zeldathemes
☱ (omfgomfogm Ask-Sheriff-Caitlyn)

a-mechanical-girl:

December 20th

Dad’s been busy a lot.
He’s doing more city work.
Sometimes ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍِٖٖٖٖؐؓؐὉٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖ̰ٖٖؐؐዊٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖٖٖؐ፞ؐ╯ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖٖٖؐ̃ؐ஧ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐீ்ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖٖٖؐؐឥٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐ឵ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐؾٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍُٖٖٖٖؐؐǂٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖ̪ٖٖؐؐះٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐំٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐ
when I’m not stuck in clឥٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐ឵ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐؾٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍُٖٖٖٖؐؐes.

There’s a l╯ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖٖٖؐ̃ؐ஧ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐீ்ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖٖٖؐؐឥٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐ឵ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐؾٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍُٖٖٖٖؐؐǂٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖ̪ٖٖؐؐះٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐំٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐ with the
law╯ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖٖٖؐ̃ؐ஧ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐீ்ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖٖٖؐؐឥٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐ឵ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐؾٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍُٖٖٖٖؐؐ╯ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖٖٖؐ̃ؐ஧ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐீ்ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖٖٖؐؐឥٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐ឵ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐؾٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍُٖٖٖٖؐؐ╯ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖٖٖؐ̃ؐ஧ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐீ்ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖٖٖؐؐឥٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐ឵ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐؾٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍُٖٖٖٖؐؐǂٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖ̪ٖٖؐؐះٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐំٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐǂٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖ̪ٖٖؐؐះٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐំٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐǂٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖ̪ٖٖؐؐះٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐំٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐird,
but she talks to me sometimes when
it’s really slow, and I get ╯ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖٖٖؐ̃ؐ஧ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐீ்ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖٖٖؐؐឥٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐ឵ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐؾٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍُٖٖٖٖؐؐǂٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖ̪ٖٖؐؐះٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐំٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐd.

She’s very ni╯ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖٖٖؐ̃ؐ஧ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐீ்ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖٖٖؐؐឥٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐ឵ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐؾٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍُٖٖٖٖؐؐǂٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖ̪ٖٖؐؐះٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐំٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐd really smart too.
She sa╯ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖٖٖؐ̃ؐ஧ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐீ்ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖٖٖؐؐឥٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐ឵ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐؾٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍُٖٖٖٖؐؐǂٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖ̪ٖٖؐؐះٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐំٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐhe wants to become a p╯ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖٖٖؐ̃ؐ஧ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐீ்ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖٖٖؐؐឥٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐ឵ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐؾٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍُٖٖٖٖؐؐǂٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖ̪ٖٖؐؐះٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐំٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐcer.
I think that’s really cool.

She told me her na╯ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖٖٖؐ̃ؐ஧ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐீ்ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖٖٖؐؐឥٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐ឵ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐؾٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍُٖٖٖٖؐؐǂٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖ̪ٖٖؐؐះٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐំٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐ╯ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖٖٖؐ̃ؐ஧ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐீ்ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖٖٖؐؐឥٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐ឵ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐؾٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍُٖٖٖٖؐؐǂٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖ̪ٖٖؐؐះٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐំٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐ.
I kind of ho╯ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖٖٖؐ̃ؐ஧ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐீ்ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖٖٖؐؐឥٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐ឵ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐؾٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍُٖٖٖٖؐؐǂٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖ̪ٖٖؐؐះٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐំٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐk to her more.
I think I mi╯ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖٖٖؐ̃ؐ஧ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐீ்ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖٖٖؐؐឥٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐ឵ٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐؾٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍُٖٖٖٖؐؐǂٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٍٖٖ̪ٖٖؐؐះٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐំٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٌٍٍٍٍٖٖؐally get a friend.

