(( Of Poison and Power [A Private 1x1] ))

[magefeathers]

Teemo

The Swift Scout

"Captain Teemo, on duty!

The trip to Tristana's was a bit longer, Teemo seeming to be in a rather big hurry to get there. It seemed that word of what had happened that morning had already begun to spread, the people's reaction to him scurrying down the street was quite a bit different now than it normally was. As a hero, even him scuttling down the street would garner friendly waves, smiles and attention, the stray child vying for his attention to ask him a question here or there. Now? Well, there were still a few waves, which Teemo gladly returned, but far more concerned looks. Quite a few more whispers and turning away from the scout. It would all blow over, just as the whole tabloid fix on his and Tristana's relationship had in the past. Coming to the gunner's door, Teemo gave a firm knock, reminding himself about his tone of voice before greeting her. She opened the door, a weak smile coming across her lips.

"Hey, Teemo." she said, her tone decidedly less jovial than normal. "What's up? They let you out of the hospital already?"

"Yeah, just needed a little bit of sleep." Teemo replied, fiddling with his hands for a moment. "Listen. I know it's short notice, but I've been given a leave of absence."

"Uh-huh." Tristana said flatly.

"And...that trip to Zaun. If we leave today, we can catch the merchant ship to Piltover tomorrow and---" Teemo said, only cut off by a rather sad chuckle from the female yordle, the gunner shaking her head. "What's so funny?"

"You...you can't be serious." Tristana said, her voice cracking despite her best efforts to keep on a strong face. "I have to attend the funerals of half a dozen of my comrades, and you're asking me to go to Zaun with you /now/?"

"I...I just want to be ready, just in case---"

"I'm sorry. I just need some time to myself. I'm sure there's another scout or someone that'll go with you." Tristana said. Teemo could almost feel the disappointment and sense of betrayal in her voice, which meant worlds more than anything all the other yordles of Bandle City meant combined. Tristana was just as in tune to the furry scout's reaction, looking up. "Hey, c'mon. We all know you didn't mean it. I...it's just a bad time for travel for me. We're still best buds. Promise."

"...yeah. Okay." Teemo said, nodding. He wasn't sure if she was just humoring him, but could respect Tristana's need to put some space between herself and him....seeing as it was his fault the Megling Commandos had suffered and miserable and painful death. He hugged his arms, still trying to reason that it wasn't his fault, that nothing he could have done would have prevented things from going the way they did.

"Next week, maybe? I'll let you know." Tristana replied, putting a hand on Teemo's shoulder. The furry scout looked up, his gaze meeting with the reassuring smile of the gunner, in spite of all that had happened. "Just don't do anything crazy or stupid, got it?"

"....got it." Teemo replied with a small nod, patting Tristana's hand before wishing her a good evening. Now, in Teemo's mind 'something crazy or stupid' didn't extend to going for a two week trip to Zaun completely on his own, seeing as he had gone on solo missions for about that long. Sure, they did push him to the brink of what a yordle could tolerate in isolation, but it wouldn't hurt to push his boundaries a little, right? He couldn't simply remain idle, he couldn't just 'relax'. Every moment he sat and twiddled his thumbs was another moment the lives lost weighed on his mind, that Bandle City's worse enemy could be making plans and schemes. And that...well, that was worse than any punishment that could be dished out to him.

The rest of the afternoon was spent gathering up his things in his inn room, stuffing all his survival equipment and some trap supplies, extra dart shells and so on into a miniature suitcase and his book bag, the scout leaving the rest of his personal affects in a trunk at the counter of the Grey Mare Inn. His night was sleepless and restless, making sure everything was ready to go for the next day. Teemo's entrance onto the merchant ship was quick and unquestioned, the day and a half's ride to Piltover was calm and peaceful. The walk from Piltover to Zaun was much more unnerving, the scout having to don a hood and cloak to keep from being a bigger target from the criminals that plagued the slums around Zaun than he already was, being a yordle and all. However, it seemed things were relatively peaceful as rare of an occurrence as that was. As Teemo approached the workshop of the mad chemist of Zaun, he could already sense that the general peace wasn't being experienced within, tentatively pushing open the door.

"Perhaps if you wrote more concise directions---"

"I'd assume you knew basic titration principles!"

"And if by BASIC you meant 'the insane over grown rodent's completely brainless method'---"

"Brainless? Brainless! I----I'll show you brainless!"

With that, there was a crash and a sizzle, then a back and forth argument between the mad chemist's deep and almost elegant tone versus the nasal, snappish tone of the plague rat, Teemo whistling to get their attention. Both of them snapped their glares at the furry scout, Singed being the first to soften upon recognizing a familiar customer.

"Don't mind this cretin's temper tantrum. He's just up in arms because he doesn't seem to have the ability to thoroughly translate his methods into anything more than jumbled chicken scratch." Singed said, obviously having a much better grip on reality than his temporary work associate. Teemo could hear the over grown rat chattering and cursing under his breath, shuffling off to the other room, nary another word. "Now, what do I owe this unexpected pleasure? You were here rather recently, if I'm not mistaken. Usually that jug I make you lasts a few months' worth of your traps. Unless you've been busier than normal lately. Either way, I don't mind the business."

"Actually, I need something new. A silence poison." Teemo replied, hopping onto a nearby lab stool that the chemist patted, inviting Teemo to make himself comfortable.

"And the base? Unless you're allowing me full creative license here." Singed replied, starting to tidy up the glass from the beaker Twitch had hurled at Singed in his rage.

"I haven't found anything organic that does it." Teemo sighed. The scout was very good as concentrating his own blind and normal dart poisons, even the noxious trap venom being a concentrate of oil that he gathered from the jungles and turned over to the chemist to fully distill it. However, he was completely out of his league at the moment, relying on the knowledge of the mad chemist to resolve. It seemed that Singed was amused by the challenge, nodding a bit. "....I thought you didn't take apprentices? What's he doing here?"

"I don't take apprentices. At first when I agreed to help the rat with his work, I thought his theories and formulas were brilliant. Now that we've been attempting to work together for the past several months, I'm learning he's completely insane, has the personal hygiene of a mushroom farm and the mood stability of a tectonic plate fissure." Singed replied drolly, switching off the burner under a flask. "But, a broken clock is right twice a day, and the funding we've been receiving from the Zaun Trade Commission is nothing to sneeze at. Now, I need to finish up a few things here, but if you could just tell Twitch exactly what you're looking for, I'll be glad to start on it straight away. ...anything else you're in need of?"

"....having trouble sleeping, but nothing out of the ordinary." Teemo replied, pushing himself off the lab stool. "Thank you. I'll pay you when it's done."

"Excellent, I'll keep in touch." Singed replied with a chipper nod, starting to mix ingredients for whatever project he was working on. Teemo seemed in much worse spirits though, going to the other room to speak with the already agitated rodent. He knew that people were often different from when they faced on the Fields of Justice, but from what Singed was already saying, Twitch didn't seem like the sort of creature Teemo wanted to spend much time around. As Twitch scribbled down notes feverishly, muttering and mumbling under his breath, Teemo was really quite afraid to interrupt, not wanting to receive a flask to his head in retaliation.

"Speak now, or forever hold your peace!" Twitch growled, not looking up from his notes, whiskers quivering as he spoke.

"Singed sent me in to tell you what I needed for a potion." Teemo replied.

"Singed? Sent you? All the way here to Zaun? Doesn't seem like something he'd do."

"What? No. I meant, sent me from the other room."

"OH. That makes /much/ more sense."

Teemo was quite confused now, but decided to press on.

"I need a silence potion."

"Silence, eh? Lock jaw should do the trick, you'll have to shoot it in their throat though. Ha ha, tetanus! Yes! Now, where will I find rusted nails and rotted wood at this hour?"

"No, not stopping someone from speaking. Like, magic silence."

"Well, if it was arcane solutions you were searching for, then why did you come to me? I'm a researcher gods bless it, not a damned magician."

Teemo could see by the seriously offended look on Twitch's face that the rodent was positively serious, really having trouble wrapping his mind around a meaning outside the literal ones. Teemo sighed, rubbing his temples.

"No! I need a chemical poison." Teemo said, speaking much more slowly and concisely.

"Uh-huh."

"That makes a mage unable to use his or her magic."

"OH....! Why didn't you just say so?" Twitch laughed, turning the page, scribbling feverishly again. "Done. And....done again. Alright, have a lovely day. Take care now. ....would you please get out of my light?"

"....I'm not in your light." Teemo replied, brows furrowing in confusion.

"....oh. That was quick." Twitch said, staring at the scout for a few moments. "....yes."

"Okay, I'll....just let you get to work." Teemo said, beginning to sidle his way out of the lab. Every day for the next five days, he would check up on the scientist and his lab rat partner, each day being told to come back tomorrow. On the sixth day, Teemo was welcomed with a pleasant surprise, the mad chemist explaining the poison's tentative success after receiving his payment.

"Twitch is the only one with any abilities in the arcane that we could test this poison with." Singed said as he handed Teemo the bottle. "His normal ability to 'Expunge' a person afflicted with his disease ridden poison wasn't able to be used after he received a treatment with this stuff. It's not very long lasting, perhaps about 30 seconds to a minute of 'silence'? But I'm sure you'll make good use of it nonetheless."

"Nonono, that's perfect. Thank you!" Teemo replied, gladly taking the precious poison, already making plans for loading his darts. Another day's run back to Piltover and the scout was more than ready to head home. Unfortunately, it seemed that the merchant ship he was planning on boarding from Piltover was indefinitely delayed with no other flights in line. Changing his travel plans, the scout decided that a good long hike was in order. Through the Ironspike Mountains to Demacia, the closest settlement that would possibly have a plane or airship heading in the direction of Bandle City. It seemed that his simple one and a half week trip was going to be extended to two weeks or more, the yordle very begrudgingly scampering along down the trail into the Ironspike Mountains, making sure to have packed as much as possible into his bags to ensure his survival. He was already feeling the affects of being away from his kind weighing on his mind, a dark, cold pit of loneliness weighing on his mind. Would they even welcome him back once he arrived back home? Of course, Teemo's mind immediately plummeted to the worse case scenario, that he would be shunned, rejected, ostracized. Hugging his arms, he continued his way down the mountain pass, trying to assure himself that he would be welcomed home by someone. His mother? Tristana? Someone would certainly be glad he was back in Bandle City, right?

"Hn...left and right, day and night, that's what makes the world go 'round~" Teemo finally needed to break the silence, to speak over the tumbling paranoia of his own thoughts, beginning to sing a song that was a favorite in his family as a child. It was a temporary comfort, something to drown out his own guilty conscience and scalding commentary on himself. "In and out. Thin and stout, that's what makes the world go 'round~! For every up, there is a down. For every square, there is a round~!"

"That's gotta sting."

[mahdu]

❝I'd Rather Stay Awake While I'm Asleep๑ ║ 'Cuz Everything Is Never as It Seems๑❞
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&❝ Somebody Wake Me From this Nightmare
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&I Can't Control Myself๑❞
»cυяяєит мσםє«&&&&&&&&
-neutral / a bit impatient-&&&&&&&&&&&&&










omgomgomgomgomgomgzz













「
It was a pretty long journey to Veigar's standards to get over to where he needed to be, considering he mostly traveled via teleport scrolls or portals. Still, the journey would have been a lot longer if not for the enlarged, decrepit bat he was riding on. It was one of the savage beasts living in the Shadow Isles. The creature wasn't used to the brightness outside of the Shadow Isles, and so Veigar had to blind it to prevent it from dieing of shock. He was in total control of where the bat flew, harshly tugging on a patch of it's fur whenever he needed it to change it's course. This was one of the benefits he got out of being so tiny (which he would never admit to being, of course.) If he were anything larger, the bat wouldn't be able to carry him. Though, even if the bat could, it was doubtable that anyone would want to use this beast as a means of transportation. It was disgusting, saliva constantly seeping between it's yellow sharp teeth in globs of green mucus. It was covered in scratches and dirt, mud matting it's smelly fur. And it's eyes, if it weren't for the magical blinds Veigar placed over them, were a glowing red. Every resident of the Shadow Isles had glowing eyes, giving them the ability to see through the darkness. That included the beasts that dwelled there. The dark mage chose to fly across mostly the ocean, not wanting to fly over the freezing lands of Freljord. He flew around Piltover, seeing that pathetic city-state as a dot in the distance. The City of Progress, hah! What a laugh. Those snooty know-it-alls could rot in hell for all he cared. As a matter of fact, everyone should.

