Post by Daichi Hamamoto on May 27, 2013 0:07:39 GMT -5
May 27th, 23CLE
Daichi walked through the market district of Noxus. It was past twilight now and the steets were alit with lantern light which glowed softly and far. Most stalls were closing now and the once lively placed began to die. It was for those few stalls which remained open that Daichi hoped to look at. The idea of searching for anything interesting with little interference was greatly appealing and he knew if he looked hard enough he might find something that was worthwhile. With a wry smile he moved through the streets. The sound of his footsteps carried on the cobblestone beneath him, accompanied slowly by the near silent clinking of coin in his wallet. People were clearing out now, but the summoner’s night had only just begun.
Post by The Deceiver on May 27, 2013 10:50:42 GMT -5
Daichi's steps would eventually stop making sound. The marketplace would peel away, and he would find himself suddenly within the Darkbourne Hold's dining hall. The room was completely empty, with its large, elegant table, all of its seats, and at the head of them sat the Deceiver.
"Daichi," her voice echoed in a harsh tone.
LeBlanc's normally pristine appearance was marred by the bags of fatigue under her eyes. Her left hand, home to normally five creamy fingers, was missing her pinky. A strange glint were in her eyes, it was strange to see her anything but calm, relaxed. If one didn't know better, one could say she looked...panicked?
But that was impossible, perhaps this was another game of hers?
Post by Daichi Hamamoto on May 27, 2013 20:16:21 GMT -5
His footsteps became silent and his surroundings rippled. He'd been summoned by complete surprise, a lump in his throat became quite known to him as his nervousness set in. Before he could grasp the situation an order was barked harshly, almost frustratedly. He knew who it was, she was at the end of the table. His mind raced, had he done something wrong? Everything seemed off. He hadn't realized it but he was already rushing over to his Matron, biting his lip.
He now saw he was in the Darkbourne hall. Out of all the times they'd met LeBlanc never failed to look anything short of perfect. Her eyes were tired and she looked distressed; for the first time ever she looked as human as he was. He hadn't even noticed her lack of finger.
Before he knew it she was in front of him and he dropped to a knee, bowing low. He diverted his sights from her to hide his own distress. "My matron, I'm here. What can I do?" He didn't ask questions or for information, it wasn't his place.
Post by The Deceiver on May 27, 2013 21:05:43 GMT -5
"You are going to summon Singed," she said in a unrefined growl. "You are going to bring him here, and his entire laboratory from Zaun. You will summon all of his equipment, all of his supplies, even the rats that have made their home in his wall, in this room."
LeBlanc flicked her hand, a dagger appeared out of the air and embedded itself in the floor in front of Daichi. A piece of paper was loosely tied to it. "You will not have access to a Nexus' power."
She reached up and plucked one of the crystals that floated about her staff. With a casual toss, it slowly sailed towards Daichi. "This will be your power source. You will start summoning him the moment I finish this sentence."
There was no silkiness, no sense of elegance, none of her usual flair. This was a rare sight that so very few have seen, and lived to tell the tale: LeBlanc was serious.
Post by Daichi Hamamoto on May 27, 2013 21:24:01 GMT -5
Daichi stood immediately, frozen by apprehension as she growled. He instantly caught the gem as if his very life depended upon it. It was then that he noticed her lack of finger. He immediately began working on the task. Arcane energy flared from his hands as he went over everything he learned during the course of his time at the Institute of War. Singed was a champion he knew, but was not accustomed to. Whatever was helping him power his summon was, certainly strong.
LeBlanc's cracked masked, her appearance was not helping his concentration. He steeled himself as one who was familiar with deception would. To see that even she could crack under... what made her crack to begin with? Was something wrong with the Grand General?
He pushed all thoughts to the back of his mind as he worked. The gem glowed, his eyes glowed as did his hands. Summoning Singed was one matter but...everything she requested would be another. However, he would try his damnedest to.
"I...will...try...my matron." He feared his own life depended on this performance, but what she was asking of him was alot. His body pulsated with the familiar blue aura and energy. With any luck Singed was in his lab.
Slowly, near him. Something would begin coming into view. Taking form. He was straining himself now, beads of sweat formed upon his brow.
Post by The Mad Chemist on May 27, 2013 22:45:05 GMT -5
Singed had been working in his private lab for god knows how many hours that day, it could have been days didn’t matter, he had been working in a method to increase the resistance of metals while reducing their weight and that took time.
Then a loud noise invaded the whole place accompanied by a now familiar sensation, he was being summoned…but something was odd, the sensation was dimmer and the connection with the summoner almost nonexistent, as if he was trying to summon many things at the same time.
Besides that the arcane energies where different than usual totally different from the energies of a Nexus, out of curiosity he let himself be summoned to see what was that about.
