gonna do, ok?”

“Rumble.”

“I know what I’m doing!”

“You haven’t known what you were doing since you were like five, you’re gonna die and I’m gonna lose a great friend… just… can’t you follow me? Real quick?”

“Trist. Just this time?”

“… if you actually make me have to go to heaven drag your ass back here you better believe I will and I won’t stop talking about it.”

“Fine, fine. It’s going to be fine. Got it?”

“Got it. So… you… want something?”

“I’ll just… I dunno, I guess we wait for the Angel? Yeah…” Rumble nodded to reaffirm his own statement, Tristana softly tapping his back for comfort before getting up and back to cleaning her home.

When the dreaded knocking finally came, Rumble was the first to get up, while Trist just placed her broom away, sitting on the couch and expectantly watching their conversation.

“DO NOT BE AFRAID, YE OF LITTLE FAITH! I ha– wait, you are Rumble.”

“Indeed I am! And I have an offer you can’t deny me.” He smiled a coy smile, confident as ever.

“I am not one to barg–”

“My soul for the Heavens.”

“I am listening.”

“Look, if you just… leave the girl alone, alright? Take me. Try to repent me or something. Then maybe, much later you can come back to her. How about that? Deal?”

“Well! I see you are a good friend and eager to repent. I do think the process will be quick for thee, e'en if your friend still suffers the influence of devils.”

“Good! Alright! Well, I am eager to go to heaven then.”

Poppy grabbed both of his hands and slowly ran her thumbs over his palms, making the sign of seven circles on them before crossing it with a line. Two circles of his right had flared up, while on his left, all seven flared up in a bloodlike color.

“Oh.”

Wide-eyed she stared down at his palms, while Rumble looked mostly confused and somewhat frightened.

“Well it seems you are quite the sinner. Your soul might appease the Council once it is done repenting… but it will not protect her forever. I will come back.”

“Great! Well then you need to repent me. Let’s hope it’s quick.”

“Do not lie to my face.”

“… oh, you can actually… oh shit.”

“No swearing! I- ugh. Lead me to the house which you reside in, Rumble of Bandle City.” She went back to being as stoic as one could be, hands perfectly placed on her thighs, back straight as a soldier waiting for orders.

And of course, Rumble just kind of shuffled around the giant Yordle, walking to his house and still letting out enraged curses with every puddle he accidentally stepped on, even with Poppy reprimanding him with every word.

Their treck was long, and through the dirt roads just in front of Veilu’s forests, where the sound of crying echoed through the leaves softly hit them, so soft one would be forgiven for thinking they were going slightly mad. Neither of them had time to deal with the ghostly whimpers, and so their journey wasn’t interrupted… although, after a while, Poppy just decided to give the Mechanic her own battle boots, levitating to stop the puddles of cold mud from splashing her feet, and worse, her Armor! Now that would be a disaster.

He just kind of stomped forward however, boots making clear tracks in the mud with how hard he stepped, making his way up a hill wich finally started to show signs of leading somewhere. Even if those signs were literal piles of metallic trash along the road.

“Alright alright alright…” He rubbed his hands together, gracefully opening his arms and letting Poppy take in the absolute horror that was the junkyard. Heaps of twisted and broken scrap molded together in abominable creations, TRISTY being the rotting cherry on top of the cake of steamy garbage, and despite the Council not employing machinations such as these, it was easy to recognize the mace attached to her, and… tubes? Ballistae mounted on this armor? What a horrifying prospect!

“Rumble. You can not be really living in this situation. This is… unacceptable.”

“Nah, it’s pretty acceptable, actually. I got a nice bed… I got food… sometimes… it’s dope. C'mon. Get in.” He took the lead, kicking open the already rusty and bent gates, strolling through the rusty mood with no cares to give to the world. Letting the beautifully crafted golden details of the ivory and marble boots, made durable and comfy by holy magic, get covered in the filth on the ground.

Floating right behind, now even further away from the ground to the point her wings had almost become material due to the strain of this mortal form, a cloud of golden and cyan following her just behind, shaping up to something barely resembling wings. “This is a travesty. You need a better place to live in! Look at these beasts of rust you made with your very hands, there is much of light you can do instead, yet you pick to make these wretched forms?!”

“Yeah? It’s fun. Besides, there’s already way too many people doing good stuff… I don’t… I don’t, I, It’s not my job to be good. And no one’s gonna pay me as much as I want to be paid. Might as well do what I want, right? It isn’t like I’m actively hurting anyone!”

“Lack of action is a sin.” She huffed, flying over to his Mech, standing over it like a lit beacon. A sun, illuminating this sinful totem of envy and lust. “This whole place… sinful.”

“It sure as hell is. I like it this way though. I mean.. no one comes bother me. I don’t hurt anyone. It’s fine. It’s a good place.”

“It harms yourself.”

“So?”

“So… stop?”

“It’s fun. What am I to do instead?” He crossed his arms, leaning against a rusty, still wet barrel, hearing a rat squirm inside and run away.

“…Filth.” She hissed, even higher now, a good few feet in the air from him. “You live in a den of filth, surrounded by all that is sinful and harmful, you who have become so lazy as to accept this as common! You who works not for the good of others, but for personal gain! YOU! YOU WHO HAVE LOST ALL SENSE OF SELF! You… are now mine to Redeem.”

“Cool.” He nodded, unsure whether to be absolutely horrified or cry and accept it. Instead he simply… stood there, nodding. His mind unsure how to process the pure beauty and raw power in front of him. On top of him. Her greatness was… surrounding him.

“Then we will begin. Inside we go… we shall leave the Incandescent Sun to dry this land of disease. We will clean it later. Now for your organization.” The Angel spoke, allowing Rumble to guide her into the run-down warehouse, now repurposed to be a workshop.

The roof, large as it was, almost completely riddled with holes. The walls barely holding up together, clearly fixed up over and over again to keep the place from falling down. In a distant corner, almost covered up by piles of trash, was what seemed like a bunch of cloth was actually revealed to be his personal abode, surrounded by heaps of garbage. There was almost a method to his confusing totems of filth, horrible skull-like symbols built on the sides of barely recognizable cubes and triangles.

Walking through those piles, Poppy groaned out loud in pure disgust, while Rumble simply kicked away some spent bottles, a surprising ammount for a single Yordle. “And welcome home, my friend.” He spoke proudly, showing off his cushion laying on the cold concrete ground, a pillow and a surprisingly clean and comfy looking blanket. Ignoring the bottles and bottles of beer coupled with the bizarre mangled scrap, it was… no, it still looked like a hobo had set up shop there.

“This is nothing but filth.”

“Ok I can admit I should throw out the glass stuff bu–”

“No, this all. This is a monument of corruption, the very existance of such place exists only to seep its dark roots deep in the dank soil and poison all around, the water below, the roots, the trees, the leaves. This place is a piece of the Dark Place in this very Earth, and you help mantain it. I can’t believe it…”

“I… what the fuck?” He as stumped. Really? He picked up one of the metalic rectangles, about the size of his torso, wich Poppy simply stared at unimpressed.

Then, he pressed a button on one of its sides.

Te rectangle opened up, a loud scraping sound as the rusty metal struggled to lift a plataform holding various precious little trinkets, assorted odds and baubles with no real value or interest, and generally just really tiny, pretty things. Under it soon was revealed another plataform, though this one was empty, probably due to the lack of space… or trinkets.

“I repurpose things.”

“I… see?” She finally stopped floating, the angelic energy from her wings floating to her feet, wich turned into sandals fit to grace a true Queen, dust and rust being swept away as if wind was coming from them. “You have made a complicated chest.”

“Well… I was thinking of making it more than just 'a chest’. A chest you can just punch through, or force open. This if made with… less.. trash, and maybe some other kind of lock tather thn 'button’, could be a way safer chest. And because of this..” He poked the cogs that lifted up one of the plataforms, wich almost was poked off due to the stress applied to it. “.. I can make it multiple tiers! I can make it fit way more than a normal chest. And be safer. And guess what? It’s not just because it’s trash that it is bad! In fact, it’s good because of it! It means I haven’t spent other materials to make something that could possibly be a huge waste.”

“Uh-huh. Well, you have made a chest. Congratulations! You still have a junkyard surrounding you! Rust still seeps in the ground, junk still is the place where plague and disease take their roots in!” She hissed, ever unwilling to take a break from chastitizing everyone around her.

“You want me to take Rust away from metal. That’s.. impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible.”

“To you, sure, but I can’t fly and I sure as fuck��”

“Ok look I’m going to swat you with arclight every time you say a swear word. Ok?”

“Why? I’m just swearing, I’m not commiting a fuc–” His sentence was cut shot by the sensation of steam burning his cheek, making him recoil and clutch it… before realizing nothing really happened to him.

“Rude. Not even one of the worst burns I got recently, either.” He grumbled, straightening his back and trying to ook a little more imposing. He was still just barely under two feet and a half, while the Angel stood at four feet, even stepping on the ground. Clearly, she didn’t have much of an idea of what a Yordle was before touching down, did she?

And as they bickered and whimpered and Rumble got hit again at least a few times, in the forest, Teemo stirred. His crimson form now a dull grey, horns barely dripping blood. It looked like he was about to collapse.

But instead, he got up, feeling what little of his strenght he had coming up to form his Incubi form. He was not one of Light, not anymore. But whoever this Angel was… they were far away from Tristana. And thankfully, she was stil alive. He could feel her pulse, the mark left on her neck a faint sort of bond between the two.

A quick flight later, and Tristana was being smothered in kisses and nips from her lover, giggling incessantly. “Teemo! Already? Didn’t you… oh, dude. I got to tell you.”

“I already know.”

“Wait, really? Uh, then you’ll be happy to–”

“She left you alone?”

“…I’d like to finish a sentence but yeah, she did. How do you… were you spying me from hell? Wait, were you this woried that you came back? Awwn, that’s adorable! Kind of creepy, I don’t want you staring over me all the time, but still cute!”

“I… long… long story.”

“We have all day.”

“You have. I’ll… I’ll hang around. I might disapear again. Ok?”

“Sure. But uh… are you ok?”

“Huh? I’m always good with you, dear.”

“No, I mean…” Trist got a hold of his neck fur, and pulled. His fur felt like straw rather than the soft sea of delight that she had touched a day, maybe two ago… and to both of their surprises, a rather fat chunk of fur came out. “… I don’t, I don’t think this is OK.”

“I’ll handle it later.” He kissed her, but now that the excitement of kissing him again passed, and the worry of his fur too… she wasn’t sweating. Teemo was in the same room as her, and yet she wasn’t dripping water as if she had just come out of a steamy bath on a hot summer day. If anything, she was feeling kind of chilly.

“Yeah. Just don’t… get back safe?” She asked, with a smile.

“I promise I will.”

Teemo kissed her again, not her lips this time, a soft kiss on her forehead, so she would be sure he was saying the truth. And off the door he went, towards the Angel, feeling his own self getting colder with every passing moment. He didn’t enjoy it. At all. Being near his… bretheren. The ones that didn’t fall. And a Redeemer no less…

He stopped just on the hill that led to the Junkyard, overhearing the heated argument of the Angel and the… ah, what was his name? Tristana’s friends. Bumbly idiot, or something. Bruno? Bumo? Eh, not important.

What was important, was the Angel that left the building, holding her Hammer in a stance of pilgrimage. Oh, she was pissed then. And he knew her.

Oh, he knew her.

Rumble followed her just outside, giving up on the chase before it even started, actually. Teemo hid amongst the leaves of the Summoners’ forest, smiling his devilish grin.

He followed her, watching her groan, pray, kick, pray and yell. A good half an hour just watching her judge her choices, ocasionally glancing deeper in the forest. Once she finally sat down on her knees, as if meditating.

“Hey Pigtails.”

“Te… Fallen.”

She had felt him, leaving the safety of the forest and landing right behind her.

“Do not attempt to touch me, Fallen One.”

“The Council doesn’t keep an eye here. We’re literally right beside their woods. Then again… if they did all keep their eyes around the forest, it would explain why they can never get anything done.”

“…Still.” She said, sternly, before adding to it soon after, a lot more softly. “Please no.”

“Then we’ll simply talk.” He sat down aswell, smiling. “Someone got your panties in a twist?”

“I don’t… get it?”

“Who made you mad.”

“You, especially. Look at what you did… what you’re doing! To this city. Oh, absolute vileness. It is… disgusting…” She held her hands together in prayer, tears dropping ever so slowly.

“I didn’t come here myself, you know.” He purred.

“Yet you still came.”

“I did. And so did you. Do you really dislike this place that much? I like the people here. They’re not… they’re not that different from the man that made you you.”

“And not too different from the hellish beasts that crawl in your new Home.”

“Nah. You remember Eve? Now that’s a fall from grace. Eveyone else is kind of alright, though. Save for a few… ugh. Look, I know, I’m not going to turn you into a Warlady or a mere Imp. I was an angel too. I know you… don’t understand these things.”

“I understand all I need to.”

“Uh-huh. Just consider… maybe it isn’t worth it. This fight.”

“Yet I was born to fight.”

“No you…” He sighed. Of course, she was an Angel. Was he realy that stupid, once? Yeah. It sounds likely. Seeing as he was doing the same mistake that made him fall… again.

“Yeah. Yeah you were. Now… just keep in mind that not all wars need to be fought.”

“Yet it is my duty.”

“It sure is.”

“…leave her be, Devil.”

“You know I can’t do that either. And it isn’t because I’m trying to have an easy soul job.”

“Yet you can’t keep your sin away from her. Twisting her.”

“I only do what she asks me to do. Trust me.”

���Disgusting. This whole town. I… leave. Now.” She hissed, the Hammer on her back starting to crackle, light flaring up from the opened slits.

“Very well.” He nods, floating away to Tristana’s house, gleeful as ever.

He was warm.

Fiend.

Looking at the forest, light still blasting from the Hammer, she got up. Light, shiny light. And Darknees… Darkness. In the forest. Where the two of them lived. Not Teemo and Tristana. Those ghoulish spellcasters.

Every step she took made the leaves shake, and the forest was dead quiet. It was hard to feel anything inside that forest except dread, and the certainty of being watched. Every step ever so slow, guiding her towards the heart of the woods, the abandoned manor that housed the Mages. Quiet.

