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

[magefeathers]

Teemo

The Swift Scout

"Captain Teemo, on duty!

Teemo's expression was unwavering when Veigar finally pointed the staff in the scout's face, wrenching his arm from Teemo's tight grasp. The pink maned yordle was far too busy observing as many of Veigar's reactions as he could to entertain any fearful reactions beyond the presence of the warming feeling. It confused the scout, that Veigar's reaction seemed more pained than fearful before, the mage's spiteful words rolling right off the scout's back. Rather than answering any questions, it seemed that Teemo was left with more conundrums than he began with, leaving him with a sour outlook on the entire situation. No, Veigar was never one for making sense and Teemo would have been a fool for thinking that this situation was any different. As the mage left the lounge, Teemo leaned against the wall once again, awaiting the judgement that would be passed in Noxus's favor no doubt. Eventually, a purple robed witch from the Institute came to speak on the behalf of the League, addressing the two champions that had lingered.

"Thank you both for staying. Our judgement will be sent to your city-states' leaders post haste." she explained, looking them both over. "Although Bandle City's attacks on Noxus camps has been claimed to have been in self-defense, it has been noted that such attacks have occurred outside of Bandle's jurisdiction, such as the Voodoo Lands, as well as the Kumungu and Plague Jungles. Therefore, any further clearing or attacks on Noxian camps outside of the Sablestone Mountains by Bandle will be considered an act of war and will not be tolerated by the Institute. Furthermore, Noxian intrusion on the southern side of the Sablestone Mountains will also be considered a violation of this pact and will be treated as such. Is that understood?"

Both Champions nodded, Teemo knowing better than to argue with the judgement of the League. Although it obviously did favor the victor in their battle on Summoner's Rift, it was still a fair judgement, one that Bandle could certainly settle for. With that, both Champions took their scrolls and made their leave. It was late at night and Teemo was greeted by the normal crowd at The Grey Mare Inn, but there were no sounds of celebration, no triumphant pats or 'atta boys'. It was perhaps the most solemn Teemo had ever seen the crowd, awaiting to hear what was in store for their city.

"....the judgement wasn't too bad. Our military is just forbidden from attacking Noxian camps north of the Sablestone Mountains." Teemo finally obliged, sounding just as defeated as the rest of the crowd looked. There was a small mumble of 'well, it could be worse's and 'you guys did your best'. It had been a little over three weeks since Veigar's last attack on Bandle City, though the patrons of the bar still welcomed their hero with welcome arms, albeit sullen faces. It was actually a refreshing change of pace for Teemo, the men and women no longer prying and begging him for stories, which worked just fine for seemingly modest scout. Teemo never enjoyed being in the lime light, but tolerated it for the sake of everyone in Bandle City wanting someone to go to, to call their savior, their hero. Perhaps now, three weeks after the incident it was finally registering with everyone that he was in fact capable of making mistakes, that he was only human....well, yordle after all. Teemo was happy listening to everyone's take on the match, most everyone agreeing 'What the hell was that summoner thinking in choosing Veigar to represent Bandle City?'.

Their conversations, stories and small amounts of laughter went long into the night, everyone eventually parting ways after getting their fill of one another for the night. It seemed that Tristana was still far too ashamed of her own performance in the game to confront Teemo about anything, the mention of a truce with Veigar being forgotten in light of Bandle City's predicament. With another week left to his leave of absence, Teemo made sure he was properly stocked and ready to go for whatever mission awaited him when he returned. Recon and intelligence gathering missions seemed like they would be on a fore front of things, drawing maps of where Noxian camps were possibly popping up to at least maintain awareness of their surroundings.

Although Teemo didn't like the idea of leaving Bandle City, knowing that Veigar hardly went more than a month before attacking their home again, he was assigned to lead a troop of four other scouts to pick out any traces of Noxian camps on their side of the mountains, a short and simply scouring mission for the time being. At least then they would be in close range in case the dark mage decided to make a move. Even after a week on patrol, the Badger was surprised to hear that things were peaceful as ever in Bandle City, reconstruction from the last attack almost being completed. Teemo knew better though, that it seemed like it just the quiet before the storm.



"That's gotta sting."

[magefeathers]

Ozma

The Void Magician

'Ⓨou call that little trick magic?'

╔══════════════╗

Nearly twenty years had he been patient, ever since the Institute of War had been established to bring order back to Valoran and prevent Runeterra itself from being torn asunder. The Great Mage Wars devestated the landscape and threatened to consume all of the world into darkness, into chaos. Having peered into the Void, this prospect didn't bother the warlock, not a lick. In fact, he thought it kept things interesting. But, the days of flaunting his magic openly, becoming intoxicated by the power were over the day that that pesky Institute was put into place, Summoners working night and day to remedy the damage that their kind had done to Valoran's suffering landscape, dissipating conflicts as to assure that nothing like the Great Wars occurred again. He looked out on the gloomy landscape of the Shadow Isles from the small cave that he called home, dark, azure feathers ruffled by a chilling breeze. Yes, it was certainly hard to imagine that the creature that was now making his way down the scarcely present forest path had once been a man. Four decades of working with dark energies easily did that to a human, along with twisting one's own physical gifts in order to serve his own little desires and wishes. Just like Icarus, Ozma had fashioned himself a pair of wings, not from down and wax, but magic and his own flesh. And just like Icarus, Ozma had found himself too close to the sun, feathers sporadically erupting in a ruff around his neck, mixing with his hair, claws and pebbly scales all over his skin emerging before he could finally get a leash on that particular spell. Fairly disfigured, he had a tendency to keep himself covered and came away with a very valuable lesson in patience.

The Shadow Isles were a dark and dangerous place, the creatures that roamed the night showed no fear for the humanoids that seemed to haunt around /their/ island. A young, black coated boar was one such creature, giving the wizard a warning shriek when he got too close as it continued enjoying its own meal. Well, at least this would be an easy kill. Ozma gripped his staff in one hand, using the other to conjure up a moving shadow, which began to encircle the boar. The pig snorted, its eyes glowing faintly as it watched the shadows, beginning to back out of the thicket. With a mere flick of his finger, the shadows rose to form a wall, preventing the boar's escape. Beginning to panic, the pig squealed and charged in another direction, Ozma's shadow barrier rising up like a wave of spikes to herd it in the other direction. Like a cat toying with a mouse, Ozma willed the shadows back and forth, entertained by the beast's reactions, squeals and snorts. Deciding he had been there long enough, he raised his hand like a conductor leading a crescendo, the shadow spikes impaling through the creature's body, vanishing in a mist when Ozma released his mental grip on them. Yes, it was certainly the little things that kept him entertained nowadays, the wizard thought to himself as he heaved the juvenile piglet over his shoulder. There would be more than enough to feed himself and his ravens once they returned from their trip to Valoran. After all, how does one know what move to make if he doesn't keep tabs on his pawns?

Returning to the small cave that he called home, the warlock began to dress and clean the boar, a low, amethyst flame lighting in a fire pit outside the entrance of the cave. He simply enjoyed the quiet, the dark and the fog, peacefully eating the bits of boar meat that he roasted over the flame. That was until an all too familiar sound drew his attention, the calling and cawing of his scouts, the murder of large ravens circling the cave for a moment, landing all around on the rocks and the fire rather than the dead tree they normally covered, calling and begging for scraps of the boar. They were much larger than normal ravens, sporting four, glowing red eyes and glossy feathers that were dark as the Void itself. Ozma frowned a bit as he chewed a bite, pointing to their tree. With a few more squabbles and arguments, the birds took their normal seats as their master went back into the cave, emerging with a cloudy white, perfectly round stone. The birds began squawking and screeching again, Ozma's own feathers bristling.

"ENOUGH." he bellowed, his deep and commanding voice hushing all the birds at once. "If you aren't going to be orderly about this, then you won't be getting any of MY food at all. Edna, you're first."

With that, one of the ravens took a seat on her master's lap, opening her mouth and holding the seeing stone firmly in her beak. With a bit of coaxing, little parts and pieces of what she had observed began to roll around on the stone's surface, the sounds she had heard emerging from her gullet, gurgled and rough. It might not have been the most detailed method of gathering information, but it gave him enough of an idea on what to do and where to head next. Plus, it saved him the trouble of traveling to Valoran when it wasn't needed. Nothing important, but he still rewarded his charge with a small scrap of meat. One by one, he took in what the birds had seen. There had been a meeting of the League of Legends, apparently a squabble between Bandle and Noxus. Interesting...tensions were rising without his interference. A festival in Demacia, nothing worth noting. Seven birds later and it seemed things were all quiet on the western front.

"Saved the best for last. Rudy? Your turn." he said, giving the bird an affectionate scratch behind the head before presenting him with the seeing stone. An image of a particular, luminous eyed yordle appeared after several moments of flapping, stalking and establishing his surroundings. A rather wicked grin began to crawl across Ozma's hidden face, very familiar with Veigar even if he was still a stranger to the dark mage. By the looks of it and rough sounds that Rudy was able to mimic, it seemed that Veigar was preparing for another attack on Bandle City. "Hmph, even after being isolated for so long, that little yordle still couldn't keep away from his city for more than a month. No matter."

Ozma opened up the boar, fishing out the still warm liver for his favorite pet, giving it to Rudy as he took the stone from the bird's mouth. It seemed that the mage had come a long way since Ozma had set up the trio of yordles to take the fall seven years ago. Despite his initial spike in magic gain, everything seemed to point in the direction that Veigar was stagnating though, using his magic for petty little games, matches and personal fun. Ozma waved to the boar carcass. "Have at it. Rest up. When I return, there will be lots more work to do!"

Like a pack of starving wolves, the well-fed birds began to pick the carcass clean. He was finding that the one possibly fatal flaw in his plan, the idea that a yordle using dark magic could channel it much more efficiently than another other human or creature on Runeterra was that the mage was still hopelessly drawn to his own kind. Even if it was only to hurt, maim and kill them, Ozma didn't see any progress in Veigar's growth happening unless he was put under some stress, like a piece of coal being compressed into a diamond. Ozma would simply wipe the city from the map, a win win situation for the winged wizard. If Veigar decided to protect the city, he would certainly have to push himself into that dangerous third tier magic category to do so successfully, meaning that Ozma would be one step closer to taking Veigar 'under his wing' so to speak. If Veigar allows the city to crumble beneath the rock, then it means that the dark mage has some disconnect from the other yordles and that Veigar would have one less thing to play with, still pushing Veigar closer into Ozma's tutelage. It was a gradual process, but one that was being meticulously planned. Summoning up the magic of a Teleport spell, Ozma arrived in the Sablestone Mountains in a matter of seconds, knowing he had no time to waste.

It would be a large job, but well worth the energy, Ozma beginning to focus his own magic into the reaches of space. This would require much more energy than a simple Dark Matter spell, the strain putting some level of discomfort on the wizard in spite of his tempered methods. He held his staff aloft, garnering the magic, focusing it into one point. The massive asteroid began to drift from its normal course in the depths of space, being summoned through the ether to Runeterra's surface. As before, a physical swing downwards of his staff signaled the finality of the hex being cast, the asteroid bursting into flames as it hit the atmosphere. Ozma took a breath, looking down at the city below. The yordle only had minutes before the rock made its impact, the citizens of Bandle taking note of the flaming projectile headed straight for them, a panic beginning to arise. Ozma made himself comfortable, watching the scene unfold from a sheltered area in the Sablestone Mountains.

╚══════════════╝

'Ⓘ'll show you true power!'

[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«&&&&&&&&
-shocked / angry / exhausted -&&&&&&&&&&&&&










omgomgomgomgomgomgzz













「
Weeks had passed since Veigar's game on the Fields of Justice. And boy, had he been busy. There were no errands to run for the gravedigger, as the gravedigger seemed to understand that there was about a two month waiting period before he could ask for another favor. Or else Veigar would just rip his head off. Again. No, no claiming mindless zombies. Between his decimating small villages and causing the lands of Valoran to once again fear him, he had been working on some of his projects. His projects all relating to enhancing his magics in some sort of way. He was always seeking out more power. He craved it. Tinkering with ancient textbook spells, reading it's olden languages was time consuming. He could read the spells just fine, knowing exactly how to translate it's content. What was hard was actually applying what it said to the real world. It was.. difficult. And sometimes he would have to go out and scavenge for rare ingredients, which would take even more time. But it was worth it. Oh, it was so worth it. He could always feel himself get a smidge stronger each time he successfully completed a spell. It was tough, now that he was on his own to learn the material, but, he could manage. It was nothing like before in his early days of magic training, where his teachers would spoon feed him a spell, he'd take it in, and instantly move onto the next one. It always amazed his teachers how fast and effectively he could take in and retain these magics, and most of them would refuse to continue on teaching him. Some refused him outright. That was when they met a quick demise. Those who wished to live would teach him, or else.

