Thread: ≒ Tit for Tat | League of Legends | HeavenSundered ≓

RE Tit for Tat Krimson HeavenSundered Her abdominal constricted from the teasing brush, as if to escape that finely furred tail, but Katarina gave no outward recognition that she even felt the touch. Her gaze shifted to peer down at the council below, at the sea of faces, each relevant in one way or another. This was the core of Noxus, in this room, power pulsed as surely as a sturdy heartbeat. Noxians fought and killed for a chance to attend a single meeting in these vaulted halls. Here seated not mere soldiers, but every face a champion in their own right, having proven not only their prowess in battle, but equally their ability to maneuver themselves toward the apex of authority. Du Couteau was an ancient house, but even that would have meant nothing if not for the sheer magnitude of forces it maintained. Every one of the Nine had his or her own legions, not just soldiers, but runic mages, spies and ninjas and an entire elaborate information network. The gravity of this meeting could not be overemphasized, a gravity she was unsure whether the ever mischievous fox grasped - it was not Ahri's intelligence she questioned, but the fox was frivolous in applying her wits. Equally likely however, was that the other champion was well aware just how serious this proceeding was...aware, and simply didn't care. Those whispered words affirmed the second possibility, and her gaze almost flickered down, but she trained it forward once more. To look straight ahead, to project the image of power and poise. That was, however, not to say that she couldn't see everything in her periphery vision. Even with her chin tilted in that ever arrogant fashion, swirling viridians took in Ahri's enticing display. The image blurred on account of it being the edge of her periphery vision, but that blurriness added only an illusory touch. Casting the temptress in a dream-like light, oddly fitting - this whole encounter was ridiculous. If not for the cool touch of runestone at her fingertips, Katarina would have surely thought that she was inside a dream...an arguably pleasant, lurid dream. Only reality wasn't quite so forgiving. Ahri spoke still, the volume low, nearly drowned out by Keiran's continued speech, but not missed upon the assassin's trained hearing. Something flickered through those gleaming emeralds the fox wouldn't catch it from her angle, but that first fleeting glint of lust was present nevertheless. A vivid image recalled, painted by nothing more than that ever alluring voice. Imbuing her with baser desires - to throw the insolent fox down, to fill every single one of her holes, to bite and mark her until the mischievous champion was begging for her mercy. Her throat shifted, swallowing even as lithe fingers danced along her thighs, settling upon her belt. Her fingers twitched against the stone she considered trying to pry the fox away with force, but concluded that was probably a poor idea. Ahri held the advantage here, and she knew it too, any physical resistance on her part would likely only make the shenanigans going on beneath her dais all the more obvious. And that, she couldn't afford. Keiran finally concluded his pretty words, having rather successfully riled up the council below. The climate rift for war Demacia, after all, was as different from Noxus as day and night, and the conflict between the two nations oft interrupted, but never entirely ceased. Katarina flickered her gaze to the right, then to the left again, studying each of the Nine. She held her tongue, for now it was unwise to so openly support or oppose the young Darkwill. House Du Couteau did not flourish for this long without some semblance of neutrality, of tact. Plus, if she was not wrong... A moving speech, the plate-clad man a platform away from Swain spoke first. Darius managed only barely to conceal the sarcasm from his voice, his chiseled jaw hiding the hint of a smirk. Shall we rally for war then? His own penchant for shedding blood obvious, but Katarina paid less attention to him and more to the silent tactician - she knew well that Darius was nothing more than Swain's mouthpiece. What were they planning? A voice three seats from her left interjected, laughing melodiously amid all the cacophony. So very hasty...aren't we forgetting the last two rune wars? I'm all for righting a wrong, but how about we ascertain that this was indeed an enemy attack first. An accusation in the woman's voice, barely veiled. What are you implying, Carmen del Cierre. A gruff voice seats away from Darius interjected, the bearded man putting his meaty hand down upon his dais, earning nothing more than a roll of the elegant noblewoman's eyes. Oh, I'm not implying anything Merely that perhaps you should spend more time sharpening your eyes than your axes, Bjore LaVile. Mockery all but seeped from her voice. Meanwhile, the two seated most closely to Keiran, Katarina and Swain, both seemed content to remain silent. To let the dogs fight it out among themselves. Outwardly, the flame haired assassin was still the very image of dignity and strength, but her mind was decidedly less calm. Was Ahri really going to...? All the way...? Should those deft fingers finish toying with her belt, the fox would no doubt find the assassin dressed as she always did underneath those sinfully tight leather pants - entirely bare. It was only practical, after all, skintight leather was horrendous at hiding any panty-lines. An arguably practical consideration that was coming to bite her in the behind. Completely groomed as she was, nothing stood between her and the naughty vixen, a vulnerability that heightened the unease she felt. Something she couldn't admit to hating - the evidence of her indulgence moistening her nethers with the first hints of dew, even without so much as being touched. But dread was a far more accurate account of her turbulent mind. If Ahri sought to embarrass her...well, she simply had far too much arsenal at her disposal.