Yeah, this page is just going to contain a bunch of stuff that I made and will make in the future. I figure eating up a unique page for each idea would be a waste of the Wiki, so everything will fall under this one blog. Do note that I am severely random when it comes to these, so I may just decide to add more to one or entirely re-do one. Depends on my mood. Anyhoo, hopefully these appear decent. If there are weird quirks, like formatting, words that are missing apostrophes consistently or anything weird, it's because these were primarily written on my phone and it's a pain to get an apostrophe, so I just excluded them. If you catch any errors, please tell me. I hate hate hate hate hate hate hat eh;athewlaktjl;kjasfdlkajflkjfkslfjalfjdf;dsfladjfldsfj hate typos. Thanks.
(1) Dark Kayle Log-In
Since I love Kayle (very first champion I played and stuck with even to this day), I really want to have a sort of Fallen Kayle legendary skin made in League. So, I just have this little thing in my head that plays the Log-In theme. Here is the general format. This is just for now, I really want to expand the lyrics since (in my mind) the song might be too short.
Dark Kayle login song:
(Intro theme: hopeful and bold)
(Visual: Kayle with her back to the audience, holding her helmet to her hip, hair flowing in the gentle wind as she looks down upon a crowd of people, her armor a beautiful golden color and the red on her armor bright and commanding, her wings neatly behind her, a figure of absolute confidence)
"We will vanquish the threat of darkness and cleanse the souls of those who can be saved!"
(triumphant cheers in the background)
"The blasphemous Morgana will be brought to stand trial. She and her followers will be judged for their crimes! Justice surpasses ties by blood and my sister is no exception!"
(Kayle's voice remains loud and clear, but begins to fade. Faint sounds of rain start to replace her voice)
(The screen begins to slowly change to black)
"I stand here and make my promise to you. I will embark on our mission; all of the lovers of darkness will know my name. I am Kayle, the Judicator, and I fear no evil! The intervention begins soon and with holy fervor..."
(sound of rain, growing heavier)
(the screen is black)
(thunder in the distance)
(the flash of lightning brings forth a new visual, Kayle kneeling over her helmet on a cliff, overlooking a chasm of clouds and darkness, rain pouring onto her)
(every flash of lightning in the dark sky reveals how Kayle's armor is now entirely black and where there was red there is now pale white. Her hair is black as well. Between each flash of lightning, we can only see the shadowy form of Kayle kneeling, but we can still barely see hints of her original colors, symbolizing how her old self lies in the shadows and her new self is exposed now by the lightning)
(music begins, dark and mournful)
Where there was once light now thrives the dark
Blood on holy grounds, our days now stark
Our savior taken, gone now is our spark
The evil spirits have carved their mark
(music remains dreadful but now calmer)
(weeping of a woman softly in the distance)
(ominous thunder silences her)
(evil laughter of a woman, different from the weeping one)
(music resumes its dread)
Dreadful Morgana, queen of lies and sorrow
Another black day awaits the world tomorrow
Our savior's purity dies, we have only time to borrow
But we stand by for the end of days, this is the pain we know
(Morgana's laughter echoes, the thunder more commanding)
(the flashes of lightning increase in intensity, detailing more the corrupted armor of Kayle)
(the music now becomes more ominous, more menacing than before, as if to celebrate the birth of a new demon)
Her dark reckoning growing more deadly
Black fires enshrouding her corrupted fury
Unholy blessings showering upon thee
Her fallen intervention now begins violently
(climax of theme and end)
(lightning flashes the brightest during climax and total darkness is present again)
(Kayle's voice, distant and heartbroken)
"I am so sorry..."
(2) Nautilus Judgment
The day I laid eyes on Naut, I fell in mad love with him. One of the most beautiful champions I ever saw, I instantly got him. Good thing he plays like a beast, too. :p
But, unfortunately, no judgment for him. So, I decided to do one for myself, and here it is.
The heavy footsteps echoed in the halls. Evidence of his trek through the hall was in the form of wet boot-prints and puddles of black ooze here and there. The onlookers maintained an uneasy silence, not wanting to interfere with this beast. He knew that they judged him in their minds, but he disregarded them. My goals do not concern you, he whispered in a grave voice to himself. He lumbered through the pristine and clean halls, leaving his traces on the polished marble floor. At last the titanic doors confronted him. He stared intently at the inscription on the panel adjacent to the doors, "The truest opponent lies within". He did not move for what seemed ages to him. Within... There is no opponent within, he thought. There is nothing but a dark abyss within my heart. The doors slowly opened, beckoning him to enter the maw. He shouldered his anchor again and slowly entered. Nautilus reached the center of the chamber. Only two blood-red lights could be seen. They scanned his surroundings. He felt no fear but he did not trust what was around him. He trusted nothing. Betrayal does that to people...
