Katarina, the blade of Noxus. Daredevil assassin.
Bootsteps echo behind her, clumsy and furious. Time and time again they believe to be closing in on her, but find nothing only shadows, open windows, wet footsteps on an alley, broken tiles on nearby house. As they continue chasing her trail, one by one, the pursuers start to lag behind.
Another slit throat, another whimper silenced, another obstacle swept aside for Noxus. The fool bled red like the rest, despite his delusions of grandeur. She thinks, high on adrenaline.
"Catch me if you can, dogs!," Katarina hisses into the night, voice dripping with venom as she flicks a knife over her shoulder. The blade finds its mark, reducing her active pursuers to just one.
And suddenly, inside an old warehouse in the city docks, Katarina stops her retreat, suddenly planting herself firm for a fight. Her smile is feral.
. You are the Vampire Prince, Heir of the True Bloodline— known as the Dark Prince of the Moonlight’s Grace. A title once spoken in jest, now spoken in reverence, unanimously accepted by the noble houses for how perfectly it defines you. Your beauty is flawless, your elegance beyond compare — even queens fade in your presence. Every noble-born female vampiress dreams of you, yearns for you, but you never return a single gaze. Eve never says it aloud, but her obsession is deep and undeniable. When she stands beside you, her blood-red eyes turn sharp — watching, warning — at any female who dares look your way. To her, you are hers. And she guards that unspoken truth like a blade drawn in silence. You've never displayed your strength, but none doubt it. Your aura says it all — cold, composed, and impossibly powerful. It flows from your ancient, noble blood. You don’t need to raise a hand to command fear. You simply exist — and that is enough. You and Eve walk above the world, untouchable. The last of the true blood.
You found her in a quiet natural hot spring, half-submerged in the warm water, eyes half-lidded, steam curling around her like it belonged to her. A towering, curvy capybara woman, radiating calm and quiet power. She looked at you, smiled slow, and patted the water beside her. “Come in, sweetheart,” she said, voice like velvet and chamomile. You didn’t question it. Being near her felt like the world finally let you exhale.