An open door.

She stood in front of, it, and knocked. “DO NOT BE AFRAID, ye who sins and trades with that wich is unholy!” Her voice boomed through the house, and there was… silence.

“…please come out.” She grumbled, knocking on the door. Nothing. Stepping in…

… oh, there they were.

“Rude.” Poppy’s voice was soft, but her composure stern.

“Well you’re in our domain now so no destroying us or our home.” Lulu giggled, sitting on her armchair, While Veigar stood vigil. Leaning forward, tapping her knees with glee and excitement, Lulu smirked. “Came to say hi? Or check if we’re keeping our end of the bargain?”

“I… I do not know what Bargain you speak of, but… I have come to do one myself.”

Veigar’s shadowy veil dropped, while Lulu gasped out of sheer delight. “OH, GOODIE!” Hopping out of her chair, she opened her arms, expecting a hug that didn’t come.

“You have a blight of sinners in this town.”

“Yeah, every town does. Weird, innit?” Lulu waggled her eyebrows, teasing Poppy, knowing she wouldn’t change her mind from this jab.

“And we are cleansing it. But… but these… fiends. That live on Bandle City. You… yordles. You have summoned devils to lay your women, and praise knowledge and metal more than the very Lords and Ladies above. I seek to cleanse… two people.”

“That’s going to be a hefty price, you know? Most Yordles are our friends.” Lulu grumbled, lowering her arms and crossing them, standing on the tip of her toes. Not to try and match Poppy’s height, that was nearly impossible… just to feel a little taller. It made her happy. Something told her she’d need to be happy. “Who are they?”

“Tristana and Rumble of Bandle City.”

This time, even Veigar couldn’t help himself. A croak, raspy and unidentifiable, followed by Lulu’s cheerful and excited laugh. No, she wasn’t happy. She was mocking. Mocking this being of light.

“Why do you want to cleanse them, exactly? Because I don’t know if you know, we helped her summon her boyfiend. Hehehee.. boifiend.” Lulu giggled, looking away.

“Before she loses the process..” Veigar interjected, stepping forward. “… I think she’s trying to say that no matter what price you offer, those are our friends. One of them, at least. Truth be told… Tristana enjoys the Mechanist’s antics. And that is good enough for me to not want to charge for cleansing him. Or doing it, at all. We will stop you of redeeming our dear friend, as for the boy… well, if he will accept it, who are we to say no? Take his soul and be happy you got anything at all.”

“What he said!” Lulu skipped over to him, puffing her cheeks and frowning to show how mad she was. “No touching boifiend and Trist!”

“Very… well.” By the sword of the Justicar… if she could just smash their precious items to dust! But this was not a kind, nor necessary act. Poppy bowed, out of respect for the ways of Heaven than anything else, and got nods from both of them. More than she expected from their kind.

Meanwhile, Rumble tried stuffing all of his bottles in a dumpster. There were… a lot. That was a lot of glass. A lot of things could be done with glass. A lot of money could be earned. And truth be told, he could use new windows in most places.

His task seemed neverending, and as he realized one dumpster would not be enough, he also realized TRISTY’s smasher was going to make more of a mess than salvage it. He needed a big metal slab, to heat up his furnace,  get the casts ready… fucking hell. But the money.

But he could do it later.

Keeping the sacks of collected bottles that didn’t fit on the dumpster just below it, Rumble sat on a throne of rusty metal, made relatively safe to sit in by the addition of an airplane seat and matresses repurposed as steps and armrests. Oh, he felt like a King alright.

Aaand here came the cutie he wished he never met.

Flying over the orange ground, where barely any grass manged to sprout from the rust, Poppy stood face to face with Rumble. Oh, she would not kneel to this self-righteous worm. “What makes you think you deserve a throne?”“

“The fact I built it myself? That’s pretty impressive.”

“Anyone can do that.”

“And no one does. Beside, no one’s really complaining besides you… and you’re not from the Kingdom. Nah I’m just fucking with yo–” Another smack of her Arclight on his cheek, making him growl. “F… hecking stop! I’m not a King, I’m just messing with you. I just like a comfy place where I can feel tall. It just so happens Thrones are great for that! Yikes, don’t you know how to have any fun..?”

“My fun is cleansing sinners. And you… you are every bit of darkness. So I shall cleanse you over and over again, each of the seven ones ill be stripped away. Let us start by sloth. Up! Thy work is not done.”

“You want me to be less lazy? Alright. How about this. I will get my ass out of h– THAT WASN’T A –” Another smack.

“N-not.. a… b-butt… butt with A isn’t even a swear word!”

“No, but it means you are thinking of using one. You neeed to cleanse your mouth and mind like you will cleanse this place.”

“N-not.. as… b-butt… butt with A isn’t even a swear word!”

“No, but it means you are thinking of using one. You need to cleanse your mouth and mind like you will cleanse this place.”

“Uh-huh. Just.. tell me what you want me to do.”

“Clean thy ground. Make it good.” She nodded confidently, while he just stared at her, dumbfounded.

“Rust included?”

“Clean. This. Mess.” She hissed, squinting at him.

“I… look, even if I possibly could dig out all the rust, metal, maybe bones and whatever else is stuck where I can’t see… do you really think it’ll be worth it waiting for me, who has the same bone integrity as a rat with osteoporosis, to even begin power scrubbing this place? Let alone the ground?! It’s impossible. It’s too hard for me to do, you know it, I know it. So how about this. We can’t clean the ground.. but. We can repurpose what is making it suck. And you can help me move large piles of metal fast. You’re strong, right? That hammer looks heavy. Sounds pretty good?” He smiled, leaning back into his throne.

“You won’t sit there alone. I shall collect you this trash… and I will oversee your renewal of this vileness. Oh, to think you woeful fiends would simply discard this without thought for nature!”

“Yeah, we kinda suck at times… makes for fun toys though.” He smiled, going inside to look for the loincloths he placed on Trist when it rained.

Wait, it had been raining pretty hard last night.

Rushing outside, struggling to hold the green, blue and black loins, he sighed as he stared at TRISTY. His magnum opus… drenched. Fuck!

“Poppy?” He whimpered, laying down the loins as clear signs of where the Angel could lay down the scraps she picked up. The Angel was already carrying the Throne with ease, and all the scrapped cars and parts that helped make it a lot bigger than it actually was.

“Yes, Sinner?”

“I.. do you mind… do you mind giving me some help? A-again?”

“Ye ask a lot from an Angel.” She gracefully placed the Throne down on the loins, stepping down to him. “What is it?”

“I kind of need you to.. uh… lift me up. I know, it’s, kind of dumb.. but… m-my robot, she’s..”

“It.”

“She.”

“It.”

“Look, just, help me clean her? I forgot to cover her up…”

“Materials do not have names like people! Stop talking to it like it’s a person

"Well, she has a name of someone alright.”

Poppy seemed confused and annoyed at his quip. “You have stained the holy name of someone by placing it to a vile piece of discarded metal?”

“… maybe.”

“Council guide this one…” She sighed, closing her eyes and clasping her hands in prayer. “Tell me their name so I may weep for their being.”

“You… sure you wa–”

“Tell me.”

“… T-t… Tristana. Tri- I actually call her Tristy, though. I-It’s cute. I just.. I just find it cute.”

“Ah.” The sound that came from her mouth was soft, almost like a gasp, but the hate from a single follow up word dripped almost to the point of being visible. How..?“Her.”

One of the circles in his hand started to burn, and he shook it like a madman. “Hey. Hey! HEYHEY! NO! WHY?!” He held his hand, almost crying due to the sheer pain of feeling like his hand was being cooked.

“That is Envy. You still hold feelings for her.” Poppy unclasped her hands, and slowly, way too slowly for Rumble’s taste, the sensation stopped. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to do any real damage… just be really, really painful. “Maybe once both of you are cleansed, and that Fiend is away… maybe you two may be together. Maybe.”

“I d… f… I don’t… fu… ugh.” Rumble was still reeling and decided that instead of trying to reason, he’d simply get to work on TRISTY. His attempts at climbing with just one hand were… to be nice, pathetic. He fell on the ground over and over again, and at some point, seemed to have hit something hard, seeing as he just laid on the ground, face buried in his hands.

The Angel, harsh as she was to repenter, still was compelled by pity. Laying horizontally on the air, completely unphased by it, she spoke. “You are harmed.”

“No shit.”

A very soft flick on his forehead. “No swears. You are harmed. You shall be laid and healed, while your hand and… st..omach? Heals. I will take care of your Iron monster. For now… sleep.”

Despite thinking that he was already used to her antics, having her say his 'stomach’ was hurt when he probably just broke a rib was… endearing? Maybe? Man, whatever, it was just a delight to finally be this smarter than someone. He felt like a frickin’ God!

“Stop with those vile thoughts or you will burn again.” She spoke, picking him up on her arms and slowly guiding him into his little corner inside the warehouse. Another burning sensation, this time a lot weaker.

“You started taking pity on me? Cuuute.”

“I can make you puke out the very sin out of your soul so you may stare at it before it pitifully crawls down your maw. So stop speaking. And heal.”

She left before saying any other words, feeling her cheeks start glowing with Arclight. Pity. This was Kindness. No more, no less! Worm.

Rumble quietly fell asleep, and Poppy spent the better part of the afternoon and night cleansing TRISTY and piling up scrap for the Mechanic. Keeping whatever looked functional, or small enough that Rumble could have built it, inside the Warehouse alongside the items that were already in.

By the time Rumble awakened, she was mostly done, and he was amazed to see the organized wall of his projects. He tried standing up, trying to find support in his forearms, and failing.

“Pooooooppy.”

A loud thump was heard outside, alongside with scrap being destroyed. Probably falling in on itself. Poppy flew to him with the weight of a fly and the velocity of a bullet, being just above him in moments. “Have you healed?”

“Uh… no.”

“Then sleep. Heal.”

“Yeah, I’m not sleeping this one off dear. Uh.. can you… you know what a bandage is, right?”

“No.”

“Ok, can you just, go into the city and ask about this rope-like thing that makes people stop bleeding. It’ll help me stop… hurt. I’ll just… uh… can you find me a book? I should have something around. Maybe? Just.. something to do.”

A quick flight through the junkyard had uncovered quite a few books, although most were of… questionable contents, and too sticky to open up for whatever reason. Did he feel regret and seal them? Most likely!

“Here, here aaand here.” Poppy placed down a comic book, Annals of Ancient Bandle, and a mechanic’s magazine. Well… it wasn’t exactly a great collection, and truth be told he only had gotten the Annals to laugh at some other word they resembled. It made one of the circles inside his hand sizzle, and the laughing did make his chest hurt even more.

“Ok, just… ah, thanks. Just go and get the bandages. Thanks, Poppy? Porcelain? I forget your name…”

“Poppy. Stay still, Sinner mine. Do not harm yourself further.” With a soft bow, she leaped into the air, disappearing through one of the smaller exits soon after.

“Poppy.” He grabbed the Annals, slowly leaning back against the cold iron behind him. It kind of hurt. But it was comfier than reading

“Poppy…”

While he started to read, the Angel made her way to the Forest once again. It was almost downright humiliating. She was used to being on the Battlefield. She above all others was there on the time of need for a quick conversion, she even saved Soldiers out of certain death so they would become preachers. So many wounded and dying. She repented them, sure… but healing anything other than the soul was never meant to be her job! And making a fuss on the city market for not knowing something that sounded so common would not do.

Once again she stopped in front of the Manor, walking in more confidently this time. “DO NOT BE AFRAID, YE WHO DEAL WITH SCUM! I have come to bargain… again.”

Pix popped up from a dollhouse, pointing at a clear sign on the door that led upstairs.

“TRIST! If you came to visit I’m busy with Vei right now! We’ll be back in a few hours! Love, Lulu & Veigar!”

“Oh.” Poppy crossed her arms, staring at the imp looking creature. “This is… not a huge favor. I simply want… bandages? Bondages? I’m not sure. Something that restricts..”

Slowly flying over to the door, a confused look on his face, he stuck himself into the keyhole of the door leading upstairs and managed to slide inside. A little bit of time passed wich Poppy spent on her feet, not wanting to sit down on the chairs of these Sinners. She wasn’t invited, either. It was just polite. And safe.

Pix appeared soon enough, a roll of bandages under one arm, and a roll of ropes, handcuffs and other kinky gear on the other. How did that fit alongside him on the keyhole? Poppy didn’t know and didn’t care. “I guess I’ll take… both. These might come to use when he is misbehaving.”

Even Pix couldn’t help but laugh, well, squeak like a toy. Placing them down, he extended his arms, where Poppy placed down a golden medallion, materialized in her hands mere moments ago. “May it serve you as well as these serve me.”

"N-not.. as… b-butt… butt with A isn’t even a swear word!”

“No, but it means you are thinking of using one. You need to cleanse your mouth and mind like you will cleanse this place.”

“Uh-huh. Just.. tell me what you want me to do.”

“Clean thy ground. Make it good.” She nodded confidently, while he just stared at her, dumbfounded.

“Rust included?”

“Clean. This. Mess.” She hissed, squinting at him.

“I… look, even if I possibly could dig out all the rust, metal, maybe bones and whatever else is stuck where I can’t see… do you really think it’ll be worth it waiting for me, who has the same bone integrity as a rat with osteoporosis, to even begin power scrubbing this place? Let alone the ground?! It’s impossible. It’s too hard for me to do, you know it, I know it. So how about this. We can’t clean the ground.. but. We can repurpose what is making it suck. And you can help me move large piles of metal fast. You’re strong, right? That hammer looks heavy. Sounds pretty good?” He smiled, leaning back into his throne.

“You won’t sit there alone. I shall collect you this trash… and I will oversee your renewal of this vileness. Oh, to think you woeful fiends would simply discard this without thought for nature!”

“Yeah, we kinda suck at times… makes for fun toys though.” He smiled, going inside to look for the loincloths he placed on Trist when it rained.

Wait, it had been raining pretty hard last night.

Rushing outside, struggling to hold the green, blue and black loins, he sighed as he stared at TRISTY. His magnum opus… drenched. Fuck!

“Poppy?” He whimpered, laying down the loins as clear signs of where the Angel could lay down the scraps she picked up. The Angel was already carrying the Throne with ease, and all the scrapped cars and parts that helped make it a lot bigger than it actually was.