"Welcome, Nautilus." A woman was present and she stepped forth into a light that suddenly appeared.
Nautilus turned to the figure in the robe. Only half his height, she spoke to him without any signs of fear.
"I shall be administering your judgment for entry into the League", she declared.
"Judgment? You..." Nautilus whispered in his watery hollow voice. He knew of the judgments in the League, but he could not let go of the sting of being "judged". It was like a pain that one prepared for, but which one would not be able to handle when it occurred. "You!" He lifted his anchor and drove the hook into the floor that shattered with a foul crack. "You dare judge me?!" The titan began his rasp breathing. Labored. Painful. His anger had gotten hold of him. He could not help it. The robed woman merely looked at where the anchor had merged with the floor.
"Your anger is hurting you. You might believe it is strength, but you are sorely mistaken." she said, with an almost clinical tone.
"You know nothing of my pain. Of my torture." he harshly growled. "You dare attempt to judge me, a victim of betrayal. I have been condemned." He made an attempt to take hold of his beloved anchor when suddenly his breathing became clear. He felt lighter and... warm. He blinked and saw his wife. How beautiful she was. He lost all sense of dread. No anger. No pain. No hatred. He ran his fingers through her hair. She smiled.
"Oh, my sweet Maria." he whispered gently.
Maria buried her face in his chest.
"Nathaniel. Please, don't go today." she begged.
"Maria, today is an exceptional day for the Institute. They received word of an unknown entity in the ocean and this could be a great discovery. This is important to me." He held her against him. His heartbeats always soothed her.
"I worry about you. I am afraid of what might happen to you out there. They always send you and the crew into the unknown. Why can't they go look themselves!" she cried as tears flowed and moistened Nathaniel's shirt.
"Maria" he said. He took her head in his hands and looked into her watery eyes. Her beautiful turquoise eyes never failed to make him fall in love with her constantly. "I will return. I promise." He smiled with his own tears revealing themselves. "Have I ever broken a promise to you?"
"Never..." she whispered. She passionately kissed her husband. He never lied to her. He was always true to her. He will come back, she assured herself.
They broke their passionate embrace and Nathaniel took one last look at the love of his life before departing their home.
Nathaniel suddenly found himself smelling the sea and tasting the salty air. The rocking of the ship soothed him in a way a mother rocking a crib for her child lulls the child to sleep. The sea, he felt, was his true home. He would construct a ship with a little home in it for him and his wife. Their child would be born out at sea. But, that would be in due time. The sound of the ship's horn awakened him from his day dream.
"Captain!" one of the crew cried in a panicked tone. "Captain! What the hell is this?"
Nathaniel bolted to the side of the ship. He knew his crew. What worried them was what
worried him. And it was black. All black. A coat of darkness was gripping onto the skin of the sea. Nathaniel studied the darkness. This was nothing he had ever seen before, in all of his years. The Institute must be notified of this.
"We are to report this to the Institute at once!" he declared to his nervous crew. He walked to his quarters and jotted down the coordinates and description of the material. Whatever this was, it had no right to cling onto the sea. This is his beautiful sea. He must protect it.
"Captain!" another panicked cry.
Nathaniel quickly ran to the sailor. He stopped in terror at what the sailor was pointing to. The black ooze was slowly grabbing hold of the ship. Nathaniel ordered the ship to move. The ship jerked forward and ripped the tendrils off the hull with snaps like tree branches breaking off in an empty forest. Nathaniel ordered the ship to halt.
"We cannot leave this alone here. Suit up, we are going to explore it." Nathaniel ordered.
The crew members mumbled their protests. Such cowards, Nathaniel thought to himself.
Willing to leave such a threat out at sea for others to encounter. He, alone, will discover the source of this. Nathaniel donned the hulking diver suit with no fear in his heart. He made his way to the edge of the ship and waited for the diving cable to be hooked to him. No use in exploring the unknown if you can't find your way back. Suddenly, the unthinkable occurred. Inky tendrils snapped at his suit and took a violent grip. Nathaniel's heart jumped. All he could see was the sky as he was pulled back.
Nathaniel grabbed onto the railing of the ship with a deathly grip. Fear leaked into his soul and he cried for help. The ooze did not relent. His struggle only fueled its strength.
"Help me!" he cried out
The ship started to slowly tilt. The diver suit allowed enhanced strength in the wearer. In their minds... If he held on too long... The ship...
