Her expression grew cold when Renekton stalked towards her menacingly with rich, ethereal violets glaring up upon the monstrous visage of the crocodile. She would say nothing to him, only leveling her gaze from beneath his, meeting eyes until Swain's obvious approach brought him closer.
When Swain arrived, she'd fight against the holds with a bitter scowl set upon her features, "Go fuck yourself."
Behind them, the little origami skirted its way off, making for the kitchen and out the window swiftly. With it, information on everything she heard - unless someone catches it before hand.
Post by The Master Tactician on Feb 2, 2013 19:31:45 GMT -5
Red eyes flashed. His smirk broadened, deepening the premature agelines on his face. He watched her struggle against the assassins, who stood in silence, restraining the girl with little effort. "Such terrible manners. Shame to waste a pretty face..." The smirk grew into a sinister grin. "Ah well. Butcher."
He threw a brief glance over his shoulder, eyebrows raised to punctuate his amusement at his captive's futile exertion, her senseless impertinence. Perhaps she did not fully comprehend the combined power of current company. Perhaps she was merely stupid enough to think she could waltz into the heart of Noxus, trespass into his own manor and walk away unscathed. "Enjoy your appetizer."
Swain stepped sideways into the shadows, leaving his champion and the intruder face to face, the demigod's teeth and newly fitted armor gleaming menacingly by firelight.
Post by Vivien LeMeire on Feb 2, 2013 19:47:55 GMT -5
In the second story kitchen, Vivien pulled her bread from the oven, set it upon the counter to cool, closed the oven's grate to smother the coals. She strode to the window, pressing closed the crack she'd used to keep the room cool while she baked. She busied herself with wiping down the countertops, humming her mournful tune, when something small fluttered by her ear, smacked against the windowpane.
Vivien's head snapped to follow it, her brown eyes wide with surprise. It looked to be a folded piece of paper. "What the hell...?" she breathed as she tiptoed daintily to the window. It rammed against the glass repeatedly, seemingly determined to exit the way it entered. The maid extended her hand, her pale face rapt with curiosity. She attempted to catch the parchment form like a butterfly.
"Wh-what!?" Her eyebrows pinched together, her gaze flicking between Renekton and Swain. However the fight or flight instinct was overwhelming her, and making it incredibly hard not to shift forms. She'd try to straighten, and pull away from the assassins. She was, however, not particularly strong physically. Her jaw tightened with her gaze growing more feral, "You don't want to do this." She said with a hiss to her voice.
It was clear she was fighting with something. Somewhere inside her, that primordial monster was stirring, and aching to be set free. Her gaze reflected the beast beneath the surface of her skin, held back just barely as she struggled against the grips upon her. She couldn't flee, and the drive to survive was pushing her ever closer to that edge. "D-don't come any closer!" Feeling the frightening gaze of Renekton upon her no doubt, it stirred her ever more. She had to escape somehow.. Did she really have a choice? Help would be on the way.. But it appeared she'd already made a poor decision in her response.
As the assassins held her and the distance between the croc and her small frame waned, she growled with a threatening tone caressing her, causing her being to become something far less small and non-threatening. It reeked of the primal drive of what she truly was, and soon would be displayed for them both. Wings seemed to sprout from her back, the force of their appearance potentially harsh enough to throw the assassins away from her, or perhaps force their grips to loosen. With the appearance of her wings came more elongated ears which pinched into delicate points at the tips. Her canines seemed to sharpen like that of a cats, with a long tail appearing from behind her decorated in feathery tassels on the end. If the assassins kept their grip, claws would drive into their flesh, intending to rip into them to force their holds to come undone.
It might be premature, but she was starting to panic. This was never a good position to be in.
When the window would shut and Vivien would take notice of the little origami, it would try to flutter up and away from her searching for another possible exit. However unfortunately it carried little intelligence, and would easily be caught.
If Vivien should try to unfold it or read it, she would find it simply appeared to be a piece of blank paper.
Post by The Master Tactician on Feb 2, 2013 21:56:21 GMT -5
The assassins that restrained her were knocked backwards by her unfurling wings. The fourth unburdened mage reached instinctively for the pouch at his belt, drew out several marble-sized black orbs and prepared to scatter them at Skylark's feet, but the Grand General's own spell was issued in an instant, practiced, precise, before his shrouded agent could dispense the alchemical arsenal. As Swain's gnarled hand sliced the air, a circle of purple runes glowed around the animorph's feet. The floor sprang to life; marble and carpet twisted into talons, which clamped hard around the half-transfigured intruder's arms and legs, rendering her immobile.
The general's shadowed face remained impassive, but his eyes blazed red through the gloom. "I don't? I am still waiting to hear," He slammed his cane onto the floor, his shriveled form seeming to emanate rage-fueled power. His voice grew fiendish, inhuman again, "Why."[/color][/font] He assumed she could still speak, despite the elongated teeth, the savagery etched upon her visage.
