"You’ve…certainly acquired a flowery tongue today. I suppose it has been awhile since I’ve been in Zaun….Very well. Though what sort of muse you would require is a curious thing. I’ll acquiesce for respect to your work as a colleague.
The acid rains of Zaun indeed are like no other as you say after all..
"Well. It’s true that my words can be as caustic as my poisons. It doesn’t mean that I will be like this with everyone. Some peoples are good… Interesting enough for me to behave in a good way."
Was it a compliment, with a voice as cold ? It was kind of twisted, but what could you expected from someone labelled as mad by the whole world…At the mention of the acid rains, Singed turn his face to the sky. For him, he didn’t even feel it now. For others, it was some kind of warm rain. It wasn’t strong enough to burn you, but you can feel it. It could change a bit the colour of your hair, or even your skin, if you stayed too long. Hence, the particular colours of Zaunite. Red, pink, violet, green… The chemist looked back at Sona and her long blue hairs…
"Wait a second."
He walked a bit aside and took a rusty iron bar from a side road. A vial jumped in his hand and he popped the wax-sealed corks with a flick of his thumb, putting the head on the bar extremity. A gas came out, solidifying in a black membrane as Singed was turning the iron bar. Thirty second later, he was back to the musician with an home-made umbrella… He raised it in order to protect her.
"Science. As I said, you already give me new inspirations. Should we go ?"
What a strange duo. The tall mad chemist and the maven of the string, walking under the same umbrella. The Zaunite was pointing everywhere with his free hand, explaining some fumes, giving explanations for the eclectic architecture. Here was a famous drug maker, here some kind of musician who thrive to power up his sounds. This colour was made by a curious alchemy between two Zaunite birds. Some kind of weird mix between a raven and a robin.
But sometimes, as song is better than a description.
And this is the sound of Zaun in my opinion.
There wasn’t much that could surprise Sona anymore than the situation had. Here walked a protege of a Zaunite war criminal, whose creation now shielded an Ionian from toxins of Zaun’s making as it rained down. It was almost hilarious.
And there they were still weaving through the architecture of Zaun The dark shapes leaned over them. Archways like mechanical ribs jutting out, and the rain creeping through each crack. It wasn’t all dark, the iridescent shine of the puddles brought a host of colors. This warm smothering feeling was somehow a little comforting, but broken by recollections of how many environmental safety laws the rainwater alone breaks.
Even now Sona could still feel the slight sensation of the rain, slowly drying away in veined trails across the skin. The practicality of his throwing away the ability to feel was beginning to seem reasonable even out of battle.
Still the gravely voice that droned on served to accompany of fingers absentmindedly playing in thought. Sociopaths and madmen…Funny the company a tune attracts. To varying degree of homicidal of course.
As a girl, monsters took shapes of man in a torn Ionia. Yet once taken in Demacia she had replaced beasts with humans. Distance had brought wider views and less emotion, despite her heart remaining in the homeland.
Regardless of any personal preconceptions, in the name of professional courtesy she’d listen. Furtive glances at the chemist punctuated a curious welling of ideas in her head. Another ulterior motive perhaps? People had a habit of shoving her benefit of the doubt towards humanity off careening into the void.
Despite this consideration her face remained placid as usual, just as time and time before had proven to be best.