"Please!" he cried again
The ship threatened to capsize. The crew made a hasty decision. It was a decision no one should be forced to make. It was a decision Nathaniel never wanted. They forced his grip free. The suit plunged into the muck. Terrified eyes inside the visor were swallowed by the darkness. An open hand begging for help swallowed. Nothing but darkness. His hand still searching, he grabbed onto the anchor. It, too, offered no help. It sank with him. Both were condemned to the murky liquid. He felt himself drift. His mind raced. Then her face entered his troubled thoughts. He would never see her again.
"Mariaaa!" Nathaniel screamed in his prison. A cry only he would hear.
"Mariaaa!" Nautilus cried in his deep voice. He fell to his knees, staring at the marble floor and rubble that his anchor gave birth to.
The robed woman could only look at this hulking figure, now in a weakened position. His
breathing became strained and more hoarse.
"They... took everything from me..." he tearfully whispered. "She has been taken from me. I made a promise to her... And I never kept it". Nautilus grabbed his helmet and moaned in agony. "Dear god, why?! Why me?!" he cried to no one.
"You have been betrayed, Nautilus. But this betrayal was made out of fear. They did not know what to do. Their instinct for survival made them act that way. Can you forgive them?" the woman asked.
Nautilus was silent. He thought back to his wife. They were going to have their first child
together after the journey. He would name the girl Pearl or the boy Morgan. They would live so happily as a family. Nautilus shed tears. He whimpered and slammed his armored fist into the floor with a loud clang. He knew his answer. He could not forgive them. They stole his life. They denied him a family. He doesn't exist.
"Never..." he whispered.
"Then that is your answer. However, to forgive is to allow your heart to heal, Nautilus. Please know that."
Nautilus remained silent. He can't let go. He knows that and the woman knows that. It is
impossible to not feel the desire for revenge, as far as Nautilus was concerned.
"I cannot. My heart is an abyss. I do not feel happiness." he warned. "Trust is non-existent to me. I fight to have my revenge. I want my life back, more than anything else. But, that will not happen. I offer my service to the League thereafter. I have no other purpose beyond vengeance." With that statement, he grabbed the handle of the anchor and lifted it up like it could be the lightest object in existence. The anchor was now perched on his shoulder again, ready to serve Nautilus.
"How does it feel, exposing your mind?" the woman asked. She did sound slightly disappointed. No doubt she did. She had hoped that he would allow his heart to recover and try to start a new life. But, it was out of her jurisdiction to make him change his mind.
"My entire life and story both belong to the sea. If you want the details, you may take your own dive. What you have seen is my previous life. This new life... Is yours to behold now."
The woman nodded.
"With your dedicated service to the League, we will reward you. We can help you begin a new life, Nautilus. The prison you wear, the anger you suffer from, and the happiness you want. We can assist you in addressing those. Please keep that in mind". And she vanished.
Nautilus stood his ground, alone. Again. Alone. He wondered what she meant. He did not trust her or the League but he had no choice. He could only hope to end this nightmare and move on. If what she promised was true, he could have a life. The League was famous for granting many things. He slowly entered the League, with a tiny glimmer of hope in his aching heart.
(3) Nautilus... thing
This was made a long time ago when Naut was still unreleased.
I cross into the fog. Cold air fills my lungs, the smell of the sea. Whales in the distance
mourning with their longing calls. I can only imagine their sorrow, their loss. To be a part of this
unforgiving world, to be a victim of nature’s fury. A tremble crawls along my body. Fear has no
place when anticipation is in force. But for what do I wait? The sea does not beckon for her own
amusement. The sea, she has her goal in sight. She wants me near. The crashing waves with
their dull splashes against the black sand, I am close. Oh, ocean, why have you brought me
here? The whales continue their calls, echoing throughout this blanket of icy fog. I shudder. The
dark mass slowly reveals herself. I am here. I stand before her. The waves crash against the
shore, threatening to consume me if I dare stray too close to her. The ocean then becomes still.