A few days had passed since Veigar departed from the Shadow Isles to go on this little trip. If this small request kept the Shadow Isles's undead under control, then so be it. The gravedigger wasn't one to bother Veigar with these menial tasks very often, and when he did, it was important. So he had to go and grab this stupid undead before Yorick got all crazy about it, affecting his work, and thus causing the undead to get rowdy all over again. At least, that's what happened the first time Veigar declined the gravedigger's request. Freaking moron. Guess that was his version of a tantrum. Despite all the threats and pain Veigar dealt the gravedigger, he still couldn't properly do his work, and the undead ravaged the lands once more. If Veigar wanted to enjoy the Isles' darkness, he'd have to accept Yorick's request. And again, the darkness was worth it. He didn't have to do anything major, like slay a dragon or something. It just took time was all, and he'd much prefer doing something else, like terrorize Bandle City again. But that would have to wait, it seemed. Teemo's expression the other day when his mushrooms killed those Commandos was enough to keep him mildly amused, even now. He'd give out a small chuckle as Teemo's panicked expression would appear in his mind. Coupled with the agonized screams of said Commandos in the background, oh god. He'll never forget that day.

Soon, the stench radiating off of Zaun reached the pair flying up in the skies. The disgusting city-state was far off in the distance, but the dark mage could see little wandering dots below them. Those were, no doubt, citizens of Zaun, looking for those who dared to teleport in. To be honest, if Veigar wanted to teleport over, he could of. No doubt he'd be attacked upon arrival, but he could easily deal with a few pathetic criminals with ease. However, he had to bring an undead back with him. One teleport scroll worked only on one person. He had many teleport scrolls, that wasn't the problem. The problem was using the scroll on the undead he had to retrieve. The blundering idiot would most likely eat the piece of parchment, cancelling his teleport mid-way and tossing him into the inescapable rift. And the gravedigger would probably be even more upset about that than the undead ambling about Valoran on his own. Hence, the bat. The bat would be able to take on the undead as a passenger, however big he might be. Veigar already had a plan to make sure that he'd fit. He'll fit alright..

The Ironspike Mountains came into view soon after the stench of Zaun blew past. Now, all he had to do was find the stupid corpse, load him up, and head back to the Shadow Isles before the gravedigger let the undead scour the lands again. He may not seem like it, being the giant, moss-covered monster that he was, but he was rather emotional, especially when it came to his undead. He was like a Doctor who cared for his patients, in a way. He just didn't really say much is all. Veigar gave a harsh tug on the animal's fur, causing him to expel a small screech before slowly gliding down to the forest floor. In order to find the undead, he'd have to do a bit of looking around, and flying too close to the ground looking for it probably wasn't a good idea. It would attract too much attention, so he decided to land. As for the bat, well, he couldn't have it just following him around. He trapped the creature in a bubble, forcing it down to the ground. It would keep him at bay, but not only that, but it would prevent any passerby's from seeing him in the first place. They would only see whatever was behind the bat, the grass, the tree, the bushes. The bat could make all the noise he wanted, no one would be able to find him. He lowered his staff after producing the invisible cage, heading off to find this stupid dead creature.

The dark mage's patience had begun to wear thin as an hour and a half passed with no sign of the undead. Had the gravedigger sent him off on a wild goose chase? If he did, he wouldn't only be digging a hole for him.. he'd have to dig another one for himself! Veigar gave a frustrated huff.
“Where is it!?” he shouted to himself, pushing away at a small bush as he made his way past. And just as it seemed like he was at the tip of the iceberg of patience, a low, familiar moan caught his attention. Just as Yorick said, there was an undead here, wandering aimlessly throughout the forest. It's skin was a pale yellow, with darker yellows crusting around it's sharp nails and around the rim of his eye sockets. His eyes were blank, matching the color of his skin tone with no pupils. It had neck-length white hair and a brown, chewed up pair of shorts on. Thank goodness. Sometimes these undead lacked the clothing they had on when they died, and the dark mage preferred not to see all that. Or any "of that." It was a human, no doubt, or at least was a human, but now it's dead. When something dies, it doesn't matter what it used to be anymore. Still, because it was once a tall male human, Veigar would have to "compact" him in order to get him to fit on the bat. Easy to do, as all undead were pretty much collapsible. Heh.

At least his search was over. Finally. Now he just had to take it over to the bat so they could start their journey back over to the Shadow Isles. The undead creature trailed behind Veigar as a neon purple leash extended from his giant metal gauntlet to around the undead's torso. If he wrapped it around the undead's neck, the thing's head might fall off. So this would have to do. It walked slowly, swaying from side to side as it released long, putrid breathes in between. Despite the leash around his torso, it seemed to know that following this small creature would aid him in some kind of way. But that didn't stop him from trying to go after Veigar's brains, which the yordle would promptly give a swift bonk on his head with his metal staff in response. It was a bit of a walk back to the bat. Veigar had been walking for an hour and a half after all, so it would take just as much time to get back. The undead creature started to moan relentlessly half way there, beginning to tug on the leash as he twisted and turned. Veigar wasn't in the mood for this act of resistance, yelling at the undead.

“Cease your resistance, you mindless oaf, before I cut you into pieces!” Which was his plan to get the undead creature to fit upon the bat anyways, but would rather have the undead walk himself. Veigar didn't want to carry a bulk of twitching limbs around, as they'd be quite heavy. He could use his magic, but this was a much easier way. Still, if the zombie continued it's actions, he'd have no choice.

The undead gave another long moan. It seemed restless, or something akin to that, he wasn't sure if the mindless zombie could feel such things. It seemed to have a sense of basic instincts, quite like an animal, but not all zombies were like that. Take the gravedigger, for instance. He's dead, yet he's not like this mindless fool trailing behind him. There seemed to be different types of undead, though most of them were mindless, there were some with consciousness. Still, the funny thing was, most of the mindless zombies were once humans. Heh. But there were some yordle zombies as well, too, just as mindless and just as annoying. Veigar pointed the tip of his staff over to a small forest critter, a young, bright-eyed squirrel scurrying happily across the forest floor looking to scavenge some more nuts, but was suddenly wrenched from it's place and into Veigar's cold metal grasp. The young squirrel released a loud squeak as it suddenly flew. The leash remained connected to the palm of the gauntlet, as though it were permanently affixed to it. The dark mage continued walking with the squirrel now in his right hand, squirming in an attempt to free itself from Veigar's harsh grasp. Using his other hand, while still holding his metal staff, he grabbed a hold of the squirrel's head. At this point the squirrel's squirms became more frantic, ignoring the pain it caused as each movement scraped up against the harsh metal of Veigar's gauntlet. And without any hesitation, the mage pulled the squirrel's head off with a sickening squirt, ending the young squirrel's frantic movements and panicked squeaks. He held it's body in his gauntlet hand, it's head with it's beady onyx eyes wide open in the other. Blood squirted out of both ends, staining his hands with it's familiar crimson color. But Veigar didn't seem affected by this deranged act he just committed. Of course not! He's done much worse. This was nothing. It was as though he were pulling off the lid off of a container.

The mage tossed the head of the squirrel back at the undead behind him, who caught it and savagely started to gnaw on it. “There, now keep still!” He yelled back at the zombie. Problem solved. As he was busy tearing off the squirrel's head, he failed to realize that he was now on the path which led between the Mountains. There were only two paths that led between the Mountains, one that headed toward Freljord, and the other towards Noxus. He was currently crossing the path which goes through the Mountains towards Noxus. “Hurry up, you useless corpse!” he yelled again, tugging the undead across while it busied itself with eating the squirrel's brains. It's hands were covered in blood, as well as the whole bottom portion of it's face, entrails poking out of it's mouth. This path was used a lot by traders and merchants, along with other travelers. It was probably best if he weren't seen.. as someone like Veigar was something out of the ordinary for most people on his own. But with a zombie behind him? Might as well call the freaking press right now.

(( ooc: lol. i wonder how i'd react if i saw veigar on the road one day tugging along a zombie. and ROFL, totally just realized how gay i made yorick sound in my previous post. "i'll dig a hole just for you *wink wink*" LMAO. well he IS gay but still. LOL. ))





」

[magefeathers]

Teemo

The Swift Scout

"Captain Teemo, on duty!

'Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.' Teemo thought to himself as he took a break before embarking onto the mountain path, his back pack and small luggage case leaned on the other side of the cold, grey rock he was currently sitting on. Restless, but tired, Teemo fidgeted and squirmed in silence, looking back the way he had come. In that direction lay the criminal infested forests and Zaun, and beyond that, Piltover. He could go back, spend a few days at the Yordle Academy to get some rest and his wits back about him. Wits back about him? His wits were right where he left them! They hadn't gone, they were still there! Teemo realized he was pulling the fur off of his little pink 'mane' as he sorted through his thoughts, dusting the small clumps of fur from his finger tips with a frown. Teemo couldn't help but start picking and itching somewhere else, beginning to think he may have picked up a few of Twitch's fleas, the filthy rodent. Teemo rubbed his arms, going into his suitcase to retrieve his army green hooded cloak once again, deciding to press on. He was just nervous about going through Noxian territory before making his way to Demacia, that was all. 'I'm not going crazy. I don't need anyone! I can do this.'

The badger gave a firm nod as he adjusted his hat and flipped up the hood of his cloak. One of the nice things by now was that his hearing was back up to snuff, after the lengthy re-coop period of almost a week and a half. Night was beginning to settle in, but Teemo had no intent on stopping to rest any time soon. The mountain pass lent itself to plenty of other small paths that branched off, caves and small wooded areas making for excellent places to set up camp, once he got on it. Common sense would have told the badger to settle down, to set up a little place to rest for the night before going into the mountains, but it seemed that common sense was taking the day off. The only thing that caused Teemo to stop was an all to familiar voice and clanking footfall further down the pathway behind him.

"Hurry up you useless corpse!"

It was enough to made the hooded scout stop and turn around. He couldn't see the dark mage down the road, but there was no mistaking that voice, that tread. It seemed like he would be able to test out his newest poison much earlier than he expected, immediately scanning his surroundings for a vantage point and a hiding place. Teemo was quick to drop his bags in some nearby shrubs, finding his blow gun, his shoulder satchel containing his pre-loaded darts, the bottle of silence poison and empty darts that he normally used for his blind poison. His 'normal' darts simply had treated tips, being much smaller and easier to load than the blind darts, which had a hollow shaft and needle that he simply used a dropper to fill it. Not that it needed much, the badger climbing atop some rocks to get a higher vantage point of the surrounding area. He could see Veigar now, pulling along....a human? Teemo squinted, trying to make sense of the unusual sight. However, he knew he had to get to work, his laser focus immediately shifting to the task of loading a silence dart. Laying on the large rock, Teemo ran through the steps in his head, uncorking the bottle and popping the feathered cap off his dart, dropping the fluid inside. He used a bit more than what he typically used for his blind darts, not sure what the potency was and how long it would last on its target.

It was an unusual move for Teemo, the dark mage normally being the one to instigate a battle between them by terrorizing the peaceful little city. Laying down on the rock, blow gun poised and aimed for an unprotected area of his arm, Teemo's thoughts were all focused on ending their normal back and forth battles here and now. That would be the last time Veigar would threaten /his/ city, the last time he laughed at /his/ pain. His thoughts went surprisingly dark at a very rapid speed as Teemo fought off the urge to itch and pick once again. Once Veigar was within range, there was a light 'fwap' as Teemo took his shot, beginning to load another poisoned dart as he kept an eye out for any signs that his first shot had landed. Although Teemo was starting to have difficulty making out the other yordle's details in the dim lighting, the scout underestimated the other's night vision. The fuzzy scout hoped that Veigar wouldn't be able to spot him in his current position, and would just pump him full of needles until he retreated. He quietly wished he had a chance to set up a trap or two, to slow the dark mage down if he decided to run, but Teemo was confident in his ability to pursue his prey, so long as Veigar was silenced and couldn't stun him.

However, it seemed like the scout wasn't the only one paying attention to what was going on below, a stone drake's forked tongue picking up on the scent of the two yordles, along with tempting stench of the decaying zombie. It was a large beast, more than able to snap up either one of the yordles in its mouth in one bite. However, like the scout stalking the mage, the drake waited for the perfect moment to dive from the rocky over hanging.



"That's gotta sting."