“Yes, Sinner?”

“I.. do you mind… do you mind giving me some help? A-again?”

“Ye ask a lot from an Angel.” She gracefully placed the Throne down on the loins, stepping down to him. “What is it?”

“I kind of need you to.. uh… lift me up. I know, it’s, kind of dumb.. but… m-my robot, she’s..”

“It.”

“She.”

“It.”

“Look, just, help me clean her? I forgot to cover her up…”

“Materials do not have names like people! Stop talking to it like it’s a person

"Well, she has a name of someone alright.”

Poppy seemed confused and annoyed at his quip. “You have stained the holy name of someone by placing it to a vile piece of discarded metal?”

“… maybe.”

“Council guide this one…” She sighed, closing her eyes and clasping her hands in prayer. “Tell me their name so I may weep for their being.”

“You… sure you wa–”

“Tell me.”

“… T-t… Tristana. Tri- I actually call her Tristy, though. I-It’s cute. I just.. I just find it cute.”

“Ah.” The sound that came from her mouth was soft, almost like a gasp, but the bending of metal was audible. “Her.”

One of the circles in his hand started to burn, and he shook it like a madman. “Hey. Hey! HEYHEY! NO! WHY?!” He held his hand, almost crying due to the sheer pain of feeling like his hand was being cooked.

“That is Envy. You still hold feelings for her.” Poppy unclasped her hands, and slowly, way too slowly for Rumble’s taste, the sensation stopped. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to do any real damage… just be really, really painful. “Maybe once both of you are cleansed, and that Fiend is away… maybe you two may be together. Maybe.”

“I d… f… I don’t… fu… ugh.” Rumble was still reeling and decided that instead of trying to reason, he’d simply get to work on TRISTY. His attempts at climbing with just one hand were… to be nice, pathetic. He fell on the ground over and over again, and at some point, seemed to have hit something hard, seeing as he just laid on the ground, face buried in his hands.

The Angel, harsh as she was to repenter, still was compelled by pity. Laying horizontally on the air, completely unphased by it, she spoke. “You are harmed.”

“No shit.”

A very soft flick on his forehead. “No swears. You are harmed. You shall be laid and healed, while your hand and… st..omach? Heals. I will take care of your Iron monster. For now… sleep.”

Despite thinking that he was already used to her antics, having her say his 'stomach’ was hurt when he probably just broke a rib was… endearing? Maybe? Man, whatever, it was just a delight to finally be this smarter than someone. He felt like a frickin’ God!

“Stop with those vile thoughts or you will burn again.” She spoke, picking him up on her arms and slowly guiding him into his little corner inside the warehouse. Another burning sensation, this time a lot weaker.

“You started taking pity on me? Cuuute.”

“I can make you puke out the very sin out of your soul so you may stare at it before it pitifully crawls down your maw. So stop speaking. And heal.”

She left before saying any other words, feeling her cheeks start glowing with Arclight. Pity. This was Kindness. No more, no less! Worm.

Rumble quietly fell asleep, and Poppy spent the better part of the afternoon and night cleansing TRISTY and piling up scrap for the Mechanic. Keeping whatever looked functional, or small enough that Rumble could have built it, inside the Warehouse alongside the items that were already in.

By the time Rumble awakened she was mostly done, and he was amazed to see the organized wall of his projects all piled up in order of height. He tried standing up, trying to find support in his forearms for it, and failing.

“Pooooooppy.”

A loud thump was heard outside, alongside with scrap being destroyed. Probably falling in on itself. Poppy flew to him with the weight of a feather and the velocity of a bullet, being just above him in moments. “Have you healed?”

“Uh… no.”

“Then sleep. Heal.”

“Yeah, I’m not sleeping this one off dear. Uh.. can you… you know what a bandage is, right?”

“No.”

“Ok, can you just, go into the city and ask about this rope-like thing that makes people stop bleeding. It’ll help me stop… hurt. I’ll just… uh… can you find me a book? I should have something around. Maybe? Just.. something to do.”

A quick flight through the junkyard had uncovered quite a few books, although most were of… questionable contents, and too sticky to open up for whatever reason. Did he feel regret and seal them? Most likely!

“Here, here aaand here.” Poppy placed down a comic book, the Annals of Ancient Bandle, and a mechanic’s magazine. Well… it wasn’t exactly a great collection, and truth be told he only had gotten the Annals to laugh at some other word they resembled. It made one of the circles inside his hand sizzle, and the laughing did make his chest hurt even more.

“Ok, just… ah, thanks. Just go and get the bandages. Thanks, Poppy? Porcelain? I forget your name…”

“Poppy. Stay still, Sinner mine. Do not harm yourself further.” With a soft bow, she leaped into the air, disappearing through one of the smaller exits soon after.

“Poppy.” He grabbed the Annals, slowly leaning back against the cold iron behind him. It kind of hurt. But it was comfier than reading

“Poppy…”

While he started to read, the Angel made her way to the Forest once again. It was almost downright humiliating. She was used to being on the Battlefield. She above all others was there on the time of need for a quick conversion, she even saved Soldiers out of certain death so they would become preachers. So many wounded and dying. She repented them, sure… but healing anything other than the soul was never meant to be her job! And making a fuss on the city market for not knowing something that sounded so common would not do.

Once again she stopped in front of the Manor, walking in more confidently this time. “DO NOT BE AFRAID, YE WHO DEAL WITH SCUM! I have come to bargain… again.”

Pix popped up from a dollhouse, pointing at a clear sign on the door that led upstairs.

“TRIST! If you came to visit I’m busy with Vei right now! We’ll be back in a few hours! Love, Lulu & Veigar!”

“Oh.” Poppy crossed her arms, staring at the imp looking creature. “This is… not a huge favor. I simply want… bandages? Bondages? I’m not sure. Something that restricts..”

Slowly flying over to the door, a confused look on his face, he stuck himself into the keyhole of the door leading upstairs and managed to slide inside. A little bit of time passed wich Poppy spent on her feet, not wanting to sit down on the chairs of these Sinners. She wasn’t invited, either. It was just polite. And safe.

Pix appeared soon enough, a roll of bandages under one arm, and a roll of ropes, handcuffs and other kinky gear on the other. How did that fit alongside him on the keyhole? Poppy didn’t know and didn’t care. “I guess I’ll take… both. These might come to use when he is misbehaving.”

Even Pix couldn’t help but laugh, well, squeak like a toy. Placing them down, he extended his arms, where Poppy placed down a golden medallion, materialized in her hands mere moments ago. “May it serve you as well as these serve me.”

Another row of squeaks from Pix as Poppy left, simply ignoring the mocking. The black bandages were a bit wet, and smelled rather funky… but the white ropes were clean. They smelled of alcohol. Huh.

A quick flight back, and soon enough Rumble was shirtless in front of her. He had gotten on reading quite a bit about Bandle, although that only left him with more questions than answers. Poppy didn’t care about that, though. What she did care, was how she could finally see just how thin he was.

“Even your fur can not hide this. When did you last eat?”

“… define eating?”

“Chewing things with your mouth and swallowing it.”

“Well in that case… uh… two days? I’m still w–”

“Silence.” Poppy gently forced him to sit upright, wrapping the bandages around his chest. “I can’t allow you to suffer while under my watchful vigil. Unless you wish to partake in fasting?”

“Look, the only reason I don’t eat is that it costs money, and I already got little of it as it is.”

“Yet you have enough bottles of drink to fill bags.”

“… well, priorities ar–”

“Hush, Sinner! T'is clear thee has fallen to the devilish tradition of vices and delusions! Then the damage is not only of body, but of mind as well. Very well. I so woefully regret feeding it now, but from this point, the gold that touches your hand will feed you, the alcohol that touches your lips will be tasteless and harmless, the needs of the flesh will be dimmed. And so it is spoken.” She nodded as if all that was a spell, and smiled. “Very well. Are you hungry?”

“I could go for a snack but I also could go for not moving.” One of the circles on his hand started to fume, but before the pain could hit, the Angel pointed at the hand. “Hush!”

The fuming stopped.

“…you can just… make it stop?”

“Of course. I placed it.”

“So you just… let me break my ribs instead of… like… helping me?!”

“Yes. It taught you an important lesson. Do not disobey Heaven’s will.”

Burying his hands on his face, he sighed. “Alright. Sure, whatever. You want me to eat, right? Can’t you carry me or something?”

“Gladly. I will not let you die while your soul still lives stained and crooked.” Picking the Mechanic up like a dead body, carefully letting him rest on her arms as they flew, not nearly as fast as before. After all, even a nudge could make Rumble whimper in pain.

Once the city was finally in view, the wings dematerialized, and they both were finally able to land. Placing Rumble down very carefully and giving him an arm to hold for support as they walked towards the bar. In hushed whispers, she kept asking him about if it hurt, how much, and how to help him… most questions were answered with a pained shrug, followed by a groan of pain as he realized what awful idea that was.

As they got inside the bar, surprisingly warm for the season, Poppy made sure to sit him down as soon as possible. While Rumble fanned himself, Poppy sat and waited for the waitress to pass, by, tapping her fingers on the table expectantly.

She saw him.

She knew he saw her.

He had spotted her a long time ago, as soon as she moved towards Bandle, actually. Tristana, still quite deaf to these higher beings despite spending so much time with Teemo, tugged on his fur. “C'mon. Let’s go home It’s b.. been? Hon?”

To her, and Poppy’s surprise, Teemo walked up to the Angel’s table. Confused, Tristana followed along, sitting down near Poppy to make sure Teemo could not touch her.

The whole bar had stopped talking again as if the hostility between the two Holy beings was choking them up. Slowly, table by table, they left, unable to explain why they felt so frightened. Teemo smiled, careful not to show his teeth, the other three in the table simply waited for him to speak whatever he had in mind. Rumble being ever so careful to not touch him, not wanting to get cooked.

Coins clinked for the last time, and finally everyone except the four and the bartender had left. Even the waiters took the opportunity to hide in the back. The anticipation killing everyone as if a bomb was about to explode, and none of them knew exactly when. Just that soon it’d happen.

His tongue clicked.

“So.”

“So.” Poppy followed, crossing her arms and leaning back.

“You know.” He rested his arms on the table, back arched as if he was going to pounce at her, any second now…

“I do not, Demon.”

“You seem to have taken a liking to that boy.” He nodded over to Rumble, who was now having to swipe away the fur falling on his eyes, dripping with sweat. “Gave up on her?” He smiled fully now, needle-like teeth showing.

“I will take her from you and leave you to dust, Worm. He is simply yet another soul I may save.”

“Y'know that’s how I started.” He glanced at Trist, his eyes barely open, just enough to let their yellow light and cat-like slits show. “Sorry, I forgot you don’t use that term on Heaven. I mean, that’s how I f–”

“I know what it means, Fallen one.” She hissed, the pure and radiant light clashing with the fiery gaze, lights dancing with each other while Rumble and Trist tried not to pay too much attention to what was going on.

“He’s still wearing your boots.”

Her cheeks swelled with arclight, eyes dimming down as her heavenly blush took hold. Soon enough, Rumble was left with his feet free. “Hey, I kind of du–”

“Shut up, Sinner.” Poppy was even more agressive this time, not even bothering to turn to face him. “I have come to feed this wretch what his vices had been taking from him. What are you to do here? Sin? Laugh on my face? Try and pull him even deeper down the chain of vices that control him?”

“Second option, mixed in with a bit of the first… I mean, have you had the beef these guys serve here? Oh, it’s absolutely delightful. You just can’t have one piece. Or three. As for the sinning..”

Sweating out of sheer stress, Tristana finally spoke up. “Dear I don’t think–”

“We sin alright.”

“Then go. Enjoy your time. You lost her once. You’ll lose her again.”

“Or you will fall. Dear? You heard the angel.” He purred, blowing a kiss to Poppy that dripped with sarcasm as he got up and left, Tristana following soon after.

They could be heard screaming in the distance at each other, along with a burst of spine-chilling laughter from the Devil.

“D-do... you.. should I ask..?”

“Silence.”

"Y-yeah. Yeah, sorry..."

Though it was a lot colder now, and the only people there were the waiters cleaning up the hurried mess left behind, Rumble had to resort to wiping the sweat of his fur with the table's cloth. Being ever so gently as to not make the pain inside his chest flourish again.

They ordered a meal, rice, and beef for and though Rumble started shoving it straight away down his gullet, barely chewing as he just tried to fill his stomach, while Poppy prayed. Halfway through tearing his beef apart with his fingers, barely touching the fork and knife, he realized Poppy was just praying on top of her plate. Salad. Literally just lettuce, lettuce and more lettuce with some tomato slices on top.

"Uh.. Poppy?"

Her eyes opened, flaming with Arclight, clearly annoyed.

Rumble, however, was nothing if not persistant. And annoying.

"You... sure you're just going to eat that?"

"It is enough to sustain this mortal form. And to make it less obvious. So yes, I will 'just' eat this."

"I mean, that tastes like crap. You're eating leaves and some fruit. Fruit? I dunno. You sure you don't want this?" He held what was left of the beef with a fork, showing it off to her.

"Does it taste like... bad, too?"

"Beef? Nah, it's great."

"Then I will stick to this. Pleasure is sin. You will come to lear--"

"Wait, what the hell? I'm... eating something that tastes good. I'm not ramming someone in bed." He said, putting the fork and beef back in his plate, having to hold his hand due to the pain. Damn these stupid circles!

"It shall lead to gluttony."

"Well, I gotta tell you... ugh.. I love bread, alright? I'm not going to gorge myself on bread no matter how much I like it. Ca-can you make it stop again?" He hissed in pain, breathing slowly.

"Mhm." She clicked her fingers, and with a sigh of relief, Rumble pushed his plate forward.

"It isn't going to hurt. Just take a nibble? I mean, whoever's up there ain't going to banish you for nipping on meat, right? Like... uhh... you like your work, right? That gives you pleasure, yeah? And it doesn't count as sinning. So I think it's fine that I say this meat is mighty fine, and that you should try it."

Squinting, Poppy sighed. Well... he had a point, flimsy as it was. She really did enjoy bringing sinners into the fold once again. It almost filled her with sin herself sometimes.. Pride. Well, she hadn't gotten banished from heaven for that.

