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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna
bard-secret-santa

Homecoming

bard-secret-santa

For @high-noon-ezreal your secret santa wanted to remain anonymous!


   It had been difficult to find a place that’s appropriately dusty and “fantasy” in Piltover. Even the antique shops had a polished sheen over their aged artifacts. Nevertheless, three people gathered in a surprisingly musty tavern buried in the alleys of Piltover. Drinks had been passed, clinked together, and emptied as time ticked by. Their table was tucked in the back corner. Some of the shiftier patrons had shot glances at them, but both parties resigned to silent agreement. It was the holidays, after all.

   Eventually, as boredom became too much, one of the patrons spoke up. The pink haired woman slammed her fist onto the table and bellowed a bit louder than what is polite.

   “ Come on, when’s he going to get here already?!”, she demanded, turning to her friends for an agreement. The table shook under her force, not aware of that it was a pair of gauntlets away from being splinters. The woman’s hair fell over her face, almost breaking her concentration. “He said an hour ago, didn’t he?” Another woman next to her calmly put her and on her shoulder. Her voice was distinctly local, with a stern calmness that almost betrayed a gentle tone. Almost.

   “Vi, exploring is hardly a thing one can pin down to the minute-“ she started to assure before being interrupted by the gentleman across her.

   “That’s what you say. Punctuality is simply part of being a hero.” he beamed, half-scolding and half-bragging.

   “That’s what I’m saying!” Vi agreed. “Cait, come on, normally you’re the one with the long gun of the law up your rear over things like this.” Caitlyn sighed.

   “Yes, well, I’m off the clock aren’t I? For once, for Ezreal. Our friend, remember?” Snowflakes danced outside the amber windows. A brisk breeze swept continuously through the tavern, occasionally replaced with the ambient warmth of the nearby crackling fire. A waiter came by to refresh their drinks. Vi took eagerly to hers, with Jayce shortly behind. Caitlyn was just about to scold her about getting drunk before they even started, when the door to the tavern swung open. A tiny bell on the doors’ corner chimed and snow swept down the aisles. Standing dramatically in the doorframe was a lanky teenager smiling a lopsided smile with equally messy blond hair. The doors swung behind him as he made his way to the back of the bar. As he approached, Jayce was the first to notice the pieces of paper he clutched in his hands. He cocked his head and looked at Ezreal inquiringly.

   “So…this game you were talking about…” he began. Ezreal slipped pieces of paper to each of his friends and produced a hefty tome from his pack.

   “Have no fear Jayce, it’s all right here,” Ezreal explained. The pieces of paper were had small images of varying heroes in the corner, with Ezreal’s own handwriting scrawling across the page. “These are who you’re playing, for the sake of clarity and time. Aaaand, I have a sneaking suspicion if I let you make your own characters, I’d end up with a lot of shock blasts.”

   “It’s a good attack,” Jayce added.

   “Yeah, okay, but that’s not the point. Here, Cait,” he pointed at her sheet. “You’ll be an elven archer from the highlands.” She glanced at her paper and began reading it over dutifully. He shifted and pointed at Vi’s paper now, hands spread out like a serious battle plan. “And Vi will be our human monk-“

   “Monk? I don’t meditate, pipsqueak. Try again,” Vi interrupted. Ezreal laughed a bit, “No no, a monk in this game is basically, just a person who fights with their fists. I thought it was fitting for you.”

   “Oh.” Vi actually looked surprised and kicked back in her chair, balancing on its back legs. “Thanks, kid.”

   “And me, Ezreal?” Jayce looked over expectantly, starting to get excited for their game.

   “Youuuuu will beee….a dwarf cleric.” He winced, prepared for the backlash. Jayce looked solemn for a few moments, before nodding.

“Sounds alright.”

“Huh- oh! Yeah, okay! Great!-“

“Do I get a hammer?”

   “…No, no, you’re a cleric so more usually a staff or a shield like object, maybe more of a pendant…there’s a lot to work with. You’re our healer, and you’re opposed to shedding too much blood.” Jayce didn’t respond.

   “Jayce?” The others were looking at Jayce worriedly, save for Vi, who was snickering. Eventually, Jayce spoke again, with a commanding tilt in his tone.

   “May I…”enchant” a hammer with healing powers? Have a sort of, double form, where I can heal and fight at the same time.” His words were cautious and precise. Jayce stared into Ezreal’s eyes, who squinted back.  Ezreal sighed.