The faded parchment wilted in Caitlyn’s hand like a flower that died long before its season’s end… Her hands were trembling as she tried to examine each letter carefully, crystalline eyes narrowing in concentration. She bit the inside of her cheek, attempting in vain to separate herself from the words, to take their weight upon herself without breaking beneath it.

But she couldn’t.

Caitlyn held her breath as she recalled that day— the first that she had ever met the girl— and a desperate smile twisted her lips as oceans filled her gaze and blurred the message before spilling down her cheeks. She laughed. She laughed quietly to herself, tears littering the paper before she managed to wipe them away. Her heart ached, falling painfully in her chest like a stone.

She wasn’t even an officer yet. Not then, not when she met Orianna… She was just a girl looking forward to a bright future.

… And so was she.

"Orianna…" The sheriff choked weakly, "You did.."

.

'I'll always think of you as a friend.'

  #amechanicalgirl  
"… It’s a relaxing day."

"… It’s a relaxing day."

  #cait where did ur punk rock go    #come back  
suqling:

Viktor and Caitlyn.. I feel that they could have been good friends. They both share a vision of progress for their own city states, but their ideological differences will put too many misunderstandings between them.


((ooc: THAT’S IT. I’M DEAD. LITERALLY FREAKING DEAD. summoner mun cannot handle this awnf;jkanw;jgvnawjkvnawVJNAWLJNVLAKWJMNVKLNBS i’m freaking out oh my god. Suqling you are amazing.))
(( progenitorviktor ))

suqling:

Viktor and Caitlyn.. I feel that they could have been good friends. They both share a vision of progress for their own city states, but their ideological differences will put too many misunderstandings between them.

((ooc: THAT’S IT. I’M DEAD. LITERALLY FREAKING DEAD. summoner mun cannot handle this awnf;jkanw;jgvnawjkvnawVJNAWLJNVLAKWJMNVKLNBS i’m freaking out oh my god. Suqling you are amazing.))

(( progenitorviktor ))

  #I LOVE YOU SUQLING    #YOU'RE NOT WRONG    #IT'S TERRIBLE    #ugh omfg    #i can't even    #consider    #pretending    #this isn't consuming my life    #hello friends    #cait mun    #is awful    #look at thE PRETTY ART THO    #screams    #progenitorviktor  

vi-piltover-enforcer:

ask-sheriff-caitlyn:

"It’s funny. There was a time I could never picture Vi in a suit… but she cleans up rather nicely."

((Got the perfect music right here.))

"Takes a real special time to get me into somethin like that.  ’Course… heh.  I’d count that as every time with Cait, so."

((OOC: YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO GIVE ME FEELINGS ABOUT TWO SHIPS AT THE SAME TIME VI WHAT THE FRICK))

  #SCREAMING  

ask-sheriff-caitlyn:

((ooc: OH NO I FORGOT HER NECK TATTOO GUYS STAHP))

((ooc: fixed. worst girlfriend na))

  #sobs    #vi bby i'm sorry    #off duty  

((ooc: OH NO I FORGOT HER NECK TATTOO GUYS STAHP))

  #SHT SHTHSTHSIHTISHTISHTISHTI  

"It’s funny. There was a time I could never picture Vi in a suit… but she cleans up rather nicely."

  #andnowican'tSTOPthinkingaboutherinasuit    #wot    #'oo said that    #the most shoujo gay ass shit i ever done drew    #look even little roses    #gaaAAAAYYYYY    #piltover's finest    #art reply    #Vi needed love  
ask-sheriff-caitlyn:

progenitorviktor:

"Caden. Stop."

Explains why Tori is Cranky
For ask-sheriff-caitlyn - drew in r63 Cait from original stand alone Tori [ x ]


“Viktoria. No. Your hair is out of place, love. Don’t you want to look nice? I swear if you don’t take a break and take care of yourself once in a while, your whole head will go gray. And then where would that leave me, Tori? An old man? I won’t have it.”
((ooc: [[squealing]] omfg he looks so handsome stop picking on tori cade gdi))

ask-sheriff-caitlyn:

progenitorviktor:

"Caden. Stop."