But now, in this stage of the game, he had exceeded most mages in the world. He was dubbed the title the Greatest Dark Mage of Valoran, though he certainly didn't feel like it. There was more power to obtain, he felt it in the core of his very being. Even if he had become the greatest dark mage, it certainly wouldn't stop him from seeking out more power. He was completely driven, without any real reason for it. There was no need to protect someone. He just wanted it. And he would use this power to achieve his goal, to take over all of Valoran. And so he dabbled with new spells, trying to increase this power between his ravaging of villages every now and then. The spell he was currently working on required a certain type of herb, flipping to a page in an old, dusty reference book to obtain more information about it. Mana Thistle. A glowing blue flower commonly found at the bottom of a mountain, near pure bodies of water, blooming only when the moon is full. Encased in thorns. Dies instantly upon loud noises. Ah, great. He had to use Mana Thistle for a spell before, and it was kind of a pain to retrieve. It was easy to find a mountain with a pure body of water around, what was hard was finding one that hadn't died. That's why they weren't so common, as they died quite easily to the smallest of sounds. A wolf growl could keel it over. And if he actually managed to find one that was alive, he had to carefully dig it away from the thorns surrounding it. One wrong move and he could kill it by accident, having to be incredibly gentle with the delicate flower. Which was difficult with his rough nature. Well, he had managed to procure one once, he'd be able to get another again.

Veigar would have to head down to the southern part of Valoran, over by the Plague Jungles to procure the flower. That's where he found one last time, he was sure there'd be another to pluck out there somewhere. And it was oh so conveniently close to Bandle City! Hah! Well then. He'd have to certainly make a quick detour to his favorite City to torment. Naturally, he couldn't get that close without paying at least a small visit. Besides, it's been, what, three? Four weeks since the last time he's attacked? It was high time to say hello. Surely they missed him. Especially a certain furry Scout, probably on the verge of bursting to tears missing the dark mage. Or rather, wishing he'd hurry up and show his face so that he could punch it. Who was Veigar to turn a blind eye to the Scout's desire? Unfortunately, he wouldn't be able to teleport on over like he usually would. He would have to take a plague infested bat. Why? Because while he was down there, he'd be gathering a Mana Thistle, that's why. The teleport sequence would mess up the herb's properties during transport, and it would lose it's energies. A depleted Mana Thistle was about as useless as a dead one. What was the point in that? It was an annoyance, sure, but no matter. It would take him a bit longer to get there than he would of liked, but once he was there, everything would be all better. He would just have to entertain himself with his fantasies, imagining the citizens of Bandle City cowering in fear as they ran in the streets, screaming bloody marry. Hee hee.

Of course, the dark mage had made a few extra stops along the way across Valoran, as the travel time had bored the heck out of him. Still, the flying bat was pretty fast. It was certainly faster than the city-state's methods of traveling, such as their ships and caravans. Forget that. How can someone travel like that? It was so god damn slow! What would usually take two weeks time for anyone else only took Veigar a few days to cross the lands, now crossing over the Voodoo area before the Sablestone Mountains came into view. Finally. A small, excited chuckle escaped as he scootched himself forwards. A small, clear enclosed vase made a small clink with his movement, being tied up to the bat's side. He planned on using this vase for the flower he'd gather afterwards in an attempt to keep it safe on the journey back. He'd enforce it with magic of course, but this vase would do quite nicely. Alright, first? Terrorize Bandle City. Then, after he's had his fun, he'd go and procure that Mana Thistle. Yes. Sounded like a good, solid plan. “Hurry up!” he yelled at the bat, tugging harshly on it's fur as it loud out a pained screech before increasing it's pace. But the minor annoyance in his appearance was quick to vanish as he approached the Mountains, the barrier separating Bandle City from the rest of the world. Veigar and his bat flew quite low, having to fly upwards as the Mountains blocked off his vision of the scenery behind it. They flew higher, and higher, and higher, and finally they reached the top of the Mountains. No longer did Sablestone prevent Veigar from seeing what was behind it, what it protected, Bandle City and it's surrounding forests.

But the look of excitement had disappeared completely, melting off of his small frame as his glowing yellow eyes went from intense thrill to utter shock. His wide eyes stared, not at his destination of Bandle City, but rather the tremendous asteroid hurdling down from the sky. It was huge. Hell, was that a planet!? No, certainly it wasn't a planet. It wasn't quite that large, but it sure seemed like it, especially to a small yordle like himself. It was like a small version of the moon decided it had enough of the land of yordles, rushing down to the Earth to finally destroy it, once and for all. Chaotic flames rasped around the giant asteroid as it's speed increased slowly over time, gaining more, and more, momentum. No doubt, if that asteroid hit, Bandle City would be entirely ruined. Not a shred of the City would survive. Hell, it wasn't just Bandle City that would suffer. Everything south of Sablestone Mountains would be affected, covered in rubble and death. Not even the animals of the jungle would survive. The dark mage felt as though his blood had drained from his small little body, pouring out at the ends of his clawed toes. He forgot himself completely, probably not wise to do such a thing while seated on top of a vicious flying bat creature, but he couldn't help himself. It seems this asteroid wanted a turn in tormenting Bandle City's citizens, taking away Veigar's usual job.

Seeing this giant chunk of space matter hurdling towards Bandle City produced mixed feelings inside the dark mage. That was his City, his City that was about to be decimated. The City he took so much joy in harassing almost weekly. No other city-state could fulfill him quite like Bandle could, for some odd reason. Perhaps it was because he enjoyed ripping off the usual yordle nature of happiness and ugh. There was a tinge of panic as he unintentionally grasped a fistful of the bat's fur, still in complete awe at the sight before him. And all the way from here, he could hear them. The screams. The entire City was screaming, their clocks ticking away as their precious time slowly came to an end. It was certainly more screaming than he was used to hearing from the City, as he would only attack certain areas. Whereas this asteroid was attacking the whole thing. Now, Veigar's spells were commonly associated with space, as well as the objects that lingered there. But this asteroid? That certainly wasn't one of his doings. But how could this be? How can such a massive asteroid appear out of nowhere without someone knowing about it? What the hell were the meteorologists doing!? It was fishy. Something about this was fishy. Was this simply a natural occurrence? But if it was, wouldn't they have known about it? Bandle City did have quite a bit of technology on their hands, mostly due to the prodigy Heimerdinger. Certainly they would have been able to detect such a massive thing hurdling towards their City days ago, giving them time to prepare themselves, or evacuate at least. But here they were, and judging by their screams, it didn't seem as though they had a plan to combat this massive asteroid.

They were going to die.

A shiver, unlike the shivers of sick joy he was used to, ran down his spine as an incredibly brief image of a certain furry yordle flashed in his mind. He stood then, on the bat's back, his shocked eyes suddenly narrowing in slight determination. And with a kick, the blind bat was off, unknowingly rushing towards a giant rock of despair. Certainly the creature wouldn't have done such a thing.. if it could see. Good thing it couldn't due to Veigar's blinds, or else it would have died from the shock of sunlight. Anyways, the winged beast screeched occasionally, frantically flapping it's scarred wings drawing them closer and closer to the asteroid and it's crying City. The asteroid produced a huge shadow overcasting Bandle, erasing all light as it drew closer and closer. The asteroid was still considerably far.. there was time to stop it. Time to stop it from crushing his precious batch of toys. No one but him could kill them, no one! He raised his metal staff as his bat swooshed passed a cloud, cutting it clear in half as they sped onwards. Now they were directly under the smoldering rock, entering the giant shadow it produced. There was no thought process to his actions. There was no time, no time to hesitate. He was evil, yes. He was saving Bandle City, yes. But that didn't matter right now. His feelings didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Right now, it was just him versus this giant chunk of space rock. Repel it. That was the only thing he thought. Repel it. Push it back into space. Easier said than done. Certainly this would take all of his power to do considering it's size. And there was just no chance of Bandle City having some sort of weapon to counter this beast of an asteroid. They might have if given time to create such a thing, which would certainly require Heimerdinger, but they could. Except, they only had about an hour to create such a thing. That was just impossible. Veigar was their only hope, which was ironic, but, there was no other choice. This wasn't the Fields of Justice here. If he didn't help save their Nexus, thousands of people wouldn't die. It was just a stupid game. This was real life. If he didn't stop this oncoming force, their "Nexus," their City, would die, and so too would all of it's inhabitants, for good. There was no coming back. Bandle City would be erased forever. Not on his watch. If it were ever to be erased, it would be by his hands. Not by a giant rock!

Veigar had glared menacingly up at the approaching asteroid, glaring at his opponent as though challenging it to a duel. The dark mage raised his metal staff, it's jeweled end beginning to flicker with magic energy. “YOU! HOW DARE YOU THREATEN MY TOYS!?” The flicker of magic energy began to increase, growing at a rapid rate as it cackled with electricity. Sure, he couldn't be heard. And to those below, he was but a mere tiny speck in the sky. Surely with the asteroid, no one would spot him. He acted as though the asteroid were a living creature, scolding it with his usual fierce intensity. “ONLY I, VEIGAR, THE TINY MASTER OF EVIL, CAN DESTROY THIS PATHETIC CITY! IT'S MINE!” he shouted as he conjured up an incredibly large purple shield, produced by the tip of his mage staff. A loud, obnoxious screech sound echoed out into the skies from his position, much louder than what Teemo had heard that one day in the cave. It was as though his staff were crying in agony, forced to pump out incredible amounts of magic and somehow manage to siphon it properly. The purple shield spread out from his staff, forming into a bowled shape as it attempted to slow the still oncoming asteroid. The flaming rock finally came in contact with the large purple shield, perfectly cupping around the entire thing and effectively stopping it's advancement onto Bandle City in the sky. “ERK!” The pressure was too grand, forcing him to expel more and more amounts of magical energy to keep the asteroid from advancing. The sides of his metal staff suddenly bursted out, producing two flaming "wings" surrounding it's brightly glowing jewel. Akin to this, Veigar's eyes had glowed much brighter now, gaining a firey tinge or orange at it's edges. The asteroid continued to push and push, bearing down upon the black mage with all of its weight and built up momentum, constantly forcing the other to delve deeper and deeper into his power. He was forced into his highest degree of magics, the third tier, the tier he couldn't control. You could tell as his magic was all over the place, without focus, chaotically spinning and whirling around him.

He needed more, more, MORE power! Despite his body feeling as though it were splitting in half, he continued to push harder, his flaming eyes and staff slowly starting to shove the giant asteroid back. An inch. A small inch, it moved backwards. The chaotic purple shield was starting to push instead of merely holding the giant rock in place. Another inch. From below, Bandle City was illuminated with this purple shield's light, the only thing stopping this monster of a rock from erasing Bandle City from the map. From beyond Sablestone Mountains, it appeared as though a brightly colored star was shining above the yordle lands, growing brighter and brighter as it continued to push away at the asteroid. Veigar didn't seem to have any thought about anything else other than the asteroid, disregarding the fact that he had extended well beyond the point of his medium degree of magic and into the unstable third. All he cared about was shoving this god damn thing back into space. And, being a mage who mainly used space as spell material, in a way he felt obligated, as though he were Space's Keeper. In the end, he wasn't going to allow anything, whether it be an asteroid or an army of Noxians, to destroy Bandle City. That was his job. No one else was going to touch it! Even though he was already pushing it, he further delved into his highest tier of magic, the uncontrolled energies unleashing an incredibly powerful blast from the bowl shaped shield cupping around the asteroid. The flaming rock was, after that push, finally knocked back into the sky, shot up back into space. It traveled up faster than it traveled down here, changing it's course suddenly with a loud BOOOOM! as it took off in the opposite direction. It was as though Veigar had attached a powerful rocket onto the rock, streams of white trailing behind it.

The dark mage stared at the sight of the receding asteroid through the thin layer of purple shield, his staff still raised. The asteroid was leaving, taking with it the perilous shadow it covered Bandle City with. The City was safe. It was over. With nothing pushing against his barrier, the thin purple layer started to diminish. It's bright light began to fade, slowly revealing the blue skies once more. The asteroid was gone. The darkness was gone. And now, the shield was gone. The only thing left standing now was Veigar and his bat, flapping it's wings without a clue as to what just occurred. A panting yordle allowed his arm to fall back to his side, his staff still cackling madly with chaotic energies. He had thrown everything into that barrier, all that he had to prevent it from squashing Bandle like a pancake. His vision had started to go hazy, feeling as though he were in a dream. He felt empty. Depleted. Vacant, only left with this burning and stinging sensation attacking his insides. The pain would only continue to grow, punishing him for his use of third tier magic without having any control over it. The stray magics had nowhere else to go, powerful stray magics, and they would seek refuge back inside the dark mage, causing him pain as it tried to absorb into his body. He felt the urge to puke, shaking his head as he adjusted his footing. It was then that he heard a wooosh, his wide eyes looking up to see a chunk from the large asteroid hurdling down at him. A piece must have broken off as he shot the asteroid back into space. Damn!