[mahdu]

❝I'd Rather Stay Awake While I'm Asleep๑ ║ 'Cuz Everything Is Never as It Seems๑❞
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&❝ Somebody Wake Me From this Nightmare
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&I Can't Control Myself๑❞
»cυяяєит мσםє«&&&&&&&&
-excited-&&&&&&&&&&&&&










omgomgomgomgomgomgzz













「
The zombie seemed pretty content, now that it had something to chew on. It was no longer thrashing or moaning, but rather produced disgusting gurgling sounds as it devoured the squirrel's head, along with it's contents. A rather disgusting sight, a sight that would cause most to vomit, but Veigar thought nothing of it. The only thing that bothered him was the fact that the zombie's pace had slowed considerably, and he wanted to hurry up and cross the path and get back into the forest before anyone made them out. Luckily for them, night was slowly making it's way into the sky. The darker it became, the more apparent the zombie's and Veigar's glowing eyes became. Soon, it would be the only feature one would make out of the two. But as of now, there was still enough light to make out their frames as well as a few minor details, like the fact that Veigar was still clutching onto a decapitated squirrel. He tugged harshly on the leash linked from the palm of his gauntlet to the undead's torso in an attempt to hurry him along, but the corpse held no urgency, taking his sweet time as he solely concentrated on his snack. Like he knew of the potential dangers of getting caught? He was too stupid to think of such things. The dark mage would rather avoid confrontation right now, as it would most likely only prove to be more of an annoyance right now. If some silly criminals from Zaun attacked him, he wouldn't get much of a thrill out of killing them.. alright, he would. Of course he would. But right now, he had this stupid thing to look after. He came all this way to get this undead freak. If something were to happen to it, he'd be pretty pissed. So, instead of risking it, he'd rather have them hurry along.

They managed to get half way across the path before Veigar felt a small, sudden pinch in the arm, causing him to jerk slightly. With his attention on the zombie, he hadn't really been paying attention to anything other than him, trying to hurry the damn thing up. “Gah, stupid bug!” he yelled, assuming that the pinch was the work of some silly bug. He looked down at his arm to watch the pathetic bug die in an attempt to suck his blood, only filling it's body with a corrosive black liquid. But a bug wasn't what he saw, but rather, a dart. He pulled the object out of his arm to examine it closely, holding it up to his glowing, menacing eyes. A dart. A dart? ..Oh no. The neon purple leash linking Veigar's gauntlet to the undead wavered before disappearing completely, and the dark mage could feel a strange tingling sensation inside of him. His gauntlet produced random sparks, trying to reestablish the leash, but continually failing to do so. This was definitely one of Teemo's darts, but it wasn't one Veigar was familiar with. Usually he'd either go completely blind or feel a slight stinging wherever the dart him hit. But he could see perfectly fine, and there was no accompanied stinging. Just a weird feeling in his chest, one that seemed akin to the feeling he got whenever a certain Void Walker threw out a Null Sphere at him. But there was just no way, no way that this dart was having the same effects as a Null Sphere. There was just no way. No way!

Well, apparently there was a way. Even though his mind said there wasn't, his body clearly showed that there was, being unable to reestablish the leash around the zombie. The undead merely stood there, however, oblivious to the fact that he was freed. The invisible cage containing Veigar's bat would remain stable, unlike the leash, as Veigar had put enough magic to keep it in place for about half a day or so. But the leash required him to put miniscule amounts of magic to maintain it, but right now it seemed he was unable to do such a thing. To test this theory, he tried conjuring up a Baleful Strike, but his gauntlet only continued to give off sparks. That confirmed it alright: he was silenced. So Teemo had managed to obtain a poison to silence his magic, then. Well that was rather annoying. Still, you would think that Veigar would be incredibly worried. Right now he couldn't cast his spells, but a laugh from the other suggested otherwise. There was a tingle of excitement as he realized what was happening. Oh, Teemo. The Scout was full of surprises, wasn't he? Which was what made their back and forths so entertaining. And also, deep down, there was a small relief. He had hit Teemo with a blast of Primordial Strike after all, but this dart proved that Teemo was in fact still alive and kicking. He knew he'd still be alive. He just knew it!

“Bloody Badger! I didn't expect to see you so far from home. HAH! Don't tell me Bandle City banished it's precious hero. AHAHA!” Despite not knowing where Teemo was, he was sure the other could hear him just fine. He was close, somewhere, lurking. Watching him. Waiting for an opportunity to strike. And while the Scout waited, Veigar would stand there and taunt him like he always did. You'd think he should be running away, being silenced and all, and yet he remained as confident as ever. The idea of the Scout being thrown out of Bandle City was highly amusing. It was downright hilarious, all of it was.

“And despite all that happened that day, here you are! And with a new poison, just for me! You fool!” he said, turning his head as his glowing, menacing eyes suddenly shifted to stare directly at Teemo's little hiding spot. “When will you learn? There's nothing you can do to defeat me. Nothing!” he yelled, tossing aside the decapitated squirrel onto the floor. While he had been taunting Teemo previously, he had been looking around for the little guy. Being able to see in the dark came in handy in times like these, he supposed. The zombie remained at his side throughout all this, and seemed intent on staying close to the smaller being in hopes of obtaining some more brains. But for now, it continued eating it's little snack, slowly devouring the squirrel's brains. The dark mage was ready for whatever the Scout had to throw at him next, preparing to dodge an array of darts that would most likely be sent his way soon. But he was completely oblivious to the danger lurking above them, watching them carefully, also waiting for an opportune moment to strike.




」

[magefeathers]

Teemo

The Swift Scout

"Captain Teemo, on duty!

Veigar's insult threw some salt in a very fresh mental wound, the idea of being banished was one that hadn't exactly crossed his mind, but a far fetched possibility that Teemo didn't want to really consider. Teemo winced when Veigar's glowing gaze locked on his position, the scout knowing that he had been spotted. How could he still be acting so cocky? He was silenced for gods' sakes, a sitting duck that was just waiting to become Teemo's personal pin cushion. That's what pushed Teemo's buttons more than anything else; the fact Veigar never took anything seriously. The furry scout's brows furrowed as he began to engage, shooting dart after dart at the dark mage. Even being silenced, it still seemed Veigar was just as nimble as ever, seeming to dodge every projectile that was shot at him. Unfortunately, Veigar once again had the sensory advantage, Teemo only able to make out the mage's outline in the late evening light. That taunting laugh, the insult Teemo would never be able to defeat him....and THAT INFERNAL ITCHING! BY THE NINE, WERE THE FLEAS JUST TAP DANCING ON THE BACK OF HIS SHOULDERS? All of this compiled, Teemo snapped, breaking his normal stoic silence in combat for the second fight in a row.

"Shut up, shut up! SHUT UP!" Teemo nearly screamed from his rocky perch. He was going to shut that mage up even if it meant strangling him with his own two hands! With surprising quickness, the scout slid and hopped off the rock, closing the distance between him and Veigar, tossing his blow gun to the side, not even considering the fact the silence could wear off at any second. However, the scout's sudden movement and yell was enough to strike the drake, watching from above, the creature's muscles tightening. Teemo stopped in his tracks, a bellowing screech slicing through the air as the drake pounced, opening its wings as its talons made a snap for the scout. He was able to roll away in time, running back to where he had tossed his blow gun aside, his new focus on the grey scaled hunter. Teemo shot Veigar a glare before refocusing, loading up his blow gun and starting to shoot at the massive creature. Each dart stuck its target, but the drake didn't even seem to notice, its thick hide not affected by the regular poisoned darts. Teemo frowned as the drake banked and began heading for them again. The only way either one of them would make a get away was if Veigar got involved, but Teemo could only assume the silence was in effect, the purple leash on the zombie not having reappeared. His wits slowly getting back about him, Teemo shook his head, getting ready to run.

"I'll keep him busy until the poison wears off!" Teemo called, his voice having its normal, controlled and serious tone. As much as he hated having to trust Veigar not to dash off on him, it seemed like the mage wouldn't be going anywhere quickly with his undead charge. Teemo loaded up a blinding dart, standing his ground on the field, waiting for the drake to begin descending. The yordle took a breath, no longer feeling the urge to pick nor the need to scratch at some invisible fleas. It seemed that even the idea of cooperating with another yordle, in spite of who it was, was enough to relax him, at least for the moment. Once the drake got into range, Teemo let the dart fly, the heavier gauge needle sticking directly into the end of the creature's nose. As soon as it hit, Teemo began to run for his pack, the ground shaking when the drake crash landed on the ground, bellowing and shrieking as it tossed its head back and forth, trying to get the blackness out of its eyes. One second. Teemo knew he had much less time with a target that big, the scout being happy if this afforded him five seconds of time to set up a trap. Two seconds. His back pack in hand, Teemo began running back towards the drake. Its tongue began darting in and out rapidly, trying to get a taste of where the two yordles were. Three seconds. Teemo was the closest, the drake's jaws lolling open as it began to snake its way over to where the scout was working, taking out the parts of his Noxious Trap. Four seconds. Stuff the tank. Five seconds. Set the mechanism.

Instead of the normal 'c***k' that announced the mechanism's successful setting, there was a 'pop'. That....wasn't good. Teemo groaned, quite literally chucking the mushroom a safe distance away, the liquid oozing out of the tank from a dud mechanism. By this time, the drake had gotten its vision back and was racing across the field at the offending yordle, Teemo far too stubborn to run again before setting another trap. Stuff the tank. Set the mechanism. 'c***k'. A small smile graced Teemo's lips, but it was too soon to celebrate just yet. Teemo was just barely able to move out of the way as the drake slammed its tail down, setting off the trap and getting its tail covered in the oily fluid. Although its thick hide afforded it a few seconds of not noticing anything, the pain of the toxin soon set it, the creature giving a shrill shriek, wagging its tail as though to throw the poison off.

Although Teemo had dodged the blast from the second Noxious Trap and the creature's tail, he rolled right into the puddle of the first Trap's tank contents. His lower left arm was absolutely covered in the stuff, the scout knowing he didn't have much time before some permanent damage was done. Despite his first instincts to wave his arm, scream at the burning pain, Teemo tried to control himself. The waving would only make the poison penetrate deeper and screaming would only attract the attention of the drake that was currently distracted. Holding his arm out, Teemo quickly scurried to the bush where his other luggage bag was, panting and whispering "Ow. Ow. Ow, ow. Owowowow." to prevent himself from panicking. His lower arm was completely balded, his skin starting to sizzle from the chemical. With his good arm, Teemo quickly found his first aid kit, grabbing a bottle that simply had a picture of a mushroom with a smiley face on it and tore the cork out of it with his teeth. Veigar was on his own, surely the silence had worn off by now. Teemo applied the salve, the thick fluid rinsing away the oily poison, cooling the pain and preventing it from doing any more damage. Teemo gave a sigh of relief, mentally kicking himself for throwing himself into his own dud trap.

The drake shrieked, eyes fixing on another target as the pain from the badger's mushroom subsided. It began to streak towards Veigar and the zombie, more interested in gobbling up the dark mage's undead charge than the mage himself. But, the drake wouldn't be opposed to having seconds once the zombie was gone.



"That's gotta sting."

[mahdu]

❝I'd Rather Stay Awake While I'm Asleep๑ ║ 'Cuz Everything Is Never as It Seems๑❞
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&❝ Somebody Wake Me From this Nightmare
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&I Can't Control Myself๑❞
»cυяяєит мσםє«&&&&&&&&
-amused / pissed-&&&&&&&&&&&&&










omgomgomgomgomgomgzz













「
Veigar's shrill laughter was enough to push anyone's buttons on it's own, it's very existence mocking you in some sort of way with it's burning acidity. Teemo engaged the fight once more, sending out a wave of darts which the dark mage nimbly dodged. His reflexes were quite good, able to precisely see each projectile as they came, whereas Teemo had a more difficult time trying to aim as the sky continued to grow darker and darker. This impeded the furry Scout's abilities, but not Veigar's. Some of the darts were pretty off, yet still close enough for him to have to dodge. Pretty good for not being able to see, but still, not as good as it could of been if they were fighting in the sunlight. And even then, Veigar would still be as cocky as ever, despite his silenced state. It didn't even seem like he was the least bit concerned about his situation, making it all the more frustrating. He had nothing to go on, right? No magic to protect him, nothing to attack with. And Veigar certainly wasn't one for hand-to-hand combat, not at all. He was pretty weak, actually. If Teemo and himself were to have an arm wrestle, Teemo would own him every time. The dark mage wasn't delicate, but he just wasn't strong. He didn't have the bulging muscles Jarvan and Garen had, but rather stick like legs and arms, which were all covered up by his mage robes. Still, the advantage from being so light allowed him to move about so nimbly without much holding him back. He wasn't particularly speedy, though. Teemo could surely out run the mage. But usually he'd just use his magic to increase an attribute. He couldn't make himself insanely strong, but he could make himself strong enough to cheat and defeat Teemo in an arm wrestle, or give himself a small boost in a race between the two.