Explains why Tori is Cranky

For ask-sheriff-caitlyn - drew in r63 Cait from original stand alone Tori [ x ]

Viktoria. No. Your hair is out of place, love. Don’t you want to look nice? I swear if you don’t take a break and take care of yourself once in a while, your whole head will go gray. And then where would that leave me, Tori? An old man? I won’t have it.”

((ooc: [[squealing]] omfg he looks so handsome stop picking on tori cade gdi))

  #edited    #cade    #rule 63    #progenitorviktor    #gift art    #omfg    #these fkn cuties    #cade u lil sht    #leave her alone    #squeaks    #AU    #otp  

Night Ventures

progenitorviktor:

ask-sheriff-caitlyn:

progenitorviktor:

"If anything though," he continued, "I’d pursue a career as an educator; I wouldn’t mind teaching whilst researching techmaturgy. Say, what kind of hextech discoveries was your mother involved in?"

Even with the distortion of his mask and its filter, the wistful tone to the Herald’s voice did not go unrecognized by Caitlyn. Her smirk had softened. Seeing the world and appreciating its various cultures and landscapes— what secrets lay forgotten and what lore still ran thick through the veins of each city-states’ inhabitants— was of great interest to her.

Her curiosity hadn’t always been so captivated by such. Not until her travels in pursuit of the infamous burglar, C, had taken her to faraway places. Still, her expeditions were on business, and strict business at that. Her views were all in passing, only glimpses of what mysteries there were yet to uncover. She counted herself lucky she had gotten to see so much of the world first hand at all. But, knowledge beckoned, and brilliant minds would prove that thirst unending time and time again.

Before she had a chance to process his words, the investigator found the conversation inching backwards to the topic of her interests once more. Caitlyn’s tired blue eyes were suddenly lively with excitement. Her exhaustion allowed her reply to spill easily from her lips with little consideration for reigning in her enthusiasm, "My mother? Ah, Morella Blakemoore— the focus of her research, as you might know, was the aspect of binding magic to technology, the concept that soon would aid in defining hextech as a whole!" Her answer was candid, the sharpshooter quickly finding herself indulging eagerly in the topic, ”She studied the natural synergy of magic and machine, studied the art and practice of techmaturgy— for the first time taking a detailed account of what made the coexistence of both within one product possible— and efficient. It was by no means unheard of, but understanding the two and where they met opened many doors for the future…”

Her words slowed as she reached the end of her answer, though by no means would she have been finished there had she not caught herself. Caitlyn found her crystalline gaze parallel to the softly glowing lenses of the Herald’s mask, and quickly the realization of just whose presence she was in had chilled her ardor. She looked away, eyes focusing on a spot in front of them down the hall. Her next words were quiet, more an addendum or epilogue than a continuation of her answer.

“Techmaturgy was her dream, but our family is entirely without the gift of magic. Research, unfortunately, is where such involvement ended… It’s rather surreal, in all honesty, reconciling my mother with the legacy that bears her name. If I had chosen the same path, I’d only hope to live up to her reputation. Surpassing it would be an impossible goal, even for me. Perhaps I should be glad I made a name for myself elsewhere.”

Viktor found himself surprised at what reverence she had for her mother; but it was to be expected, her mother, Morella Blakemoore, was the pillar of hextech science. The Sheriff was the daughter of one of the most successful women in the history of hextech! He could scarcely believe he had learned about Caitlyn’s mother. How he grew to greatly respect Morella during his studies in college. She had contributed so much to defining hextech! The Herald had even referenced her work for his own inventions.

Her name suddenly appeared in bold text in his mind along with the many articles and pictures he had seen her in, the connection between parent and child was now clear and concrete to him. It was no wonder the Sheriff’s surname sounded so familiar.

However, the mentions of Morella also struck a different chord in the inventor. The first strum was nostalgic, but in his tired state of mind, the second sounded diminished. His thoughts ran free and unchecked, and they all weaved together to form a painful knot in his chest.