“AAARGGHH!” he, as well as his bat, was struck with the high velocity impact of the "boulder" that had broken off of the asteroid, smacking right into them. His bat released a pained screech as they were knocked out of the air, the boulder flying in one direction, and Veigar and his bat flying in another. After channeling his magic to fend off the asteroid, he was too exhausted to use his magic to save himself. This left him and the bat to fall to the Earth, a tiny speck from the sky rocketing down into the forests outskirting Bandle while the boulder headed off on the other side of the City. The citizens had seen this boulder and most of them made a break for it, chasing after the thing, unaware of the speck it had collided with on it's way downward. Poor Veigar and his bat fell from the sky, the dark mage having gone unconscious after the rock's impact after his pained yell. The pair plunged into the deep forest, branches of trees slowing their descent to a degree before their bodies finally stopped falling as they hit a stretch of grass. After the rustling from the branches as they fell through, along with the thud once they hit the ground, the forest was once again as silent and peaceful as ever. Despite having adopted an evil black mage and a plague infested bat, the forest was serene. A calm, gentle wind blew past, tugging at Veigar's robes. His metal staff lay a couple feet away from his outstretched hand.. and.. his infamously large mage hat lay caught in a brush nearby, it's long tail dancing in the wind. It was quiet again. Peaceful, as though the threat of an asteroid never existed in the first place. All was calm here. Birds chirped, flapping their wings as they moved from their nests. Rabbits hopped, curiously looking about before continuing it's search for food. A normal, peaceful forest surrounded the evil unconscious mage and his flying transport. They stuck out like a sore thumb, they didn't belong there in such a colorful, wonderfully happy and peaceful place.

The sunlight speckled across Veigar's face between the leaves above, the warmth tickling at his cheeks. It wasn't a feeling he was accustomed to, being that he wore his hat all the time which provided him a constant state of shade. He liked the dark. And he disliked the light. Even though his hat was large, it provided him with an equally as large shadow, and that's what the dark mage liked about it so much. Still, this unfamiliar feeling on his face, combined with the pain coursing through his veins had him crack open his yellow eyes. They no longer held it's fiery glow, but had dimmed considerably. Actually, they had dimmed beyond the point of their normal, actually looking quite muted in color. Drained, even. And likewise, his staff no longer sprouted it's fiery wings, but merely sizzled with the frequent spark around it's jewel. It, just like he was, had been pushed to the limit. Pretty dangerous for the both of them, but they would survive. They always survived. This wasn't the first time he had used his third tier of magic. Still, he had only tapped into it only a handful of times, considering he had no control over it. Which is why he wanted to further increase his knowledge, his power, so that he could control it. If he could control it, his body wouldn't be suffering right now. If he could control it, there wouldn't be any stray powerful magics. They would have all been siphoned into his shield. But now, now the stray magic hovered around his frame, seeping into his skin like a poison. It was a misty purple which clung to him, refusing to leave until they buried itself within him.

“Erk..” he panted, releasing a small squeak of pain as he pushed himself up slightly from the ground. His whole body screamed at him for his actions, dealing not only with the repercussions of his magic usage, but also from his fall. His eyes narrowed in pain, but also because they stung like hell for some reason. He failed to realize that he was no longer adorning his mage hat, and that the sunlight was smacking him right in the face. His mind was too hazy to notice such a thing, simply leaving him to wonder why his eyes stung so much, having to keep them practically squinted. The dark mage looked behind him, then, seeing his bat's wing was practically covering the bottom portion of his body. “Ugh, hey! Get off of me! GET OFF! You stupid bat!” he yelled at the semi-conscious creature, stubbornly grasping onto the end of Veigar's robe despite being attacked by a barrage of annoyed kicks. Even though Veigar had stopped a hurdling, massive asteroid from deleting Bandle City forever, he still seemed to manage some energy in his annoyance. It was as though he hadn't just shot back the giant mass of devastation.


」

[magefeathers]

Teemo

The Swift Scout

"Captain Teemo, on duty!

How could this have happened? It wasn't as though Bandle City turned a blind eye to such natural disasters, keeping a constant monitor on tremors, possible earthquakes, tsunamis, as much as they could to keep their people safe. And yet here they were, a state of panic resounding across the vast city state, their home thrust into shadow by the looming hunk of flaming rock. The military was doing its best to calm down the panicking public, trying in vain to organize evacuation brigades, moving parties, SOMETHING. The swift scout didn't partake in these efforts though, looking through his hand telescope from outside the scout's headquarters in a rather hopeless attempt to see any way of deflecting such a massive piece of rock, any clue. So this is how it all ended, hm? All the countless lives he ended to protect their city, all the battles, belittlement and banter he engaged in with Veigar, all adding up to nothing in the end. Teemo shook his head, gaze shooting up when the screams began to die down, gasps of amazement and cries of excitement being heard instead. Teemo looked up, a massive purple shield appearing over the city accompanied by an agonizing, distant screech, slowing down the rock's progress. Unbelievable! Had the summoners heard of their plight and decided to intervene? Surely that had to be it.

Moments passed, the asteroid eventually being pushed backwards, slowly at first, but then literally shot off like a bullet out of a gun, screams of terror being replaced by shouts of joy, hugging of loved ones. The purple shield began to dissipate, Teemo focused on the asteroid's path. A chunk was blown off and collided with another, much smaller being, the two of them going off in different directions. Although the scout couldn't make out exactly what it was that the rock had collided with seeing as the light it was emitting caused the lens of his telescope to flare, he had a hunch that was the person or creature responsible for /his/ city's survival. While the other yordles began to run after the chunk of rock that had broken off, Teemo took off in the other direction, after whatever had saved their city from utter destruction. Around people, buildings and obstacles he darted, the swift scout living up to his name as he navigated out of town and into the out skirting forests, his bag packed with most things that he would typically carry along for a short trip across town or a day's journey into the forest, namely his blow gun, darts, food, water, medical kit and flask, no traps coming along with him this day. The badger was very familiar with the forests, knowing precisely which trails to take to get him to the speck's landing spot more quickly, intent on making sure that the person responsible for saving them didn't suffer an early death because of their act. Then again, a fall like that and it was quite possible they had broken every bone in their gods loving body, but Teemo opted to remain optimistic.

As Teemo drew closer to the spot where the speck had landed, an all too familiar voice broke through the quiet of the grove, several birds flittering off in response to the noisy intrusion.

"Ugh, hey! Get off of me! GET OFF! You stupid bat!" Veigar's voice came, Teemo immediately becoming more cautious about approaching. His pace slowed as he drew closer, beginning to stalk along as opposed to running with the intent of saving the fallen villain. He hid amongst the bushes and loaded a silence dart, getting ready to take aim. For all he knew, Veigar was the whole reason that Bandle was in peril and simply got thrown down by his own doomsday device. That had to be it; Veigar would never do anything heroic unless it benefited him in some direct way. Teemo moved to a clearing in the bushes, took a breath and was about to shoot, his breath getting caught in his throat when his eyes fell upon the de-hatted mage. The surprise was enough to make him cough and sputter, shaking his head and staring. Teemo was by no means a forgetful person. Sure, he might breeze over someone's birthday, have a lunch date slip his mind or have trouble recalling a name, but there were three things he never forgot; a location, his direction and a face. Especially not one as unique as the merchant's, one that was as paramount in his life choices as that long eared yordle.

A rather intense concoction of emotions welled up within him as he slowly stood and emerged from the bush, knowing his cover had been blown by the rather unintended and abrasive cough. The first reaction that the scout was aware of was relief, an over-whelming urge to run over to the ex-merchant and give him a hug, tell him 'thank you' was the first thought on his mind. That was until reality set in. The robes, the plague infested bat, the shrill and harsh voice; even without his hat there was no denying the fact that the merchant that had set Teemo on the course to becoming a scout was his arch-enemy, the vicious villain himself. That then slowly spiraled into a very strong, very unfamiliar knot of betrayal, weighing on his stomach as though the scout had decided to swallow a piece of that space rock whole. The whole time, the badger stood in silence, staring at the de-hatted mage. Teemo almost would have been more satisfied to learn that Veigar was in fact a sentient, yodeling banana. That would have made more sense than....this.

"Y-you---" was the only thing Teemo could finally spit out, his blow gun dropping out of his hand as he came a step closer. An attempt to deny all of this, to assure himself that it was mere coincidence that Veigar shared the same coat color and consistency as the merchant, the same long, thin, tufted ears, but Teemo knew better, piece by piece falling into place. Even in his first meeting with the merchant, there had been a sense of playful competition between them over the course of that trip from Bandle City to Piltover. Teemo remembered their encounter so clearly, he felt terribly foolish for not recognizing the voice, in spite of its modified tone and shrillness.

'So...what exactly are you guys transporting?' the run away Commando asked after having been saved from being tossed over board by the human members of the ship, curious about what he had stumbled upon.

'Well, our paperwork says mechanical parts, spools of wire, cooper, boring stuff like that. Truth is, we've got a nice stash of hextech arms that we're gonna be unloading in Bilgewater.' the merchant replied rather casually, a smug little grin on his face. Of course, Teemo laughed, but received a look that told the Commando he wasn't joshing.

'That's...that's illegal! As a member of the Bandle City armed corps, I'm required to report all criminal activity---'

'Really? Well, that's funny. Because as a citizen of Bandle City, I'm required by law to report any inklings of armed personnel trying to go AWOL and abandoning their post.'


That was the first time that Teemo had ever been challenged in such a way, a moment that would stick with him for a very long time. As a child, Teemo's predisposition to honesty over maintaining the peace landed him in trouble time and time again, the young yordle having to guard his instinctive responses, need to poke holes in others' logic and plans in order to be accepted. Even at a young age, he was forced to put on a mask for the sake of social acceptance, an ability that he began to excel at through the years, but----

'What? Not gonna try for best four out of seven?'

'After you get nine bull's eyes in a row, I think I'll pass.'

'Aw, quit being such a chicken!' the Commando teased, receiving an annoyed look from the merchant. Feeling he over stepped his bounds, Teemo was quick to apologize and disperse the tension, just as he would have in Bandle City. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean---'

'Don't call me a chicken you damned Badger.'

'You're right, with ears like that I'd say you're more like a bunny rabbit.'

'Runt!'

'Baldie!'

The went back and forth until they ran out of names to call each other, not truly angry but just enjoying the quick draw of wits in the realm of petty insults.

"You." Teemo said again, the tears that had stung at his eyes as anger began to set in, beginning to realize his own truest intentions in seeking out the merchant after their initial and assumedly final meeting. Veigar was the first yordle that he met that he didn't feel the need to wear a mask, that challenged him without rejecting him for his responses. "This whole time. You....you knew!"

This whole time, the companion he had been searching for was right under his nose, their games much more dangerous and involving much more collateral. Teemo had spent the past several weeks wondering why Veigar had chosen /him/ out of every other yordle to be his personal plaything, but it suddenly made all the sense in the world to Teemo now. He grabbed Veigar by the front of his robes, anger and sorrow both causing his frame to tremble.

"It's been YOU all these years!?" Teemo shouted, not particularly minding the purple swirls of whatever that seemed to be hovering around the mage. "How---I...why!?"

His grip loosened slightly, tears stinging at his eyes as he raised a fist, looking ready to deck the weakened mage. However, just as quickly as the urge came, it began to disperse. Teemo wanted answers, and he wasn't going to get those by beating the mage senseless. Despite the scout's best efforts to bite back his emotions, a tear managed to roll over the corner of his eye. The scout didn't release his grip on Veigar's robes, though the intent to harm the mage gave way to a sense of painful betrayal as opposed to anger.

".....just tell me why." Teemo said, looking into the mage's hardly glowing, pupilless eyes.

"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«&&&&&&&&
-exhausted and absolutely confused -&&&&&&&&&&&&&










omgomgomgomgomgomgzz













「
God damn.. it was becoming a bit harder to breathe. He exhaled, taking a break from kicking the poor semi-conscious bat after successfully getting it to release it's grasp. Still laying on the forest floor, he turned, holding himself up with an elbow with a mild growl of annoyance escaping his throat. He was tired, magically exhausted, feeling his spare magics worming their way back inside of him. It prickled his insides, like he had just swallowed a bunch of thorns and needles. Each breathe sent another spike digging deeper into his gut. And his vision was on and off, only clear a couple of seconds after blinking before returning to a hazy state. His dimmed eyes squinted harshly against the sunlight, annoyed by it, yet not quite understanding what it meant. That he was "de-hatted." This gave his long, thin ears the opportunity to enjoy the outside air a little, free from being trapped inside the usual large mage hat. But instead of being straight up, they drooped ever so much, reflecting his exhausted condition. They would give an occasional twitch, having taking a hit during his fall down from the sky. Nothing major, it was just sore was all. What was more concerning was his spare magics running amok inside of him, dispelling itself by absorbing back inside his body. Ow.

Well, at least thanks to his efforts, Bandle City was safe again. Well, for now, until he attacked it. Still, considering what could have happened, his attacks were the lesser of two evils. Mapmakers wouldn't be making revisions, not today, as Bandle City stood for another day. That's right. Only he was allowed to go off and destroy it. Not some rock, not some army, but him. And he'd rather take it over than destroy it entirely. He wanted all of Valoran under his thumb after all. Who would be his slaves if everyone was dead? He shook his head. Well, this definitely wasn't what he planned on doing. Not at all. But there was no helping it. Still.. if he hadn't been around.. Bandle City would have.. he stifled the thought. No use thinking of what could of happened. The fact was the City was safe, and that was that. Now then, to deal with the aftermath of using too much of his magic. Right. Well, he should get comfortable. He figured he'd rest up a bit before getting the heck out of here to rest someplace else. He'd take the bat and just head straight for the Shadow Isles. Dealing with all this pain, all he wanted to do was crawl up in the darkest place possible and just.. die for a couple days. He wouldn't actually die, but it would certainly feel like it. Recuperating in the Shadow Isles sounded nice. Relishing the darkness sounded nice. Curling up into a ball in his nice, deep new grave sounded nice. He wish he could just Teleport there. Not like he cared at all about ditching the bat, forget that, but he certainly would be in a lot more pain if he tried. It would be pushing it really, but he didn't have any other choice. He would just have to ride the bat all the way back and hope he didn't fall unconscious on the journey. It would suck, it would be a bit hellish, but, he was sure he could make it.