The whales whisper their sorrowful cries. The ocean, she has brought me for an event. I know it
in my heart, she wants me to witness something. Before long, a thunderous echo. My
heartbeat becomes dull. She gives birth. As I watch the dark ocean rumble and quake before
me, I see him break the surface of her skin. Lumbering as if confused by a world he never
expected, but moving with a haste that spoke of intention, he crosses the black sand of the
night, each footstep announced with a soft thud. I can only stare at this beast, a being that
aches to find resolution. The black crusted anchor he drags creates grooves in the sand that will
remain until the voracious ocean consumes them. He stands in place, a black figure against the
dark landscape. Labored breathing. This creature is alive yet dying. The helmet tilts upward. A
bellowing and mournful moan echoes in the dark. He grips the charcoal anchor and, with the
strength of a titan, impales the sand with the anchors unforgiving hooked edge. The labored
breathing doesn’t cease. Anger and hatred consume his breaths. And, like blood spilling onto
sand, the red glow illuminates the inky soil. He lives. Yet he does not. He turns to me, the blood
red eyes that shine with contempt. And I see the suffering and pain that tears at his
heart. "Forgotten..." he whispers in a deep voice that is not of his original birth, but of the birth
by sea. This child of the depths, this herald of the abyss, he now will walk the earth. "Dear
Nautilus", I whisper, "you will have vengeance..."
(4) Kayle Judgment... or, more like, unfinished.
I didn't even finish this... I dunno. I was passionate at first but now I feel like this is just bad. So, here is the unfinished product. I will probably scrap this one entirely.
Walking along the polished marble floor was an angelic being with enchanted armor. Kayle, the Judicator herself, arrived at the Institute for her judgment in a timely fashion. Her glorious shining armor caused awe in many of those who beheld her. But this visit was not for show. Kayle knew in her heart that this trip was more than necessary. She reached the titanic doors and gazed upon the inscription, "the truest opponent lies within". Yes, she thought, these are wise words. She was relieved to know that wise beings populated the Institute. The doors opened and Kayle walked into the chamber. Upon reaching the center, Kayle placed her enchanted sword down and stood with a strong posture, one that gave an air of commanding nature. She feared nothing. She was to be feared. Evil knew her well, and evil did everything in its power to escape her righteous fury.
"Greetings, Kayle." a robed woman appeared under a light.
"Greetings, Summoner." Kayle calmly said.
"I will be administering your judgment for entrance into the League. As you are aware of, this is purely protocol." the woman declared.
"I understand your methods, Summoner." Kayle returned.
"Excellent. Let us begin the process."
Kayle closed her eyes and awaited the probing of the Summoner. She waited. Nothing happened. Until it struck her violently. Kayle felt immense pain and constriction. She opened her eyes to see shadows binding her arms to her body. She looked up to the figure. There stood Morgana, her rebellious witch of a sister.
"Ha ha, my dear sister." Morgana teased. She walked to the kneeling Kayle and grabbed hold of her helmet. Kayle stared into her sister's lifeless black eyes. Oh, how Morgana despised Kayle. Nothing would give more pleasure than to tear Kayle's heart out and keep it as a trophy of her victory over the mindless tyrants whom Kayle fights for.
"Are you losing your touch, sister?" she mocked, grinning with her fangs bare. "I guess I have to put an end to this."
Morgana raised her arms to cast the finishing blow. Dark matter spawned above her head. Black lightning and charcoal clouds were present. The earth quaked. Kayle knew this would be the end, she had to act quickly. Morgana chanted and screamed "Farewell, sister!". She threw the mass onto Kayle. Black shadows erupted around her bodyf. Morgana cackled at her sister's demise. But the celebration was short-lived. Morgana's face turned to a horrified expression as the shadows dissipated, revealing a holy sphere of golden light surrounding Kayle. Kayle's eyes glowed and Morgana was thrown back with vengeful force. She landed on her back and slid across the dirt. Morgana's hatred was fueled further. She clenched her teeth and scrambled to her feet, breathing heavily.
"Did you honestly expect me to go down that easily, Morgana?" Kayle mocked. "Your pathetic dark arts are no match against my strength, the strength of the holy." Kayle spread her wings. The holy sword erupted into flames and a fiery halo formed above Kayle. Morgana was far from finished.
"You tyrant!" Morgana shrieked as she launched a black mass towards Kayle. Kayle promptly dodged the mass and dove forward on swift wings and plunged the fiery blade deep into Morgana's chest. Morgana cried in agony and shoved Kayle away. Her black blood flowed from her wound, the flesh cauterized. Morgana growled. Her dark wings spread out. Morgana cried a phrase and motioned to the soil beneath Kayle. The soil bubbled and burned Kayle. Kayle, with a gasp of pain, jumped far from the pool and landed clumsily, falling to one knee. Morgana breathed deeply and the wound on her chest healed. Morgana always praised her ability to cast vampiric spells. She knew they always came in handy. Kayle was not finished. She mustered a holy orb and launched it at Morgana. It struck violently and knocked her onto her back. Kayle took flight and dove again to plunge the burning blade into her sister's heart. Morgana raised her hands up and a glowing shield of pure darkness spawned around her body. Kayle's sword cracked the shield, but failed to penetrate. Kayle gripped the handle and mustered all of her strength to overcome this shield.