Now he was awake.

"I’m certain your mother must be proud of you." Of course she had to be, for all of Piltover lauded her skills as the deterrent of crime and as a champion. One thought led to the next - he knew it was coming - and that thought crept into his mind before he could distract himself from it, one that he had always wondered about: What did it feel like to have a mother’s love and praise?

What was it like?

"What is she like? Your mother?" He remembered as a younger man he had eagerly dreamed of traveling to meet his idols. He had hoped to someday make them more than the biographies he knew them by to more as a part of his reality. Viktor wanted to express his opinions about their work, but more importantly he wanted a chance to share this equal love for exploration. His thoughts turned sullen at the new reality he would have instead. The Zaunite would only ever meet Morella through words. After all, he was the Machine Herald.

As he spoke to Caitlyn now, his voice came out quieter and more somber than he had intended, “I… was always curious.”

'I'm certain your mother must be proud of you…' Those words caught the sheriff off-guard. An awkward smile crossed her lips that soon softened as his words sunk in, soothing some part of her that she had hoped had gone unexpressed. In her tired state, she must have forgotten she wasn’t the only one who could read people like fine poetry. Caitlyn found herself arching a brow when once more he spoke, the weak tone in which he did intriguing her. Disarming her. She hadn’t expected such from the Herald…

She hadn’t expected any of this from the Herald, it seemed.

Her own voice was soft when she replied, warm and fond as she thought of her mother. Even more, her footsteps slowed and her sapphire eyes dared to settle their gaze upon that steel visage she so often saw before death or through her sights, and few other times.

"She’s brilliant. I suppose one could say I grew up right beside her in her lab… This hat I wear is her work," as though to emphasize her point, Caitlyn lifted a forefinger to tap the brim, and upon contact, the quiet clicking of gears could be heard as the hat’s lenses readjusted, "And," Her hand then traveled over her shoulder, where the barrel of her rifle usually sat. Fingers splayed, realizing its weight was not there and closing into a fist before settling nervously against her collarbone. She had forgotten.. In the halls of the Institute of War, she was without her beloved weapon, and without it she was naked, vulnerable. She bit the inside of her cheek before continuing, "My rifle, too… Ah, but don’t think my mother’s work would ever be so shoddy. Its condition is due to my insistence that my father’s rifle be used as a base. It’s not her work from scratch but rather an augmentation of the original.. Sentimentality, perhaps, is another lesson gleaned from her.

"My mother… is the most kindhearted woman I’ve yet to meet, Viktor. She taught acceptance. I took a page from her book when I recruited Vi onto the force… My mother would never stand to see such brilliance without a roof over her head and tools in hand!" The sharpshooter found herself laughing quietly before her voice softened once more, "But… it’s something dear to her she passed to me. Where someone began means nothing. Their past does not define them… it’s what future lies ahead that matters.

Still, recruiting an ex-criminal to the force wasn’t exactly my most popular decision of the decade.. but it’s one I’ll never regret.”

Caitlyn paused, furrowing her brow and lifting her hand to her forehead to massage her temples, "Ah, apologies. I believe I got off topic.. It’s late."

  #progenitorviktor    #rp    #night ventures  

Dorks

Michelle | Caitlyn: anyways
Michelle | Caitlyn: I'm a dork
Summoner Night V. Cipher // Arren Kelvess: hun
Summoner Night V. Cipher // Arren Kelvess: We're ALL dorks
Michelle | Caitlyn: <3
Summoner Night V. Cipher // Arren Kelvess: non-dorks
Summoner Night V. Cipher // Arren Kelvess: are boring
Summoner Night V. Cipher // Arren Kelvess: as fuck
Michelle | Caitlyn: Are no fun
Summoner Night V. Cipher // Arren Kelvess: XD
Michelle | Caitlyn: LOL
Michelle | Caitlyn: AHAHA
Michelle | Caitlyn: yess
  #this happened    #off duty    #For reference    #dorks    #are the best kind of people