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120_minutenTitel: Fields of Justice
Team: Dickinson
Challenge: Hurt/Comfort/Angst - Blutspende/Blutverlust (für mich)
Fandom: League of Legends
Charaktere: Kayle, Morgana
Worte: ~550
Kommentar: Auf Englisch, weil ich das Spiel auf Englisch spiele und es einfach besser geflossen ist. Irgendwie hab ich sowohl Genre als auch Challenge ein bisschen verfehlt, aber die Intention war da. Oder sowas. Und je länger ich mich mit ihr beschäftige, desto weniger mag ich Kayle...
Kayle had often wondered what the worst moment in the arena was for her. Dying would have come to mind first. Dying again and again and again at the hands of different opponents, just to be revived moments late to enter the fight again. Being trapped, knowing there was no chance to survive, left by those who were supposed to fight at her side was another thing. In a life long gone, she had been a general and she still felt the urge to shout at her teammates when something like this happened. But this still wasn’t the worst of moments. She hated waking up. The moment of opening her eyes on the Fields of Justice, of seeing for the first time who would be at her side in this battle, in whom her life would depend. The moment of feeling the pulls of the summoner’s magic, not knowing whether the one who summoned her knew what they were doing. And sometimes they most certainly did not. For a long time she had thought those were the worst moments. Opening her eyes and seeing those whom she never wanted to have by her side standing right next to her. Annie. Katarina. Her sister.
But then again…
She came to the stream while the battle was raging with full force. Garen was down already, she saw from the corner of her eyes. Kennen would survive without her. The small fighter wasn’t badly injured and prone to getting away quickly. She wielded her blade, firing a bolt of red light against the enemy attacking her, making him stumble back a few paces.
And then Morgana screamed.
Kayle felt as if her blood had frozen over. Not necessarily because it pained her that her sister screamed. She was a traitor. A rebel. She had turned against her homeland, had mastered the Dark Arts, to bring her, Kayle, down. She deserved to scream. But some summoners with a strange sense of humour had decided it would help whatever cause they were currently fighting for to have them to be allies. No, it wasn’t the pain of hearing her sister scream. It was the pain of her own conscience.
The Judicator turned. Morgana was surrounded by two enemy champions. Blood gurgled from the deep gashes Warwick had left in her skin. Her right wing hung down, torn and useless. She wouldn’t last long, even though she desperately tried to shield herself. And Kayle knew she could help her. Knew that if she combined her strongest spells, her sister would be out of there, safe and sound, in no time. But Morgana was the evil one. Not worthy of her healing powers. Her flaming blade cut through Warwick, taking what life the previous battle had left him. She saw Kennen turn and attack. But it was too late. By the time the enemies had fled the ferocious attacks from her remaining allies, Morgana was on the ground. Her breath rattled as she propped herself on an elbow with her last strength, looking Kayle directly into the eye. „Not even when I’m on your side?“
Kayle pressed her lips together. Morgana was gone before she could reply. The wind brought a last whispered „hypocrite“ to her ears.
The Judicator turned. Sometimes, justice was a wicked thing.
Liebe Mods, bekomme ich einen League of Legends-tag?
Team: Dickinson
Challenge: Hurt/Comfort/Angst - Blutspende/Blutverlust (für mich)
Fandom: League of Legends
Charaktere: Kayle, Morgana
Worte: ~550
Kommentar: Auf Englisch, weil ich das Spiel auf Englisch spiele und es einfach besser geflossen ist. Irgendwie hab ich sowohl Genre als auch Challenge ein bisschen verfehlt, aber die Intention war da. Oder sowas. Und je länger ich mich mit ihr beschäftige, desto weniger mag ich Kayle...
Kayle had often wondered what the worst moment in the arena was for her. Dying would have come to mind first. Dying again and again and again at the hands of different opponents, just to be revived moments late to enter the fight again. Being trapped, knowing there was no chance to survive, left by those who were supposed to fight at her side was another thing. In a life long gone, she had been a general and she still felt the urge to shout at her teammates when something like this happened. But this still wasn’t the worst of moments. She hated waking up. The moment of opening her eyes on the Fields of Justice, of seeing for the first time who would be at her side in this battle, in whom her life would depend. The moment of feeling the pulls of the summoner’s magic, not knowing whether the one who summoned her knew what they were doing. And sometimes they most certainly did not. For a long time she had thought those were the worst moments. Opening her eyes and seeing those whom she never wanted to have by her side standing right next to her. Annie. Katarina. Her sister.
But then again…
She came to the stream while the battle was raging with full force. Garen was down already, she saw from the corner of her eyes. Kennen would survive without her. The small fighter wasn’t badly injured and prone to getting away quickly. She wielded her blade, firing a bolt of red light against the enemy attacking her, making him stumble back a few paces.
And then Morgana screamed.
Kayle felt as if her blood had frozen over. Not necessarily because it pained her that her sister screamed. She was a traitor. A rebel. She had turned against her homeland, had mastered the Dark Arts, to bring her, Kayle, down. She deserved to scream. But some summoners with a strange sense of humour had decided it would help whatever cause they were currently fighting for to have them to be allies. No, it wasn’t the pain of hearing her sister scream. It was the pain of her own conscience.
The Judicator turned. Morgana was surrounded by two enemy champions. Blood gurgled from the deep gashes Warwick had left in her skin. Her right wing hung down, torn and useless. She wouldn’t last long, even though she desperately tried to shield herself. And Kayle knew she could help her. Knew that if she combined her strongest spells, her sister would be out of there, safe and sound, in no time. But Morgana was the evil one. Not worthy of her healing powers. Her flaming blade cut through Warwick, taking what life the previous battle had left him. She saw Kennen turn and attack. But it was too late. By the time the enemies had fled the ferocious attacks from her remaining allies, Morgana was on the ground. Her breath rattled as she propped herself on an elbow with her last strength, looking Kayle directly into the eye. „Not even when I’m on your side?“
Kayle pressed her lips together. Morgana was gone before she could reply. The wind brought a last whispered „hypocrite“ to her ears.
The Judicator turned. Sometimes, justice was a wicked thing.
Liebe Mods, bekomme ich einen League of Legends-tag?
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Date: 2012-08-31 12:27 pm (UTC)Und den Anfang, was der schlimmste Moment ist, fand ich hochinteressant. Es klingt alles schlimm und wäre alles absolut die richtige Antwort, aber dass es dann an der Seite von Leuten, die man für Feinde hält kämpfen ist... Ist definitiv ne schöne Idee.^^
Gott, ich steh grad irgendwie auf meiner Zunge und kann nicht formulieren aber: Me likes! =)
The moment of feeling the pulls of the summoner’s magic, not knowing whether the one who summoned her knew what they were doing. And sometimes they most certainly did not.
*__*