"You can't kill me, Kayle". Morgana boasted. She gave a sinister laugh, a laugh that announced satisfaction.
Kayle grunted and tried desperately to force the sword through but she quickly tired and Morgana sighed deeply. From her body, several chains were sent homing to Kayle. They shackled Kayle and forced her to the ground. Trapped in the demonic chains, Kayle struggled to remove them, but she had no strength left. Kayle's body collapsed and she was left on her knees. The black shield disappeared and Kayle's holy weapon dropped with a soft thud against the earth.
"You will never win against me, Kayle". Morgana whispered. She circled Kayle, like a predator taunting its prey before the inevitable consumption. Kayle felt weak and disappointed. She failed to overpower her sister. She let darkness and evil triumph. Tears dripped from the helmet. Morgana noticed this sign of emotion and angrily struck Kayle with enough force to knock her helmet onto the ground.
"You weak creature! You dare call yourself the superior breed! I have personally shown you the strength of the dark arts, I have proved to you the power of my practice." Morgana proudly announced. "And now..." she grabbed Kayle by the throat. Kayle could feel the icy grip of her sister's hand. Her hand was soft, like it had always been but, like her soul, it was now tainted with the cold nature of darkness."The end of the tyrants is near" she declared. Morgana slowly backed away from Kayle with an expression of pure hatred, a true carving in stone, never changing. Kayle could feel the chains tighten, her armor burning and her breaths shorter. Morgana merely stood her ground, watching her own flesh and blood suffer. A snap of bone within Kayle caused her to cry in pain. Another snap caused a violent cough of blood. Morgana smiled. The downside of immortality is that pain isnt excluded. Kayle was confronted with panicked thoughts. She would not be able to endure this for long. She begged for the strength of her people. She begged for the holy fervor that boiled her blood and gave her purpose. And the fervor answered with a vengeance. The black chains gave a sickening crack. White light poured through the chains and Kayle spread her wings in defiance. The black pieces fell to the ground.
Aaaaaand that's where I stopped. Eh.
(5) Custom Champ Judgment (Queen)
This was made for my custom champ named Queen. It's buried somewhere in my other blogs.
"Make way for Queen!" a man announced. His voice echoed in the halls, which served the cause well. He stood to the side and bowed while saluting. Royal gold and silver-lined black robes covering solid white armor passed by. The great woman herself, Queen Emma Conquise Du Royaute, walked elegantly but with an air of strength and unyielding stubborness. Her black hair with a white streak that started from her scalp to the end flowed over the robes, down to her lower back. Everyone looked with awe. A true queen was gracing them with her presence. No silly old crown was necessary. Queen, with soft steps that could not be done with armor by any common soldier, reached the giant doors that led into the chamber where the so-called "test" took place. Her eyes caught the plate next to the doors. "The truest opponent lies within" it read so clearly to her. Her neutral expression did not change. She understood the phrase, but did not give it any weight. She merely stored the phrase in a safe place in her mind. The doors gave a loud click and slowly opened. Queen fixed her near perfect posture and made her way into the chamber. Queen reached the center of the chamber and stood still. After a moment of pause, she placed her black shield and lance down. Strategy dictates that one must disarm oneself as a gesture of good faith. She stood once again with her powerful posture, awaiting contact.
"Greetings, Queen" a man voiced.
Queen turned to face a man in dark robes, unable to see his eyes. She consulted her logic and decided to respond carefully. For all she knew, this was a strategy that she must trump. All other strategies must be countered, no matter the cost.
"Greetings" Queen responded.