She felt freedom for that brief moment as the assassins would be knocked away. Every part of her yearning to complete the motion, and make her way away from them. But before she could turn, the entanglement of talons would seize her limbs and lock her into place once more. Her eyes widened with shock, a sense of fear rushing through her. Forced to face him, Sky would snap her tail towards one of the restrains on her arm, driving hidden claws at the end of her tail into its hide to try to break it and free her right arm.
"Nngh!" She'd fight with everything she had, desperate to break free. "N-No!" Sky cried, "Don't.. Don't do this, Swain! You don't -- " Her eyes pleaded towards him as she continued to fight. Her body jerked against the restraints somehow managing to wiggle the necklace free from the coat she wore over her small, slender body. It was plain leather chord, with a peculiar looking stone hung from the end and wrapped in silver wire. Beneath the wraps were archaic symbols not like anything before seen in Runeterra. The faintest hint of life would stir within its core faintly. Not impossible to see, but difficult to initially notice.
"I just - I wanted to know if your intentions were real." She lies, "After what Varus did.. Did you really dismiss everything? Really? Is Ionia safe from you!?"
Renekton's thick brow furrowed behind the plates of his mask as the frail girl before him began to shift and transfigure; this was a development that he had not been anticipating. He had seen many strange things upon the Fields of Justice, ranging from the Bestial Huntress and how shifted her form, to the bizarre abominations that crawled forth from the Void. Paired with the comfortably bestial denizens of his own world, Renekton's composure was not as phased by the sudden transformation as some of Swain's guards were. As he took a rumbling step forward, a broad smile grew across his face, the crimson eyes across his mask turning to an ever darker tone.
No, he was genuinely pleased by this transformation. There would have been no sport, no challenge or enjoyment to merely snapping some frail girl's neck. Now he stood before a raging beast, one that appeared to seek little more than destruction and carnage. Cracking his neck with a resounding crunch, Renekton crossed the divide with a pair of powerful strides before his gauntlet-bound claw closed around the morphing beast's throat, his other hand readying the immense blade. A fitting first trophy for his work under Noxus.
Skylark was not a raging beast by this point. She was only half-changed, only taking on specific features that would resemble that of her full form. Elongated ears, sharpened teeth, tail, wings, claws and feral eyes. She had not progressed beyond this point at the moment Renekton went to wrap his clawed fingers about her throat.
The small Ionian was still small and fighting the hold. However something strange would happen as the croc's palm rested at the front of her neck and made contact with the stone. A strange sensation would start to flow up through his hand and along the length of his arm when the stone rested against his palm. At first it was small, and mild, but grew into a dull pulsation.
Skylark's cheeks paled noticeably. Was it fear? This was no fear she had shown before. This was not fear of Renekton, or Swain, but something else entirely. She'd start to fight all the more, though the creature's hold would no doubt be far superior to any strength she could muster.
"S-Swain!" She called out, "N-Nobody sent me! I came here on my own! I-I just needed to know!" The sensation of a heart beat would touch Renekton's ears. It was far larger then the one Skylark could produce. Slower, and carried with it an alien rhythm that generated it's own source of life. The dulled stirring energies within the stone that was carved with archaic symbols would begin to strengthen, a bright glow radiating out from Renekton's palm where it remained pressed against her throat.
There was clearly far more to this girl then what they had earlier expected of her. Something was truly amiss.
Post by The Master Tactician on Feb 3, 2013 14:09:28 GMT -5
Swain gave a snort of derision. As the demigod forced the animorph back against the wall, talons retracted into the floor, restoring the carpet and marble seamlessly to their pre-transmogrified state. "Then I grant you some comfort in your final moments," he said, his tone even, imperial, "Ionia will not be razed. Not by my hand."
Still shrouded by the room's shadows, red eyes shining through the dark, he growled to Renekton, "Crush her already. We don't have time for this nonsense."
There was nothing else she could do. The words from Swain echoed as her mind unraveled to the fury within her. That beast that clawed at the surface was laughing beneath her visage. It's malicious smile growing with darkness spreading across her vision.
She could hear it. The thump of her own heart.
It seemed distant, but grew louder in her mind.
Everything around her had become ebony, shrouding the pain and fear she had.
Freedom
Her face began to elongate creating a muzzle from the human face, her arms snapped and cracked into strange positions as muscles knitted and morphed. Her back grew in length and widened with the broadness of her chest coating rapidly in fur with whiskers sprouting from her cheeks. The sound of her transformation alone was sickening to listen to, with her neck widening beneath Renekton's grip and her whole form seeming to grow rapidly in size.
Her wings spread as massive claws ripped at the floor, with her maw opening wide to roar out in that frenzied rage. As fur coated over her, and the last of her body transformed, before the two would stand a gryphon easily the size of a horse - if not slightly larger.
The necklace that had been exposed, would suddenly snap off and be sent flying towards Swain beyond Renekton's hand once she had reached her full size. Just as she readied to fight the crocodile beast that had intended to kill her. There was no level of consciousness there. No sense of right from wrong. Just a murderous rampage blaring in those wild eyes. The desire to taste of their blood caused her maw to drip with saliva, and her stomach to rumble with intense hunger.