But with no magic to rely on, he really was a sitting duck. And yet he just dodged around, laughing at the foolish fur ball's attempts at trying to defeat him once and for all. He continued to provoke, to tease, to taunt, unaware of the other's struggle with nonexistant fleas. It all seemed to boil over as Teemo finally released a shout. “Shut up, shut up! SHUT UP!” Teemo had lost his cool, and Veigar was victorious! That seemed to always be one of the goals the dark mage set during their fights, to get Teemo to come out of his usual silent battle mode. He'd always achieve this by pushing at his buttons constantly, which is probably why Teemo hated him so god damn much, not just because he terrorized his City, but because he was an incredible pain in the a**. And no doubt he would pump him full of chemicals of Veigar let him, which he wouldn't, whereas Veigar would keep the other alive for his own amusement. Veigar didn't share the seething hate Teemo held. Sometimes Teemo would get under his skin, sure, but he didn't passionately hate the guy, or else Teemo would be a steaming lump of ash. But just because he didn't hate him, didn't mean that he liked him. HAH! He liked no one! He was just his plaything, that was all. Something for his own entertainment. Veigar laughed at the other's shout, feeling himself grip his metal staff, sensing another attack. It seemed as though Teemo had abandoned all logic and was about to come out and try and punch him square in his face, just to get him to shut up.

Veigar watched the other hop off the rock he perched himself on, charging straight towards the dark mage with a fist clenched up, ready to strike. He even deserted his weapon of choice, his blow gun, tossing it aside. It was like a charging bull seeing red, horns ready to dig themselves into his chest and relentlessly toss him from side to side. There really weren't many times that the two yordles would get close, not even during their battles. They were both ranged attackers. So yes, it was rare if they got close to one another. This act of rampaging towards him without a thought, purely acting out of his own anger, was also rare. This act of getting up close and personal just wasn't Teemo's style. Had he really pushed his buttons to the point of losing common sense? Or was there something else at work here? Veigar didn't know about the other's little struggle of being isolated for a bit too long. That would definitely contribute to Teemo's rash decision to try and punch a dark mage. He wanted to punish the other for this foolish error of judgement, but a bellowing screech interrupted the duo of yordles. Teemo came to an abrupt stop, and the two of them looked over to see a fairly large drake coming down from above to attempt to gobble up the Scout. Teemo was able to roll out of it's way, dodging a set of ruthless, pointy teeth in the process, before scampering off to grab his blow gun. It was as though an outside force had punished Teemo for forgetting himself just now, acting solely upon his rage rather than using his head.

Great. What the hell did this drake think he was doing? Interrupting their fight like that. Stupid beast. The giant creature only proved to be a giant nuisance in Veigar's eyes, whereas one who was unable to use magic should be absolutely terrified. But again, he only found the drake to be in the way, rather than a threat against his life. He glanced over at the Scout, only to see him glaring his way. The question was, what was the furry Scout planning to do, now that he had two opponents on his hands? Would he still try to continue to punch the mage in the face? He could try. Not sure if that drake wouldn't attempt to gobble him up while he was busy attempting to do so. Probably. Teemo had to make a choice: switch targets, or continue on with their battle. “I'll keep him busy until the poison wears off!” he called, his voice returning to it's serious state. It wasn't as loud and chaotic as it were a moment ago. Teemo had managed to cool his head in this brief amount of time, all thanks to the distraction the drake provided. So it seemed that the Scout had decided to switch targets in the end, acting as though Veigar wouldn't make any attempts himself on trying to attack him while Teemo dealt with the drake. Sure, Veigar was still silenced. But there was always the possibility of having something up his sleeve, y'know? Teemo placed upon him a very wary trust. Well, he sort of had no choice. That drake was after him, and if Teemo didn't switch targets, he'd be in a load of trouble.

So this was interesting. The dark mage got to stand there and watch the fur ball fight a drake on his own. While Teemo did his best to shoot up the drake, it was rather quiet and uneventful where Veigar was. The only sound being the zombie's continuous snacking upon the squirrel's head, sucking out the juicy bits with a disgusting slurp. Veigar observed as the furry Scout shot the drake in the nose, and based upon the way it acted afterwards, he could assume that Teemo had used a blinding dart. The mage hadn't really noticed the difference between Teemo's blinding dart and poison dart until now. Whether that might be helpful to know in the future, he wasn't sure. He managed to do just fine without the knowledge till now. Utilizing the time he had while the drake thrashed about, unable to see a thing, the sneaky Scout went over to a bunch of bushes and pulled out a backpack. Ah. Yes, that backpack usually stored the ingredients necessary to create his Noxious Traps. Wow, really? It seemed as though Teemo pretty much used the same strategy. Blind and plant mushrooms. It was an effective plan, though, unless your opponent knows about it. Veigar would have to think of something if Teemo ever blinded him again, figure out a way to prevent him from planting those pesky mushrooms. Not that they mattered, but still, it'd be fun to infuriate the fuzz ball by preventing him from pulling the usual. Heh heh. Veigar also got to see how Teemo put together one of his devices, as he had never actually seen him do it before. It seemed like a pretty complicated craft, stuffing the tank of the trap with god know's what before a slight pop was heard. Teemo didn't seem to happy about the noise, actually chucking the thing away before working on another one. The furry yordle barely managed to get out of the way as the drake's tail slammed down, causing Teemo's trap to explode under it's weight. That was close. Too close, in fact. Would Teemo be able to defeat it? Eh, it didn't seem likely. Did Veigar have any intentions of helping the Scout? Hell no. Even though the silence had wore off about ten seconds ago, he still enjoyed watching the other scampering around, dodging the drake's attacks and attempting to retaliate with some of his own. That thick skin of the monster's, as well as it's large size, made this fight pretty difficult. The effectiveness of Teemo's darts were halved, possibly even more, due to it's sheer size. The trap seemed to do some damage, though. But Teemo would need a heck of a lot more traps, but that would require a lot of time to stuff and set them all. Did he even have enough supplies to create that many?

Veigar laughed as Teemo landed in the contents of his previous trap, a trap that was apparently a dud as it failed to explode. But the liquid it contained was still as deadly as ever, burning through the fur on Teemo's arm. Not only had he killed his own people with this trap, but he also got himself burned by one! “Why do you insist on using those pathetic traps!? Don't tell me you forgot what happened the last time!” Recently, those traps were doing a lot more bad than good. He laughed as Teemo ran quickly towards his backpack, constantly muttering an ow under his breathe. The other pulled out a small bottle, what Veigar assumed to be the "antidote" to the poison. Too bad he didn't have more of that stuff for those poor Commandos the other day. They sure would have appreciated it. So while Teemo busied himself with applying the salve to his burns, there was a moment of silence. Veigar blinked. “... What, you expect me to slay the drake for you? After you silenced me!? HAH! I don't think so! Die by your own mushrooms!” he shouted, turning himself around to leave. Did he think Teemo could defeat the drake on his own? Well, maybe, but chances were pretty slim. Did he think Teemo could manage to escape the fight? Most likely. The guy was pretty fast, and a shroom or two could help slow the beast. Although.. he might be in a bit of trouble if the drake decided to take flight. Another blind might help, but.. OH WHAT DID HE CARE!? Sheesh. Teemo would make it out fine, somehow on his own.

As the dark mage was about to begin to retreat, faintly amused by Teemo's fight with the drake, his undead charge had all but finished enjoying it's savory squirrel brains. With nothing else to eat, it's eyes caught sight of the remainder of the squirrel's body which Veigar had thrown earlier. The bloody sight excited the zombie, making it's way towards the corpse, but also getting closer and closer towards the drake. Veigar turned his attention to the undead, about to re-attach a leash around it's torso. But the zombie wasn't at his side anymore.“Hmmm?” he looked over, only for his glowing yellow eyes to widen ever so slightly upon the sight of the drake, looming over the clueless undead. The zombie had reached it's destination, grabbing the squirrel's decapitated body to start sucking out it's lovely juices, unaware of the giant drake standing in front of him. In a matter of seconds, the drake bent down and grabbed the oblivious undead with it's teeth. You could hear a faint moan from inside the drake's mouth, the zombie's legs sticking out of it. The drake tilted it's head back, swallowing the zombie whole. Damn. Veigar had been careless. He took his eyes off of the zombie for a second and look where he wandered off to?

STRAIGHT into the drake's mouth. Right in there, as if to spite Veigar. He came all this way to fetch this thing, and it goes and gets eaten. He could be busy doing other things right now. He could be torturing another city-state, or even working on his little side projects. But he wasn't. Why? Because the gravedigger asked him to fetch a zombie, and to keep the zombies in the Shadow Isles under control, the dark mage agreed. But now this zombie got himself eaten, and the gravedigger was no doubt going to be upset. Which means he won't tend to the undead in the Isles, which means the undead are going to go on a rampage, which means HE WON'T BE ABLE TO GO THERE without constantly being harassed by mindless zombies. All of this seemed to tumble through his mind as the drake began to turn it's attention to the mage, unaware of the growing rage inside of the yordle. It took a loud step closer, shaking the Earth as it approached the mage.

“YOU!” Veigar yelled, raising his metal staff at the monster. A multitude of whistles echoed, it's sound growing louder and louder before a series of loud BOOMs went off as several conjured Dark Matter spawned and hurtled at and around the beast. The Earth shook with each blow, pebbles trembling with it's wake. The drake let out an agonized roar, it's body suffering massive blows, crushing in some of it's bones. Veigar had to be careful, however, he couldn't simply disintegrate the beast into nothingness on the off chance the undead wasn't digested by now. After the several Dark Matter went off, he positioned his right hand, the hand which had a giant metal gauntlet over it, at his side as though preparing an uppercut punch. But his hand was opened rather than fisted, and the gauntlet gave out a chaotic bunch of sparks from it's palm. A bright blue appeared, growing in it's size as it produced a loud, obnoxious noise which echoed throughout the mountain pass. Veigar twisted a mysterious cosmic energy in his hand, producing this bright ball of energy, lighting up the entire area. For those familiar with Veigar's spells on the Fields of Justice, they would recognize this to be his ultimate ability, the Primordial Strike. And yet this one appeared to be larger than the one he used on the Field, or even the one he used on Teemo the other day.

“SPIT THAT OUT!” As he yelled the word out, he pushed his arm forwards, effectively launching his Primordial Strike straight at the drake's neck. The blast burned through the monster's neck, decapitating the drake with it's powerful force. The Primordial Strike continued onwards into the sky, mimicking a fallen star, yet going in the opposite direction. The drake's head fell back down to the Earth after being knocked off by the strike, slamming back down with a loud thud. An odd purple steam radiated off of Veigar's metal gauntlet, which he merely waved away before standing himself upright again. The drake's body fell to the side, producing another tremble in the Earth, and Veigar casually walked on over to it to see if he could scavenge the zombie out of the drake's corpse. God damnit. If it got digested, he was going to be really pissed. The tip of his mage staff glowed then, and using it, he sliced through the drake's midsection in an attempt to locate the zombie.

“Stupid zombie.. WHERE ARE YOU! If you got digested, I'm gonna kill you!” Sure, his words didn't make any sense. If he was digested, then there'd be nothing to kill. But he was also an undead -- you couldn't kill an undead. Like he cared. He was angry! The contents of the drake's body spilled out like sludge, producing disgusting gurgling noises, but Veigar didn't seem at all phased by it. He got busy poking and prodding through all the guck, moving things around with his staff and pulling things out of the way. He started finding pieces of the undead, an arm, a finger, a foot, tossing them to the side before continuing his search. “I come all this way, and you get yourself eaten.. I'm gonna kill you. I'm gonna kill you, and then? I'm gonna kill that stupid gravedigger! No, no, I'll destroy his precious graveyard first, and then, I'm gonna kill him.” there was a long, low moan echoing from inside the drake's body. Well, at least that told him that the undead's head wasn't digested. “Shut up you mindless oaf!” The undead released another long moan in response as Veigar continued to search through the insides of the drake. By now his right hand, the soles of his boots as well as the tip of his staff were stained red. A bit of the drake's entrails had managed to slop onto the rim of the mage's hat as well. It was.. quite a sight. “Are you behind the liver? No. CURSES!”



」

[magefeathers]

Teemo

The Swift Scout

"Captain Teemo, on duty!