The man turned his attention to something behind her. She quickly turned and saw nothing. In a heartbeat, with one swift motion, she lifted her shield and lance and swung the shield against a forcing mace that threatened to shatter her spine. With a loud clang, Queen struck the ball of the mace back with her shield with the mace escaping the grip of the soldier. He soon felt the cold steel of the lance piercing his chest. Queen drove the lance and pulled it out swiftly. The soldier gasped for dear life and fell to his knees. With his last breath he collapsed to the ground. Try to trick me, won't you. I cannot be beaten. I am the master of war. Queen relished these thoughts but had to set them aside as more victims attempted to end her streak. One by one, their weapons met a stubborn flat surface and they experienced death after being stopped in their tracks. Queen smiled with each soldier slain, the blood against her shield and coating her lance only making her heart race with joy. No man could ever hope to give the kind of pleasure that war showered Queen with. This was her nature and she embraced it. The unfortunate who came across her were not so eager to embrace it, though. After slaughtering most of the soldiers she could find, Queen bellowed a war cry to rally her men. They all, in a stampede of loyal pawns, congregated to her, a beautiful woman in white and now red armor standing strong and willing to fight. If anything, they feared her more than the enemy. They all bowed and saluted her. This thrilled her and she felt shivers of joy creep along her spine. But, something was amiss. She could tell that more men than usual were lost. She was one to sacrifice men here and there but never in a sloppy fashion. That was how chess games were lost, through poor strategies. She was not going to lose this match, over her dead body. Queen made her way across the blood-soaked battlefield with worry. She cannot lose this war, she would not allow it. Cries of pain brought her attention to a canyon. She reached a group of her men defending itself against an enemy group. She quickly approached her men. They had set up a barricade which was being barraged by explosions that expelled green gas with each strike. The men coughed, vomited and cried as their skin seemed to spontaneously burn. Queen yelled to her men to gather. They looked up to the woman but their spirits were broken. They just wanted to leave. Queen planted her lance into the ground and pondered for what seemed like half a second. She began to clearly and thoroughly dictate orders for the men and reminded them that everything was to be done exactly as she said. The men, tired and weak, brought themselves up and tried their very best. The explosions finally poured enough acid to eat the barricade and Noxian troops flooded the canyon. Queen knew they just entered their graveyard. Queen screamed a battle cry and her men began to ambush the Noxian troopers as they entered... Until the one thing that Queen never considered in her strategies interfered: being human. The men were already weak and exhausted from battle and yet Queen, for the sake of battling and commanding her expendable pawns, gave orders that only healthy and strong-willed soldiers could fulfill. Her men started to fall to the Noxians and their sense of hope slowly grew weaker and weaker until they lost all sense of motivation. Flight was on their minds now, not fight. But, they didn't get away. They were struck down one by one as they attempted to flee. Queen was enjoying too much the cries of Noxian soldiers as she spilled their blood to notice that her perfect plan was failing. With horror she witnessed her men fall for no reason. They didn't even take down a single Noxian with them. Queen then noticed one Noxian lunge at her. Reflex saved her life. She pulled her lance up and the Noxian impaled himself against the point of the lance. With his last drop of strength, the Noxian drove his sword against Queen's face but could only manage to slice her from next to her nose down to her chin. The scar would be permanent. Had he mustered anymore strength, Queen would have been forced to stand before her people with a disfigured face, forced to wear a mask for the rest of her life. Queen cried in pain and fell onto her back. She knew this was the end. Her perfect strategy was ruined by her men. She awaited death. And death would have come swiftly had it not been for the other soldiers. A band of troops clashed with the Noxians and put them down. Queen could only lie on her back, staring at the sky. Her plan failed... She ran a finger across the wound on her face. Her finger was covered in blood as she looked. Queen closed her eyes and clenched her teeth. A failure... She could not handle a situation that required multiple ways of thinking and planning. Who was she? The master of failure? Queen opened her eyes and ran her finger across the scar. Even recently, she looked into the mirror and saw her face. A beautiful woman with delicate features that were foreign on the face of a master-general whose idea of pleasure was to conduct war. She looked into her eyes, brown and plain. Eyes that innocent-hearted men could easily fall in love with, that they called "sweet eyes that made you feel at ease". Months before her failure, she decided to wear special lenses on her eyes. When she wore these, her eyes transformed from plain brown eyes to eyes of opposite colors. One gold eye, one silver eye, the colors on her chess board. She saw herself as the embodiment of the queen piece on the board and decided to look as such. Many, especially her numerous lovers, expressed their objection, stating that they were not appropriate on someone like her. But, Queen never listened. Her desire to be the queen piece took priority over everything else. Queen now looked into the shimmering pool, seeing the ugly scar. Her gold and silver eyes scanned the scar and condemned it. A symbol of her failure.
"You believe to have failed, Emma" the man gently said.
Queen frowned with disgust, which bent the scar into a hideous shape. Nobody has called her Emma in years. It doesn't belong on Queen. She is Queen, to everyone, no matter how intimate that person had been. Even her lovers, they called her Queen and nothing less than that, no matter how many kisses they had shared or how many times they made love. She is Queen.
"You may call me Queen. That is good enough for YOU." she coldly returned.
The man looked down with an unknown emotion.
"Very well, Queen" he whispered. He then asked "Why do you want to join the League?"
Queen turned to the man.