A nibble couldn't hurt.

By the time they were done, the sun was starting to dim on the horizon, and four plates were on their table. Poppy was giggling, Rumble was smiling, both of them had their hands covered in food. And truth be told? Neither of them could be happier.

On Tristana's house, however, a very snarky Devil laughed at a terribly worried Gunner.

"YOU JUST. WENT TO THE TABLE."

"Yeah!"

"YOU LITERALLY ANNOYED EVERYONE SO BADLY THEY LEFT."

"Yup!"

"Teemo what the absolute FUCK."

The Devil twirled around the room, floating just above the ground, smirking as he saw Tristana so utterly annoyed. "You know what I did is good, right? It's great, my dear! It's great!"

"Oh yeah let's just piss off an Angel. Yeah. Alright. Let's just find an Angel and fuck them up. Uh-huh. Annoy the crap outta 'em. Like what the fuck, dude?"

"Trist?" He was still giggling, but soon it stopped. "I didn't tell you why I fell yet, did I?"

She shook her head, and he made her sit down, resting on top of her lap, arms wrapped around her like a lover.

"Well... you promise not to laugh?" His cheeky grin faded, as he seemed almost sad. No, totally sad. Downright depressed, actually.

"It was... well." He shuffled a little, losing his sensual composure, the very heat of his body dimming. "I was like her, you know."

Taking a small break with each sentence, he continued, slumping into a sorrier state with each word. "I... had, I had met someone like you." His fur drying up. "Just as horny. Just as shameless." Even less warm than before. "And even more charismatic." His eyes fading.

"I... I let them break me and cast me aside. We had just... we had just finished our first laying. And t-then they broke me. They snapped my Halo." The fur on his neck becoming like straw, a spark away from flourishing in flames. "And I think, I think she feared that kind of punishment? Oh, dear Tristana... h-how much I howled... so loudly..."

She was softly caressing his fur through the story, trying to make him feel at ease.

"... please tell me you will not leave me?" He asked, skin flaking in a rather grim sight. No flesh underneath, just fiery chaos.

"I won't. It's fine. I don't, I don't need to know more. Shhh." Her hands caressed his fur ever so slowly, being careful not to make him fall apart even further. "It's ok."

"She repented. I fell for her and she repented. I.. I just.. I just want Poppy to go through it too." He hissed, Tristana having to retract her fingers as flames started to sprout through his body. They did not harm her, but primal fear still was stronger than her emotions. "And if Rumble does not repent... then at least... at least they will have lost one more angel. T-then, then I'll be happy. I just. I just don't want to go through this again. Don't leave me." He hugged Tristana tightly, the Gunner having to be ever so careful with her fingers to not insert them into where his skin had fallen.

There he stayed until they both fell asleep, Teemo's claws dug deep into her, as if to make sure she could not escape. She could not escape. For him. He couldn't handle it again...

Though the sun was now far gone, while Tristana and Teemo slept cuddling each other, Rumble was slaving himself over checking his mechanical beasts.

"Ok, Poppy?" He placed both of his hands on a lever, the Angel's Hammer ready to strike a large button. Usually, it was TRISTY's job to smash, but now that he had someone to coordinate with... it was just so much easier. "Ready?"

"Ready!"

"Here we go then!" He pulled the lever down, the machine rumbling to life, skulls made out of scrap flaring up and pipes hastily bolted together blasting up dark smoke, fire occasionally blasting from the skulls' eyes and mouth. The rectangularly shaped monstrosity of brass and iron started to shake uncontrollably, the sound of glass inside it tumbling about as if the machine was not working properly. Yet, with a blow to shake the Earth itself, Poppy smashed her hammer into the machine's button.

The sound of a hundred glass bottles getting splintered into shards invisible to the naked eye filled the night, and Rumble let out a delighted yell. Poppy laughed with joy, feeling overwhelmed with pure glee out of the fact she could actually use her Hammer again! This was pure bliss. Even if there was not the sound of heretics yelling, the song of rebirth was a suitable replacement.

"So! What are you doing with all that glass, Sinner mine?" Poppy asked, setting her feet on the ground, gentle as butterfly despite the seemingly heavy equipment.

"Make a visor for TRISTY. Replace these windows... maybe just try to get into doing sculptures with it. Oh, or like, oh shit yeah.." He scratched his chin, ideas for lightbulbs and warning lights flashing through his head the same way that the blinding pain flashed through his hand.

"I'M SORRY! Ugh..." He groaned. Poppy's smile slightly dimmed, but still showed happiness.

"Swear less. It will do you good."

"Yeah no sh....aying. No saying."

The black smoke billowed from the pipes, and once the pain settled, Rumble smiled again.

"Hey, Pops? Thanks."

Her cheeks flushed with Arclight. "Thank you, dear Sinner. You are.. slowly proving yourself."

They stared at the machine spewing its smoke through holes in the ceiling, flames occasionally sprouting from the holes at the hot temperatures. The orange and black monstrosity wasn't helped to look any nicer by the silly details Rumble added, but she couldn't help but admit to enjoying its aesthetic, as a parent would enjoy their children's drawing.

"Well, uh. It shouldn't be that late yet. You want to help me move some more things inside for tomorrow?"

"As long as you are not simply idling by. Guide the way, Sinner mine."

"By the way.." He asked,  grabbing the keys for his Shitty Contraption for Organizing Trash. S.C.O.U.T., for short... and unlike the asshats that sniffed mushrooms and poisoned each other all day, this was actually useful.  Like a lifter, the only difference being the fact it was made of garbage parts... and had a spiked tip. Truth be told, it was just as much a lifter as a jousting machine. Sadly, he hadn't tried jousting with anything but trash. Shame. When would he realize that machine's design?

"...uh, yeah?" Poppy asked, Rumble staring at his keys with a troubled look, being snapped out of thinking about his S.C.O.U.T. by his Angel.

"AH. Uh.. oh shiiilinders. Cylinders. L-like trashcans, you know. I could use some. But uh, not, not what I wanted to talk about. I mean like... why didn't you kill me or her yet?"

Poppy chuckled, placing a cold hand on his shoulder. Soft, gentle, like a breeze at springtime. Just as light, too, despite the materials of the glove. "And doom you to eternity in the cesspit of Hell? Enough angels have been broken, Sinner mine. There will be no more Light spilled by petty squabbles, no more blood or children wasted. I do not want more souls being damned yet crippled, unable to do evil. I want souls pure of light and sane of mind, willing to do all that is kind and good."

"Oh, so you're in because Trist was a Gunner and stuff?"

"A Gunner? You mean she was in a military organization?"

"I mean.. yeah? Wait you guys just get randomly assigned to people with different amounts of sin?"

"Uh.. no? We're told in case they do something truly heinous. Tristana summoned a Fallen One. This is no simple thing. But.. really? She was a Soldier? I prefer to deal with them myself.. how odd. I usually meet them on the battlefield."

Rumble had sat on the table he picked his keys from, a small little metal shelf with it's lower tiers missing. Thankfully the Yordle was as light as they came, so it had no problem handling his weight. "Go on? You just pray to people on the battle, you listen to their prayers or..?"

"We look for the dying ones in their last moments. We grant them peace, and a chance to atone for their sins in the afterlife through thorough punishment at the Purgatory. Nothing quite as severe as hell. Repeating words, outfitting our Archangels, creating the wheels that house our true selves."

"I... don't even know where to begin, if it's with the slavery or the wheel thing. What the fuckeruhhh...nuggets?

To his surprise, his hand did not sting.

"Fuckernuggets?" Nothing. "Shitdoodles?" Nope. "Bullcraparangsia?" Relief from the anxiety of another sting.

"...W-what sounds are you making, and slavery? What are you talking about? As for the wheels, I do not think your mortal eyes are quite ready for the magnificence of Heaven and the Light."

"But it was made by dudes from Runeterra..?"

"Who will one day find their way to Heaven, yes. In fact, I think you will make a fine addition there once you die. If you actually repent and help your friend repent too, that Tristana of Bandle City, your fine might be a lot less... punishing. And your time in Heaven more enjoyable, too."

"That just sounds like exchanging favors at this point. I'm not against it, just... wow, really? Heaven really work like that? Man. I gotta tell Ziggs."

"Ziggs? I remember that poor fool. His anecdotes were quite funny when I kept him in Heaven's gate. Oh, he is in Bandle City as well? May we visit him one of these days?"

"Yeah! He's my buddy. He talked about me?"

"He did speak of an Engineer of unmatched stubbornness and creativity... well, you do match the bill."

Rumble blinked, before smiling in disbelief. "I love that guy so much oh Gods.."

"Pardon?"

"HE'S SO CUTE. He's a brother to me! Holy crappringles?" A pause to see if the pain would come. "...Holy crappingles is he just the absolute bestest mate I could hope for. Like, he died? And spent time?! Talking about me! WHILE DEAD! I wouldn't talk about me! I'm a fucking asshole!" The searing pain hit him like a truck, and once again, due to her benevolence, Poppy made it disappear.

"T-that.. oof, that was well deserved alright. But, yeah. I'm so happy. We can go meet him, yeah. You know Poppy... if more angels are like you, I think I'll like heaven."

"You would enjoy Heaven anyway. Simply follow our rules. Now, Sinner. Back to the matter at hand."

"Oh? Oh, right, trash heaving. Alright. Give me a lift and we can start again."

Poppy closed her eyes and put him on the S.C.O.U.T.'s seat, letting him drive piles of salvageable scrap inside the warehouse.

This Yordle world was so much more different than the Human one she was usually visiting. There were still screams, but of confusion and joy instead of pain and despair. They were stubborn, stubborn as her will, and gave no ground even when faced with a Repenter. So savvy they were with things that no one in their right minds should delve in!

There was some sort of admiration to be had for these hardy creatures. They were quite different from humans, they were.

She liked it.

[drabbles-n-stuff]

The Angel lifted her head, feeling the cold breeze and soft dew dripping on her.

Teemo lifted his head from a Scout manual he was reading, eyes widening and suddenly looking towards the door. Tristana’s house was much cleaner now they lived together, even if they moved through sheets just as often as they actually fucked. On the bath, Tristana slowly scrubbed away the dried, dead skin from a few a little too rough scratches that Teemo gave her during sex. The Demon popped up on the door frame, waving. “Uh, dear. Hell is calling me. You mind if I take a quick trip back there?”

“Yeah? Sure. That shouldn’t be more than a week, right? Yeah, I can live with that.” She purred, and as Teemo tried to walk away, her wet hand got hold of his fuzzy neck and pulled him back towards her. “Nuh-uh. You’re forgetting something.”

“I thought I was the Demon here.” He purred, but still obliged to her wish. A deep, tongue-filled kiss was given before Teemo waved his final bye. “Goodbye, dear. Don’t wait up.” He cracked a smirk, but as soon as he burst into flames, he was actually just inside Lulu’s forest. He could not go to hell yet, after all, Tristana was still alive. His reason for a quick break was the appearance of someone who knew he was here. An Angel? Really? The Gunner had been fucking incessantly for The Council only knows how many years and he takes a quick nibble on her and they’re already sniffing him out?! At least here, his scent would be masked, even if she was in danger. They probably wouldn’t harm her, though. If they did…

… what would he do if they did? Did he have to leave? He couldn’t bear to look at a Seraph, let alone a Repenter. He hugged his knees, his Scout disguise fading, then his Demonic form, only the swirling chaos that was his broken soul remaining, horns made of darkness weeping blood almost as much as his own golden eyes, staining the dry leaves with his unholy nature as much as the rain soaked the soil beneath.

In Tristana’s case, she was dealing with it pretty damn well. She had bought a coat for this kind of occasion, too. A nice, hefty Pilot jacket to keep the chills away from spending so much damn time near a constant heat source. Puffy sleeves, army green and neck fluff that reminded her so much of Teemo. Ah, that sly little devil. Were they a couple now? She wanted to say yes, but he wasn’t here to answer that question… and he’d probably say no, right? Demons and stuff, probably not to keen on the whole love thing, despite what Lulu said. Shame… he seemed like such a cool guy, too.

The air around suddenly got a lot colder, however, and despite the dark grey skies, it looked like the sun had just come out. And with it, a knock on her door? Did Lulu come to ask for something? There was the impression that everything around her got so much lighter and… no, that was too weird to be true. Probably just a side effect from spending a couple of weeks with a demon, right? Yeah.

As she opened the door, the word “What the…” escaped her lips before she could even think of repeating them.

Clad in silver armor fit for the royal knights of a King, hair bound in an odd braid that resembled a crown, somehow. Intricately weaved and radiating with light. Merely looking at her was enough to send shivers down Tristana’s spine… and those eyes! Piercing so deeply into her own that it felt like getting stabbed, not that the fact they glowed helped. That would have thrown her off, but maybe the time with Teemo had desensitized her to beings with unnaturally glowing irises. The oddest thing was, in fact, the massive Hammer shaft that seemed to expand behind her, the sides of this ungodly large tool actually thicker than her entire body. A soldier or something? What, was she gonna get conscripted into another kind of service?

“…can I–”

“DO NOT BE AFRAID, ye who revels in sin and debauchery!” Poppy said, bowing with the grace of a noble despite the immense weight that must have been put onto her. “I have come to thee with an opportunity one of your kind will not be able to refuse. I am Poppy, Keeper of Light and Redeemer of Souls. And you, Tristana, though your womb has been deeply tainted and even your flesh writhes with the marks of that which we can not–”

“Yeah yeah, I see where this is going. Redeeming?”

“…If you may, Tristana of Bandle City. Please do not cut me off.” The angelic nature seemed to dissipate, and what was left was a Yordle. A very strong, tall, majestic yordle to be sure! But still a Yordle. It actually made Tristana sigh in relief… somehow that just seemed better. “I’m serious here. You are in a lot of trouble. I am willing to help you!”

“Thanks! All the help I want is you to find my demon boy and get him back here once he’s done with his business to pound me senseless again! Can you do that?” The Gunner asked, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame, raising an eyebrow. Poppy looked more confused than anything, eyes wide in pure amazement.

“…Sorry, ye are to tell me, Angel of good faith and will, that you would rather rot in the boiling pits of tar deep inside Hell than accept the good hand of your saviors?”