Teemo shot a rather nasty glare in the mage's general direction when he commented on the usefulness of the scout's traps, rather offended by the remark. One major mistake in eight years? That was a pretty good track record for something as volatile as his Noxious Traps. Sure, Teemo had been singed, burned and stung many a time by his own weapons, but that was why he always had a good stock of salves and antidotes in his first-aid kit. After all, it was a part of the scout's code; be prepared! He made it a habit that his foresight was just as strong as his hindsight, though it seemed that Teemo was making several major errors in judgement lately. First the over kill with the traps in the town square, then his foolish decision to run this entire trip on his own and falling into his own trap on top of it. Was he losing his touch? Was his critical eye for detail going blind by his need to protect Bandle from this one particular villain?

Teemo hopped to his feet as Veigar went to turn away, his heart plummeting down into his stomach, a completely involuntary reaction when faced with the thought of continuing his trek without seeing another yordle for at least another week. As much as the scout was trying to fight his desire for social interaction, the urge to itch, pick and scratch once again returned. 'Might as well get used to it now because after what happened in Bandle City, you're gonna be spending an awful lot of time on your own.'

However, it seemed that Veigar changed his mind when the beast swallowed the zombie he had been leading around, Teemo lowering the hood on his cloak to try to fully see what was going on. Needless to say, he was baffled by the ground shaking volley of Dark Matter and the final strike of Primordial Burst that he used on the drake, tearing the creature's head clear off. If the mage commanded that much power, why is it that time and time again he didn't kill off the hero of Bandle City? Teemo was being faced with a harsh reality that he wasn't really a hero, that he was only alive because Veigar enjoyed toying with him, embarrassing him. Teemo watched as the whole scene unfurled, anger, despise and hatred all welling up within him. Veigar seemed really quite occupied in finding something in that mess of entrails and bodily fluids. 'But if he's gone, then you'll be a hero again.'

It seemed to make so much sense, the swift scout packing up his blow gun in his back pack. No, relying on his poisons was too risky. He had to strike quickly and quietly, in close range before the mage had a chance to blast him. Teemo had a hunting knife in his luggage case, but decided against it. No, a rock over the head to knock the other out. Then just a quick cut while he was unconscious and it would all be over. He'd be a hero again. Taking up a decent sized rock in his good hand, Teemo began to stalk over, a swift, silent step that the mage would never be able to match with all his armor and robes, and certainly not one that could be heard over the sound of his own voice, cursing and yelling at a half digested zombie. The scout wasn't perturbed by the sight in the least, the part of his brain that would normally say 'dude, that's messed up' having switched off, just as it did on every other mission and military prowl. He was only doing what needed to be done to protect his precious city.

However, before Teemo could bring the rock down on Veigar's skull, the earth around them shook, the sound of rocks striking water could be heard....below them? That didn't make any sense. Again, the ground shook, cracks beginning to form in the soil and rock. Teemo dropped the rock out of his hand, body tensing to spring and run. However, there was nowhere to run to, seeing as the ground collapsed underneath them, a sinkhole opening up and swallowing the drake's body and the yordles whole.

"Ah!" the scout couldn't help but yell, hitting the bottom of the sinkhole with a loud splash, just as the corpse of the drake and the tiny master of evil. Shocked by the cold water and almost crippled by the pain of the freezing fluid on his chemically burned arm, Teemo ceased up, gasping and going under. Luckily, the underground stream wasn't that deep, the bottom of the slow moving mass of water able to be touched by the yordle's tip toes. Teemo sputtered and treaded his way to the shore of the stream, flopping onto the cold, grey earth with a cough and a sputter. He couldn't see if Veigar was alright, but called out for his benefit more than anything else, "You just HAD to use that meteor spell, didn't you?"

His voice was strained as he tried to elevate his wounded arm, waiting for it to dry somewhat. Teemo squinted and looked about, realizing how far down they had fallen. The hole that they had some through was at least twenty feet above them, the scout cursing under his breath.



"That's gotta sting."

[mahdu]

❝I'd Rather Stay Awake While I'm Asleep๑ ║ 'Cuz Everything Is Never as It Seems๑❞
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&❝ Somebody Wake Me From this Nightmare
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&I Can't Control Myself๑❞
»cυяяєит мσםє«&&&&&&&&
-peeved / kinda tired dawg.-&&&&&&&&&&&&&










omgomgomgomgomgomgzz













「
Digging through the entrails of the drake's body only proved to frustrate the dark mage further, tossing aside large intestines and other disgusting guts to get to the head of the zombie. It moaned relentlessly within for awhile, not quite liking it's predicament, but then it realized it was surrounded by flesh and started nibbling around it's walls. Idiot. This munching sound was what Veigar followed, pushing away at things, disregarding the fact that he was now a bloody mess. He was too frustrated to care what the Scout was up to, wrenching out a piece of a kidney and tossing it behind him. He merely continued to mutter, cursing and threatening at nothing. He didn't care. He was peeved. Veigar didn't plan on exerting that much energy, but the drake ate the zombie he had to bring back to the Isles, which aggravated the crap out of him. Almost a week of traveling to get here, and the undead thing gets eaten. Unbelievable. Still, the run in from Teemo was fairly amusing. He got a spiffy new silence poison, that should make their fights a bit more interesting in the future. He had no idea of the anger boiling inside of the Scout upon watching the dark mage slay off the drake. (Something which he said he wouldn't do, but thanks to the drake's actions, he had no choice.) There were.. varying degrees of Veigar's magical power. There was his lowest, which he'd mess around with Teemo with, then there was his medium, which he used to kill off this drake. Those were the two degrees of power he was most comfortable with controlling. The third degree, his highest, was a tad more chaotic. He'd only ever used it once or twice in his life so far, but it was dangerous to use, even to himself. So he opted for his lower and medium degrees for the most part.

Did he think of what the Scout might think upon seeing this? No, not really. By now he should realize that he toys with him, basically making him his plaything. There was no escaping it, either. He had to protect Bandle City. Preying on Teemo's urge to protect, Veigar would attack the City, thus forcing him to step up and fight him. And yet again, it seemed that Teemo's urge to protect the City was on the rise as he slowly made his way over with a rock in hand to attempt to knock the dark mage unconscious. That if he killed Veigar, Bandle City would accept and love him again. That they would stop running in fright at the sight of the furry yordle, afraid there might be an invisible mushroom trap lurking nearby. This made sense. Any yordle would strive toward being accepted, being talked to, as it's their nature. They'd take a face full of pie if it meant someone would talk to them, even if it was for a minute. Teemo just took a bit of a darker route. He wouldn't just take a pie to the face, he'd kill for it, which is what he was attempting to do right now. The dark mage, however, had found what he was looking for amidst all the guts, entrails and intestines. Even though he was covered in some bits of it, he was victorious with his findings.

“There you are!” he announced to himself, about to grab a fistful of the undead's long, gray hair. But the Earth began to tremble, which gave him a momentary pause. And then it happened again, harsher this time. “Hmm?” He curiously looked over his shoulder, spotting a furry Scout not too far behind him with a decently sized rock in his hands. But the fact that he was unusually close with a rock wasn't Veigar's main focus right now. Right now, his main focus was the strange earthquake. Teemo looked as though his fight or flight response had been activated, standing there frozen and tense, not sure if he should run or stay. But it seemed no matter what decision Teemo made, it wouldn't matter as the Earth they stood on began to crumble underneath them. Suddenly the pair, along with the drake's corpse, began to descend. One foot, five feet, thirteen feet, twenty feet. The drake's corpse produced a large splash of water as it made contact with the water below, though it didn't sink, being large enough to stay above the water. Veigar fell above it, landing right inside the creature's cut opened stomach. His landing produced a loud squish, cushioned by all the intestines and guts inside. Still, he'd rather have fallen in the water than in the insides of a beast.. but no matter.

The bloodied Champion reached up with his hand and pulled himself out of the drake's carcass, his other hand holding his staff, as well as a handful of gray hair from the undead's head. He lifted himself up onto the edge of the drake's skin, his entire body stained with globs of blood. From a third person view, it was kind of a scary sight. Veigar, emerging from the bowels of a fierce monster, covered in it's entrails. His hat, along with it's long tail at it's top drooped slightly at the weight of the liquid, the rim hiding his menacing yellow eyes. God. Today just was not his day, was it? “You just HAD to use that meteor spell, didn't you?” he heard Teemo's voice, which meant the furry yordle had also fallen along with him. That, and he hadn't died, or at least, wasn't unconscious. The dark mage didn't respond, however, though usually he would give a quick and loud yell to whatever Teemo said to him. Perhaps the chance that a piece of liver or a trickle of blood might sneak it's way into his mouth if he dared to open it kept him silent. He leaned over and allowed himself to fall into the water, dropping about four to five feet before splashing into the water. Probably for the best too, as it would help clean him up from the majority of dirty bits clinging to his clothing.

It wasn't long before Veigar was walking up the ascending Earth out of the water, his hat still drooping with the weight of the water absorbed in it's fibers. The rim of his hat partially got in the way of his eyes, though they were still the same as ever, always in a constant state of glare. He had switched the hand he used to hold onto the undead's hair, dragging it along behind him, resembling a child dragging along a toy. But Veigar didn't seem too happy. He looked pretty annoyed. After walking out of the water, he glanced at the Scout. “Silence! You stupid badger.” he said before continuing his way onto the the dry land. His voice seemed to lack it's usual energy behind it, nor did his retort include some sort of idle threat. It was like his droopy attire matched the way he was feeling, almost to a T. He just wasn't in the mood to mess with Teemo. All he wanted to do right now was go to the Shadow Isles, crawl up in a grave hole and relish the darkness. It had gotten pretty dark since the beginning of their fight, but not nearly as dark as night time in the Shadow Isles. That's the darkness he craved, and he wasn't getting it, all because of this stupid zombie. There was a large piece of liver stuck on his shoulder, which he promptly threw on the floor, making a sickening slap as it made contact. He tossed the undead's head in front of him, the creature releasing yet another long moan as it slowly rolled to a stop, but Veigar didn't yell at it to shut up this time. Damn, he was tired. The last place he wanted to be right now was stuck in an underground hole with Bandle City's stupid hero - or rather, former hero. After traveling for days straight on a blind, plague infested bat, scouring the forest for an hour searching for the zombie, dodging darts Teemo sent out at him while silenced, and decapitating a drake, a little bit of down time sounded pretty good. But the fun was just getting started, it seemed. Veigar turned around, looking up at the gaping hole above them. An ugly sky reflected down upon them, a large gray cloud shielding the moon from Veigar's preying eyes. The Primordial Strike he had launched earlier was long gone, no doubt it had dissipated while he was searching through the drake's carcass. A small groan escaped him as he thought of a way back up. His bat was still stuck in it's invisible cage for a few more hours.. but he'd rather not stay stuck down here with Teemo for that long. The Scout would just try to attack him the whole time. Well, he could whack him unconscious. It was only fair, seeing that Teemo had tried doing the same thing to him only moments ago.



」

[magefeathers]

Teemo

The Swift Scout

"Captain Teemo, on duty!

"Oh, quiet yourself," Teemo replied as Veigar slogged onto dry land, the both of them shivering, soaked to the bone and upset about this entire situation. Teemo could have been half way down the mountain pass by now if he hadn't gotten involved in this fight, the scout gingerly pulling his cloak up from over his head and spreading it out on a nearby rock. Recounts of past survival drills ran through his mind, the scout never having to have scraped together through anything quite like his. First things were first, he had to get his arm cleaned, covered and bandaged to avoid infection, the scout spotting his other luggage case bobbing and tumbling down the slow moving stream. He made a run for it, slogging back into the water with sharp hiss, dragging it over to the shore with his good hand. The furry scout shook himself out again with a quick 'brrrr!', carrying his other luggage case to where his backpack and cloak were. Teemo looked over the other male yordle, staring out of the hole they had come through.

"There's no way we're getting back out the way we came." Teemo said, obviously not really minding being the bearer of bad news. He opened up his luggage case, beginning to check and see what provisions he had that would be valuable. He had provisions for a day's hike for one person which included some jerky, dried berries and small loaf of bread, all of which were moist from their dip in the stream. His maps were all soaked, as were his bandages, gauze and spare sets of clothing. Still, wet gauze was better than no gauze. Without missing a beat, Teemo plopped down and began to clean his chemically burnt arm, dipping it into the clear water of the stream with another pained hiss, patting it dry and applying a different salve to it. He would have been more worried if he wasn't in pain, a third degree burn often meaning there would be long lasting deep tissue damage, that the nerves would be permanently wrecked and therefore no pain would be felt. He found some comfort in the sting, knowing that he'd just have to wear an arm bracer until his fur grew back to avoid a worried questioning from Tristana.