"Why? Why?! Why else, then? This scar is nothing but a reminder of my failure, how my calculations, planning, strategies, foresight and predictions were wrong!" She was on the verge of tears. But this man, she reminded herself, did not deserve to see them. "I am here to perfect my skills. Whenever I create a strategy, it will be perfect and nothing will interfere because I will have several more strategies that accomodate all potential variables. I will become the master of war."
"Even the one variable that we cannot control?" the man asked.
"And which one would that be?" she challenged.
"The future. Chance. No one can predict the future, Queen. No one. You can try to have this perfect future set up through your plans and strategies, but there is nothing set in stone. We can only hope to influence it, however little we do." the man offered.
Queen stood silent. She would not tolerate such nonsense.
"You will see" she promised. With that, she turned, lifted her equipment, and marched to the doors to enter the League.
(6) Sejuani Judgment... or, until I freak out and edit the hell out of it.
I love Sejuani, actually. Not many people do, and I kinda see why. I actually didn't care for her until I played her. She is fun. And I like her character, so, unsurprisingly, I had the audacity to make a judgment for her. It's... I dunno, I am itching to change this, so that's what will happen eventually. Until then, here is the temporary judgment.
Sejuani defiantly walked in the polished marble hallway, a woman with a beautiful but visibly powerful figure. Her bright blue eyes locked onto the titanic doors ahead and never lost focus. Onlookers spoke quietly amongst themselves.
"What a barbaric woman!" "What is she doing in here?" "How dare she enter our halls!" they harshly whispered.
Sejuani couldn't hear them. In her mind, they meant nothing. They, as far as she was concerned, would never know what it meant to feel pain and pressure. To have the world on your shoulders. She reached the doors and noticed a plate on the wall which read "The truest opponent lies within".
"Hmph" Sejuani grunted. "Within? I have conquered everything there is within me. My true opponent lies in the open."
Her thoughts immediately turned to her...
A loud clang woke Sejuani from her thoughts and the doors slowly opened. She entered with her fists balled up, ready for any challenge that dared showed its ugly face. She slowly walked towards the center of the dark chamber. She watched her back constantly.
"Show yourself" she muttered.
"Greetings, Sejuani" a voice said.
Sejuani turned to face whoever spoke, ready to defend. She merely saw a robed woman standing under a light that wasn't there a second ago...
"What?" Sejuani coldly responded with.
"I am merely observing formalities, Sejuani" the woman returned.
Sejuani wasn't one for formalities. In a world that forces you to survive every day of your life, formalities are the least of your concerns. You either got to the point or died.
"Are you going to give me your famed test anytime soon?" Sejuani demanded.
"As you wish" the woman replied.
Sejuani turned her back against the woman, waiting. A moment passed. And another. And another. Until Sejuani's overwhelming impatience forced her to face the woman with the intent to yell at her... But the woman wasn't there. Instead...
"Hyahh!" a man's voice boomed.
Sejuani received a harsh blow to her jaw, the freezing cold numbing the hot pain instantly. She dropped into the tightly packed snow, the cold encasing her body. Sejuani opened her eyes and she clenched her teeth with such force that a normal human being's teeth would have shattered. But not Sejuani's. Her teeth, skin, bones and soul were harshly trained in the stark white frozen wastelands of Freljord.
"Get up!" the man fiercly cried.
Sejuani picked herself up, blood slowly crawling down her face and freezing on the way. She stared at her attacker, one of the men of her tribe. He wasn't one to treat women any differently than men when sparring. The man instantly rushed Sejuani, intending to shatter her jaw bone and potentially kill her, just as she ordered that he do. Sejuani dodged his attack, put her arm around his neck and forced him to the ground. She promptly pinned him into the snow. Sejuani held him for a while and let go. The man brought himself back up and looked at Sejuani in the eyes. He nodded his approval. Not that she ever needed his approval. As long as she could take down men twice her size, she was ready for anything, she felt.
"You're the strongest of our tribe, Sejuani" the man acknowledged.
"That means nothing to me" Sejuani bitterly remarked. "That is only the first step. I will soon roam to the other regions to shatter the bones of the other tribes' leaders and wear their skulls as prizes. One by one, you will see. I will win our losing war. I will travel to the camps, displaying the skulls on my belt and they will surrender to me."