But all hazy thoughts were pushed aside as a startling spurt of coughing reached his ears, causing them to flicker slightly. The dark mage's eyes wandered around the area in an attempt to find the source of the noise, unclear vision and disoriented state making this rather difficult to do. “Who's there!” he called out. His squinting eyes blinked, his vision refocusing enough to get brief glimpses of the area. Nothing appeared for a moment, until a ruffling of bushes revealed a furry, pink maned Scout. Oh god damnit. What the hell was he doing here?! “Oh, it's you! Go away! I'm not in the mood to destroy you right now!” he called out the other, annoyed by his presence and yet completely unaware to the other's feelings. He didn't expect the other to leave so willy nilly, not upon seeing his arch-nemesis in such a pitiful state. Of course not. Still, he didn't expect the extended silence that came after his attempt to shoo him away, actually expecting him to either laugh at him, yell at him, or charge at him. Not this silence. Curiously, as though raising a brow, he looked over. And, to what the dark mage could see, was looking rather.. stunned at the moment. Well, if the other had managed to figure out that he was the one that had saved Bandle, he had an excuse ready. That he wasn't going to let a rock decimate Bandle, that was his job. Or, Teemo could assume that Veigar had been the one to summon the asteroid, which was perfectly fine with him. Sure, let him think that. Either way, he was covered. Or at least, so he thought. “Y-you--”.the furry yordle started, actually stunned enough to drop his precious weapon of choice. What, did he truly think that he had summoned that powerful asteroid to destroy Bandle? Well, no doubt he'd have to be pretty powerful to summon that beast of a thing down here. It was certainly much larger than his usual Dark Matter. Still, this utterly shocked fur ball was quite a rare sight to see. It had Veigar taken aback somewhat, but remained where he was, eyes still squinting against the dreaded sunlight and still quite unaware to his current "de-hatted" situation.

Teemo held a look of utter shock for longer than he had expected. Was he really that shocked to see Veigar summon an asteroid onto Bandle? Not that he had, of course, but this is what the dark mage assumed Teemo was thinking. He had no idea what Teemo was actually thinking. He prepared himself for Teemo's barrage of heroic nonsense, saying how he'd get him for summoning that asteroid and scaring the wits out of everyone in Bandle City, yada yada. It was unexpected to see the furry yordle here, especially after his City had come nose to nose with it's impending doom not moments ago. Why the heck was he all the way out here!? But no matter. Even though Veigar would much prefer to be alone, he was here. And now he had to deal with him while making sure the other didn't fulfill his desires and kill him in his weakened state. That was a big no no. No throwing his head on a spike today, thank you very much. And then something appeared that really threw Veigar in for a loop. Blinking his squinted eyes to make sure he wasn't merely seeing things, he confirmed their appearance. Yep, they were there alright, rimming the furry Scout's eyes. Tears. Alright. Now that was rare. The incredibly strict, stealthy killer, locking away his emotions and practically becoming a robot while in battle -- had tears in his eyes. Veigar's head perked up a bit at this. What the..

“You.” he spoke again, though now Veigar was beginning to get the feeling that this was beyond what he was thinking of. Had Teemo truly been so upset about his summoning of the asteroid? Again, he didn't do such a thing, but assumed Teemo believed this. Well, he could see how the Scout would be angry.. but certainly he wouldn't cry, especially in front of the guy who summoned the monstrosity to begin with. No, Teemo would merely go after him without hesitation, without mercy, anger fueling his footsteps as he stabbed him in the neck with a poison dart. Surely that would have been his reaction, not this. Not this stunned, crying, angry reaction he was seeing before him. He had no idea what was going on in Teemo's head, confusing the daylights out of him. He didn't know how to react either. Should he be laughing? Or should he be yelling at him to stop? Those tears certainly didn't make him feel good per se. But perhaps his feelings were all jumbled up thanks to the funky magics worming their way into his body. Yeah, probably that. “This whole time. You.. you knew!” Teemo cried out, and again, Veigar was at a loss for words. He had absolutely no idea what Teemo was on about, or what he was speaking about. Had he confused him with something, or someone else? What the hell was going on!? All he could do was squint at the other, watching the other's reactions to whatever was going on. It was like there was an invisible person that Teemo was talking to, acting as though they had stabbed him in the back.

Within a blink (a slow, exhausted blink), the other was suddenly standing in front of him. And without the means to do anything else, he was suddenly lifted from the ground, pulled up by the collar of his robes. The jerk upwards caused a spike of pain to course through his body, biting back the feeling as his squinted eyes tried to focus onto the one holding him up. It took him a moment to collect himself in his disoriented state, his dimmed eyes finally finding the Scout's pained emerald gaze. “It's been YOU all these years!?” his shout seemed to echo in his head briefly, managing to refocus himself without having to shake his head. “How-- I.. why!?” The other's grip loosened slightly, raising a fist back in an attempt to build it's momentum for a punch. Veigar had absolutely no idea what the heck was going on here. Teemo's bizarre reaction was so strong, so intense, and so misplaced. He shouldn't be crying, he should be shoving poison darts in his neck. But Teemo looked so.. hurt. Not physically, but mentally, hurt. Like Veigar had betrayed him. What the hell was that all about!? They were enemies! He was evil for god sakes! Just what the heck was happening!? But the sight of the Scout's fist had his thoughts recoil, his arm twitching in an attempt to do something about this oncoming threat. But right now, that's all he could really do. He could conjure up some magic, but it was going to hurt like hell. He might be better off with just taking the punch to the face instead. The dark mage turned his head slightly, expecting there to be an impact across his face. He couldn't really tell for sure what was going on as his sight kept getting blurry on him, but he had certainly seen a fist. And that was no doubt going to bring a bit of pain.

Then again, the Scout seemed to be on a roll of surprising him. He saw the fist and yet there was no accompaniment of pain. He dared to look back, seeing that his fist had lowered slightly. But, now, Teemo adopted a new expression. The tinge of anger had gone. And now, now there was just sadness. Bitter sadness, like Veigar had taken Teemo's precious thing and smashed it to pieces. He would like to take the credit for it, whatever it was. But he just had no clue as to what Teemo was accusing him of. “...just tell me why.” The Scout's voice was shaken, almost breaking as he stared him straight in the eyes. So much had gone on, his mind was still trying to wrap around it. Slowly,, his brain was catching up to the current events. The one thing he couldn't get over were the sight of those tears, one having finally slid down his cheek. The dark mage's breathing was a bit shaky, loud enough to be heard as he still had trouble taking in oxygen. He needed to recuperate. This added stress certainly wasn't doing him any good, though, he always tended to put his poor body through such strenuous ordeals without even batting an eyelash. Well, he didn't have eyelashes, but still. He merely looked into the other's saddened, pained gaze in an attempt to make this all out. But he came up with squat. Zilch. Nothing. Nada. Teemo's reactions didn't fit into any scenario he thought of.

Finally, he let out a small growl. “Damnit Badger.. haa.. what the hell are you talking about!?” he gave his best effort to yell, mustering up whatever energy he had left to do so. He took a moment to regain a bit of his breathe before speaking again. “If this is about the asteroid, then you should be trying to kill me, not crying like a little wimp! Haa.... and what the HELL is wrong with my eyes!?” For the life of him he could not stop his eyes from stinging like no tomorrow! And then he finally realized that it was the sun, or rather, the sun light causing this acidic feeling in his corneas. But wait a minute. He shouldn't be having sunlight in his face, not with the shade his hat provided.. his hat.. his.. hat. One of his long, thin ears twitched as he realized it's absence. “My hat! Tch.. stupid sun, so god damn bright..” he muttered the end to himself, eyes searching the area for his large mage hat.


」

[magefeathers]

Teemo

The Swift Scout

"Captain Teemo, on duty!

“Damnit Badger.. haa.. what the hell are you talking about!?” Veigar said, the expression on his face showing that he truly didn't have any idea what the scout was talking about. Teemo wasn't sure what hurt more; the initial sense of betrayal or the mage's refusal to acknowledge the situation. "If this is about the asteroid, then you should be trying to kill me, not crying like a little wimp! Haa.... and what the HELL is wrong with my eyes!?....My hat! Tch.. stupid sun, so god damn bright..”

In spite of his condition, his body prone and drained, Veigar still had the gall to speak as though he had complete control of the situation. In spite of the mage's heavy breathing, Teemo's need for answers over-rode his concern for the mage's safety, even if just momentarily. The pieces just didn't fit together; if Veigar didn't remember him, then why was the mage constantly harassing him, still using his nick name of choice for the scout? Even after Teemo introduced himself on the airship, the merchant was rather stubborn about avoiding names, seeming to prefer calling Teemo 'Badger', 'Squirt' and 'Runt' throughout their night together.

"Nine years ago, I stowed away on an airship heading for Piltover." Teemo said, still holding Veigar tight. "The Tipped Seahorse. I nearly got thrown overboard when I was caught, but another yordle stopped them. A merchant stepped in, YOU stepped in, said you let me on. I could have gotten killed and you saved me."

The scout's grip loosened as the mage's condition began to weigh on his mind after stating the fact Veigar had in fact saved him from having a very long trip over the banister of a smugglers' airship. That left him in a very troublesome dilemma. This would perhaps be the one and only time that Veigar was left in a prone and nearly defenseless condition, his displaced magic and beaten body would be no match for the scout's poison. Teemo glanced over at his dropped blow gun, considering the option. If the hero didn't put an end to Veigar's life now, he would only continue terrorizing Bandle City, all the subsequent lives that were lost would be on Teemo's shoulders. He considered this a moment, really wondering if that were the truth. Even the Commandos that had died a month ago by his traps no longer caused a rise of guilt, the scout's mind boxing up those troublesome emotions and hiding them in a dark corner as to not trouble their host. Teemo wanted...no, Teemo needed answers, and couldn't very well get them if Veigar died, here and now. It seemed like Veigar was having trouble holding himself up, his ears flopped slightly and yellow eyes squinting, the scout deciding on his course of action. He was going to save his arch-enemy.

The scout took a breath and leaned over, hoisting the mage up onto his shoulder like a sack of potatoes whether he liked it or not, the scout marching across the clearing into a shaded area, setting the dark mage down near a tree so he had something to lean on. Although Teemo had managed to shove the tears back and had resumed a somewhat normal stoic silence, it still felt as though his stomach were full of maggots, twisting, turning and wriggling in his guts. He picked up his bag with a small breath, noticing the mage's trademark steepled hat stuck into a bush nearby. Teemo retrieved that as well, strolling back to where he had set Veigar down. The only sounds disrupting the silence were the peaceful noises of nature, save for the occasional grunt and chuff of the plague bat. The scout gripped the wide brimmed hat in his hand, staring at Veigar for a few moments before finally deciding to give it back. He felt like just by looking at the de-hatted mage was corrupting those pleasant memories, just like everything else Veigar seemed to touch. Teemo was a bit put off by the purple mist that had been clinging to the mage but had dissipated by the time he came back over.

"I'm going to check to see if anything's broken. Just say something if it hurts where I'm squeezing," Teemo said, letting the militaristic part of his brain take the helm. It helped to slow the feeling of worms wriggling about inside him, suppressing a mild nausea as he took off his gloves in order to properly feel any bones out of place, any amounts of blood or fluid, leaving on his leather bracers that hid his burnt arm. Teemo left Veigar's hands and gauntlets be, starting to apply a gentle pressure to the area above Veigar's wrist and making an attempt to work his way up Veigar's arm, not even thinking about the asteroid or the dark mage's previous reactions of fear and pain to being touched.

"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«&&&&&&&&
-exhausted / incredibly amused -&&&&&&&&&&&&&










omgomgomgomgomgomgzz













「
So it seems Teemo believed him when he revealed that he had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. In some ways, the information helped. That meant that all this time, Veigar really hadn't known about who Teemo was in the past. That he hadn't made that connection between him and the brat who snuck on the ship. Curious enough as it was, as Teemo pretty much looked the same from back then. How the heck could he not recognize him? Years of isolated imprisonment, that's how. But Teemo didn't know of all that. On the other hand, this information was hurtful, as the dark mage didn't even seem to remember him. That could surely sting a bit, unaware to his obvious "betrayal." He had no idea, despite still using one of the several nicknames he had given the Scout on that night. Badger. He still didn't remember him. Even back then, he seemed to shy away from names. Becoming close to him was pretty difficult, and most simply just avoided it. But Teemo? Teemo had latched onto him as soon as he spoke up for the Badger, claiming that he was the one to let him on. Instead of marching off each time Veigar insulted or yelled at him, he (at first would apologize, which he promptly broke him out of the habit of doing) retorted. They would engage in a back and forth that was.. enjoyable. And later on, thinking about it made him crack a small smile. That night was the last time he had seen that interesting Badger, gone to make his own way in the world. But Veigar didn't have much time to think about the other, think about how he was doing, or whether or not he was still alive, as soon enough he and two other yordle merchants he worked with would be taking the fall for a bad trade gone wrong in Noxus.

