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She lays coffin-style, dressed in a shirt as if she had just gone to sleep. The grey pallor of her skin, the clean wounds visible under her clothes, and her seemingly un-breathing bosom are evidently.

A static in the background, her voice not a clangor ━ faded, eyelids at a constant strife to stay open. Air that stings her lungs every time she breathes, and frail fingers tracing the peeled off skin on her thigh.

Words akin to shards of mirror, a searing ache in her throat, ❝So.. she speaks. Ha.❞

They didn’t lie when they said ❛shimmer❜ made one lose their mind.

     Her presence has been acknowledged so she feels it appropriate to shift her form completely. The elemental, now in her human skin hovers to sit on the floor next to the bed. Her back leans against it, platinum locks falling wherever it may. Her legs are bent at the knee, tucked sideways and she lays her staff on the ground in front of her. Hands fold gently in her lap and she lays her head back. A sigh, light air whirling about the room.

I have so many followers on this blog what the heck where did you guys all come from. Thank you, though! I’m sorry I’m not super active here, Janna is sort of a side project for me. She’s such a different kind of character, one I’m not used to writing. I should give her more attention,  but I guess I’ll just say this blog is on a semi hiatus? or is semi active. One of those. Whichever makes you feel better, honestly. I’ll try to pop over here a bit more regularly <3

Fiora stood outside, in the back of her manor. A training dummy in front of her, and her rapier in her hand. Sweat trickled down her body as it rolled onto her blue bikini top and her pink shorts. Such clothing helped her stay cool in the hot Demacian summer.

She practiced nearly everyday. For one to stay the best Grandmaster Duelist, one had to have such commitment to their craft. Fiora would often practice for hours on end, sometimes forgetting to eat. It was an actual duty for her servants to remind her to eat dinner, after the doctor had told them to do so. They really did not one to have to treat Fiora for collapsing due to exhaustion again.

Fiora heard the bird, and while it did sound out of the ordinary, she paid it know attention, sans looking at it for a single second.

     They make eye contact and Janna tweets a cheerful song of praise watching the woman. She is exerting herself, sweat shines and sparkles as it rolls across her skin. The spirit tries hard to figure out a way to be useful. Perhaps all she needed was a simple breeze to keep cool while she danced with her sword.

     His mind begins to consider the possibility of catching some of the fish in the river and the merits of sleeping outside against haggling for a room with any straw in the inn when the water rises up and smacks him in the face.

     He falls back, catching himself with his palms, brow furrowed and mouth open. Then it returns to one of his usual scowls as he searches the waters, wondering if some freak miniature geyser had erupted as he had stooped down to drink.

     Nothing. And the water was otherwise empty and clear to the bottom, so no fish had slapped the water at him with its fin. Yasuo looks around. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d run in with some crazed sorcerer, but this doesn’t seem to be the work of magic. He pulls his cloak over his head and drops it onto the grass, leaving him in a faded undershirt.

     He’d rather keep that dry in case of sudden rain. Now he reflects back onto the river, his mind searching for explanations for why nature had decided to spring several pranks on him.

     “I’ve heard the stories of the signs and omens,” he mutters to the air, “but this is just ridiculous.”

“ and what of you ? who will watch over you ? it seems cruel for you to watch one’s shoulder and have no eye cast in return. ” she leans over softly, resting her cheek on the other’s shoulder softly.

     Yasuo has just committed to putting one foot in front of the other, concentrating on the simplicity of those motions, when he notices the change in the atmosphere.

     He does not bother slowing down to ponder the cause of Mother Nature’s change of heart, but he does appreciate the drop in her severity nonetheless. His feet stamp louder on the dirt path. The length of the road wouldn’t become any shorter, however.

     Eventually he makes it out of the mountain path and traverses down a cliff side to where he spots the river sweeping across his path. Now patches of green have begun to appear, and Yasuo heads towards the river banks, eager to appease his thirst.

     Surrounded by the steady sound of trickling water, the wind cannot haunt him here.