He would find himself in the Darkbourne’s mansion with two persons on the room in which he had been summoned into. Even more his equipment was in there even his many supplies that should have been stored on many different rooms on his private mansion.
He immediately recognized one of the two persons on the room as Le blanc the personal deceiver of Swain, but something wasn’t right about her in a quick glimpse he recognized the signs of tiredness on her to the point of anemia, perhaps even blood lose judging for he change on color? No wait she had always have been purple hasn't she? Anyway something had made her pass from her characteristically cocky attitude and immaculate figure…to what was in front of him.
He then directed his sight to the man that probably had summoned him, a true show of prowess since he hadn’t only summoned him but all his equipment.
“So tell me madam what is so dire that you require my presence so fast that you would ask someone to summon me and my whole lobaratory?”
Post by Daichi Hamamoto on May 27, 2013 23:22:50 GMT -5
He felt himself wavering but pressed on through his own self doubt, fear and draining to take on the task he knew was above his ability, at least alone. He materialized, along with his full equipment. When it was done, he smiled beneath his hood as the fatigue washed over him like a cold shower. Suddenly unknown pain seared through his body. He buckled to his knees and shook violently.
His insides were on fire. Every muscle flared and vibrated with pain. He felt as though at any moment his body would cease to be, like it would explode messily across the Hold. He said nothing and clenched his jaw shut. He feared that if he bit down on his lip he may very well bite it off.
But he held his tongue, this wasn't about him. For her... he would endure.
Post by The Deceiver on May 27, 2013 23:53:22 GMT -5
The Deceiver raised a hand, violet energy erupted from it and raced at Daichi, bathing him in its dark flames. Instead of burning, he would feel his muscles relaxing, the pain subsiding, his stamina returning. A runic mark would burn on his clothing, pulsating with energy. It was no illusion, as far as he could tell. This was a sample of LeBlanc's power. Her crystal hummed in the air, as though it were not just used as a catalyst.
When the Chemist spoke, her eyes locked with his. "One moment."
Her head snapped at Daichi, she did not need to say a word for her command: What she was about to say was not to leave this room.
"Now then," LeBlanc focused on Singed once more. "Tell me your progress on Jericho's cure. Is it nearly ready, and if so, will it be ready for within the hour?"
Even if it were nearly ready, to ask for within the hour was a ridiculous demand.
Post by Daichi Hamamoto on May 28, 2013 0:05:13 GMT -5
Daichi immediately felt it subside, all of the pain faded. He fell over clumsily, took a few deep breaths. While everything felt better, his strength, his body fine now, there was a haunting feeling that simply felt wrong. Something wasn't there and Daichi was absolutely sure of it. His eyes widened with a little fright when he realized that her methods hadn't full helped him but he immediately put on a mask and slowly but steadily got to his feet.
The summoner stood up straight and grew quiet. He said nothing but couldn't help but wonder what all this was about? This was more than anything he'd ever seen before.
Post by The Mad Chemist on May 28, 2013 15:16:08 GMT -5
Singed let out a soft grunt for being remembered of his past failure “As long as Swain has procured the last ingredient of it I can make it within the next 40 minutes, but seeing how I was brought here I won’t expect such an easy development now tell me what is the urgency? Or better yet show it to me.”
Singed’s tone of voice was cold and blunt, he knew that something dire had happened and he wasn’t going to lose anytime on social conventions, he was there for a reason and he was demanding to know why so he could stat working.
Post by The Deceiver on May 28, 2013 17:21:02 GMT -5
LeBlanc stood up from her seat. A sharp rap of her staff sent out another blaze of violet energy, and now the three of them stood before Swain's bedroom door. She tapped the wooden frame with her staff, and motioned to Singed to enter the room with a nudge of her head. "Go."
Daichi would know better than to try and enter the room.
Post by The Master Tactician on May 28, 2013 23:35:00 GMT -5
The door to the Grand General's chambers swung open. All that swam into view was a barrier of neon purple light upon the threshold, opaque enough that nothing more than a stately four-poster bed could be discerned from the outside... but as soon as Singed stepped into the bedroom, the illusion dissolved. There looked to have been a struggle. The far-side chamber wall was concave where the lich had been slammed against it. Beside the bed, a man-sized pile of ash lay heaped upon the floor.
Books were scattered here and there, strewn about the room, fallen from the shelves upon which they usually sat displayed in perfect order. Shattered glass crunched beneath the chemist's boots as he strode forward--towards the bed where once-white sheets lay red around the crumpled body of Noxus' Grand General. Beatrice sat perched atop the bed's canape, keeping watch over her master. She let out a harsh succession of cries to announce Singed's presence, wings spread wide, flapping ominously: caw, caw, caw, caw, caw...