“Nine years ago,” Teemo's voice pulled Veigar's attention, his straying eyes making their way back onto the Scout to end it's search for his mage hat. “I stowed away on an airship heading for Piltover. The Tipped Seahorse. I nearly got thrown overboard when I was caught, but another yordle stopped them. A merchant stepped in, YOU stepped in, said you let me on. I could have gotten killed and you saved me.” Teemo's grip loosened somewhat, a softness that seemed to effect Veigar as he started to feel a prickle of butterflies, as though he were getting goosebumps. His hand gave a small twitch in response to the slight reaction, though his mind was too hazy to actually register the feeling in his mind. Again, Veigar merely looked at him with his squinted eyes, though one of them appearing as if he were raising a brow slightly in response. “Hah.. as if I'd ever save anyone in my life! Your delusional!” he should, though lacking a bit of his usual confidence. Why? Because what Teemo said was quite troublesome. He had mentioned him being a merchant, that's why. And that was the very few things Veigar had remembered of himself in the past. That he was a merchant, or, well, used to be a merchant. That's why he knew how to work the black market so incredibly well. He obtained the knowledge of being a merchant, yet forgot most of his journeys as a merchant. The Tipped Seahorse rang several bells as well, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it, it certainly held a feel of familiarity to it. The reason why his words lacked his usual confidence was because.. there was a chance, albeit slim, that Teemo could be speaking the truth. That, before his time spent in prison, he had met this guy. How else would he know about him being a merchant? Or the Tipped Seahorse?

There was no way he could tell, not without most of his memories before his time in prison. It was all just blank, and he never really seemed to think about it until moments like these. Oh, s**t, I can't remember back that far... oh well. That's how it usually went. Lacking those memories didn't disturb him in the least. He was already disturbed. And, all he cared about was the future. The past held no meaning to him. And he was convinced that whatever Teemo was talking about, it had nothing to do with him. The Scout had gone mad, crazy after coming face to face with a giant asteroid. Surely that was it, and now he was mistaking him for someone else entirely. Most likely because of his lack of a hat, revealing his long thin ears. That was the only thing that was different about him, his lack of his usual mage hat and his ears, while everything else remained the same, save for his dimmed eyes. Teemo had glanced away at one point, though Veigar kept his eyes on him, unaware of the Scout's mental battles of whether or not he should kill him. Certainly Veigar didn't see a reason for him not to try. There was nothing to hold him back from shooting him up with poison. And yet, instead of doing this, he opted for slinging Veigar over his shoulder, gaining a slightly startled “H-Hey!” in response. The bufferfly feeling seemed to magnify with the action, and his body reacted accordingly, acting as though a poison was coursing through his veins along with his stray magics. Luckily he was disoriented, mind too hazy to register this, but only focusing on kicking and squirming about in Teemo's grasp. “Let go of me you stupid Badger, let go! Erk!” he continued to resist for awhile, but his energy was quick to leave. As his vision suddenly faded to black, his body became limp, his shaken, quick breathes breathing heavily against the other's back. Now, Veigar himself wasn't all that heavy. He was pretty damn light actually, under what was considered to be the norm for a yordle of his age. And, like Teemo, was also considered to be a bit smaller, about the exact same height as the other. Still, mounted with his robes, armor and metal gauntlet, it certainly added a bit extra weight, but nothing Teemo couldn't handle. Especially now that Veigar was no longer jostling around.

By the time his vision had returned, he was sitting down, back leaned up against a tree in some nice shade. His eyes welcomed the light layer of darkness, no longer harshly squinting at the world, but a tad more relaxed. The dark mage could only hear his breathing now, looking around through hazy eyes to spot the blob he assumed was Teemo slowly making his way back to him. Instead of wondering why Teemo hadn't tried to kill him yet, his mind wandered to the Scout's earlier words about the Tipped Seahorse. His words brought a sense of familiarity to them, and his mind's curiosity wanted to figure out why this was. His deep subconscious continued it's search, using the clues of the Tipped Seahorse and merchant keywords. But nothing seemed to strike. Whatever had set off this feel of familiar was hidden deep in the recesses of his mind. It would be difficult to fish it out. In the mean time, the dark mage seemed to be in another world, dealing with the pains of his magic overuse. The think speckled veil of purple still clung to his form, shrunken considerably from when he first landed, but still there nonetheless. His mage staff, still laying near where his flying bat was, still sizzled and sparked. His gauntlet hand would give a twitch every now and then, along with one of his long thin ears. Veigar's head had drooped, mimicking his ears as his dimmed eyes stared down at his legs. Not that he could see much through his hazed vision, nor was even paying attention. It took several moments for Veigar to even realize that his environment had become slightly darker, feeling a familiar weight now on his head. Although his head remained down, he could tell that his mage hat had returned to him. Surely it was Teemo's doing, for whatever reason. He didn't have the energy to question the other's actions.

There was a shuffle in front of him, too close, a closeness Veigar would surely not agree with. Everything seemed to happen in parts as he had shifted from unconscious to conscious. Moments before he was kicking a stubborn bat off of him. Then he was being held up the collar of his robes by Teemo. And now he was sitting against a tree. His mind just couldn't follow along very well, his body too busy trying to deal with the lingering magics being absorbed. It hurt like hell, masking whatever pain his beaten body was feeling. If something were to be broken, he certainly hadn't felt it. The pain of his magic was far greater, even masking the earlier dose of butterflies, hence why he failed to register it in his mind. His body felt it, but he didn't notice at all. It hurt too god damn much. He just needed rest was all, plenty of rest. But what the heck was Teemo up to? “I'm going to check to see if anything's broken. Just say something if it hurts where I'm squeezing.” the other said, though Veigar's mind was far too gone for it to register. All that he could hear was his shaky, quick breaths, solely concentrating on that and that alone. Everything else around him was shrouded in a blur. He knew Teemo was there, though. He knew, doing god knows what to him now. Probably preparing an intravenous of poison specially made for him in an attempt to silence him forever. Well, so long as he got to sleep, it wouldn't be that bad, right? Logic didn't really seem to fit with Veigar's disoriented state. He had somewhat of a hold on reality, only for his protection in case Teemo really was trying to kill him.

But Veigar was suddenly wrenched out of his disoriented state as a much stronger wave of butterflies broke through the pain of his magic, startling him enough for his head to suddenly perk up. “Release me!” he shouted, jerking his arm away from the other as his dimmed eyes glared at the Scout. It was nearly impossible for his mind to fish out a memory so deep in the recesses in his mind. However, this strong burst of feeling provided a jolt. And, somehow, it found it. Veigar's dimmed eyes widened slightly as his breathe caught in his throat, suddenly slapped in the face with a memory featuring the one he was looking at.

Veigar stomped his foot. “You're cheating!” This had been their third round of darts. There were a few darts edging the corners of the circular board, along with a few way off in the distance. And in the middle of the target were three perfectly placed shots, stuck perfectly together in the middle of the small red dot. This board was mounted up outside on one of the walls. It used to be inside, however, Veigar's aiming was.. pretty bad, and after darting a few of the shipmates, they decided it was better if they took the game outside. It was night time, gray clouds threatening from above, though they knew they wouldn't be facing a storm. The waters were a bit rough below them, choppy as ever reflecting the dreary skies. But the only thing that mattered was the wind, seeing as they were up in the air. The wind wasn't calm, but, it wasn't crazy either. The occasional strong wind would past, causing their sails to furl, but nothing major.

His opponent, a non-regular aboard their ship, laughed at the accusation. “I am not!” His laughter seemed to wane after a bit, suddenly recalling his situation as he fumbled around with a dart in his hand. “Still.. my aim is the only thing I got going for me.. I can't even properly load a canon.”

The sullen look on the other's face didn't sit right with the merchant. Even though he was known to be rather cruel, he did care about others, even if it didn't seem like it. He was just.. a bit rough around the edges, y'know? He wasn't like the other yordles, always smiling with their chipper can do attitudes. And, unlike them, he didn't wish to remain in the bubble of Bandle City for all his life. He craved for the world outside of Bandle. And the yordles that did leave Bandle mostly had some sort of consequence for their actions.. but he didn't care. He had all of Valoran to explore, and he would do so.. smuggling goods here and there along the way to make a hefty profit, heh.

“Are you stupid?” he finally said, gaining the other's attention. But the merchant's gaze was in the distance, as though the horizon was suddenly important. “Aiming isn't just for winning a game of darts.. sure, you may not have the strength of a Megling Gunner, but you have the accuracy of a Scout. Why don't you become one of those?” he asked, turning his gaze onto the other. “A Scout of the Mothership?”

The furry yordle blinked, the merchant's words having taken him aback somewhat. “A..scout?” He hadn't even considered this, being that his whole family had been enlisted as part of the Megling Gunners, the legendary tier of their military. And that's where it all began.

The flashback of memory was quick, and now, staring at Teemo, there was no doubting that that furry yordle back on that ship was him. They were identical. “Stowaway..” he said breathlessly, his tone disbelieving as he slipped out the word. He couldn't stop staring at the furry yordle, his widened, dimmed eyes having a hard time believing that the stowaway from the past was the guy sitting right in front of him. But they were one and the same. “Your.. the.. brat..?” All this time.. no wonder why Teemo had been so upset upon seeing him without his hat on, revealing the merchant he knew from long ago. So he hadn't forgot about that night, huh? Whereas Veigar had, Teemo remembered it quite vividly, as though it were only yesterday. Veigar slowly turned, then, his head dropping down as the rim of his had shielded away his dimmed eyes. He was quiet for a moment. Teemo was the stowaway. The one who had snuck onto their merchant ship, smuggling various goods in an attempt to run away from his homeland. His fellow merchants were ready to pounce on the guy, to end his life here and there, but he had stopped them. Had vouched for Teemo, not wanting any unnecessary bloodshed. He didn't seem like he was trying to meddle with their affairs.. and he turned out to be a pretty good guy. Instead of recoiling away from the unusual looking yordle, he, instead, played games with him. They talked. And suddenly they were having a back and forth like brothers. Not many would engage in this sort of conversation with him, mostly due to the fact that he was.. well.. pretty unique looking. Compared to most yordles, he stuck out like a sore thumb. He had a very thin layer of blackened fur, covering his entire body, along with a pair of long thin ears that mostly stood straight up. But they were expressive at times, drooping slightly whenever he was upset about something, or if he were hurt. That and his eyes were the only two things that showed any expression in any form, as it was almost impossible to see his mouth. His eyes were the main reason for most other's hesitance around him. They were eerie, though nothing like his eyes today, he used to in fact have pupils. They also didn't glow yellow as they did now, but still, they seemed to rest in a somewhat glared state. Nothing about him looked friendly, and yordles seemed to distance themselves away from him, especially with his claim of wanting to see the world outside of Bandle. That was also peculiar.

But Teemo didn't care about his looks. He talked to him like he were any other yordle, and that was rare. They made a connection that night. And, now that Veigar recalled that stowaway, he found that deep down.. he was glad. He was glad that the stowaway had found a place for him. He hadn't died, nor was he running from Bandle City any longer. Now, he was one of the City's heroes! A grand achievement, considering where Teemo started off from. He went from running away from the City to a proud Scout of the Mothership, praised by it's citizens. And suddenly, the dark mage started to laugh. It was slow at first, but then he bursted into a fit of laughter, his head tilting back as the shrill laugh escaped him. There was the mix of groans and noises of pain thrown in there, but he continued on laughing regardless of the agony it caused. “So you really did become a Scout, huh!? Because of my advice, you.. Oh, the IRONY! AHAHAHA!” The image of stowaway Teemo fresh in his mind, he couldn't help it! It was crazy how he had forgotten about that, especially considering the fact that he saw the yordle practically weekly. But even that wasn't enough to wrench the memory from where it was placed, deep in the recesses of his mind. Where, his time in prison had shoved everything else. It was a miracle his mind had managed to fish out the memory, though it was incredibly lucky. Even though Veigar wouldn't have cared even if he never recalled the memory.. as it didn't change a single thing..




」

[magefeathers]

Teemo

The Swift Scout

"Captain Teemo, on duty!

As with many of the things Veigar said to him, his accusations of Teemo being delusional and making demands of the scout to release him now were mostly ignored. Why was he still trying to save Veigar even though he had just outright said that he didn't remember who Teemo was, that the scout held no familiarity to the mage outside of their scuffles. Maybe it was because he didn't entirely believe Veigar, maybe it was wanting to repay a past debt. Whatever excuse Teemo went with, he seemed intent on caring for his charge whether or not Veigar liked it.

"RELEASE ME!" Veigar snarled rather suddenly, tearing his arm away from the scout with surprising strength. Maker, he was more difficult than trying to examine a bug bear that had been caught in a hunter's trap! However, his breath hitched and his eyes widened, suddenly becoming still. Teemo's own eyes widened in surprise, grabbing Veigar's wrist again with his own bare hand. Yeah, there was still a pulse. The scout gave a somewhat relieved exhale, taking advantage of this few moments of stillness to check his shoulders for any breaks or dislocations. Teemo's attention was drawn once again when Veigar spoke a single word, a word that let the scout he wasn't wrong in his accusations of who the mage was.

"Stowaway..." Veigar managed to say, his breathing still sounding rather forced. Teemo withdrew from Veigar as he looked down, staying quiet. "You're....the brat?"