As convicted as Teemo just was in bashing Veigar over the head with a rock moments ago, he seemed much more interested in keeping the other yordle nearby now, his mind a bit jumbled from all the back and forth decisions that he had been making in the past few hours. As Teemo used his good hand and his teeth to tie a final knot on his bandages, he took another good look around while coming up with a course of action. He went into his luggage and removed the hunting knife in the side, starting to cut pieces of roots and throwing them into a pile.

"I don't like this any more than you." Teemo started, which was a terribly big lie. The scout felt a huge weight off his mind having someone of his own kind to talk to, even if that particular person was Veigar. "But our best bet is to follow this aquifer to its source. If we go up stream far enough, there should be a mouth of a cave or something we can climb out of or blast out of or whatever it is you do."

Teemo continued gathering bits and pieces of tinder to get a fire going, not wanting to ask the mage for any more help than he needed. After all, Teemo didn't want to seem desperate or clingy or....anything that would resemble having to rely on Veigar for something. Gods know the dark mage wouldn't hesitate to bring up that sort of thing while taunting him in the future. Teemo went into his book bag, pulling out the last mushroom husk and breaking it up with his foot, carrying it over to where he was piling up things to make a fire. He sighed and began striking the flint that he carried in his back pack, glad that it hadn't gotten wet in its tin. Although Teemo was working in silence, it was a much more comfortable silence, a small smile on his face as he blew on the lichen and moss he was using as tinder. The small flames began to lick the roots, producing a large amount of smoke and steam from the over all moist quality of its fuel. Teemo began to add a piece of the mushroom husk, then proceeded to tuck away his knife, spreading out his maps to dry.

"Don't think this changes anything," Teemo said with a small sigh, holding his hands out to try warming himself by the small, struggling fire. "I don't trust you any more than you trust me, but we're both screwed if we don't work together. We can go back to trying to kill each other when we're out of here. Sound good?"

Teemo extended his good hand in offering of a truce, at least for the time being. He still seemed put off by the zombie head that Veigar was dragging about, but decided not to question it. At least not now.



"That's gotta sting."

[mahdu]

❝I'd Rather Stay Awake While I'm Asleep๑ ║ 'Cuz Everything Is Never as It Seems๑❞
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&❝ Somebody Wake Me From this Nightmare
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&I Can't Control Myself๑❞
»cυяяєит мσםє«&&&&&&&&
-peeved / kinda tired dawg.-&&&&&&&&&&&&&










omgomgomgomgomgomgzz













「
“Oh, quiet yourself,” Teemo responded, yet Veigar said nothing against it, whereas normally he would have without hesitation. No doubt with a loud yell, a threat, and a casted spell in his direction. But now? Nothing. He was tired, craving the darkness of the Shadow Isles. Instead he was stuck here with an ex-hero and a head of a zombie. That gravedigger better make him the best damn grave ever, or he was going to see the afterlife of his afterlife. Being soaked to the bone, every time the faintest of winds blew his way, a small shiver would sneak up his spine. He tried not to, as it made him use energy he'd rather not waste, but he couldn't help it. He was pretty damn cold. Not as cold as he would be if here were in Freljord, but still, cold. And his mage robes weren't helping, but rather making it worse, keeping his body wet with all the water it managed to soak up. It was better than being covered in drake intestines and thick blood, but still pretty uncomfortable. At least it was night time. If it were day time, he might be in a worse off mood. He'd rather suffer with a bit of cold than have to deal with that blasted, blinding sunlight.

It was as though Teemo had somewhat read his thoughts as he gazed up at the gaping hole above them, considering his options of leaving. “There's no way we're getting back out the way we came.” the other said, just as Veigar thought about his bat lurking out in the forest. He glanced over at the other with his menacing eyes, pulled away from his thoughts. God damnit. Usually, whenever Veigar had finished his fun with the Scout, he'd leave. And Veigar was in no mood to have fun right now, rather opting for sleep instead. But he couldn't leave. They were stuck in a freaking underground hole, which meant he had to stay with the furry yordle over time. He couldn't use a teleport scroll, or else he'd have to leave behind the undead's head, the whole reason why he had gone through this mess. He wasn't leaving it behind now, when he could have easily done so as soon as it got eaten. The dark mage gave out an venomous huff in response, making his way further back on the dry land before plopping himself down on the ground with a moaning undead head on it's side sitting besides him. He was sure there was a way out. If it weren't for Teemo being here, he'd be content with just waiting for the bat to be released from it's cage to come and pick him up. Instead of resting like he wanted, now, he had to go and search for a way out of here before he blew this Scout's freaking head off with a face full of cosmic energy.

Teemo, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy the company despite being who it was. For Veigar, it didn't matter who you were, an extended amount of time with anyone was frowned upon by the dark mage. He didn't spend tons of time around anyone, but rather only making visits, like his trips to Bandle City. He and Teemo battled for, what, two hours max? That was their usual. That's about the longest he'd be around any certain individual at a time, really. But his fun usually didn't extend passed two hours, and so he'd leave. It passed it's usual two hour mark about ten minutes ago, and already Veigar was pretty agitated. He didn't enjoy the company of others. Well, unless they were being tortured, then he enjoyed the company of others. But Teemo wasn't being tortured. He seemed pretty content with their situation, which made it that much worse. He started to wish Teemo would attack him, charge at him like a bull as he tried before. But instead he merely sat there, working on bandaging his now hairless, burnt arm. Weird. Why on Earth wasn't he attacking him? Didn't he want his head on a pike? Didn't he want to finally defeat Bandle City's super villain? He definitely seemed to want to before, holding a giant freaking rock over his head. But it was as though that never even happened, sitting there, bandaging his arm. What the hell was that all about? Veigar didn't like it. Hurry up and attack, do something Veigar's used to. Don't do this, whatever this was.

“I don't like this any more than you,” Teemo started, again stirring the dark mage from his thoughts, “but our best bet is to follow this aquifer to it's source. If we go up stream far enough, there should be a mouth of a cave or something we can climb out of or blast out of or whatever it is you do.” Wow. This guy was a pain to be around when he wasn't trying to kill him. How the hell could anyone deal with someone like this? Or rather, how can anyone deal with anyone without killing them? Veigar didn't see any point in chatter, unless it was filled with taunts and teases, mocking the opponent. Threats. This was the communication Veigar was used to. Not this. Teemo should be insulting him, or at the very least trying to shoot him up with some poison darts. But he did neither, which bothered the dark mage. This was the closest thing he's had to what people would call a "normal conversation," and he didn't like it. Not one bit. The chipper young yordle's survival techniques and training had kicked in, already on the move onto his next plan of action. Follow the aquifer and hope it leads somewhere. Yeah, great idea genius. It's not like they had anywhere else to go. Alright, so Veigar was a bit cranky at the moment. Things weren't going the way he wanted them to go, which usually makes the mage kinda testy, especially when he's tired. He also had to keep an eye on the other, in case Teemo tried to pull another "rock stunt" on him. Having to watch his back was a pain. Damn, he just wanted to go back to the Shadow Isles. Perhaps he would just teleport.. no, no, no, he'd stick it out. Just a bit longer before he could enjoy that deep darkness again.

Speaking of deep darkness, a sudden light appeared, stinging at Veigar's eyes. He glared at the source, a fire Teemo had conjured up while he was left to his thoughts. Damn badger. Even though it hurt his eyes, it did manage to provide him some warmth. But he refused to go closer to it, content with the darker area he had placed himself in. The undead's head gave a low moan, trying to roll it's head to get closer, but failed in doing so. But then it spotted the piece of liver Veigar had thrown off his shoulder earlier and attempted to roll it's way over, not budging an inch. Stupid thing. Hadn't it learned from the first time? It got eaten by a freaking drake! Well, what should he expect from a typical mindless zombie? “Don't think this changes anything,” again, the Scout spoke, and Veigar started to wish he knew a silence spell to shut the furry yordle up. Honestly, they've been down here for what, five minutes? And this guy just would not stop talking! It would be different if Teemo were threatening him, but he wasn't. “I don't trust you any more than you trust me, but we're both screwed if we don't work together. We can go back to trying to kill each other when we're out of here. Sound good?” He said, extending a hand out towards the mage for them to shake on it.

But Veigar merely gave the other a bewildered look, his glowing eyes slightly skewed with his hat tilted a bit to the side due to it's droopyness. “Did you hit your head!?” he said, grabbing a handful of his robes and wringing out some of it's excess water. “ 'Work together.' Hah! I wouldn't work with the ex-Hero of Bandle City, let alone a two-bit Scout like you.” his tone seemed a bit harsher and cold than usual, exemplifying his cranky state. The dark mage got up, then, after drying a bit more of his robes before walking alongside the water dragging along the undead's head along with him. But after a few steps, he stopped, turning back around. “Well? What the hell are you waiting for!? Hurry up!” he yelled (though not as loud as it usually would be), turning back around to resume his walk, grumbling with each step. That was the closest thing Teemo was going to get to a truce, it seemed.

(( ooc: damn. i wanted to try to have them sit around the fire a bit longer and talk, but i like veigar's way of accepting teemo's truce too much XD. ah well, they'll have plenty of time to talk on their journey. yusss. ))



」

[magefeathers]

Teemo

The Swift Scout

"Captain Teemo, on duty!

"Did you hit your head!? I wouldn't work with the ex-hero of Bandle City, let alone a two bit scout like you?" Veigar sneered, never veering from his normal strategy of poking and prodding at fresh mental wounds. Teemo's contented expression faded, that 'bashing the dark mage over the head with a rock' strategy suddenly sounding really viable again. But the sense of paranoia had subsided, the scout once again having a brighter outlook on what to expect when he returned home. It was a mistake, and sure, there might be a few weeks of whispers and stares, but it couldn't possibly have been any worse when the newspapers seemed obsessed on poking and prodding about his and Tristana's relationship. Alright, maybe it would be worse than that, but he knew he still had people he could go back to. Either way, cooperation was the name of the game here. Teemo could start a fire, identify edible mosses and mushrooms and shoot down a cave otter or other critter if they were stuck down here for a long period of time while Veigar could----well, blow s**t up. Not that it seemed much anything dangerous lived down here, but you never knew when a dark mage could come in handy.

Teemo was already starting to dry, a compilation of the fire and removal of his cloak, now just donning his normal pants, hat and boots, his gloves on a rock nearby to dry as well. It was then that Veigar interrupted the silence again, calling out "Well, what the hell are you waiting for? Hurry up!"

Teemo looked a bit confused. He wanted to travel NOW? It was pitch black, they were soaked, had no idea where they were going--- Veigar was already starting to stomp off before Teemo could even form an argument against it, quickly gathering up his cloak, maps, busted pieces of mushroom husk and his bags, not wanting to lose the dark mage. Even if Veigar could see perfectly fine, the scout was left following the very slight amount of infrared light that was produced by either one of their body heat, a spectrum that all yordles could perceive with ease. However, that wasn't nearly enough to make the scout comfortable in navigating their dark surroundings, quickly closing the space between him and Veigar.

Just as Veigar was thrown off by Teemo's change in attitude, so was Teemo by Veigar's. Of course, the scout never imagined that the villain was a /pleasant/ person to talk to, with all the laughing, taunting and toying that he did, he imagined that Veigar would be more...at ease? Teemo wasn't sure what he was expecting really, perhaps thinking that there might be a shred of yordle joviality or comradery under all those robes, spikes and black magic. It seemed they were both getting a lesson in how their arch-enemies were in their down time, Teemo feeling the need to break the silence once again. He was no longer in battle mode and found silence unnerving when not on the battlefield. Maybe it was because those lives in Bandle City still weighed heavy on his mind, and silence meant more time for his mind to churn over with guilt. Sure, he didn't need to be the center of attention when with other yordles in Bandle City, even if that was normally the case, but usually everyone else was doing enough talking and chattering to where Teemo didn't need to say anything, just simply sit and enjoy everyone's company.

No, when out of battle, Teemo was quite friendly, polite, curious, 'charming' as someone had described him as before, just a few aspects that made him an enjoyable person to be around, at least to most other yordles. It was those same characteristics that often garnered him quite a few admirers as well, which made it very difficult for the tabloids to fathom why a guy like him was still single? Teemo always insisted his relationship with Tristana was platonic, so what other reason would he turn down girl after girl after girl? It was a simple reason really, but not something he'd ever come out with publicly. No, he would rather busy his mind with other things, like missions and friends, than try deal with the stress of finding a partner that suited his gender preferences. His family was very traditional and while yordles were very accepting of diversity, Teemo just felt that his life would be much easier if he avoided the romance scene altogether.