“As long as I have that Devil with me on the pool? Man, I’d call that a party.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Look, I appreciate the fact you guys think I’m important enough to be saved! But I just don’t really… care, you know? Wait. Maybe I care a little.” The Gunner looked over her shoulder, before leaning in close. The Angel smiled, leaning forward to hear what she had to beg for. Gold? Their sweet ambrosia? Wings? Heaven had it all.

“Can I bring my demon boy with me up there? Like, can y–”

“What KIND OF HERETIC DO YOU TAKE ME FOR?” Poppy recoiled in pure disgust, eyes shining with Angelic fury, but after blinking, it quickly dissipated. “I… am sorry for that outburst. Angels fall. Angels are Broken. And thus, they are no longer Angels… and never again will be. Ye mortals are different, though. Tristana of Bandle cit–”

“Nah, then I think I’m pretty good.” Tristana did a hang loose motion towards Poppy, and closed the door on her face, going to the Kitchen to get some coffee. A few weeks ago, this visit would be enough to have her clinging to Lulu and begging for advice… now? Well, once you see your own soul and that of your boyfriend-to-be-maybe a few dozen times? You get used to weird stuff.

The Redeemer was left completely speechless in the door, however. What… had just happened? Did a Mortal not only have the audacity to speak over her, to close the door on her face but also to deny eternal salvation in exchange for morbid acts of pleasure?! Even the most rugged soldier on the cleanest of battlefields would accept her blessings and pass away in bliss, to accept their place in Heaven! THIS?!

Oh, this would not stand.

But she couldn’t keep annoying her. No, she knew how Humans worked… more or less. Tristana was a soldier, right? Soldiers defiled their sacred bodies on places full of alcohol. Bars, was it? Maybe if Poppy could just convert one or two people there… make the soil so clean no weeds could grow. Yes.

“I will return, fret not, Immortal soul of this confused sinner!” Poppy said, flying away in a mist of light before she could hear a very loud and angry gunner yelling “FUCK OOOOOFF.”

And on the Pub that the Sinner enjoyed spending her time on before meeting her Demon, a Knightess of Silver and Light stepped through the front door… yet sadly, when it was such a miserable day and so early in the morning, not many people other than the poor miserable sods that came to drown their sorrows in beer were present. Amongst them, the only idiot dumb enough to get interested at the creature exhaling power from every inch of her body.

“Do not be afraid, ye sinners broke of mind and soul!” She spoke, and just as the bartender was about to complain about the Knightess raising her voice, a large pouch of gold which wasn’t there a moment ago dropped on his counter. “Please. Ye must offer me those sinful drinks so I may cleanse them. Uh.. ‘beer’. Give me all the beer.”

The Yordle behind the counter gladly filled a couple of glasses full and pushed them to the corner of the counter, keeping her as far away from the drunk patrons as possible, ignoring her as best as he could while she chanted prayers.

Slowly she touched the glasses after every solemn hymn, caressing them in symbols alien to anyone present. The bizarre way she broke in, announcing her arrival, now 'blessing’ cups? The idiot cleaned his shirt and shorts as best as he could, caressed his mohawk and walked right up to the woman, despite every single piece of his mind screaming at him to keep away from her out of some kind of sheer, primal fear.

“Hey.” Rumble purred, eyeing her up and down, while the Angel simply ignored him. “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven, baby?”

“…I didn’t fall?” She spoke, turning around to face him now… or well, having to look down since their height disparity was at least two feet in difference, eyes so piercing he’d have guessed she could look through him. “I descended here as gracefully as the leaf of a tree.”

“Well, I gotta say I haven’t met a single flower as beautiful as this catch here.” He smirked, confident as ever despite the fact she could probably kill him with a punch. Maybe that’s what made him so confident.

“Indeed, Heaven’s beauty is unmatched by all sinful growth that spurs from the soil beneath.”

“Baby I can say you ain’t from below because you glow like sunshine.” At that specific comment, Poppy seemed to blush, looking at the walls around her before giving Rumble yet another confused look.

“Am I glowing?”

He sighed, but couldn’t help but smile. Well wasn’t she dumb. Seemed like he finally got a woman to match him! “Nah dear, but you’re adorable. What’s your name?”

“I am nothing but Heaven’s beauty. My name is Poppy, Keeper of Light and Redeemer. Do not try to make my soul swell with pride, for I am not one to be blinded by my own self.”

“Uh-huh. Don’t worry about that! I’m pretty sure I can love you enough to make up for that.” He climbed up one of the stools, leaning against the counter. “So do tell… you free tonight?”

“Unless you are to help me with my quest, I do not think we will talk much, Yordle.”

“Uh-huh. Well I think if you keep blessing glasses of beer, we’re going to run into each other quite a bit. Call me Rumble, by the way… I think you’re gonna be screaming that name sooner rather than later.”

“Rumble. Do tell me, Rumble. Do you know the Sinner that goes by the name of Tristana? A woman truly neck deep in the woeful needs of your bodies.”

“Uh… Tristy? Yeah, she’s pretty dope.” Poppy smiled, leaning in closer. “Why do you want to know…?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I seek to Redeem her, oh Yordle. That man she sleeps with is not one of light like you.” The comment got a chuckle out of Rumble, but she continued. “He is a being far, far worse. You must help me get Tristana back to the light. Will you be able to do that?”

“Yeah, I guess I can think up something.” He rolled his eyes, but the Angel’s eyes went wide with glee.

“You will be rewarded one day, oh Rumble of Bandle City. I will leave these with you, and may this show I am willing to compromise with those that look for the greater good.” Poppy got up and walked through the door, leaving Rumble with quite a few rounds of beer and another magic sack of coins. Not that the little Mechanic was complaining but wasn’t that a weird experience.

While Poppy was left to scheme a plan to bring Tristana back into the fold, Rumble finished as many beers as he could before moving to Ziggs and Heimer’s workshop, left scratching his head as he hoped to get some advice with how to deal with that weird girl. Truth be told, he was pretty fascinated with how beautiful and quirky she was. Covered in armor, giving away beer for free, and a bunch of gold?! She also did claim she was an angel. Fuck, was she one? It did feel weird when he spoke to her. But that was just because she was pretty, right?

Eh, or something like that.

The building that Ziggs had rented for his stay in Bandle was an old garage for planes, repurposed for some sort of massive project he had in mind, almost completely refurbished for a more scientific aesthetic. There were barracks inside for all the helping hands, and Rumble would honestly not be surprised to find a goddamn restaurant and disco in there too. Knowing Ziggs, if he had the budget, he’d probably put in both.

Rumble walked in without even knocking, staring at Ziggs and… yikes, Heim. The Scientist was hunched over a table with schematics on top, while Ziggs walked around the room. They were in a heated argument, something about reflux control? Hextech stuff, probably… not his field.

“…Ah. You didn’t tell me we’d have visitors, Ziggs.” Heimerdinger spoke, using his head to show the other where Rumble was. “Then I think we are done for now. But heed what I told you! It WILL be unpredictable!” The Scientist spoke, storming away past Rumble, leaving most of his tools behind.

“Jackass of little faith…” Ziggs grumbled, lifting up his glasses and smiling. Without the lenses making it look like he had eyes the size of celestial bodies, he really looked less insane! Even if his ideas were downright frightening at times, because of how ambitious they were or how destructive. Sometimes, both.

“Bad day?” The Runt asked, slowly walking forward. “Because I just had the WILDEST thing happen…”

“No, I’m just… fuck, you make TRISTY and that idiot can’t realize we can do something just like it except, and I’m sorry but it’s true, it’d be better.”

“No offense taken, except for the fact I’m not included here.”

“The climate is already pretty damn rough as it is, having another 'Bandle Boy’ here would probably have him tear up that shitty hair of his. But hey, you didn’t come here to hear me shit talk Heim. So, what is it?”

“Yeah, I came to shit talk Heim myself.” Ziggs managed to somewhat dull his laugh, making it sound more like a seal coughing than a chuckle, while Rumble laughed with glee. “Nah, Nah… alright, so. There was this girl who burst into the bar like a damn Queen who owned the place. She is SUUUPER fucking cute. Like, think Trist? Ok, now a little cuter.”

“Wow, you’d throw down with someone if they ever said it. Teemo really broke you in that bad?”

“I still don’t like that guy… but fuck man, Trist’s happy, you know? I… yeah, look, back to the girl at hand. Like, dude. She’s ENORMOUS. And rich? Like man. Man! Oh yeah, she also talked about being an angel because I don’t know, I guess she’s off in the head? I’m pre–”

“Yo. No, you can’t just drop that bombshell and call her mad! Ok, you said she…” Ziggs went silent, counting on his fingers and mumbling silent words, looking up at the ceiling in a thoughtful state.

After a while, he finally shook his head and flailed his arms, as if he was able to literally push his thoughts away. He landed both of his hands on Rumble’s shoulders, clasping tightly. Uncomfortably tightly.“Ok. Ok, ok, ok. Rumble. Do you believe her?”

“…should I?”

“Tell me?”

“Not… really. You do?”

“Ok, what was the first, THE FIRST thing she said as she came in. You said like a Queen. What did she say?”

“Uh.. something like 'fear not’? 'Do not despair’? A little bit of column A, lil’ bit of column B maybe? Uhhh…”

“Do not be afraid?”

“Yeah, that’s it! Wait how did you–”

Ziggs shook Rumble roughly, staring him straight in the eyes. “DUDE WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER.”

“Chill man! I just… like, hit on her a little. Then she gave me a bunch of beer and a pouch of gold? I also said I’d help her do… uh, something with Trist? She spoke about uh… redeeming, light… she also called Teemo like, 'not of light’. It was wild.”

“WHAT THE FUCK. Ok ok ok, sit the fuck down, we gotta have a talk.”

Ziggs picked a chair and pushed it towards Rumble, sitting on the table after pushing a few bolts and nails away from it. “Ok, so. Don’t fucking open that trap because this is gonna be a bumpy ride and you’ll want to joke and call bullshit and I swear I’ll throw a wrench at you if you even think about it. In fact just for good measure… nah, nah I’m joking. But look.”

Breathing in deeply, trying to find a way to explain it to Rumble without looking like a goddamn fool. Ah, fuck it. He may as well just go all out. “That girl you met is an Angel, Teemo is probably some kind of Demon, Tristana is possibly in danger and you’ve just gotten yourself a one-way ticket to hell. Ok, now I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP. I WILL THROW THIS WRENCH AT YOU. Done? Alright. Sit tight.”

“Look you know when we were building Megakritz and a bar of metal hit me straight in the neck and I didn’t respond for two days before just walking it off? I kind of died. Seriously why didn’t you check my… ah, water under the bridge. Anyway, I couldn’t get into Heaven but I spent some time at the gates talking to some angels. They’re kind of stuck up but they LOVE saying 'Do not be afraid’ to anyone that passes by. It gets annoying after a while. Ok so Heaven didn’t want me, Hell didn’t want me either because my sins were basically like stealing a few candies and mild violence. But I’m not exactly prime Limbo material nor am I that much of a dick to need Purgatory. They just didn’t know what to do… so they just kind of threw me back into life. Dude, my neck was shattered! It was insane looking at it! Also apparently I’m a cat deep down. So if you ever see a brown cat with green eyes do throw me a pack of catnip, and know dead me will appreciate it.”

Rumble leaned back on his chair, running his hand through his mohawk, the other resting lazily on his thigh. “So you died.”

“Mhm.”

“And I’m doomed.”

“Pretty much.”

“Fuck me.” He sighed, before laughing. “Yeah, holy shit what the fuck! So great. I spoiled my chance for eternal salvation because I wanted to be with a cute girl. Yeah, that’s fine. What the fuck. What the fuuuuuck…” He slumped on his chair, resting both of his hands over his face, before jumping out of it with a speed that honestly frightened Ziggs.

“TRIST. TRISTANA. Look the, the angel girl, she spoke about Trist and Teemo. You said something about danger, right? Ok, so, uh, is there anything I can do to help her? I don’t… Trist is happy. She deserves to be happy, so please, can’t you just, I don’t know, blow her up back to heaven?”

“Y'ain’t going back to heaven after getting blown by a guy if you get my drill.” Ziggs giggled, waving a hand with no fucks to give. “Look, she’s a Redeemer. I met two of these back in my dead days. Dude, time worked weird there. They never harmed anyone? They’re just stubborn as shit and really mouthy. If you want to help Trist just… I don’t know, make her go away.”

“I can do that. I’m pretty good at making women run…” Rumble sighs, putting up a half-hearted smile.

“Don’t put yourself down, dude. Go out there. I dunno, ask Trist about it all? I’d say go look for Lulu but fuck is she kind of weird and I don’t like Veigar. But hey, you want to try your luck…”

“I’m going with Trist. Thanks.” As he got up and was ready to leave, he noticed what was a soft rain before became a full-blown storm, scratching his head at the open garage door, finally realizing that’s where the cool breeze was coming from! He… wouldn’t make it to the junkyard in these conditions.

“Uh… you got a spare room?” Rumble turned around, as Ziggs got out of the table and nodded towards some small shacks, probably used to keep supplies back in the more military focused days of this garage, now repurposed as living spaces.

It was… rather cramped inside them, but there were warm blankets and a pretty damn comfy bed. More than what Rumble could lay claim to. After a quick before bedtime conversation with his friend, Rumble laid down, sighing as he stared at the dull iron ceiling.

“I really fucked this one up.”

And quietly he slept, as sounds of raindrops hitting the ceiling of the large building echoed even inside the shack, leading to a rather pleasant setting to sleep in.

Morning came.

The rain had stopped some hours ago, and Ziggs’ noises were the thing that woke up the overworked mechanic. Slumping out of bed shaking from the cold air, feeling even colder due to just having left the warm, comfy blankets. Seems like his old friend was getting ready for a new day, and judging by the teapot he had, ready for Heim to visit again.

“Ziggs?” Rumble spoke softly, walking closer, even his fuzzy body unable to keep the cold away. “Uh… thanks, man. Seriously.”

“Don’t worry. You need a…?” Ziggs pointed at his own uniform, smiling. It had sleeves. Man, Rumble fucking wishes he had sleeves!

“Nah… Nah, I’m good, I’ll, I can handle this. I’m going to see Trist. Good luck with that project, dude!” Ziggs left Rumble with a hug, letting the mechanic go in his own personal quest.