   “Yeah, that sounds fine. I’ll write you up something really quick, but other than that, we all set?” Ezreal smiled wearily. “Great! You all start in a nearby tavern, a lot like this one…”

——————————————————————————————————————————

   By the third hour, there were no arguments. No one dared disagree with Ezreal, because no one wanted to. Instead, each of them looked up to him with a sense of awe. He stood at the head of the table looking down at them. His arms gestured wildly with the flow of his narration. He described jade forests, endless deserts, and glass oceans for his friends to explore. Ionia sprung to life before their eyes: Jayce spent a portion of the session meditating with monks, while Vi was confused as a master there. The smell of blood seemed to waft past them as they danced through the battle-scarred landscape of Noxus. They found themselves caught in between a pirating duel between the Shadow Isles and Bilgewater. Back in reality, their laughter bounced off the oaken walls. Once Ezreal had gotten into the rhythm of dungeon master, a calm, controlled smile never left his face (except for those serious storytelling moments where his face and voice would contort in just the right way). Real parchments flowed from his pack where he described in detail his own escapades: a long aged sheet of paper lined with a dead language became a center piece of a cavern puzzle, with several similar scrolls of runes and spells soon followed.

   Before long, the wary stares from other patrons became interested ones, and then fascinated. Ezreal took command of the entire restaurant with his incredible passion and persuasion: a few passing patrons stopped to stare at the table, then a few more, then a few more. Soon practically the whole bar was listening on the tale of three heroes told by an authentic explorer, one who was not beyond displaying his own artifacts. A glowing ruby necklace, a gilded ring that was cold to the touch, and his own gauntlet were put on the table at different points of the adventure, with more to follow. Vi shot a glare at a lurking patron who tried to grab at the loot, and (after a short punch break), play had resumed.

   Eventually the night became so blanketing that the tavern shivered and the bartender called last call. The crowd around Ezreal groaned and booed, and he laughed a bit.

   “That was great guys! You guys really, well, you powered through a whole lot of campaign!” The fireplace crackled and lit each of their faces warmly.

“When’s the next one?” Jayce asked

“Yeah!” “Yes, luv, that was…entrancing.”

   “Yeah,” the crowd drunkenly chimed in, deafening the party for a moment. “The next one!”

Ezreal looked at the sea of faces around him and was content.

   “Well, uh, you guys did get through a good chunk of content, I- Yknow, I should probably hit the road, get some more inspiration, see the sights-“

   “Ohhhh, no you don’t pipsqueak!” Vi chuckled, slinging her arm around his shoulders. “It’s Snowdown! “ She pointed at Caitlyn, then Jayce. “You: some drinks for the road, yeah? And Jayce-“

  “My place. Gotcha.” He smiled a wobbly, yet somehow pristine smile before pushing up from his seat and going to settle the tab. Caitlyn pushed both their chairs in neatly and went to talk to the bartender. Vi let go of Ezreal and they both shuffled papers together before neatly folding them back into his pack.

  They all walked out of the bar, laughing and chatting. A few of their audience straggled after them, which Vi and Caitlyn did a good job of shooing away. Soon Vi burst into a loose rendition of “Jingle Bells”, and they all sang along. Snowflakes dotted their faces. Ezreal looked over at his singing friends and the idyllic city around him. His cheeks stung from smiling and the cold. He was happy. For one night, he really felt like he was surrounded by family.

high-noon-ezreal

i love it! thank you so much, secret santa!!! ❤❤❤

for me happy tag ezreal
nerdgasrnz

high-noon-ezreal asked:

yo lex! would u happen to know if theres a ship name for ren and sage? also where did u get the 'do it for him(sage)' pic i need that on my hard drive pls

nerdgasrnz answered:

@high-noon-ezreal

I made the “do it for him” picture myself, LMAO (I used a template and used screen caps I saved of Sage, LOL)

And I can’t remember what Ren/Sage’s ship name was, if they had one :0

high-noon-ezreal

thats a shame about the ship name, but thanks!!

vvinterhavvk
mrs-transmuter

“Imagine if people had been going ‘don’t fight hate with hate’ back when Hitler was around.”

Fam…let me tell you bout Poland.

mrs-transmuter

Let me tell you about how the entire rest of Europe sat ack and watched the invasion of Poland because they thought it would be “improper” to send military aid. How they were unwilling to enforce the treaties that Germany was breaking, because that would make them “just as bad.” They sat back and wrote strongly worded letters while fascists grew in power because they didn’t want to dirty their hands. They thought reasonable discussion and politics would be enough to stop a fascist dictator from rising to power.