Even to this, Sejuani did not smile. Nobody can recall if Sejuani ever did. Frowning was natural to her. Fury was what kept her alive, not oxygen, not food, not sleep. Only the drive to fight made her breathe. The man sat up, motioning to the distance. Sejuani looked and saw a figure walking towards them. The man looked down at the sitting figure. He stared at the scars on her body. Her helmet had a horn broken off after she fell down a canyon while fighting one of the native beasts of Freljord. The beast had her pinned to the ground and was going to drive its claw into her stomach. But, as expected, Sejuani fought. She kicked the beast off, grabbed the broken horn and drove it through the beast's heart. He only wished Sejuani took care of herself better. Her beauty was being ravaged by the scars she allowed her body to wear. The figure in the distance slowly revealed itself to be Ashe, dressed in her queen attire. The man knew what to expect and promptly left to return to the tribe. Sejuani, on the other hand, rose quicky. Her blood boiled. If her veins could be opened, her blood would spill and melt the ice and snow she stood on in a matter of seconds. She merely watched Ashe approach her.
"Sejuani..." Ashe calmly greeted her kin.
"What do you want?" Sejuani forced through her teeth.
Ashe looked upon her cousin with sad eyes. She placed her hand on a scar on Sejuani's body. Sejuani violently struck her hand away. Now is not the time to test me, Sejuani thought. Ashe's heart was hurt by such a display of violence. She genuinely worried about her blood relative. She did not want Sejuani risking her own life for a cause that could easily be solved by peace.
"Violence isn't everything, Sejuani" Ashe whispered tearfully.
This enraged Sejuani.
"I am campaigning for peace now. I am using the League of Legends to help in my cause. We can save Freljord. We can save our home, dear. There is no need to shed blood."
Sejuani's stare tore into Ashe's soul. Peace? There can be no peace.
"You will stop this foolish campaign, cousin" Sejuani growled. She hesitated to use the word "cousin". Sejuani never believed that she and Ashe were of the same blood. She disowned that weak thing years ago.
"Sejuani, you will stop" Ashe tried to return the cruel voice of Sejuani but couldn't. Her kind voice returned, which always failed to move Sejuani. "I am ordering you to cease this monstrous quest of yours. Your murders of the tribe leaders is completely unnecessary. Peace is the better route for the salvation of Freljord, Sejuani. You must belie--"
Ashe's face felt immense pain. Sejuani had lost all control. With a swift blow, she struck Ashe across the face. A small amount of blood sprayed on the white snow. She actually did it... Ashe was smaller than Sejuani and taking the full force of Sejuani caused Ashe to become unconcious. Sejuani stood over the body of her family, panting. How dare she question my motives. She is nothing but a traitor to Freljord. Weakness won't be tolerated. Sejuani placed her foot on Ashes back and pushed against her body. Wake up, you little coward...
"Get up!" she screamed at the motionless body. Her furious voice pierced the frigid air and soared across the surrounding mountains. Ashe closed her hands and moaned. She slowly and painfully lifted herself from the frozen ground, tears in her eyes and frozen on her face.
"Sejuani..." her voice cracked.
"Leave my presence, you crying child!" she bellowed. She would not tolerate this worthless thing any longer. "Get out of my sight!"
Ashe could only look at her sister with hurt eyes. Blood was frozen on both their faces. Ashe took one last look at her cousin and regretfully turned. The snow crunched softly with each step as Ashe made her leave. Sejuani stood her ground. The figure in the royal gown faded into the white winds. Sejuani merely turned and sprinted towards a direction. She reached a cave and entered. Laying near a small fire was Bristle, the only thing Sejuani fully trusted in this world. Bristle snorted in his sleep. Sejuani placed a cold hand on Bristle and walked to a section of the cave far from the fire. She placed her back against the icy wall as she lay down. Sejuani enjoyed the harsh treatment she subjected herself to. She would be ready for anything. Her eyes grew tired and she dozed off for a second... Until a voice woke her. Bright blue eyes focused on the hooded figure in front of her.
"Why do you want to join the League, Sejuani?" the voice asked.
Sejuani rushed to her feet. Her anger returned.
"You know very well why, Summoner. Dont play games with me..." she threatened.
"Very well. You wish to compete with Ashe, correct?"
"No. No!" she exclaimed. She took a step forward and stared into the dark eyes of the woman. "Destroy her! Prove that I am the true queen of Freljord. Prove that I am the one who will unite a fragmented Freljord. Prove that peace is a cowards way out. We fight for our land. We fight for our power. We fight for our own." Sejuani declared.
The summoner did not react. She merely motioned to the other side of the chamber. Sejuani looked, then turned her sight to nothing. The summoner was gone. Sejuani knew she was accepted. Even at that moment, Sejuani did not spare a smile. She merely focused and marched to the end of the chamber. Ashe will find only ruin when she meets Sejuani on the battlefield.