Despite the skies slowly getting bluer as he walked, the cold wave didn’t stop, and every accidental step into a puddle sent him in a fit of cursing. By the time he got into Tristana’s house, be it from being a nervous wreck or due to simply being clumsy, he was soaked from the ankles below.

Knocking on the door, a loud groan could be heard from the inside, Tristana very begrudgingly opened the door, already looking pissed…

… before realizing it was Rumble!

“BUMBLE!” Tristana hugged him, a tight embrace that sent shivers down his spine and made his cheeks flare up, thankfully the fur did a mostly good job at covering it up.

“Uh.. h-hey, Trist. Yeah, can we… go in?”

“Yeah? Take a seat. Oh, dude, I just had the worst frickin’ d… uh… no, y'know what, I shouldn’t bother you with those things.”

“You met an angel,” Rumble spoke softly, going towards her couch and sitting down, hunched over himself with his arms resting on his lap. “I… met her.”

“Ah, fuck.” Trist sighed, walking over to him and sitting beside him, one arm wrapped around his shoulders. “What did she say? Did she.. uh… just, what did she say?”

“That Teemo is a dick and I’m to help her purge you. B-but like! I… I don’t know, I think I might have an idea? Maybe? I’m…. am I a good guy?”

“Bumble. You are the sweetest and softest guy I know.”

“Trist… really. Don’t, not as a friend. Just tell me. Pure and raw. Even if it hurts.”

“Oh.” She left out a chuckle, quickly catching herself in the act and going silent. Not a good time to think about dirty jokes. “Well… you… are kind of obsessive. I don’t need to remind you about TRISTY… even if it’s really sweet you named a robot after me! But uh. You also drink way too much for your own good… you cheat way too much too. Both ways. Don’t think I don’t know that.”

“So am I going to heaven or hell?”

Tristana smiled a terribly fake smile, hoping he wouldn’t have asked that. “… painfully honest again?”

“You don’t need to tell me. Ok so, what is the Angel here for? Redeeming someone, right? Maybe if I just give my own soul, because I guess I have one now, to her… maybe she’ll leave you and your boy alone?”

“Nonononono! Rumble what the fuck! What the fuck! What if that pisses her off? Or what if I lose you, and then she comes back for me? I, look, I know a girl, she–”

“Trist. Please. Ok then how about this… I’ll… I’ll try distracting her until you come up with a better plan. That’s what I’m gonna do, ok?”

“Rumble.”

“I know what I’m doing!”

“You haven’t known what you were doing since you were like five, you’re gonna die and I’m gonna lose a great friend… just… can’t you follow me? Real quick?”

“Trist. Just this time?”

“… if you actually make me have to go to heaven drag your ass back here you better believe I will and I won’t stop talking about it.”

“Fine, fine. It’s going to be fine. Got it?”

“Got it. So… you… want something?”

“I’ll just… I dunno, I guess we wait for the Angel? Yeah…” Rumble nodded to reaffirm his own statement, Tristana softly tapping his back for comfort before getting up and back to cleaning her home.

When the dreaded knocking finally came, Rumble was the first to get up, while Trist just placed her broom away, sitting on the couch and expectantly watching their conversation.

“DO NOT BE AFRAID, YE OF LITTLE FAITH! I ha– wait, you are Rumble.”

“Indeed I am! And I have an offer you can’t deny me.” He smiled a coy smile, confident as ever.

“I am not one to barg–”

“My soul for the Heavens.”

“I am listening.”

“Look, if you just… leave the girl alone, alright? Take me. Try to repent me or something. Then maybe, much later you can come back to her. How about that? Deal?”

“Well! I see you are a good friend and eager to repent. I do think the process will be quick for thee, e'en if your friend still suffers the influence of devils.”

“Good! Alright! Well, I am eager to go to heaven then.”

Poppy grabbed both of his hands and slowly ran her thumbs over his palms, making the sign of seven circles on them before crossing it with a line. Two circles of his right had flared up, while on his left, all seven flared up in a bloodlike color.

“Oh.”

Wide-eyed she stared down at his palms, while Rumble looked mostly confused and somewhat frightened.

“Well it seems you are quite the sinner. Your soul might appease the Council once it is done repenting… but it will not protect her forever. I will come back.”

“Great! Well then you need to repent me. Let’s hope it’s quick.”

“Do not lie to my face.”

“… oh, you can actually… oh shit.”

“No swearing! I- ugh. Lead me to the house which you reside in, Rumble of Bandle City.” She went back to being as stoic as one could be, hands perfectly placed on her thighs, back straight as a soldier waiting for orders.

And of course, Rumble just kind of shuffled around the giant Yordle, walking to his house and still letting out enraged curses with every puddle he accidentally stepped on, even with Poppy reprimanding him with every word.

Their treck was long, and through the dirt roads just in front of Veilu’s forests, where the sound of crying echoed through the leaves softly hit them, so soft one would be forgiven for thinking they were going slightly mad. Neither of them had time to deal with the ghostly whimpers, and so their journey wasn’t interrupted… although, after a while, Poppy just decided to give the Mechanic her own battle boots, levitating to stop the puddles of cold mud from splashing her feet, and worse, her Armor! Now that would be a disaster.

He just kind of stomped forward however, boots making clear tracks in the mud with how hard he stepped, making his way up a hill wich finally started to show signs of leading somewhere. Even if those signs were literal piles of metallic trash along the road.

“Alright alright alright…” He rubbed his hands together, gracefully opening his arms and letting Poppy take in the absolute horror that was the junkyard. Heaps of twisted and broken scrap molded together in abominable creations, TRISTY being the rotting cherry on top of the cake of steamy garbage, and despite the Council not employing machinations such as these, it was easy to recognize the mace attached to her, and… tubes? Ballistae mounted on this armor? What a horrifying prospect!

“Rumble. You can not be really living in this situation. This is… unacceptable.”

“Nah, it’s pretty acceptable, actually. I got a nice bed… I got food… sometimes… it’s dope. C'mon. Get in.” He took the lead, kicking open the already rusty and bent gates, strolling through the rusty mood with no cares to give to the world. Letting the beautifully crafted golden details of the ivory and marble boots, made durable and comfy by holy magic, get covered in the filth on the ground.

Floating right behind, now even further away from the ground to the point her wings had almost become material due to the strain of this mortal form, a cloud of golden and cyan following her just behind, shaping up to something barely resembling wings. “This is a travesty. You need a better place to live in! Look at these beasts of rust you made with your very hands, there is much of light you can do instead, yet you pick to make these wretched forms?!”

“Yeah? It’s fun. Besides, there’s already way too many people doing good stuff… I don’t… I don’t, I, It’s not my job to be good. And no one’s gonna pay me as much as I want to be paid. Might as well do what I want, right? It isn’t like I’m actively hurting anyone!”

“Lack of action is a sin.” She huffed, flying over to his Mech, standing over it like a lit beacon. A sun, illuminating this sinful totem of envy and lust. “This whole place… sinful.”

“It sure as hell is. I like it this way though. I mean.. no one comes bother me. I don’t hurt anyone. It’s fine. It’s a good place.”

“It harms yourself.”

“So?”

“So… stop?”

“It’s fun. What am I to do instead?” He crossed his arms, leaning against a rusty, still wet barrel, hearing a rat squirm inside and run away.

“…Filth.” She hissed, even higher now, a good few feet in the air from him. “You live in a den of filth, surrounded by all that is sinful and harmful, you who have become so lazy as to accept this as common! You who works not for the good of others, but for personal gain! YOU! YOU WHO HAVE LOST ALL SENSE OF SELF! You… are now mine to Redeem.”

“Cool.” He nodded, unsure whether to be absolutely horrified or cry and accept it. Instead he simply… stood there, nodding. His mind unsure how to process the pure beauty and raw power in front of him. On top of him. Her greatness was… surrounding him.

“Then we will begin. Inside we go… we shall leave the Incandescent Sun to dry this land of disease. We will clean it later. Now for your organization.” The Angel spoke, allowing Rumble to guide her into the run-down warehouse, now repurposed to be a workshop.

The roof, large as it was, almost completely riddled with holes. The walls barely holding up together, clearly fixed up over and over again to keep the place from falling down. In a distant corner, almost covered up by piles of trash, was what seemed like a bunch of cloth was actually revealed to be his personal abode, surrounded by heaps of garbage. There was almost a method to his confusing totems of filth, horrible skull-like symbols built on the sides of barely recognizable cubes and triangles.

Walking through those piles, Poppy groaned out loud in pure disgust, while Rumble simply kicked away some spent bottles, a surprising ammount for a single Yordle. “And welcome home, my friend.” He spoke proudly, showing off his cushion laying on the cold concrete ground, a pillow and a surprisingly clean and comfy looking blanket. Ignoring the bottles and bottles of beer coupled with the bizarre mangled scrap, it was… no, it still looked like a hobo had set up shop there.

“This is nothing but filth.”

“Ok I can admit I should throw out the glass stuff bu–”

“No, this all. This is a monument of corruption, the very existance of such place exists only to seep its dark roots deep in the dank soil and poison all around, the water below, the roots, the trees, the leaves. This place is a piece of the Dark Place in this very Earth, and you help mantain it. I can’t believe it…”

“I… what the fuck?” He as stumped. Really? He picked up one of the metalic rectangles, about the size of his torso, wich Poppy simply stared at unimpressed.

Then, he pressed a button on one of its sides.

Te rectangle opened up, a loud scraping sound as the rusty metal struggled to lift a plataform holding various precious little trinkets, assorted odds and baubles with no real value or interest, and generally just really tiny, pretty things. Under it soon was revealed another plataform, though this one was empty, probably due to the lack of space… or trinkets.

“I repurpose things.”

“I… see?” She finally stopped floating, the angelic energy from her wings floating to her feet, wich turned into sandals fit to grace a true Queen, dust and rust being swept away as if wind was coming from them. “You have made a complicated chest.”

“Well… I was thinking of making it more than just 'a chest’. A chest you can just punch through, or force open. This if made with… less.. trash, and maybe some other kind of lock tather thn 'button’, could be a way safer chest. And because of this..” He poked the cogs that lifted up one of the plataforms, wich almost was poked off due to the stress applied to it. “.. I can make it multiple tiers! I can make it fit way more than a normal chest. And be safer. And guess what? It’s not just because it’s trash that it is bad! In fact, it’s good because of it! It means I haven’t spent other materials to make something that could possibly be a huge waste.”

“Uh-huh. Well, you have made a chest. Congratulations! You still have a junkyard surrounding you! Rust still seeps in the ground, junk still is the place where plague and disease take their roots in!” She hissed, ever unwilling to take a break from chastitizing everyone around her.

“You want me to take Rust away from metal. That’s.. impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible.”

“To you, sure, but I can’t fly and I sure as fuck–”

“Ok look I’m going to swat you with arclight every time you say a swear word. Ok?”

“Why? I’m just swearing, I’m not commiting a fuc–” His sentence was cut shot by the sensation of steam burning his cheek, making him recoil and clutch it… before realizing nothing really happened to him.

“Rude. Not even one of the worst burns I got recently, either.” He grumbled, straightening his back and trying to ook a little more imposing. He was still just barely under two feet and a half, while the Angel stood at four feet, even stepping on the ground. Clearly, she didn’t have much of an idea of what a Yordle was before touching down, did she?

And as they bickered and whimpered and Rumble got hit again at least a few times, in the forest, Teemo stirred. His crimson form now a dull grey, horns barely dripping blood. It looked like he was about to collapse.

But instead, he got up, feeling what little of his strenght he had coming up to form his Incubi form. He was not one of Light, not anymore. But whoever this Angel was… they were far away from Tristana. And thankfully, she was stil alive. He could feel her pulse, the mark left on her neck a faint sort of bond between the two.

A quick flight later, and Tristana was being smothered in kisses and nips from her lover, giggling incessantly. “Teemo! Already? Didn’t you… oh, dude. I got to tell you.”

“I already know.”

“Wait, really? Uh, then you’ll be happy to–”

“She left you alone?”

“…I’d like to finish a sentence but yeah, she did. How do you… were you spying me from hell? Wait, were you this woried that you came back? Awwn, that’s adorable! Kind of creepy, I don’t want you staring over me all the time, but still cute!”

“I… long… long story.”

“We have all day.”

“You have. I’ll… I’ll hang around. I might disapear again. Ok?”

“Sure. But uh… are you ok?”

“Huh? I’m always good with you, dear.”

“No, I mean…” Trist got a hold of his neck fur, and pulled. His fur felt like straw rather than the soft sea of delight that she had touched a day, maybe two ago… and to both of their surprises, a rather fat chunk of fur came out. “… I don’t, I don’t think this is OK.”

“I’ll handle it later.” He kissed her, but now that the excitement of kissing him again passed, and the worry of his fur too… she wasn’t sweating. Teemo was in the same room as her, and yet she wasn’t dripping water as if she had just come out of a steamy bath on a hot summer day. If anything, she was feeling kind of chilly.

“Yeah. Just don’t… get back safe?” She asked, with a smile.

“I promise I will.”

Teemo kissed her again, not her lips this time, a soft kiss on her forehead, so she would be sure he was saying the truth. And off the door he went, towards the Angel, feeling his own self getting colder with every passing moment. He didn’t enjoy it. At all. Being near his… bretheren. The ones that didn’t fall. And a Redeemer no less…

He stopped just on the hill that led to the Junkyard, overhearing the heated argument of the Angel and the… ah, what was his name? Tristana’s friends. Bumbly idiot, or something. Bruno? Bumo? Eh, not important.

What was important, was the Angel that left the building, holding her Hammer in a stance of pilgrimage. Oh, she was pissed then. And he knew her.

Oh, he knew her.

Rumble followed her just outside, giving up on the chase before it even started, actually. Teemo hid amongst the leaves of the Summoners’ forest, smiling his devilish grin.

He followed her, watching her groan, pray, kick, pray and yell. A good half an hour just watching her judge her choices, ocasionally glancing deeper in the forest. Once she finally sat down on her knees, as if meditating.

“Hey Pigtails.”

“Te… Fallen.”

She had felt him, leaving the safety of the forest and landing right behind her.

