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LoL Ch10 - Visiting the ChemistThe city-state of Zaun can be a dangerous place. Unlike the City of Progress which strives for innovation and technology improvements, Zaun has no goal except to experiment. Many of its streets are polluted with concoctions gone wrong, and just as many moral less scientists.LoL Ch10 - Visiting the Chemist by ~Metagrossfreak
Take Doctor Mundo, who’s efforts to create a super soldier serum transformed him into the bumbling hulk of a man he is now; or Warwick, who accidentally trapped his mind in the body of a werewolf to track down “willing” test subjects. Zaunite streets are no place for a little girl, but when that little girl is Annie Hastur, it is them who should be afraid.
The dark child was on a mission seeking out one of her many friends. She had heard from Blitzcrank that Orianna was visiting Zaun. She also knew that the city-state was not a safe place to roam at night, so once she heard about the trip, she set out.
Zaun's cobblestone streets were dimly lit from the low glow of street lamps. With such emphasis
I want to help you‘Monster’ they called me, ‘nothing but a figment f the imagination.’ Around their campfires and bar stools they laugh at the thought of my glowing red eyes and beating wings chasing travelers in the night. I am not a monster, I do not want to hurt you, all I want is your friendship. I want to help you.I want to help you by ~Metagrossfreak
From my perch, I watch with my crimson eyes as you speed down the highway. You are lost, no landmarks in sight, and you drive frantically in search or your way home. Taking off into the black, I lend my aid. I see paths you do not, the air currents nudge me towards correct forks in the road. With each massive wing beat, a thunderous boom accelerates me toward you.
You see my rubies in your mirror, frightened, you drive faster. Your spinning wheels grind against the worn road, your engine grows louder, roaring in the night. All I want is to guide you home, but instead you fear me, call me an omen. My sleek obsidian down ruffles with the wind as I change direction.
Armillary SphereMany of my distant relatives are German, Irish, or Dutch. To think that only a handful of generations ago, great great grandmothers and great great grandfathers made the intrepid journey to the new world in seek of fortune and freedom. I see my grandmother’s mother looking out to sea on a cold foggy morning. Her parents have bought tickets to ride a behemoth ship to a land of opportunities. The ship warms up, its towering nostrils spew smoke into the sky, like spilled ink on a canvas. She takes the hand of her mother as a strange man in a uniform approaches. Asking for Luisigan, the man smiles when her mother responds. Her mother tells her to grab her bag. My great grandmother looks to the small suitcase beside her. The bag is even older than she is, it’s small, but carries all the belongings she could fit. Lifting the heavy bag, the worn leather exudes a whiff similar to her father’s polished shoes. Still small herself, as she drags the suitcase on board, it scrapesArmillary Sphere by ~Metagrossfreak