"Hey!" Teemo said with a small huff. He was much more naive, not quite as versed on the ways of the world back then, so the title of 'brat' might have slipped in a couple times in their conversation, and appropriately so. What Veigar did next surprised Teemo; he began to laugh. It wasn't his normal taunting, mocking laugh, but sounded as though he had heard a funny joke; coughs, groans and obvious sounds of pain were mixed in.

"So you really did become a Scout, huh!? Because of my advice, you.. Oh, the IRONY! AHAHAHA!" Veigar finally managed between his shrill bouts of laughter, bringing up something that Teemo hadn't mentioned. He did remember! Suddenly, the night crawlers that had been writhing about in his insides ceased, a wave of joy passing him over, snapping him back out of the militaristic haze that he had found himself in. The change, his joy was so sudden, that just for a moment, Teemo seemed to forget all about who the ex-merchant was, here and now.

"You do remember!" Teemo said with laugh, hugging Veigar in spite of himself, in spite of the mage's aching condition. The spurt of emotion was short lived, his mind catching up with exactly what he was doing in his elation. Hugging Veigar. His arch-enemy, the vicious villain himself. Teemo pulled back, clearing his throat as he tried to get his relief and joy back on a mental leash. "Ah, forgot you were hurt. Sor---ah, just hang tight while I finish checking your arms. And try to relax, hm? You sound like hell."

'Cut it out.'

'Sorry? I....I don't know what you're talking about.'

'THAT.'

Teemo looked absolutely confused by what the merchant was telling him to cut out. In Bandle City, the Megling Commando had adopted the mindset that it was better to apologize too much than not enough, that carpet bomb rule seeming to get him much further than his own, more natural predisposition to challenge others. 'Look, I'm not saying anything except /sorry/!'

'EXACTLY.' Veigar groaned, shaking his head. 'You know what 'sorry' is?'

'....an adjective?'

'No, it means you're admitting you're wrong! Are you wrong?'

'What? No!'

'Then stop saying it!'

After a whole night of getting scolded for using the word, it was hard to start using it again in Bandle without imagining the merchant's shrill apprehensions. To this day, Teemo still tried to avoid using it as much as possible, especially when his missions and such were involved. Apologizing, saying he was sorry for any of that would be admitting that the lives weighed on his mind. Which, they didn't. At least not that Teemo was consciously aware of. It seemed he was going to continue poking and prodding the mage in spite of his resistance (which seemed much more weakened than normal), pushing up the sleeve of Veigar's right arm and staring a moment. He didn't have to apply any pressure to see the raised area of his skin, the swelling, an indication of a break. He wasn't a medic, but could at least set a bone until he got proper medical attention. ....well, if there WAS a doctor on Valoran that would see him.

"It looks like you broke your arm," Teemo reported, starting to unpack a couple things from his medical kit. He'd need a straight branch, something to hold the bone in place while it healed, already starting to look about for an appropriate piece of wood to fashion the makeshift splint.

"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«&&&&&&&&
-exhausted / amused / putoff -&&&&&&&&&&&&&










omgomgomgomgomgomgzz













「
Veigar couldn't help but laugh at the whole situation. So, the one he had been fighting all this time turned out to be that brat stowaway from back then. He had changed since back then, though his appearance remained practically the same. To make worse, Teemo used darts as his weapons, relating to the darts game they were playing when they first met. Yes, he was starting to remember little snippets of that night on the Tipped Seahorse. They had spent quite some time together on their journey towards Piltover. Their back and forths became a routine for them, sneakily providing one another with advice and comforts. By the time they reached Piltover, they had become almost like brothers. The furry yordle made a promise that he would see him again, and with a wave, Veigar smirked. He didn't know if he really would ever see the other again, as he traveled so much, but there was a chance. At least, until he was arrested. He had no idea of what hell he was about to be put through.. Teemo had been the final shine of light he would see for a very, very long time.

“You do remember!” the Scout said with a laugh, a tone of happiness and excitement in his voice. A tone that Veigar was incredibly unfamiliar with, especially with it being directed at him of all people. This utter joy broke Veigar out of his thoughts, a pair of furry arms suddenly hugging around him. His dimmed eyes widened at the sudden action, and a strong pulsation of the strange butterfly feeling ran through his body. It was a hard, intense pulsation, one that could most likely be felt by Teemo as it radiated from the dark mage's core. “Erk!” the sound of pain escaped him, his head dropping. Luckily the other had quickly removed himself off of him, and the strong butterfly feeling disappeared instantly. That, in combination of his stray magics still seeping into his skin, hurt like hell, not to mention the pressure Teemo's body put on his bruised body. How the heck was he still even conscious? Well, he's been through worse, unfortunately. And he'd be damned if he let himself fall unconscious in front of this Badger. Still, it was becoming a tad harder to do so. Luckily his vision wasn't betraying him very often. “Ah, forgot you were hurt. Sor-- ah, just hang tight while I finish checking your arms. And try to relax, hm? You sound like hell.”

All Veigar could do at the moment was focus on his own breathing, which was loud, labored, and shaky. He watched the Badger through the corners of his dimmed eyes, his head still down. He was starting to realize just what this information meant to Teemo, that he had finally found the 'merchant' from long ago. And despite it being Veigar, it made him happy. And that certainly wasn't a reaction he liked from Teemo, or from anyone really. The joy which seemed to radiate off of the Badger put a bad taste in his mouth, especially considering that he had been the one to cause it. Each time Teemo touched him, his body would flinch away instinctively. Sometimes he'd realize the other was touching him and move on his own, making Teemo's task of examining him incredibly hard. Luckily for him, it could have been much worse. If he weren't so disoriented, he'd make sure the other wouldn't touch him. Yet his mind would simply fall into a haze, and he wouldn't even realize Teemo's touches, or even the feeling of butterflies it brought with it. But after that hug, combined with these minor touches here and there, he had started to feel sick. His stomach knotted up, and suddenly he was hit with nausea. Now he had to focus on his breathing and make sure he didn't puke all over the place, shoving down the bile that threatened to escape his throat.

“It looks like you broke your arm,” the Badger said, and Veigar watched him wearily from under the brim of his hat. He started unpacking some things from his backpack, oh so chipper and dandy, as though this were normal. As if he had forgotten the fact that this was Veigar, the Tiny Master of Evil. The one that has attacked Bandle City multiple times. The one that terrorizes his citizens, that torments and tortures everyone almost weekly. The one that had admitted to keeping Teemo alive merely because he amused him. And yet he seemed to forget all this upon seeing who Veigar looked like underneath his giant mage hat, two slim long ears giving away his identity of his past self. The merchant. Teemo was acting like he were picking up where they left off. But that wasn't right. He couldn't just ignore everything he has done until now. That would be foolish. It just couldn't be done, no matter how hard Teemo tried. The merchant was gone. He died years ago. All that remained was the shell of a merchant, filled with evil and rage and destruction. That's all he was now, and nothing was going to change that. Not now, not ever.

“Badger.” he called, his voice holding a great intensity to it. His eyes remained shielded from sight by the brim of his hat, only proving to increase the tension. Deep down, Teemo must have known what was going to happen. He must have, knowing that his dear merchant pal was the Tiny Master of Evil, there was no way he could get around this. No way he could just simply forget all the things Veigar has done and pick up where they left off.

“I have no idea why I suddenly recalled that night on the Tipped Seahorse.. heh, out of all the memories I could have remembered from back then..” he paused, finding it rather funny that, out of all the memories of his time prior to being in jail, he had recalled the night he met Teemo. “It's amusing, I must admit. Amusing that I had been the one to set you on the path to becoming the annoying Hero of Bandle City you are today.” Veigar lifted his head, then, his dimmed eyes locking on to the other's. “But that's all it is. Amusing. This changes nothing, badger. I'm still Veigar, the Tiny Master of Evil. The Villain of Bandle City. The one you have sworn to kill.” He blinked, pausing to allow himself to catch his breathe as well as allow what he was saying to sink in. “The merchant you remember..” yet another pause, his dimmed eyes narrowing at Teemo. “..is dead.”


」

[magefeathers]

Teemo

The Swift Scout

"Captain Teemo, on duty!

As with most of Teemo's emotional responses, they were quickly gathered and sorted into how they fit into something that most people referred to as 'reality'. They had been riled up already by the whole 'asteroid coming to destroy your city, look out', but were so shaken up, turned around, spun about and flipped upside down several times over the past little while of sitting with the mage that he only had very few moments to really sort things out. He was trying almost desperately to hold onto the quickly fading burst of joy before reality came sauntering back in. Teemo really didn't know how most other yordles did it, completely happy with their naivety and hopeless obliviousness to the sort of things outside of their city that hurt, that killed, that destroyed....even if Veigar did make it a point to remind everyone once in awhile.

"Badger," Veigar said, his voice heavy and serious. Every once in awhile, Teemo just wished reality would just take a break. That just for a moment he didn't have to be the one constantly facing reality on everyone else's behalf because they were too weak to deal with it, as sour of a thought that was. That, just for once, he could simply sit there with a stupid grin on his face without worrying about what camp he had to run down, how he was going to protect everyone else, what lives he would snuff so everyone else could be happy. “I have no idea why I suddenly recalled that night on the Tipped Seahorse.. heh, out of all the memories I could have remembered from back then..It's amusing, I must admit. Amusing that I had been the one to set you on the path to becoming the annoying Hero of Bandle City you are today.”

Teemo's prolonged solo trip away from other yordles reminded him that he was still very dependent on the company of his own kind, always enjoying the feeling of closeness and content when with other yordles. But there was always something that was weighing on his mind, something else that he was thinking of that he could never truly /relish/ in their company. As a youngster, his mind was always focused on watching his tongue, not playing as rough as he'd like and fitting into what everyone else wanted to really be happy. As a teenager, a young recruit in the Commandos, his mind was focused on continuing the familial tradition, in spite of other early aspirations of being an engineer or inventor, hence his reasons for leaving the military to go to Piltover. As a scout, when he finally found his niche, finally found something that came as naturally as a bird taking to the air, his mind was focused on the whispers, the rumors. 'Maker, you'd think he's a robot the way he concentrates.' 'I don't know what it is, but that look on his face. Gives me the creeps.' He continued to march on through the whispers, the comments and the stares, becoming a hero. Even as a hero, /especially/ as a hero placed upon a pedestal, the scout's mind was still focused on making everyone else happy while he settled for contentment. Little habits and behaviors he kept to himself were an indication of the stress of it all slowly eating away at him from the inside out; his insomnia, his almost obsessive habit of making things, fixing things, fiddling or tapping things. Being on the hunt, on the field was really the only time he could relax, because there was nothing else on his mind. He could sit still because there was no pressure to make anyone else happy, there was no emotion, no sorrow, no anxiety, no nothing. Just blissful numbness.

"“But that's all it is. Amusing. This changes nothing, badger. I'm still Veigar, the Tiny Master of Evil. The Villain of Bandle City. The one you have sworn to kill.”

Even the scout's best friend, the Megling Gunner, had a certain amount of hesitance to it, the yordle way of tip toeing around problems and hoping they'd go away happening more than he'd like with Tristana. Teemo trusted her more than anyone in the entire world, and yet, he still found himself watching what he said, guarding his reactions and emotions for her benefit. Because he didn't want to scare her off, even though she already accepted him for all he was and all he became in the face of danger.

“The merchant you remember..” Veigar continued, nearly ramming reality down the scout's gullet with the weight of his words. Any shred of joy that Teemo had felt was being quickly torn from his grasp, the mage narrowing his eyes. "....is dead."

Those words cut much deeper than any blade forged in Demacia, as though a cruel Fate had whispered the most efficient way to tear any hope the scout had grasped onto into Veigar's pointed ears. Veigar....the merchant...it was one of the very few times that Teemo's mind wasn't bogged down by 'goodness, I shouldn't say that' or 'oh gods, that's mean, don't say that!', that he was truly, naturally /happy/ in an interaction, both emotionally and mentally. It was rather cruel, really, but Teemo realized that he should be accustomed to it by now, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"I'll be right back." Teemo sighed, leaving the mage for a few moments while he went to gather things to fashion a splint. Several minutes passed before Teemo returned, going to take his seat and busy his hands once more. There was no sense in denying any of this, that once they parted ways things would go back to the way they were before. He took hold of Veigar's arm, growing concerned about his increasingly raspy and labored breathing, hoping that it was just the shock of having a bone broken. Teemo took some time to respond to Veigar's statement, working in silence lining up the bone, pinching it and setting it in a splint, a familiar look of concentration coming across his features. After it was all set and done, Teemo finally decided to address the elephant in the room, somewhat speaking his thoughts out loud for his own benefit.

"...I know. But---" Teemo said, considering his words. A familiar, cool, numbness now muted any warmth that would have been felt while handling the mage's limbs, his mind finally overwhelmed from the number and strength of the emotions he was feeling before, trying to sweep them under the rug as was best possible. "I owe you my life for that day, and right now that's a debt I plan on repaying. Even if it was your own damned fault for trying to summon a meteor to destroy Bandle."

Teemo was still convinced that Veigar had been the reason the meteor was on a collision course with their home, and that a secretive summoner had been the reason his plans were foiled.