“Do not attempt to touch me, Fallen One.”

“The Council doesn’t keep an eye here. We’re literally right beside their woods. Then again… if they did all keep their eyes around the forest, it would explain why they can never get anything done.”

“…Still.” She said, sternly, before adding to it soon after, a lot more softly. “Please no.”

“Then we’ll simply talk.” He sat down aswell, smiling. “Someone got your panties in a twist?”

“I don’t… get it?”

“Who made you mad.”

“You, especially. Look at what you did… what you’re doing! To this city. Oh, absolute vileness. It is… disgusting…” She held her hands together in prayer, tears dropping ever so slowly.

“I didn’t come here myself, you know.” He purred.

“Yet you still came.”

“I did. And so did you. Do you really dislike this place that much? I like the people here. They’re not… they’re not that different from the man that made you you.”

“And not too different from the hellish beasts that crawl in your new Home.”

“Nah. You remember Eve? Now that’s a fall from grace. Eveyone else is kind of alright, though. Save for a few… ugh. Look, I know, I’m not going to turn you into a Warlady or a mere Imp. I was an angel too. I know you… don’t understand these things.”

“I understand all I need to.”

“Uh-huh. Just consider… maybe it isn’t worth it. This fight.”

“Yet I was born to fight.”

“No you…” He sighed. Of course, she was an Angel. Was he realy that stupid, once? Yeah. It sounds likely. Seeing as he was doing the same mistake that made him fall… again.

“Yeah. Yeah you were. Now… just keep in mind that not all wars need to be fought.”

“Yet it is my duty.”

“It sure is.”

“…leave her be, Devil.”

“You know I can’t do that either. And it isn’t because I’m trying to have an easy soul job.”

“Yet you can’t keep your sin away from her. Twisting her.”

“I only do what she asks me to do. Trust me.”

“Disgusting. This whole town. I… leave. Now.” She hissed, the Hammer on her back starting to crackle, light flaring up from the opened slits.

“Very well.” He nods, floating away to Tristana’s house, gleeful as ever.

He was warm.

Fiend.

Looking at the forest, light still blasting from the Hammer, she got up. Light, shiny light. And Darknees… Darkness. In the forest. Where the two of them lived. Not Teemo and Tristana. Those ghoulish spellcasters.

Every step she took made the leaves shake, and the forest was dead quiet. It was hard to feel anything inside that forest except dread, and the certainty of being watched. Every step ever so slow, guiding her towards the heart of the woods, the abandoned manor that housed the Mages. Quiet.

An open door.

She stood in front of, it, and knocked. “DO NOT BE AFRAID, ye who sins and trades with that wich is unholy!” Her voice boomed through the house, and there was… silence.

“…please come out.” She grumbled, knocking on the door. Nothing. Stepping in…

… oh, there they were.

“Rude.” Poppy’s voice was soft, but her composure stern.

“Well you’re in our domain now so no destroying us or our home.” Lulu giggled, sitting on her armchair, While Veigar stood vigil. Leaning forward, tapping her knees with glee and excitement, Lulu smirked. “Came to say hi? Or check if we’re keeping our end of the bargain?”

“I… I do not know what Bargain you speak of, but… I have come to do one myself.”

Veigar’s shadowy veil dropped, while Lulu gasped out of sheer delight. “OH, GOODIE!” Hopping out of her chair, she opened her arms, expecting a hug that didn’t come.

“You have a blight of sinners in this town.”

“Yeah, every town does. Weird, innit?” Lulu waggled her eyebrows, teasing Poppy, knowing she wouldn’t change her mind from this jab.

“And we are cleansing it. But… but these… fiends. That live on Bandle City. You… yordles. You have summoned devils to lay your women, and praise knowledge and metal more than the very Lords and Ladies above. I seek to cleanse… two people.”

“That’s going to be a hefty price, you know? Most Yordles are our friends.” Lulu grumbled, lowering her arms and crossing them, standing on the tip of her toes. Not to try and match Poppy’s height, that was nearly impossible… just to feel a little taller. It made her happy. Something told her she’d need to be happy. “Who are they?”

“Tristana and Rumble of Bandle City.”

This time, even Veigar couldn’t help himself. A croak, raspy and unidentifiable, followed by Lulu’s cheerful and excited laugh. No, she wasn’t happy. She was mocking. Mocking this being of light.

“Why do you want to cleanse them, exactly? Because I don’t know if you know, we helped her summon her boyfiend. Hehehee.. boifiend.” Lulu giggled, looking away.

“Before she loses the process..” Veigar interjected, stepping forward. “… I think she’s trying to say that no matter what price you offer, those are our friends. One of them, at least. Truth be told… Tristana enjoys the Mechanist’s antics. And that is good enough for me to not want to charge for cleansing him. Or doing it, at all. We will stop you of redeeming our dear friend, as for the boy… well, if he will accept it, who are we to say no? Take his soul and be happy you got anything at all.”

“What he said!” Lulu skipped over to him, puffing her cheeks and frowning to show how mad she was. “No touching boifiend and Trist!”

“Very… well.” By the sword of the Justicar… if she could just smash their precious items to dust! But this was not a kind, nor necessary act. Poppy bowed, out of respect for the ways of Heaven than anything else, and got nods from both of them. More than she expected from their kind.

Meanwhile, Rumble tried stuffing all of his bottles in a dumpster. There were… a lot. That was a lot of glass. A lot of things could be done with glass. A lot of money could be earned. And truth be told, he could use new windows in most places.

His task seemed neverending, and as he realized one dumpster would not be enough, he also realized TRISTY’s smasher was going to make more of a mess than salvage it. He needed a big metal slab, to heat up his furnace,  get the casts ready… fucking hell. But the money.

But he could do it later.

Keeping the sacks of collected bottles that didn’t fit on the dumpster just below it, Rumble sat on a throne of rusty metal, made relatively safe to sit in by the addition of an airplane seat and matresses repurposed as steps and armrests. Oh, he felt like a King alright.

Aaand here came the cutie he wished he never met.

Flying over the orange ground, where barely any grass manged to sprout from the rust, Poppy stood face to face with Rumble. Oh, she would not kneel to this self-righteous worm. “What makes you think you deserve a throne?”“

"The fact I built it myself? That’s pretty impressive.”

“Anyone can do that.”

“And no one does. Beside, no one’s really complaining besides you… and you’re not from the Kingdom. Nah I’m just fucking with yo–” Another smack of her Arclight on his cheek, making him growl. “F… hecking stop! I’m not a King, I’m just messing with you. I just like a comfy place where I can feel tall. It just so happens Thrones are great for that! Yikes, don’t you know how to have any fun..?”

“My fun is cleansing sinners. And you… you are every bit of darkness. So I shall cleanse you over and over again, each of the seven ones ill be stripped away. Let us start by sloth. Up! Thy work is not done.”

“You want me to be less lazy? Alright. How about this. I will get my ass out of h– THAT WASN’T A –” Another smack.

“N-not.. a… b-butt… butt with A isn’t even a swear word!”

“No, but it means you are thinking of using one. You neeed to cleanse your mouth and mind like you will cleanse this place.”

“N-not.. as… b-butt… butt with A isn’t even a swear word!”

“No, but it means you are thinking of using one. You need to cleanse your mouth and mind like you will cleanse this place.”

“Uh-huh. Just.. tell me what you want me to do.”

“Clean thy ground. Make it good.” She nodded confidently, while he just stared at her, dumbfounded.

“Rust included?”

“Clean. This. Mess.” She hissed, squinting at him.

“I… look, even if I possibly could dig out all the rust, metal, maybe bones and whatever else is stuck where I can’t see… do you really think it’ll be worth it waiting for me, who has the same bone integrity as a rat with osteoporosis, to even begin power scrubbing this place? Let alone the ground?! It’s impossible. It’s too hard for me to do, you know it, I know it. So how about this. We can’t clean the ground.. but. We can repurpose what is making it suck. And you can help me move large piles of metal fast. You’re strong, right? That hammer looks heavy. Sounds pretty good?” He smiled, leaning back into his throne.

“You won’t sit there alone. I shall collect you this trash… and I will oversee your renewal of this vileness. Oh, to think you woeful fiends would simply discard this without thought for nature!”

“Yeah, we kinda suck at times… makes for fun toys though.” He smiled, going inside to look for the loincloths he placed on Trist when it rained.

Wait, it had been raining pretty hard last night.

Rushing outside, struggling to hold the green, blue and black loins, he sighed as he stared at TRISTY. His magnum opus… drenched. Fuck!

“Poppy?” He whimpered, laying down the loins as clear signs of where the Angel could lay down the scraps she picked up. The Angel was already carrying the Throne with ease, and all the scrapped cars and parts that helped make it a lot bigger than it actually was.

“Yes, Sinner?”

“I.. do you mind… do you mind giving me some help? A-again?”

“Ye ask a lot from an Angel.” She gracefully placed the Throne down on the loins, stepping down to him. “What is it?”

“I kind of need you to.. uh… lift me up. I know, it’s, kind of dumb.. but… m-my robot, she’s..”

“It.”

“She.”

“It.”

“Look, just, help me clean her? I forgot to cover her up…”

“Materials do not have names like people! Stop talking to it like it’s a person

"Well, she has a name of someone alright.”

Poppy seemed confused and annoyed at his quip. “You have stained the holy name of someone by placing it to a vile piece of discarded metal?”

“… maybe.”

“Council guide this one…” She sighed, closing her eyes and clasping her hands in prayer. “Tell me their name so I may weep for their being.”

“You… sure you wa–”

“Tell me.”

“… T-t… Tristana. Tri- I actually call her Tristy, though. I-It’s cute. I just.. I just find it cute.”

“Ah.” The sound that came from her mouth was soft, almost like a gasp, but the hate from a single follow up word dripped almost to the point of being visible. How..?“Her.”

One of the circles in his hand started to burn, and he shook it like a madman. “Hey. Hey! HEYHEY! NO! WHY?!” He held his hand, almost crying due to the sheer pain of feeling like his hand was being cooked.

“That is Envy. You still hold feelings for her.” Poppy unclasped her hands, and slowly, way too slowly for Rumble’s taste, the sensation stopped. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to do any real damage… just be really, really painful. “Maybe once both of you are cleansed, and that Fiend is away… maybe you two may be together. Maybe.”

“I d… f… I don’t… fu… ugh.” Rumble was still reeling and decided that instead of trying to reason, he’d simply get to work on TRISTY. His attempts at climbing with just one hand were… to be nice, pathetic. He fell on the ground over and over again, and at some point, seemed to have hit something hard, seeing as he just laid on the ground, face buried in his hands.

The Angel, harsh as she was to repenter, still was compelled by pity. Laying horizontally on the air, completely unphased by it, she spoke. “You are harmed.”

“No shit.”

A very soft flick on his forehead. “No swears. You are harmed. You shall be laid and healed, while your hand and… st..omach? Heals. I will take care of your Iron monster. For now… sleep.”

Despite thinking that he was already used to her antics, having her say his 'stomach’ was hurt when he probably just broke a rib was… endearing? Maybe? Man, whatever, it was just a delight to finally be this smarter than someone. He felt like a frickin’ God!

“Stop with those vile thoughts or you will burn again.” She spoke, picking him up on her arms and slowly guiding him into his little corner inside the warehouse. Another burning sensation, this time a lot weaker.

“You started taking pity on me? Cuuute.”

“I can make you puke out the very sin out of your soul so you may stare at it before it pitifully crawls down your maw. So stop speaking. And heal.”

She left before saying any other words, feeling her cheeks start glowing with Arclight. Pity. This was Kindness. No more, no less! Worm.

Rumble quietly fell asleep, and Poppy spent the better part of the afternoon and night cleansing TRISTY and piling up scrap for the Mechanic. Keeping whatever looked functional, or small enough that Rumble could have built it, inside the Warehouse alongside the items that were already in.

By the time Rumble awakened, she was mostly done, and he was amazed to see the organized wall of his projects. He tried standing up, trying to find support in his forearms, and failing.

“Pooooooppy.”

A loud thump was heard outside, alongside with scrap being destroyed. Probably falling in on itself. Poppy flew to him with the weight of a fly and the velocity of a bullet, being just above him in moments. “Have you healed?”

“Uh… no.”

“Then sleep. Heal.”

“Yeah, I’m not sleeping this one off dear. Uh.. can you… you know what a bandage is, right?”

“No.”

“Ok, can you just, go into the city and ask about this rope-like thing that makes people stop bleeding. It’ll help me stop… hurt. I’ll just… uh… can you find me a book? I should have something around. Maybe? Just.. something to do.”

A quick flight through the junkyard had uncovered quite a few books, although most were of… questionable contents, and too sticky to open up for whatever reason. Did he feel regret and seal them? Most likely!

“Here, here aaand here.” Poppy placed down a comic book, Annals of Ancient Bandle, and a mechanic’s magazine. Well… it wasn’t exactly a great collection, and truth be told he only had gotten the Annals to laugh at some other word they resembled. It made one of the circles inside his hand sizzle, and the laughing did make his chest hurt even more.

“Ok, just… ah, thanks. Just go and get the bandages. Thanks, Poppy? Porcelain? I forget your name…”

“Poppy. Stay still, Sinner mine. Do not harm yourself further.” With a soft bow, she leaped into the air, disappearing through one of the smaller exits soon after.

“Poppy.” He grabbed the Annals, slowly leaning back against the cold iron behind him. It kind of hurt. But it was comfier than reading

“Poppy…”

While he started to read, the Angel made her way to the Forest once again. It was almost downright humiliating. She was used to being on the Battlefield. She above all others was there on the time of need for a quick conversion, she even saved Soldiers out of certain death so they would become preachers. So many wounded and dying. She repented them, sure… but healing anything other than the soul was never meant to be her job! And making a fuss on the city market for not knowing something that sounded so common would not do.

Once again she stopped in front of the Manor, walking in more confidently this time. “DO NOT BE AFRAID, YE WHO DEAL WITH SCUM! I have come to bargain… again.”

Pix popped up from a dollhouse, pointing at a clear sign on the door that led upstairs.

“TRIST! If you came to visit I’m busy with Vei right now! We’ll be back in a few hours! Love, Lulu & Veigar!”