Swain lay on his back in the mattress' center, barely breathing, his palms upturned beside him in some ironic imitation of meditation. His evening robes were torn at the chest, exposing a jagged wound: angular slashes, which bled profusely all around him. Crimson liquid pooled in the wound's own depths, dribbling over the Master Tactician's wasted sides. There, exposed, he looked like little more than a corpse, worlds worse than when he'd last received treatment in January. His skin, taut about deflated muscles and jutting bones, contrasted gray beneath the crimson smears of his own blood.
His face was swollen and bruised so badly that he was scarcely recognizable, his left eye gouged and weeping blood onto the pillow. From beneath his shroud, black spiderwebs of his decay crept out over his collarbones and shoulders, spreading, stretching, reaching ever further over his decrepit form.
If the chemist were to check for vitals, he would find his patient's flesh so hot it nearly seared to touch, the pulsing of his heart so weak it scarcely could be felt.
Post by The Mad Chemist on May 29, 2013 1:06:53 GMT -5
“Dam” was the first thing that came to Singed’s mind when he saw the grand general of Noxus in such a deplorable state, mangled down and consumed for archaic magics “will they ever realize that I’m not that kind of doctor?” He thought for himself, mind you he had taken apart enough bodies to know how to patch them together, and he had same problem back on Ionia so practice on first aid he didn’t lacked. First thing he did was taking the signs of the once “healthy” grand general weak and showing signs of fever caused by infection. Looking at the wound it seemed to be some kind of inscription, probably rune magic, a gauged eyeball…that was more than problematic then what would be one of the biggest hurdles overcome to get him back to “health” or at least to a state where he wouldn’t die in the next few hours. There was a mass of negative energy running amok inside his body scrambling his nervous system. What to do first? Singed had been presented with a particularly “delicate” puzzle, since the order in which he would administrate the potions would affect the outcome deeply. He didn’t lose any time on putting some cooling pack on the back of his head to lower the body temperature so his brain would be protected from the fever. Then the bleeding was the next pressing problem…a dire one the bleeding was not ceasing, and the cause of the fever was the opened wounds that served as nursery for many types of bacteria’s that where polluting his blood. He would prepare a cocktail of antibiotics in order to combat the infection, now that was being taken care off the next thing was to make he would not wake up during the next proceedings, since he could die of shock because of the pain now that he has been weakened so much. He would start to clean the wounds with hot water at an almost boiling temperature in order to remove removed any corrupted flesh, dirt or anything else that could cause any further infection the cleaning of the eye socket was tricky but none the least he would do it on a masterful manner. After that bandages were due to alongside with some potions to decrease the speed in which he was losing blood. Now the next was the worst…the negative energy…a proverbial bitch to deal with…what to do with such and ethereal poison? Of course poisons where is area of expertise and he had been studying all about curses since his last…failure. He took upon himself to prepare something to stop the advancement of the ethereal poison on its march to destroy the general’s life. He took a small pot of active carbon mixed it with silver from mount Targon that had been bathing on the moon rays for at least 700 days, after that he diluted it on Minotaur’s blood the concoction was ready, not an antidote but something that would encapsulate the energy impending it’s free run through his body destroying every single nerve. He was stable…for now.
Post by The Master Tactician on May 29, 2013 23:07:33 GMT -5
Several hours passed in which the chemist did his work. LeBlanc's and Daichi's combined spellcrafts had transported his equipment into the room, unaltered from its normal setup in his lab--which now lay hundreds of miles away and empty. The general's wounds he cleaned and bandaged. When Singed lifted or turned his patient to wrap his withered torso, the Master Tactician made no sound or movement, but stayed completely limp under the effects of the chemist's anesthetic, his own exhaustion and the fever that still burned through him. The haemostatic agent administered intravenously had slowed blood loss to a steady trickle for the moment.
While the antibiotic mixture brewed, Singed injected his localizing concoction at the precise spinal site where negative energy could be halted, preventing full paralysis. Though the most time-sensitive matters had been addressed, there remained the need for the administration of a fever reducer, the first round of antibiotics and the intravenous administration of isotonic fluids to account for the heavy loss of blood, which stained the mattress in a crimson rorschach pattern.
Throughout the procedure, Beatrice stared down at the concentrating scientist, a self-appointed dark guardian in the night.
Post by Daichi Hamamoto on May 30, 2013 20:22:48 GMT -5
Daichi remained outside of the room, silently with his Matron. Only a fool would intrude. Daichi's eyes flickered to the doorway and then immediately back to to LeBlanc who waited outside with him. The sound of a raven cawing and other small sounds of a cruel chemist dabbling with his set. The Ionian still felt...like something was off. He was healthy but he could have sworn he'd just lost a limb.
He restrained himself of questions and idly clasped his hands together and pressed his fingers against his his index and middle repeatedly, almost to some unheard beat. He supposed all he had to do now was wait.
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