But, it seemed that those traits that deemed him enjoyable company to other yordles was irritating the stuffings out of the dark mage, who just seemed to be wanting to enjoy some quiet in the dark and cold caves. The furry scout was having trouble keeping up with Veigar, seeming to shuffle and stumble over every rock and crack that was in their path. Teemo was losing Veigar again, the scout picking up his pace and grabbing hold of a fold of Veigar's sopped robes with his bare hands.

"Slow down! I can't see a thing," Teemo demanded, not quite as intimidated by the mage as he would have been in the past. Even though he had just witnessed Veigar single handedly slay a drake with a magic power that could have easily incinerated the scout in a second, he didn't use it. For whatever reason, Veigar hadn't killed him yet. Although Teemo didn't like those particular reasons, the scout felt that he could test his bounds on what he could get away with with the mage, such as invading Veigar's personal space and constantly interrupting the quiet. "....so, why are you carrying a zombie head anyways?"



"That's gotta sting."

[mahdu]

❝I'd Rather Stay Awake While I'm Asleep๑ ║ 'Cuz Everything Is Never as It Seems๑❞
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&❝ Somebody Wake Me From this Nightmare
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&I Can't Control Myself๑❞
»cυяяєит мσםє«&&&&&&&&
-peeved / kinda tired dawg / What is this feeling!? I don't like it! DONT TOUCH ME!-&&&&&&&&&&&&&










omgomgomgomgomgomgzz













「
The cranky dark mage seemed even crueler than usual, which no one would think possible, but it was. He spat his words out with a stinging venom, directly attacking Teemo's mental wounds. Even though he had just insulted the other viciously, calling him a two bit scout, the furry yordle didn't try to attack him. Which was perhaps what the mage was going for, to restore their usual back and forth banter. To go back to what Veigar was used to, was familiar with, what he enjoyed. Not this, this casual talk. Well, not as casual as most conversations, but casual in Veigar's eyes. Teemo wasn't cursing at him, insulting, yelling, or anything like that. He just talked about their plan of action, even trying to get him to agree to a truce. A truce. Whenever someone offered a truce in the past, they would find themselves several feet buried in the ground. The dark mage didn't work with anyone. He worked alone, which was made apparent as well during the time he spent on the Fields of Justice. Did he care about winning the game? No. What he cared about was dominating his opponent, being, whoever shared mid lane with him on the enemy team. And if someone happened to pass by, he would take them down, too. The Champion stayed middle for most of the game, continuing to push and kill whoever got in his way, not even thinking about his own team. Teamwork just wasn't his thing. They can all get quadra killed for all he cared. He just wanted them out of his way so he could decimate the enemy, and then laugh at their failures. And other Champions gladly gave the mage his space, straying away from mid lane. Even members on his own team were hesitant on approaching him. Even though you couldn't attack your own teammates, there were rumors. Rumors that Veigar could, and no one wanted to test that theory.

It seemed the mage's acidic comment had struck a nerve or two in the Scout, restoring his urge to want to knock him over the head with a rock. To be honest, the mage didn't really think the City would go ahead and banish the other, despite how amusing it would be. They were yordles after all. Yordles were extremely compassionate and caring - well, most of them anyways. It's disgusting, really. Anyways, he might be getting a bit of heat from them for now, but once some time passes, wounds will start to heal, and things will start going back to normal. Though, in the back of their minds they'll still remember the event, so it won't be exactly the same, but it will be an improvement from their current treatment of the other. Honestly, Veigar didn't even see the point in even caring about those pathetic citizens. Teemo had, on multiple occasions, put his life on the line for those cretins. Hah! As if they deserved such heroism. Forget that. Let them rot. But Teemo was stubborn, and continued protecting the City as though he were a robot, programmed to only do just that no matter what. Idiot. Veigar's acidic response reflected his frustration, angry at the Scout for acting out of character. He wasn't used to this Teemo, and he didn't like it. He wanted the Teemo that tried to kill him, the one that shot darts, flung shrooms and yelled at him whenever Veigar taunted him. Not this subdued, content thing in front of him. Veigar didn't have a clue as to what Teemo was like during their down time between fights, nor did he care to know, or even ever want to know. But this situation forced him to see it, and again. He didn't like it.

The dark mage shouted at the other to hurry up. Did he care that he was still soaked? No. Did he care that it was dark? Absolutely not. He could see just fine. Sure he was chilly, and tired, and cranky. But he didn't want to spend another second with this Scout, this blabbering Scout that would not shut the hell up. Veigar had his talkative moments, but that was only when he was taunting and tormenting others. But at times like these, where all he wanted to do was rest, he was silent. And he preferred the silence. Silence and tormented screaming, actually, either would do fine. Anything else was just an annoyance, and Teemo's voice only seemed to pinch his eardrums each time he opened that god damned mouth of his. If he were threatening him, or cursing at him, that'd be a different story. That would be more tolerable than listening to Teemo's offer of a truce. That threw Veigar in for a loop. Why on Earth would this guy, the guy that wouldn't hesitate to pump him full of chemicals if given the chance, suddenly offer him a truce? Sure, they were stuck in an underground cave. But why would that stop the other from trying to off him? Because he hurt his arm? No, no, that wouldn't stop him. Teemo's been injured a lot more than that and still would continue to try to attack him. So then, what was it? Did he think he needed the mage to survive? To find a way out? That couldn't be it. The badger already had a plan set out for his escape, and his survival skills would keep him alive. Unless there was some creature lurking down here, which there might, but still. None of that mattered. Bandle City's number one villain was right here. Forget about the situation they were in, Teemo's main focus should be to end the mage's life, right here and now.

But it wasn't. And that confused the hell out of the mage. He should be trying to kill him, and yet he wasn't. He hadn't known about the prolonged period of time Teemo had been away from the other yordles, nor had he known about Teemo's little revelation. "Veigar can kill me, and yet he hasn't." The furry yordle knew he was Veigar's plaything. Still, why wouldn't that knowledge infuriate the other? Why wouldn't it give him more of a reason to want to kill the mage, knowing that all this time, Veigar was merely toying with him? Why wasn't he yelling and kicking and screaming at the mage for using him like that if he had truly realized this? Too many questions. Veigar had no clue why Teemo wasn't attacking him, regardless of their situation. He hoped that his insult would instigate the other to attack. It managed to piss him off, but the other didn't act upon this rage like he had earlier. Damn. Something just wasn't right here, and the sooner they got out of this underground cave, the better. Things would return to normal once they were out. Again, Teemo would load up his blow gun, and Veigar would laugh at him, and all would be right in the world. They just had to get out. Yes, surely, things would go back to the way it was once they left. Teemo would come out of whatever stupor he was in and reestablish his goal to slay the dark mage. Never again would the thought of making a truce with his arch-nemesis cross his mind.

Veigar stomped off rather quickly, trekking through the underground cave with fast paced footsteps. He was in a hurry to get out of course, but rather, he was also running away from this Teemo he wasn't used to. He wanted to pretend that this Teemo, this content, jovial creature didn't exist. That's not what Veigar enjoyed. Veigar enjoyed the lethal Teemo, the one that struck from the shadows, the one that viciously attacked the mage whenever he taunted him. This Teemo that had just offered him a truce put a sour taste in his mouth. It was just, ugh, disgusting. He wanted no part of that. This friendly, polite, curious, 'charming' Teemo could go rot. All he cared about was Teemo's battle mode. The mage could hear the other hurrying himself up, gathering up his supplies and rushing over to join him. Veigar's small steps were fast, decisive, each producing a small c***k as his metal boots hit the floor. He could see fine, so he had no problems with his footing, knowing exactly where to avoid a crack or step over an overturned stone. In his right hand he grasped a fistful of the undead's long silver hair, dragging it along behind him as it gave a small moan each time it collided into a rock. The undead's occasional moans, along with a pair of frantic footsteps behind him, became the only noises in the cave. And as they strayed away from the fire, along with the faint light produced from the gaping whole above, it became darker and darker. The silence and the darkness.. if he shut his eyes, he might be able to pretend that he were somewhere else. That he was in the Shadow Isles, in a grave during the day time. That those moans were coming from the surrounding undead, and the frantic footsteps was the gravedigger trying to chase down some of the ones that managed to sneak out of the graveyard. Ah, yes.. he started to feel a bit better.

But Veigar's fantasy was abruptly cut short, wrenching him back to reality as he felt a tug on his robes. It couldn't have been the undead, seeing as he was now reduced to only being a head. The only thing that was able to tug on his robes was Teemo. But this wasn't an attempt to attack the mage, to Veigar's dismay. He was merely grabbing on in an attempt to slow him down, grasping his robes so familiarly, as though they were best buds. Teemo may have touched his robes once or twice during a fight, but that was with the intention of harming him, which Veigar was totally okay with. But this touch lacked the intention of harming him. It was purely innocent. As soon as this hit him, a very strange, very strong wave of butterflies radiated throughout his body. This unfamiliar feeling hit him as soon as Teemo had grabbed his robes, causing his eyes to widen in a brief panic. Never, never had he felt such a feeling before. This was his yordle body reacting to the other yordle's touch, finally experiencing that faint euphoria after so many years of being isolated. At the same time, it made his stomach churn, making him want to vomit. “Slow down! I can't see a thing,” the other said, though Veigar hadn't heard a word of it. That grab had stopped him, frozen him in place as the powerful feeling coursed through him. After feeling this for a brief moment, the dark mage swiftly turned himself around, wrenching his robes free of the other's grasp to face the other, his glowing eyes still slightly widened.

“DON'T!” he yelled with a hint of panic in his voice. That feeling, that strange, overwhelming feeling actually scared the mage. What was that? What the hell was that!? He didn't like it, whatever it was.

His expression softened, then, slowly returning to it's usual glared state as the feeling disappeared as quickly as it came. The butterflies, the heavy pressure, the clenching of his chest, the pulsations, the shiver, the knot in his stomach, they all disappeared as soon as his robes were no longer in Teemo's hand. And that feeling was conjured only from the other yordle from touching his clothes, imagine what it would be like if he had touched his skin? Though that would be difficult, being that most of his body was covered up. Still, a rather unpleasant thought. He thought he was going to be sick there for a moment, but everything went back to normal in a quick second.

He glared at the Scout. And in a more even tone, said, “Don't touch me, badger.” in a slight hiss before turning back around to continue onwards. Now, Veigar really didn't like this side of Teemo. He oh so familiarly grabbed onto his clothing without a worry, without a care, as if he knew Veigar wouldn't do anything against him. He didn't fear what would happen if he dared to touch the mage, and that was really off putting.

The silence returned again, and Veigar attempted to indulge in the fantasy of being in the Isles. But the silence lasted but five seconds before the furry yordle had opened his mouth once again. “...so, why are you carrying a zombie head anyways?”

“SILENCE!” he spat out in a quick response. God damn! This guy was so freaking annoying! How can anyone deal with this? Is this how people normally behaved when they weren't being tortured? Well, Veigar did have some knowledge of how yordles lived their lives normally. Walking around the City with big idiotic grins on their faces, running around having fun, talking to one another about absolute nonsense, laughing, giggling, hugging, sharing, UGH. DISGUSTING. He enjoyed the thought of coming in and destroying all of that, effectively ending their laughter and replacing it with screams and cries of terror. That was more like it. And the mage never had to deal with that laughter, that mindless chatter, because no one initiated things like that with him. They were too frightened, petrified, to even approach him, let alone try and engage him in some small talk. Which was wise, because he'd blast them off the face of the Earth. Anyone except Teemo, that is, the one one who could get away scott free from doing such an act. If anyone else had tugged on his robes, they'd be a pile of ashes right now.



」

[magefeathers]

Teemo

The Swift Scout

"Captain Teemo, on duty!

"Whoa!" Teemo yelped when Veigar suddenly stopped, very nearly body checking the mage in front of him. What threw Teemo off even more was the verbal response, the tone of it.