“Oh.” Poppy crossed her arms, staring at the imp looking creature. “This is… not a huge favor. I simply want… bandages? Bondages? I’m not sure. Something that restricts..”

Slowly flying over to the door, a confused look on his face, he stuck himself into the keyhole of the door leading upstairs and managed to slide inside. A little bit of time passed wich Poppy spent on her feet, not wanting to sit down on the chairs of these Sinners. She wasn’t invited, either. It was just polite. And safe.

Pix appeared soon enough, a roll of bandages under one arm, and a roll of ropes, handcuffs and other kinky gear on the other. How did that fit alongside him on the keyhole? Poppy didn’t know and didn’t care. “I guess I’ll take… both. These might come to use when he is misbehaving.”

Even Pix couldn’t help but laugh, well, squeak like a toy. Placing them down, he extended his arms, where Poppy placed down a golden medallion, materialized in her hands mere moments ago. “May it serve you as well as these serve me.”

"N-not.. as... b-butt... butt with A isn't even a swear word!"

"No, but it means you are thinking of using one. You need to cleanse your mouth and mind like you will cleanse this place."

"Uh-huh. Just.. tell me what you want me to do."

"Clean thy ground. Make it good." She nodded confidently, while he just stared at her, dumbfounded.

"Rust included?"

"Clean. This. Mess." She hissed, squinting at him.

"I... look, even if I possibly could dig out all the rust, metal, maybe bones and whatever else is stuck where I can't see... do you really think it'll be worth it waiting for me, who has the same bone integrity as a rat with osteoporosis, to even begin power scrubbing this place? Let alone the ground?! It's impossible. It's too hard for me to do, you know it, I know it. So how about this. We can't clean the ground.. but. We can repurpose what is making it suck. And you can help me move large piles of metal fast. You're strong, right? That hammer looks heavy. Sounds pretty good?" He smiled, leaning back into his throne.

"You won't sit there alone. I shall collect you this trash... and I will oversee your renewal of this vileness. Oh, to think you woeful fiends would simply discard this without thought for nature!"

"Yeah, we kinda suck at times... makes for fun toys though." He smiled, going inside to look for the loincloths he placed on Trist when it rained.

Wait, it had been raining pretty hard last night.

Rushing outside, struggling to hold the green, blue and black loins, he sighed as he stared at TRISTY. His magnum opus... drenched. Fuck!

"Poppy?" He whimpered, laying down the loins as clear signs of where the Angel could lay down the scraps she picked up. The Angel was already carrying the Throne with ease, and all the scrapped cars and parts that helped make it a lot bigger than it actually was.

"Yes, Sinner?"

"I.. do you mind... do you mind giving me some help? A-again?"

"Ye ask a lot from an Angel." She gracefully placed the Throne down on the loins, stepping down to him. "What is it?"

"I kind of need you to.. uh... lift me up. I know, it's, kind of dumb.. but... m-my robot, she's.."

"It."

"She."

"It."

"Look, just, help me clean her? I forgot to cover her up..."

"Materials do not have names like people! Stop talking to it like it's a person

"Well, she has a name of someone alright."

Poppy seemed confused and annoyed at his quip. "You have stained the holy name of someone by placing it to a vile piece of discarded metal?"

"... maybe."

"Council guide this one..." She sighed, closing her eyes and clasping her hands in prayer. "Tell me their name so I may weep for their being."

"You... sure you wa--"

"Tell me."

"... T-t... Tristana. Tri- I actually call her Tristy, though. I-It's cute. I just.. I just find it cute."

"Ah." The sound that came from her mouth was soft, almost like a gasp, but the bending of metal was audible. "Her."

One of the circles in his hand started to burn, and he shook it like a madman. "Hey. Hey! HEYHEY! NO! WHY?!" He held his hand, almost crying due to the sheer pain of feeling like his hand was being cooked.

"That is Envy. You still hold feelings for her." Poppy unclasped her hands, and slowly, way too slowly for Rumble's taste, the sensation stopped. Thankfully, it didn't seem to do any real damage... just be really, really painful. "Maybe once both of you are cleansed, and that Fiend is away... maybe you two may be together. Maybe."

"I d... f... I don't... fu... ugh." Rumble was still reeling and decided that instead of trying to reason, he'd simply get to work on TRISTY. His attempts at climbing with just one hand were... to be nice, pathetic. He fell on the ground over and over again, and at some point, seemed to have hit something hard, seeing as he just laid on the ground, face buried in his hands.

The Angel, harsh as she was to repenter, still was compelled by pity. Laying horizontally on the air, completely unphased by it, she spoke. "You are harmed."

"No shit."

A very soft flick on his forehead. "No swears. You are harmed. You shall be laid and healed, while your hand and... st..omach? Heals. I will take care of your Iron monster. For now... sleep."

Despite thinking that he was already used to her antics, having her say his 'stomach' was hurt when he probably just broke a rib was... endearing? Maybe? Man, whatever, it was just a delight to finally be this smarter than someone. He felt like a frickin' God!

"Stop with those vile thoughts or you will burn again." She spoke, picking him up on her arms and slowly guiding him into his little corner inside the warehouse. Another burning sensation, this time a lot weaker.

"You started taking pity on me? Cuuute."

"I can make you puke out the very sin out of your soul so you may stare at it before it pitifully crawls down your maw. So stop speaking. And heal."

She left before saying any other words, feeling her cheeks start glowing with Arclight. Pity. This was Kindness. No more, no less! Worm.

Rumble quietly fell asleep, and Poppy spent the better part of the afternoon and night cleansing TRISTY and piling up scrap for the Mechanic. Keeping whatever looked functional, or small enough that Rumble could have built it, inside the Warehouse alongside the items that were already in.

By the time Rumble awakened she was mostly done, and he was amazed to see the organized wall of his projects all piled up in order of height. He tried standing up, trying to find support in his forearms for it, and failing.

"Pooooooppy."

A loud thump was heard outside, alongside with scrap being destroyed. Probably falling in on itself. Poppy flew to him with the weight of a feather and the velocity of a bullet, being just above him in moments. "Have you healed?"

"Uh... no."

"Then sleep. Heal."

"Yeah, I'm not sleeping this one off dear. Uh.. can you... you know what a bandage is, right?"

"No."

"Ok, can you just, go into the city and ask about this rope-like thing that makes people stop bleeding. It'll help me stop... hurt. I'll just... uh... can you find me a book? I should have something around. Maybe? Just.. something to do."

A quick flight through the junkyard had uncovered quite a few books, although most were of... questionable contents, and too sticky to open up for whatever reason. Did he feel regret and seal them? Most likely!

"Here, here aaand here." Poppy placed down a comic book, the Annals of Ancient Bandle, and a mechanic's magazine. Well... it wasn't exactly a great collection, and truth be told he only had gotten the Annals to laugh at some other word they resembled. It made one of the circles inside his hand sizzle, and the laughing did make his chest hurt even more.

"Ok, just... ah, thanks. Just go and get the bandages. Thanks, Poppy? Porcelain? I forget your name..."

"Poppy. Stay still, Sinner mine. Do not harm yourself further." With a soft bow, she leaped into the air, disappearing through one of the smaller exits soon after.

"Poppy." He grabbed the Annals, slowly leaning back against the cold iron behind him. It kind of hurt. But it was comfier than reading

"Poppy..."

While he started to read, the Angel made her way to the Forest once again. It was almost downright humiliating. She was used to being on the Battlefield. She above all others was there on the time of need for a quick conversion, she even saved Soldiers out of certain death so they would become preachers. So many wounded and dying. She repented them, sure... but healing anything other than the soul was never meant to be her job! And making a fuss on the city market for not knowing something that sounded so common would not do.

Once again she stopped in front of the Manor, walking in more confidently this time. "DO NOT BE AFRAID, YE WHO DEAL WITH SCUM! I have come to bargain... again."

Pix popped up from a dollhouse, pointing at a clear sign on the door that led upstairs.

"TRIST! If you came to visit I'm busy with Vei right now! We'll be back in a few hours! Love, Lulu & Veigar!"

"Oh." Poppy crossed her arms, staring at the imp looking creature. "This is... not a huge favor. I simply want... bandages? Bondages? I'm not sure. Something that restricts.."

Slowly flying over to the door, a confused look on his face, he stuck himself into the keyhole of the door leading upstairs and managed to slide inside. A little bit of time passed wich Poppy spent on her feet, not wanting to sit down on the chairs of these Sinners. She wasn't invited, either. It was just polite. And safe.

Pix appeared soon enough, a roll of bandages under one arm, and a roll of ropes, handcuffs and other kinky gear on the other. How did that fit alongside him on the keyhole? Poppy didn't know and didn't care. "I guess I'll take... both. These might come to use when he is misbehaving."

Even Pix couldn't help but laugh, well, squeak like a toy. Placing them down, he extended his arms, where Poppy placed down a golden medallion, materialized in her hands mere moments ago. "May it serve you as well as these serve me."

Another row of squeaks from Pix as Poppy left, simply ignoring the mocking. The black bandages were a bit wet, and smelled rather funky... but the white ropes were clean. They smelled of alcohol. Huh.

A quick flight back, and soon enough Rumble was shirtless in front of her. He had gotten on reading quite a bit about Bandle, although that only left him with more questions than answers. Poppy didn't care about that, though. What she did care, was how she could finally see just how thin he was.

"Even your fur can not hide this. When did you last eat?"

"... define eating?"

"Chewing things with your mouth and swallowing it."

"Well in that case... uh... two days? I'm still w--"

"Silence." Poppy gently forced him to sit upright, wrapping the bandages around his chest. "I can't allow you to suffer while under my watchful vigil. Unless you wish to partake in fasting?"

"Look, the only reason I don't eat is that it costs money, and I already got little of it as it is."

"Yet you have enough bottles of drink to fill bags."

"... well, priorities ar--"

"Hush, Sinner! T'is clear thee has fallen to the devilish tradition of vices and delusions! Then the damage is not only of body, but of mind as well. Very well. I so woefully regret feeding it now, but from this point, the gold that touches your hand will feed you, the alcohol that touches your lips will be tasteless and harmless, the needs of the flesh will be dimmed. And so it is spoken." She nodded as if all that was a spell, and smiled. "Very well. Are you hungry?"

"I could go for a snack but I also could go for not moving." One of the circles on his hand started to fume, but before the pain could hit, the Angel pointed at the hand. "Hush!"

The fuming stopped.

"...you can just... make it stop?"

"Of course. I placed it."

"So you just... let me break my ribs instead of... like... helping me?!"

"Yes. It taught you an important lesson. Do not disobey Heaven's will."

Burying his hands on his face, he sighed. "Alright. Sure, whatever. You want me to eat, right? Can't you carry me or something?"

"Gladly. I will not let you die while your soul still lives stained and crooked." Picking the Mechanic up like a dead body, carefully letting him rest on her arms as they flew, not nearly as fast as before. After all, even a nudge could make Rumble whimper in pain.

Once the city was finally in view, the wings dematerialized, and they both were finally able to land. Placing Rumble down very carefully and giving him an arm to hold for support as they walked towards the bar. In hushed whispers, she kept asking him about if it hurt, how much, and how to help him... most questions were answered with a pained shrug, followed by a groan of pain as he realized what awful idea that was.

As they got inside the bar, surprisingly warm for the season, Poppy made sure to sit him down as soon as possible. While Rumble fanned himself, Poppy sat and waited for the waitress to pass, by, tapping her fingers on the table expectantly.

She saw him.

She knew he saw her.

He had spotted her a long time ago, as soon as she moved towards Bandle, actually. Tristana, still quite deaf to these higher beings despite spending so much time with Teemo, tugged on his fur. "C'mon. Let's go home It's b.. been? Hon?"

To her, and Poppy's surprise, Teemo walked up to the Angel's table. Confused, Tristana followed along, sitting down near Poppy to make sure Teemo could not touch her.

The whole bar had stopped talking again as if the hostility between the two Holy beings was choking them up. Slowly, table by table, they left, unable to explain why they felt so frightened. Teemo smiled, careful not to show his teeth, the other three in the table simply waited for him to speak whatever he had in mind. Rumble being ever so careful to not touch him, not wanting to get cooked.

Coins clinked for the last time, and finally everyone except the four and the bartender had left. Even the waiters took the opportunity to hide in the back. The anticipation killing everyone as if a bomb was about to explode, and none of them knew exactly when. Just that soon it'd happen.

His tongue clicked.

"So."

"So." Poppy followed, crossing her arms and leaning back.

"You know." He rested his arms on the table, back arched as if he was going to pounce at her, any second now...

"I do not, Demon."

"You seem to have taken a liking to that boy." He nodded over to Rumble, who was now having to swipe away the fur falling on his eyes, dripping with sweat. "Gave up on her?" He smiled fully now, needle-like teeth showing.

"I will take her from you and leave you to dust, Worm. He is simply yet another soul I may save."

"Y'know that's how I started." He glanced at Trist, his eyes barely open, just enough to let their yellow light and cat-like slits show. "Sorry, I forgot you don't use that term on Heaven. I mean, that's how I f--"

"I know what it means, Fallen one." She hissed, the pure and radiant light clashing with the fiery gaze, lights dancing with each other while Rumble and Trist tried not to pay too much attention to what was going on.

"He's still wearing your boots."

Her cheeks swelled with arclight, eyes dimming down as her heavenly blush took hold. Soon enough, Rumble was left with his feet free. "Hey, I kind of du--"

"Shut up, Sinner." Poppy was even more agressive this time, not even bothering to turn to face him. "I have come to feed this wretch what his vices had been taking from him. What are you to do here? Sin? Laugh on my face? Try and pull him even deeper down the chain of vices that control him?"

"Second option, mixed in with a bit of the first... I mean, have you had the beef these guys serve here? Oh, it's absolutely delightful. You just can't have one piece. Or three. As for the sinning.."

Sweating out of sheer stress, Tristana finally spoke up. "Dear I don't think--"

"We sin alright."

"Then go. Enjoy your time. You lost her once. You'll lose her again."

"Or you will fall. Dear? You heard the angel." He purred, blowing a kiss to Poppy that dripped with sarcasm as he got up and left, Tristana following soon after.

They could be heard screaming in the distance at each other, along with a spine-chilling laughter from the Devil.

"D-do... shou.. should I ask..?"

"Silence."