"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«&&&&&&&&
-exhausted / peeved -&&&&&&&&&&&&&










omgomgomgomgomgomgzz













「
Watching the other yordle, so happy, so joyful in that moment wasn't just rare for Veigar to see. This genuine feeling of joy was rare for others to see, too. In that moment, he looked like one of the civilians of Bandle City, going about their day without a care in the world. And with each word the dark mage spoke, this genuine feeling of joy started to crumble, ripping small tiny pieces of it. Reality was being shoved into Teemo's face, whether he liked it or not. The dark mage had ruthlessly ripped the furry yordle out of a fantasy, a fantasy which consisted in forgetting the fact that he was evil. That, now that Teemo knew he was the merchant from the past, that things would go back to the way it was. They would pick up where they left off, and none of the incredibly horrifying things Veigar did would be brought up again. But that was foolish to think that they could possibly do that, and no matter how badly Teemo may have wanted it, it was never going to happen. Like he had said, the merchant he knew long ago had died. As to how he died, well, the Scout wouldn't know that. And Veigar had no plans on telling him either, how a simple yordle merchant became this evil, shadowy creature that plagued Valoran today. He already had trouble thinking of the process that eventually drove him mad, he certainly wasn't going to open his mouth and speak freely of it. No. All Teemo needed to know was that the merchant was long gone, and he was never coming back.

In a way, it was like telling Teemo that Santa wasn't real. He didn't exist. Well, the merchant certainly existed once upon a time, but not anymore. Not after what he's been through. The dark mage merely stared at the other with narrowed, dimmed eyes, his labored breathing the only sounds between the two. He monitored the other's reactions, not quite sure how he was going to respond with the harsh reality he threw at him. Would he crack? Would he cry? Or would he attack? It was all up in the air, really. He had no idea what Teemo was going to do, continuing this silence. He said what he needed to say. He wasn't going to let Teemo continue believing that they could somehow resurrect their past and be happy, oh god know. Not only had he lacked the memories to do such a thing, but he also didn't want to give Teemo a reason to be happy. Then there would be no more battles between them, and Veigar wasn't going to let that happen. He quite enjoyed their epic battles in Bandle City, and he was going to continue that trend. His attacks on Bandle would continue, just like always. Like he said, nothing would change.

“I'll be right back.” he said, getting up and leaving the mage's side. Veigar blinked after him, watching his back before he vanished into the forest. He thought he might be going to retrieve his blow gun, but actually passed it up along the way. He still didn't have the intention of killing him, here and now, it seemed. The Scout had disappeared for a few minutes, and he was beginning to wonder if he was actually going to come back. Not that he wanted him to come back or anything, but still, he didn't think Teemo would just get up and leave. Not after what he told him. The merchant you remember is dead. The absence of the Scout allowed him some time to rest, though, his mind drifting between states of consciousness. His head would bob every now and again, desperately trying to keep himself awake. Being so close to the city he terrorized practically every week, it probably wasn't a good idea to let himself fall asleep. And sure enough, there he was again, appearing as a beige blob heading back to his side. And in his hands he held a makeshift splint, undoubtedly for his broken arm. The dark mage scoffed at this as Teemo persisted on aiding him, his eyes rolling as he turned his head to the side. God damnit. Had he heard a word he just said? Or did he simply choose to ignore it in an attempt to live out a lie? To continue a farce fantasy that Veigar, the merchant, was all well and good, and that none of the bad things he's done ever happened.

Teemo took a hold of his arm again, and the dark mage quickly jerked it away -- though not succeeding as a sharp pain caused him to stop his movements. He turned his head away from the Scout, his troubled eyes closed as he continued taking shaky, labored breathes. There wasn't any more resisting from the mage, considering he was having a tough time keeping conscious as it was. He wasn't even sure if Teemo was still touching him, but he was, working on his arm. His body gave a sharp flinch as the other lined up his bone, a small snap coming from his arm. God he felt sick. Sick not just from the incredible pain he was dealing with, but also from the butterfly feeling he was getting in his chest. Maybe if Teemo changed his mind, he'd let the Scout go ahead and kill him. At least then he could sleep. He wouldn't, but still. He wished he were in the Shadow Isles right now, in his grave, relishing the darkness as it sped up his recovery. The two sat in silence, except for Veigar's breathing, the dark mage focusing on keeping himself conscious while the other focused on mending his broken arm. “...I know. But--” this gained the mage's attention, causing him to look over at the other in the corners of his dimmed eyes. He lacked that look of happiness from earlier, replaced with the familiar cold, militaristic expression he was used to seeing. This told him that Teemo wasn't going to try and believe in a false fantasy at least. He understood fully well that Veigar wasn't the same yordle he met long ago.

“I owe you my life for that day, and right now that's a debt I plan on repaying. Even if it was your own damned fault for trying to summon a meteor to destroy Bandle.” at this, a chuckle escaped him, a small, brief smirk placing itself on his face. It was good to hear that Teemo was only helping him out for now, intent on only 'repaying the favor' of long ago. After this, things would return to the way they were. Veigar had gotten a 'get out of jail free card' in away, sparing him from Teemo attacks. Only because of what happened that night on the airship. He kept his fellow smugglers from killing the naive yordle, and Teemo intended on repaying him for that deed. Not that Veigar remembered much of that night, nor would he ever spare anyone's life - not anymore at least. Still, that is what his past self had done, and so, Teemo acted. Then came the second pair of good news, which was that Teemo believed that he had been the cause of the asteroid. That's well good and all, but this also told Veigar that Bandle hadn't detected such a monstrosity coming. Which meant.. someone had conjured up that asteroid to erase Bandle City from the map. And that was unsettling. Someone certainly required quite a bit of power to summon such a thing to come crashing down upon the Earth. And for some reason, they chose to attack Bandle City out of all places. His eyes narrowed slightly at this. There was a strong mage somewhere out there, besides himself, who for some reason wanted Bandle gone. That didn't sit well with the dark mage, not at all. Who dared to attack his City? His toys? Whoever it was, he planned on making sure they got the message. He would find them, and then he would destroy everything they held dear! No one messes with Veigar's property!

The dark mage, however weakly, suddenly stood himself up. His world spun many times, wobbling in his stance, having to re-foot himself in order to prevent himself from toppling over. He was slightly hunched, as though his large mage hat suddenly weight two hundred pounds. Was Teemo done splinting up his broken arm? He wasn't even sure. But once the thought of another mage attempting to destroy Bandle popped up, everything was pushed aside. He had to find this guy, whoever it was, and give a little pay back to what he did. He dares to threaten his City of toys.. he shall PAY! A very troublesome task laid ahead of him. Finding this mage was most likely not going to be easy, but, he had to try. Sure he was beaten up and bruised all over, but unbeknownst to the civilians of Bandle, and even Teemo, there was a danger lurking - a danger besides Veigar, the one responsible for this asteroid. And he was sure as hell going to give this other mage a good beating after what he made him do, exceeding his power limits and now having to deal with all this god damn pain. GOD, whoever this guy was was going to get it!

The dark mage took another breathe, once again wobbling to the side before re-footing himself before taking a step forwards. Despite his beaten condition, along with the ominous flowing veil of magics clinging to his form, he pushed himself. Sort of like he were used to this sort of thing, that his body in of itself was something in his way, hindering him, an annoyance. The dark mage started to walk over, back out into the sunlight, making his way across the patch of grass toward his sleeping transport. With every inch of his body screaming at him, he kept on walking, occasionally a small sound of pain escaping him as he went. Then, went he finally reached his bat, he gave it an annoyed glare. “Hey! WAKE UP!” he yelled, giving it a firm kick in the side. It let out a low screech in response, though still didn't wake from it's slumber. Veigar growled, “Wake up I said, WAKE UP! Haa.. Stupid! ...” He wobbled on his feet, and his vision began to darken. Mentally, he cursed at himself at his weakness, pausing in his actions to take a breathe. He was on the verge of blacking out, dangerously veering close to collapsing on the spot. But he wouldn't allow his body to shut down on him, too stubborn. His poor body just wanted to recuperate, but Veigar wasn't letting it. They had a rough trip ahead of them first.


」

[magefeathers]

Teemo

The Swift Scout

"Captain Teemo, on duty!

Teemo had turned away for just a moment to get his canteen out of his backpack, following all the same procedures he would in assisting another scout or soldier with a wound; take care of bodily injuries first, make sure they're hydrated and keep the perimeter safe while they rested. But the scout nearly dropped the water filled canteen seeing Veigar standing, WALKING....what was he thinking?!

"What part of sit down and relax isn't getting through that thick skull of yours!" Teemo said, more aggravated that he had managed to hold Veigar's arm steady long enough to set it and here he was trying to walk off as though he were alright. The mage's dimmed eyes, his bobbing, swaying and squinting were all indications of exhaustion, possible internal injuries, concussion----the list went on. And here he was, still trying to make a break for it. The mage would just get up, pull away and fidget, driven forward by his own stubborn will.

"“Hey! WAKE UP! Wake up I said, WAKE UP! Haa.. Stupid! ...” Veigar said, kicking the slumbering plague bat awake. He was seriously planning on riding in his condition? Maker, the mage was dumber than Teemo gave him credit for. He could let Veigar go and kill himself of his own devices, but that didn't sit well with the scout. Even if Veigar wanted to push himself beyond his limits, that was all fine and dandy, but not after Teemo tried everything in his power to help the mage recooperate, just this once. After all, it's hardly repaying a life debt if the person you owe your life to falls off a plague bat and dies. Even after his harsh shove of reality into Teemo's face, the scout still didn't want to see Veigar die....at least not by falling off of a plague bat. The scout ran to his bag, his mind plotting a second option. He could knock the mage out, force him to sit still and rest for just a small amount of time. Teemo grabbed up his normal darts, scooping up his blow gun and the bottle of antidote out of his med kit. A poke with a dart and Veigar would go out like a light in his weakened condition, but Teemo would have to give him the antidote within a few seconds to make sure it didn't kill him. It was a risk, but Teemo's logical interpretation of the whole thing was that it would be a win-win, whatever the outcome.

With Veigar slipping in and out of consciousness, it wasn't all that hard to get in close proximity without being noticed, Teemo taking a breath and shooting the dart into Veigar's left arm. When the mage drooped, the scout immediately removed the dart and uncapped the antidote, holding Veigar's nose as he poured some of it in his mouth and closed it, hoping enough of the fluid made its way into his bloodstream to stop the poison from shutting down his heart. But....that was a risk Teemo was going to take. A few moments passed and his raspy breathing continued. Alright, so the scout hadn't killed him. Now that Veigar was forced into relaxing, it seemed all there was to do was keep watch until he roused again. Teemo once again dragged the mage back into the shaded clearing and laid him down, the scout climbing up into a tree to keep a proper watch. Well, that was one way to get the Tiny Master of Evil to settle himself down. Teemo took a breath, looking down at where Veigar was conked out. The scout had had enough with his emotions, his feelings for today, really wishing they would stop making him almost dizzy like this. Veigar was right, they were enemies now, pitted against one another regardless of what had happened that night. Still, there was still a small part of him, buried under cold numbness at the moment, that still clung to a glimmer of hope. A very small hope that the merchant he had grown attached to in that short amount of time was still buried in there somewhere, hidden under all the armor, magic and....well, evil.

Whenever Veigar woke, Teemo had nothing more to say to the mage, humming a little tune to himself as he busied his bare hands, occasionally climbing down from the tree to gather strands of grass, tearing them apart and re-twisting them together to fashion a sweet smelling, green rope. Teemo wouldn't be using it any time soon, but at least it was something to keep himself busy.

"That's gotta sting."

[magefeathers]

Ozma

The Void Magician

'Ⓨou call that little trick magic?'

╔══════════════╗

What a wonderful show it turned out to be, the dark magician observing everything unfurl from a rocky out crop. Much like the smaller mage, Ozma had grown accustomed to the darkness provided by the Shadow Isles, squinting a bit in the late afternoon sun despite the cloud cover. A purple bowl cupped over the city, effectively slowing down the asteroid, but wouldn't be enough to repel it. That screech, that discharge of energy. Ozma's feathers prickled, almost wanting to fly in to take a closer look. But the energy was too chaotic, still too much for the little mage to handle effectively. A bit of a pity, but whatever Veigar had managed to do was enough to send Ozma's asteroid back into space. Ozma couldn't help but push his hat up over his grey skinned brow a bit in order to get a clear view of what was going on in the sky. It seemed a piece of the space rock had broken off and struck down the dark mage, Ozma tensing up a bit. Wonderful, as soon as a prospective student passed a test, he was blind sided by a part of said test. Down, down, down they went, Ozma not seeming too concerned in following Veigar. He would reveal himself soon enough, but not here. Not now.

"You had better survive," Ozma harrumphed, preparing a Teleport spell to go back to his home on the Shadow Isles. "I've sunk too much time and effort into this for you to die to a bloody /rock/."

A small flash, a waver of magic and the dark magician appeared outside of his humble abode, seven sets of four eyed ravens opening and staring at their master. There were only a few tired 'caws' and clucks, Ozma staring up at the lazy lot of birds.