"DON'T!" was the only word Veigar spit out, but it had such a tone of urgency to it, a tint of panic. Teemo was thoroughly confused, only having snatched the fabric to slow the other yordle down. And that....look. Although none of his facial features were visible from beneath the brim of his hat and collar of his robes, Veigar's eyes were expressive enough for the absence of his whole face. Normally, they were arched downwards towards the middle in an eternal glare, as though he disapproved of the entire existence of the world as a whole and just hadn't figured out how to blow it five ways to Thursday just yet. But, never had he ever seen Veigar with THAT look on his face. The mage's eyes were wide for a moment, then immediately shot back to their normal glare. Huh, looks like Teemo had found a nerve. "Don't touch me, badger."

The only response he got to his question about the zombie was a firm and angry "SILENCE!" Alright, now Teemo was really amused by this role reversal. In combat, it was always Veigar the one instigated banter, poking and prodding with his words and quips to illicit reactions from the scout. Teemo was always the one seeking to quiet the mage, ideally for good, but was just happy inflicting some damage. Now? Well, now the scout knew that the mage didn't like being touched. He knew that Veigar could kill him with the slightest shrug and yet hasn't. He was learning an awful lot about his arch enemy in these few moments of walking together, and had every intent on trying to get another rise out of the mage while he had the opportunity. After all, once they were out of the cave, everything was going to go back to normal, right? Well, maybe not entirely back to normal. But more normal than things were now.

"Oh, quit it. You're acting like I just tried socking you in the back of the head," Teemo said dismissively, his eyes adjusting a bit more to the darkness. The scout was feeling much better than he had earlier that evening, once again thinking straight and no longer feeling the urge to itch an army of invisible fleas on his coat. Of course, he wasn't about to tell Veigar any of that, still having to keep his own weaknesses guarded. After all, they were still enemies, they just weren't attempting to kill each other at the moment. This was a different playing field it seemed, one that Teemo found himself having an advantage on. It was a very rare opportunity that the scout certainly didn't want to squander. That being said, if it was any other yordle in Bandle City telling him to quiet down and not touch them, Teemo would have gladly respected their wishes, parting ways with a pleasant, 'Didn't mean to bother you. Have a good day!' But Veigar? Oh, was the mage going to regret having not covered his reaction better. "Besides, I wasn't touching /you/. I was just touching your robes."

There was another few moments of quiet, the amused tone in Teemo's voice and sly grin on the corners of his mouth indicating that this wasn't going to be the end of it. Teemo scampered up beside Veigar rather than following behind, elbowing the mage's arm with his unburnt arm in a playful manner. "THAT'S touching you."

Of course, Teemo thought nothing of the jest, not knowing what a strong impact it had on the dark mage. Even this slightest friendly gesture was earth shaking to Veigar, the scout pushing his buttons in a jovial, non-aggressive manner. It was Teemo's turn to have a bit of fun with Veigar, seeing why the dark mage enjoyed doing the same to the scout time and time again.



"That's gotta sting."

[mahdu]

❝I'd Rather Stay Awake While I'm Asleep๑ ║ 'Cuz Everything Is Never as It Seems๑❞
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&❝ Somebody Wake Me From this Nightmare
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&I Can't Control Myself๑❞
»cυяяєит мσםє«&&&&&&&&
-DONT FAWKIN TOUCH ME.-&&&&&&&&&&&&&










omgomgomgomgomgomgzz













「
Veigar didn't understand. He didn't understand why his body had such a powerful reaction to Teemo's tugging at his robes, but it did. It quite literally froze him on the spot, paralyzing him as his body pulsated with a strange, unfamiliar butterfly feeling. It felt as though he were falling, yet at the same time, he also felt incredibly sick. After being isolated so long, something Veigar was more than fine with, of course, this sudden introduction of yordle contact was potentially dangerous. His body had become accustomed to it's constant state of isolation, dealing with all the pains it brought with the fact. His body's reaction both welcomed and rejected the other yordle's closeness. The feeling had scared the mage. And that was difficult to manage, scaring someone who laughed in the face of death every day. He felt as though he couldn't control himself in that moment, becoming a temporary slave to the overpowering feeling. It definitely made him uneasy, walking just a tad faster now as though he were trying to escape both Teemo as well as that damn feeling he got earlier. He didn't know what it was, but, he knew that he never wanted to feel it again. Ever.

“Oh, quit it. You're acting like I just tried socking you in the back of the head,” the other said. What, had he forgotten about his attempt to knock him out with a rock already? Still, Veigar didn't like the Scout's tone of voice. It wasn't his serious voice he'd use in battle, or even the agitated, aggravated, incredibly pissed off voice he'd get after pushing his buttons enough. He couldn't sense any force behind it, anything that would suggest that he was going to try and rip his head off. It was a casual tone, a friendly tone, one that he might use when speaking to one of his pals back at home. The dark mage just ignored the Scout, his main focus on getting the heck out of here so he could end this devastating nightmare once and for all. He was not amused in any way, shape or form with this role reversal of theirs. Veigar might have the upper hand in their fights, but it seems on this playing field that they were on, Teemo had the upper hand. Even though Veigar was hating every second that ticked on by, the furry Scout seemed quite entertained. Of course he'd want to take advantage of the situation, for once, being able to defeat Veigar. Not in the way that he'd liked, he couldn't kill him, but he had the opportunity to push the mage's buttons. That was something, right?

Damn this chipper yordle. If Veigar had to spend a day in Bandle City without using any of his powers, he'd literally lose it. Sure, he was pretty darn insane already. But he might just go ahead and bash his head in several times until he knocked himself unconscious if he had to see, to hear, those yordles being all happy and friendly with one another for an entire day. To the mage, that was torture. “Besides, I wasn't touching /you/.. I was just touching your robes.” The guy just wouldn't quit it, would he? He wouldn't just be quiet and contemplate ways of trying to kill the dark mage like a good boy. No. Instead, he talked and talked and talked. Veigar let out a small groan to express this distaste, an angry groan, indicating that his annoyance level had definitely gone up. A warning sign, if you will, proceed with caution. If you continue down this path, the dark mage's very limited patience would crack, and he'd snap. If he didn't shut up, he was going to make him shut up. He took out his growing agitation on the poor undead's head, making sure it hit every single stone that he came across and clenching it's hair a bit tighter now. This seemed to ease up, however, as a few moments of quiet passed by. Finally. Perhaps after staring at the dark mage's back, he got the idea of trying to end Veigar's life with a quick sneaky stab in the neck. Or maybe he was thinking of some other way to kill him. Good.

But the mage couldn't have been any more wrong in his assumptions. When the furry yordle suddenly scampered forwards, the dark mage thought he was finally making a move against him. His grasp tightened around his staff, prepared for anything the Scout threw at him. Or at least, so he thought. He wasn't expecting the other to lightly elbow his arm, his fur tickling against his sleeves. The only thing separating Teemo's elbow from making direct contact to his skin was the thin layer of purple fabric. That feeling again. It hit him just as hard as before, overwhelming his small body. It just wasn't something it could handle, rejecting this strange euphoria brought on by Teemo's touch. It was like a poison. Great, another poison to add to Teemo's repertoire.. but this poison in particular was incredibly effective against this mage. “THAT'S touching you.” the other remarked. This friendly gesture was all fine and dandy to use with the citizens of Bandle City. But not Veigar, which Teemo would be learning in just a moment.

As soon as Teemo's words spilled out of his mouth, Veigar had charged at the Scout, releasing his grasp of the undead's head and allowing it to roll wherever it pleased as he raised his metal staff. It's yellow jewel affixed to it's top produced a chaotic ball of purple, twisting about a highly unstable cosmic energy. It gave off a loud screeching noise, trying it's best to maintain the shape of an orb, but sporadically changing it's shape. He pointed the end of his staff right at Teemo's face, illuminating the Scout's entire frame as he continued walking towards him until he had successfully backed Teemo into a wall. This all happened rather quick, instantly reacting as soon as that feeling welled up inside of him again. It was.. frightening. It frightened the dark mage. Teemo had no idea, had no idea of his touch's effect on Veigar, which was the reason why the dark mage reacted in such a strong fashion. He didn't want to feel that feeling again, he didn't WANT to! “Do you think this is funny? Do you THINK this is funny!?” he yelled at the other. But his voice was.. shaky.

He glared daggers as he looked directly into the other's eyes, though it was hard to tell where he might be looking as he lacked pupils. But at times like these, you just knew. His eyes were the only thing that held some sort of expression, and typically, they were always glaring. However, his body betrayed him as it trembled ever so slightly, shaken up by the sudden overwhelming feeling Teemo had once again brought up. And now Veigar was reacting as though Teemo had been the one to back him up in a corner, like a scared little animal reacting to this threat.

“You must have hit your head. SURELY, you must have. Did you forget who I am? Huh? Did you forget how many of your precious citizens I've slaughtered?!”

He shoved the metal staff's end closer, the chaotic cosmic energy swirling dangerously close to Teemo's face. “Touch me again! I DARE YOU! TOUCH me again!” he yelled, his voice shaky. It seemed there was a limit to how much Teemo could push Veigar's buttons before he got himself into a bit of trouble. The dark mage seemed to have snapped a bit, his rage conjuring up the disturbing swirl of cosmic energy now threatening to blow Teemo's head off.



」

[magefeathers]

Teemo

The Swift Scout

"Captain Teemo, on duty!

Teemo was quite surprised by how quickly this game became dangerous, the scout involuntarily dropping his luggage bag and reaching to cover his ears from the ghastly screeching that was produced by the small wizard's magic. The swift scout hardly any time to recover, Veigar shoving his staff at Teemo in a threatening manner, the pink maned yordle only able to move backwards to maintain a safe distance between Veigar's magic and his face. Would Teemo ever admit that it was a bad idea to see how far he could push the mage? Of course not. Was the entertainment worth getting his head blown off? ....alright, not really. But it was still worth trying. Teemo's heart was beating two hundred miles a minute, his mind in a really uncomfortable limbo of fighting Veigar or trying to maintain their wary, obviously one sided truce. That was, until Veigar began to speak again.

"Do you think this is funny!? Do you THINK this is /funny/?!" Veigar yelled, trying to maintain his volume and ferocity, but that shake, that quiver. That unfounded fear in his voice. Teemo had heard and seen it enough times before on the battlefield to sniff it out like a shark and a drop of blood. Teemo's back was pressed against the wall, his weapons completely out of grasp and a burning orb of cosmic energy right in his face, Veigar's eyes narrowed down to hardly anything but focused, burning slits, as though trying to sizzle a hole through Teemo's head with nothing but looks alone. The scout's mind was buzzing with actions, outs and possibilities, his expression dropping into the unreadable stoism that was much more familiar to Veigar, the scout weighing his options at lightning speed. Even though his expression was one that he wore on the battlefield, Teemo was quickly finding that the scales were tipping in favor of trying a new strategy, exploiting this new weakness.

"You must have hit your head. SURELY, you must have. Did you forget who I am? Huh? Did you forget how many of your precious citizens I've slaughtered?!” Veigar snarled, Teemo taking quick glances between the mage's eyes and his now illuminated body. Veigar was trembling, it didn't make any sense. Was the mage really that upset by being jostled, touched or grabbed? "Touch me again! I DARE YOU! TOUCH me again!"

Teemo tensed, really not liking the number of variables that were going into this encounter, all the information that didn't have anything backing it up or even very much logic attached. Teemo touches robes, Veigar gets scared. Teemo bumps Veigar, Veigar gets really mad, but still scared. Then again, his trembling could have simply been a by product of how angry he was, but that wouldn't add up considering the first round of intell and----Teemo shook his head, snapping himself out of the 'scout and battle mode' he was tumbling into. No, it was time to try something new. His expression softened up a bit, but he still remained straight faced, keeping his tone of voice low as to not excite Veigar to the point of detonating that magical something or other and taking Teemo's face off in the process.

"Alright, alright. It's not funny any more." Teemo assured at first, eyes wandering momentarily, determining that grabbing Veigar's wrist would probably be his best bet. He took a breath, trying to calm his racing heart and keep his head in this new game they were playing, as much as every instinct of his was yelling otherwise. A bit of honesty wouldn't hurt, Teemo addressing Veigar's accusation of him not remembering who the mage was, how many people he had killed. Teemo's tone did take on a bit of an irritated edge when Veigar brought up him hitting his head again, though his temper flare was short lived. "I didn't hit my head! I....I've just been on a two week trip on my own and got carried away. Won't happen again. Though---"

The sly tug of Teemo's expression happened just as quickly as his bandaged arm came up unexpectedly, the scout's ungloved hand gripping onto Veigar's arm, between his gauntlet and the sleeve of his robe. It wasn't a very forceful grab, Teemo almost purring the line, "I'm not one to turn down a dare."



"That's gotta sting."