As the bestial creature grew greater and greater in scale, Renekton's savage instincts began to kick in as well. At last, prey at the height of its power, something that could offer him a worthy challenge as he tore it limb from limb. It would not be quite like engaging in battle with any of demigod peers, but for the time being it would suffice. The major difference between the creature and his kin was in their intentions; where his fellow demigods fought for varying purposes, carried differing motivations and goals, this monstrosity was little more than an animal in dire need of putting down.
The beast's neck grew significantly in width, forcing Renekton to release it lest he risk losing the hand entirely. The fang-filled muzzle of the griffon would likely have posed some amount of threat to him had he not been clad in his bladed armor, but it was the time to put the new equipment to practice. Swain's enchanted contract likely would force him to do so anyways, but Renekton relished the opportunity to put down such an exotic, yet troublesome beast.
The hulking demigod leaned back slightly before releasing a deafening roar in response to the feral beast's, then surged forward to put all of his might behind a titanic blow with his gauntleted fist. As the blow hammered the creature back, Renekton would swiftly follow with a full-body lunge, intending to pin the griffon in a more favorable position.
The punch would do as intended, knocking the gryphon back harshly. A pained yelp would escape her maw, though she wouldn't give up quite so easily. She also felt trapped, and animals respond viciously to being placed in such a position. Her jaw opened revealing those long, sharp teeth as claws tore against the floor trying to close what distance had been put between her and Renekton. As he came in after her again to try to pin her, her teeth clamped down at his shoulder trying to either tear the armor off, or sink her teeth through it to the flesh beneath. Her claws aimed to latch into the crevices between the armor he wore with every intention to rip into the skin there.
As the stone would fall and slide across the floor to Swain's feet, it began to pulsate wildly seeming chaotic in its energies at best. It'd easily catch the old bird's eye as it seemed to brighten with the gryphon's attacks and dim when she would be struck, or momentarily not in combat. It obviously had some connection to her, and this form.
Post by The Master Tactician on Feb 3, 2013 21:52:22 GMT -5
Crimson eyes flashed. Stoic, still, Swain observed the two titans' battle through his lounge room, knocking over bookcases and shattering pottery. The mage-assassins had largely drawn back in surprise, ready to step in to help subdue the beast if need be, but momentarily enraptured as the two feral beings locked in combat.
The necklace fell, the clatter of stone on stone, slid against his boot. It pulsed blue light at peak points in the savage skirmish. Slowly, scowling, the Grand General stooped to pick it up. Its properties were clearly magical, clearly somehow linked to the ferocious griffon form that now thrashed about the room, entangled with his champion. He glanced from the necklace in his palm to the brawling pair, his gnarled fingers closing around the stone.
Any action the gryphon was taking to counter Renekton suddenly ceased. Eyes widened with her head lifted slightly falling to whatever pinning the croc had intended of her. She remained still, her maw opened slightly but she no longer seemed to fight. Her eyes slowly shifted to Swain, somewhere deep inside of that feral gaze there was submission. She lowered her head, and depending on how she were pinned, would rest it on the ground with her eyes locked upon the gnarled fingers that clutched the stone.
A faint, low rumble in her throat indicated she was aware, but unmoving. Like a person aware of their surroundings, but paralyzed. Under the control of something foreign to them. A loud exhale left her large, feline nostrils like a deep sigh with eyebrows lifted pathetically up at Swain.
Post by The Master Tactician on Feb 3, 2013 23:17:47 GMT -5
The beast fixed him with a recognizable look of submission. Submission? He turned the stone over in his hand, quirked a brow. "Stop," he issued a sudden command to Renekton. From the stone, a faint heartbeat pulsed against his flesh, the subtle warmth of power.
He shifted his weight, took a crooked step closer to the two sprawled beasts, seeming to contemplate the situation, eyes blazing. "Let it up," he growled.
Welcome to Maelstrom, Original Characters, Summoners and Champions alike. We are a divergent setting roleplay forum for the ever-popular MOBA by Riot, League of Legends. This means we are based in Riot canon, but your characters' actions can have a real, lasting impact on the world. Together, the Maelstrom community endeavors to bring the League of Legends setting and characters to life through collaborative storytelling and meaningful development. We welcome you along for the ride.
Hang out in a citystate, visit the Institute of War, explore the uncharted recesses of Runeterra. Whatever you decide, good luck, have fun and happy writing.
hello new skin yes. gonna work out some kinks but let me know what you guys think. it's not all that flashy but i didn't really like the tabs so the side bar is back. oh and the cbox has also made it's appearance. -rurin.
Maelstrom was created by Swain. Written content is copyrighted to their creators on this site. The skin is created by Wolf and mini-profile template by Kuroya of Gangnam Style. The board and thread remodel is by Kagney and has been heavily edited by Rurin. League of Legends is owned by Riot Games. Maelstrom does not claim ownership to any images used unless stated otherwise.
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