"Enjoy your rest now. I'm going to be getting things rolling much sooner than expected," Ozma said for his own benefit, stretching his wings and pulling his hat back down, deciding to pay the grave yard a visit. It was a frequent haunt of the little mage while he was on the Shadow Isles and would no doubt be the first place that he returned to after such a close brush with death. With his staff in hand, Ozma strolled over to an overhanging rock and crouched, leaping of the stone and into glorious flight, another one of the little things that he still enjoyed very much to this day. Sure, he may have terribly disfigured his face and body beyond human recognition, but by the gods it was worth it. He refused to use a Teleport spell when traveling from place to place on the Shadow Isles, the confident and powerful beating of his appendages was so much more satisfying. Arching his shoulders and twisting his body, Ozma came in for a landing at the gates of the grave yard that Yorrick tended, helping the souls of the dead 'ascend' the tiers of death. The warlock wasn't a frequent visitor, but one that Yorick recognized, having no opinion on the feathered wizard either way. So long as he didn't destroy anything, who was he to stop Ozma from paying his respects?

"Just the corpse I was looking for." Ozma said, following the sound of digging to the Gravedigger himself. Yorick only looked up momentarily before returning to the task at hand. Ozma frowned a bit, but was in a good enough of a mood to let it slide. "Tell me Mori, I know a mage by the name Veigar. Is there a particular grave that he likes to rest in?"

"....ah, the grave sleeper," Yorick finally said, stopping his digging for only the few seconds it took him to think of who Veigar was. He gave a slow nod, pointing a decrepate finger in the direction of the grave he had made especially for the ornery mage. "I have just dug one especially for him. ....he's not there though, but you can still pay your respects."

"Indeed I will, thank you." Ozma replied with a respectful nod. There was quite a bit of truth in the old adage 'it is better to be feared than loved', but the warlock wasn't in a mood to stir up any more trouble than needed. To be feared, people needed to know who you were, what you were capable of. Ozma found it much more effective to work in the shadows, affecting events without being directly involved. It was always thrilling, seeing how one little twist of a person could lead to conflict, wars, decimation---it was slow in building, but maker was it worth it in the end. Finding a small assortment of tools near a shed, Ozma picked up a shovel to begin his work while awaiting the mage's return 'home'. It seemed Yorick hadn't had a chance to move the pile of dirt away from Veigar's grave, the feathered wizard beginning to refill his precious hole shovel by shovel. Sure, he could have used magic to do the job, but Ozma needed something to fill his time while waiting to see if Veigar was still even alive.

╚══════════════╝

'Ⓘ'll show you true power!'

[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«&&&&&&&&
-lil tired / peeved -&&&&&&&&&&&&&










omgomgomgomgomgomgzz













「
The dark mage plotted a course of action, barely able to stand as he gave another small hardly noticeably kick to his bat. Alright, first? Find this mage that attacked his City. Second? Kill him. No, no, no, second, torture him, possibly destroy whatever holds dear if he could find out what that is, and then kill him. Yes. That seemed to be a good plan, a good plan indeed. This was Veigar's property he was messing with, and he wasn't going to go and let this mysterious mage get away with it! The last thing on his mind was the Scout, Teemo. He believed the other wasn't lieing about trying to repay his debt, so he didn't worry about him suddenly attacking him or anything. Whereas if he had the energy, he'd still make sure to keep an eye out on the other, right now he had barely any energy to work with. Keeping an eye on Teemo was extra work, thus extra energy, and.. he sorta forgot that he was there at the moment. Everything besides him and his bat seemed to go black, his only focus. He had to get this thing up and about so that he could leave this stupid forest and start heading over to the Shadow Isles for some well deserved rest. He certainly hadn't planned on saving Bandle City from an unexpected asteroid, but, yeah, some mage decided to throw a bone there. And Veigar would make sure he regretted doing so! If it weren't for him, he wouldn't be going through these aches and pains right now. He would be just about finished with torturing Bandle City, taking his leave and heading over to the Plague Jungles to obtain a Mana Thistle for his latest project. But no. Some stupid mage had to ruin everything. Whoever he was, he was going to be in a lot of pain, very soon..

..just as soon as he got this stupid bat awake! “Get UP I said! Obey me! Wake up or you shall feel my wrath!” he yelled at the bat, still in a deep slumber. Seems the chunk of rock hit him on the head, and he certainly wasn't going to get up any time soon. “Wake - ugh..” he was about to start again, his foot ready to deliver another kick, but suddenly his body shut down on him. Like a light switch, Teemo had turned him off. He fell to his knees first, and then flat on his face. Out with a snap as his body started instantly to react to Teemo's poison. There was no thin layer of magical skin to protect him either, all of that magic was diverted to that shield he produced around the asteroid. There was just his simple armor to protect him, which wasn't very much, and couldn't do anything against a poison inserted via dart. His eyes had shut, and despite his body's panic of this newly introduced poison, was glad the Tiny Master was finally down and out for the count. The effective poison started doing what it did best, attacking at whatever blood cell it could find until Teemo introduced the antidote. Now without the poison to worry about, his body could focus on dealing with the stray magics worming their way inside.

Veigar was like a rag doll, being dragged back on over to where he had previously been sitting before under a tree. He'd never let himself fall unconscious in front of others, let alone Teemo for god sakes, but he didn't really have a choice in the matter did he? And so he slept, the veil of magic sticking to him like glue slowly started to grow smaller and smaller until it was all but gone. His body had managed to suck it all back in, something you definitely shouldn't do, but, there was no place else for it to go. It was meant for the shield, but because he lacked the power to control such incredible magic, there ended up being extra expelled amounts. It made him have to use even more magic to power up the shield. Now, that magic given a purpose but lacking the means to act on it, was taking revenge by causing Veigar this pain. But now it was gone, absorbed in the Tiny Master's body. Not that it could really corrupt anything, as everything was already corrupted so to speak. The peaceful forest was once again quiet, Veigar and his bat looking incredibly out of place in such a colorful setting. They certainly didn't belong there, an evil dark mage and a plague infested bat. Birds chirped and rabbits hopped along, and Veigar rested, along with his bat, in the place they didn't belong.

Veigar's eyes had cracked open, his vision focusing and re-focusing until he clearly saw the forest once more. He sat himself up, flinching slightly as he released a small “Erk..” in the process. How long had he been out? Long enough, considering the extra magics clinging to him was all but gone. And his body didn't seem to be screaming at him as much anymore, though his head kinda hurt. His body wanted more sleep, but, it certainly wasn't going to get it. Still, it was the best it was going to get. He looked around briefly until he spotted the furry Scout, seated on a branch as he hummed a little tune. A bit of his normal glow had returned to his eyes, narrowing them slightly upon spotting the other. So, he kept to his word and 'repaid the debt' by not killing him. If he were in Teemo's shoes, he would have killed him in an instant. Damn Scout and his stupid morals or.. whatever kept him from attacking him! Hmph. Still, the next time they met, things would be back to the way it were. It was just this time, this one and only time that Teemo could get away with being 'helpful' to the Villain of Bandle City. But because he didn't take advantage of his situation, future lives would be at stake. He knew this, and yet he still didn't pull anything. One would say this was very admirable. Veigar would say it was utterly stupid. The fool!

He merely stared at the other high up in the tree, working on some sort of makeshift rope using strands of grass for whatever reason. It was as though this gaze between them was a silent conversation, confirming that they next time they met.. they would once again be enemies. That this helpfulness Teemo provided him was only for now, and that's it. No more. Once that was made clear, the dark mage turned and got himself up off the ground. His body still ached, but not as much as it had earlier. And his vision was as clear as day, having no problems keeping himself balanced. His breathing, too, had evened out. Sure there were still some residual effects from using too much uncontrolled power, but nothing a good rest in the Shadow Isles couldn't fix. For now, he was ready to fly. And so he walked over to the bat, lowering to grasp his weapon, his metal staff. It too had benefited from some rest, no longer sizzling and sparking, but it's jewel was still a tad dimmed like Veigar's eyes. There was also that pesky splint on his left arm, so he had to hold his staff with his right hand instead, where he wore a giant metal gauntlet. The dark mage turned his attention onto his transportation, the plague bat, gaining a sense of annoyance as he saw it napping contently with a snot bubble shrinking and growing with each breathe.

And with a much harsher kick than before, he shouted, “WAKE UP! You infuriating piece of filth!” The plague bat awoke with a start, jolting up as it gave a startled screech in response, to which Veigar gave another kick. “SILENCE! Get up! We're leaving!” The bat seemed to understand, shaking it's back a bit before getting up onto his claws, ready for Veigar to 'board'. He stepped over to it, only to pause before getting on. He thought about looking back to look at Teemo, eyes narrowing as he considered this. After this.. they would be at each other's throats again.. he decided against it and hopped onto the bat's back with a small jump. And with a firm tug of the bat's fur, it gave a screech, and took them into the sky. They left Bandle City and it's surrounding forest behind, now making their way over Sablestone Mountains. Nothing had gone according to his plans. And unfortunately, he wouldn't even be able to procure a Mana Thistle. Why? Not only had the vase he planned on using to encase it break, but, he was sure there was no way he'd be able to pry it out of the Earth without killing it. Plus, he didn't have the energy to go looking for one. That and it was highly doubtable the thing would survive a trip back to the Shadow Isles without some form of magic protecting it, and the dark mage was in no mood to strain his body to produce a constant shield for the bloody thing. He would just have to come back and take another lovely visit to Bandle. For now, it was time to head back.

On the flight back to the Shadow Isles, he allowed himself to rest up. He didn't fall asleep or anything, but merely rested. Veigar refused to lay on the creature however, as it was ridden with small bugs and smells that could make you want to vomit. Hell no. But just by sitting on the bat's back gave him the opportunity to just rest and do nothing. Every so often Veigar would engage in a simple rest, but for the most part, he was too excited for rest and driven by the urge to create some form of chaos to properly allow himself time for rest. After a long trip, or something major, would he rest. Otherwise? Eh, not so much. He could go on for days without sleeping if the only thing he was doing was toying around with villages and such. They were crossing the ocean now, the skies becoming darker and darker as they approached the Shadow Isles. He got a small chill up his spine, his body anticipating the wonders of the darkness of night at the Isles. Yes, he would relish the dark, perhaps rest a bit more. He wasn't sure. After his journey, he was feeling fine, as though he hadn't just repelled a giant asteroid from Bandle. (Though certainly even though he was feeling fine, he really wasn't, still recovering a bit.) Instead of resting, perhaps he'd look and see if he could find that damn mage that dared to destroy his City. Grr. Just thinking about it made him want to stop and destroy a village! This mage, whoever he was, had some nerve..

The plague bat descended upon the Isles, depositing Veigar at the gates of the graveyard.. The magic blinds had disappeared, allowing the creature to once again see. And, as soon as it could, it hurriedly flapped it's wings and made it's way back into the forest. There was a small creak as Veigar pushed the gate open, feeling pretty good in the night of the Isles. Alright, maybe he'd take a small rest in his grave and enjoy the comforts of the dark a little bit. The demise of the mage who summoned the asteroid could wait a bit longer. Certainly, he would soon feel the wrath of Veigar, the Tiny Master of Evil! He better enjoy his last few moments on this planet! The dark mage headed up the hill, passing several wandering undead as he did. “Grave sleeper..” the familiar voice called to him, as dreary and as monotone as ever. The evil yordle looked over, spotting him in the middle of a job of digging up yet another hole. Veigar glared at him, “Don't make me tear your head off, you stupid corpse!” he yelled, continuing his path on towards his grave. Yorick blinked. “..but.. you have a.. visitor..” he trailed, watching with his glowing eyes as Veigar continued onwards, his warning going without being heard. Hmph. How dare he try and ask for another favor so soon!? What the hell was wrong with him! Well, if it was anything of importance, he'd certainly be hearing from him again soon. Still, Veigar had important matters to tend to as well, like finding that mage and nuking him into the ground. Whatever Yorick needed could wait.

“Hmmmm?” the evil yordle stopped in his tracks, raising a 'brow' as he spotted, standing next to his grave, an odd entity. It certainly stood out from all the other mindless undead, bearing wings and a large hat. Veigar continued to inspect the being from afar. He thought that perhaps the gravedigger had recruited some help. Whoever wanted to help that guy dig all day.. had to be stupid. Had to be. Who the hell could dig holes all day!? Besides the gravedigger, of course. He noticed the other holding a shovel in his hands, which only provided further evidence to his theory. He watched the other, his eyes glaring more intensely as he noticed that this guy was.. covering up his grave! “HEY!” his shrill voice yelled, marching over to the other with a fierce glare upon his face. “What do you think you're doing!? How DARE you touch my grave!” he threateningly pointed the end of his staff at the other. Did he care who this guy was? Heck no. All he cared about was that he was messing with HIS GRAVE! Even if this was someone Yorick hired, he wasn't going to get out of this scott-free without receiving a giant helping of Veigar doom! The tip of his staff began to glow. “FEEL MY WRATH!” he shouted, casting several Dark Matter on top and around this being that messed with his hole. It was a bit awkward, having to cast his staff magic through his gauntlet hand, but it worked just as well. This guy was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. Perhaps Yorick had told him to fill up any holes, and had forgotten to tell him about Veigar's special grave. But that didn't matter. The grave he was looking oh so forward to resting in was now almost completely buried because of this buffoon! First, his City, and now, his grave!? Why the hell was everyone messing with his stuff!?


」