It was another sunny day in Santa Monica, California. Birds were chirping, children laughing, and all seemed right with the world. In the busy LA traffic, a lone man, known only as "Morello," drove his rusty clunker of a car to his office at Riot Games. Though a harrowing ordeal, the Lead Content Designer eventually made his way to his reserved parking spot right near the front door.
Not even bothering to lock his junker of a ride, Morello skipped merrily down the sidewalk to open the glass double doors to Riot Games. Grabbing a juice box and some crackers from the vending machine, he made his way to his magnificent office where he could reacquaint himself with his lovely nerf bat once again.
Inserting his key and feeling the familiar "click," of the lock give way as the tumblers moved, Morello saw a strange sight before him. It was Soraka the Starchild leaning against his desk, finishing off a banana from the fruit basket he kept to the side of his desk, near his trusty nerf bat.
"Good Morning Ryan, why don't you have a seat. We need to talk, or rather, you need to listen."
Instead of normal caring tone, Soraka's voice was sterner than usual, like when your mother is disappointed in you for scoring a "D," on your math exam and angry that you haven't cleaned your room at the same time.
"Err, good morning Soraka, what uhhh, brings you to my office today?"
Being awkward around goddesses, and women in general, Morello took to his office chair as he sipped from his juice box.
"Would you like a seat as well? I just got new chairs from Italy, made from the finest leather."
"My knees don't work that way."
Morello lowered his head in shame and sighed. Of course, she had goat legs, why would she be able to sit in a regular chair? Those long nights playing Civ 5 and purposefully excluding Hashinshin were getting to him.
Soraka re-positioned herself so that she was once again facing the man she knew as her mortal enemy, leaning forward with her hands supporting herself on the fine mahogany desk Morello used, making sure her amber eyes locked with his, pressing her freshly polished horn against his hairline, Soraka let her emotions get the better of her as she began her tirade against his tyranny.
"So I see you just couldn't leave well enough alone. I've been fine being a sub-par support for the past two seasons, never getting any buffs or nerfs, just existing in obscurity. Waiting for my time to shine, waiting for a rework, waiting to not be a joke, but no, you just had to go and stick your filthy fingers back in to the cookie jar. You just had to go and nerf me one last time. What a nerf it was too, some of my favorite summoners won't even use me now because I can't do anything but stand there and pray for help. It wasn't enough to remove nearly all of my healing ability, it wasn't enough to remove my ability to protect my allies from magical damage, no you had to go and remove what little damage I was doing and make it so I'd never be able to afford the amount of AP I'd need to even break even with my old self. I just can't even fathom what you were thinking, so PLEASE explain yourself you filthy little man!"
Soraka was starting to tear up out of anger towards her situation. She'd been acting as a mother figure for the rest of the supports who had been unjustly nerfed in anticipation of their new income streams making them somehow better than mages. Janna and Sona were having trouble sleeping at night, Lulu wasn't eating, and Nami was refusing to clean between her scales before bed at night. She'd kept it all in until now, hiding her pain from the others so she could stay strong for them.
Morello cleared his throat several times, taking a reassuring sip from his juice box as he noticed how far back in to his custom leather chair he had sunk.
Before he could even respond to Soraka though, a boyishly haired man with glasses popped in to his office with a stack of papers and a massive grin on his face. It was Ironstylus, one of the lead artists at Riot who had given Soraka her last outfit. With near unbridled exuberance, the bespectacled man began expousing as though having a Starchild in his immediate vicinity was not something out of the ordinary.
"Morello, you'll never guess what I've just done. It's just...SO AMAZING, I...I've figured out how to give Leona MORE ARMOR. Isn't it just wonderful?!"
Clutching a stack of sketches close to his chest, Ironstylus finally took notice of Soraka, who had not taken her eyes off of Morello and was leaning in a rather precarious position over his desk.
"Oh hi there Soraka, were you here to see about getting a new wardrobe, because I've got this great new idea for you that involves an arm-"
"Parrot, I swear if the next words out of your mouth are 'armored bikini' I will ram my hoof so far up your mangina..."
Soraka normally enjoyed the company of the slightly armor obsessed artist, but today was not the day to be trifling with her. She would have to apologize for her rudeness towards him later, but now all she was focused on was making Morello squirm before her.
"My apologies, I see you're busy here, I'll come back later."
With that, Ironstylus excused himself quicker than Amumu in a crowded elevator.
"As you were saying Morello."
Morello took another sip from his nearly empty juice box, it was almost nap time and he had yet to fulfill his 3 juice box quota for the morning. He was also craving tacos and microbrew, but now was not the time for that. He needed to man up and explain himself to Soraka. Crafting a response in his mind, Soraka pressed her horn against him once again and he cracked.
"It..it was all Meddler's idea. I haven't been involved in balance changes in over a year. I mostly just work on getting all the team's to work together towards a common goal now and getting reworks out on time. PLEASE DON'T TURN ME IN TO A DOG!"
Morello was burying his face in his hands, sobbing. He hadn't expected to fall so easily, but when a sharp object is being pressed against your skull and a creature capable of turning you in to a dog is standing before you, your priorities in life become rather clear.
Soraka raised her purple eyebrows in shock. If this were to be true, it was certainly a revelation to her and the rest of the supports.
"So you're saying you don't get a rage boner whenever you see me?"
"Of course not Soraka, I actually like you and want you to be strong. You just can't be right now until we figure out how we can make you better."
Soraka still didn't want to believe the sniveling man before her, but she could see the truth in his heart and smell the urine pooling in his chair. And while it was nice to see Morello cry, Soraka had other problems to deal with if this 'Meddler,' was the one responsible for her current turmoil. then she noticed the nerf bat near Morello's desk. It had begun gathering dust on the handle as though in disuse. Could it be true, was Morello really just a puppet for them to direct their anger towards? A figurehead that held no real power? Of course not, he was still an ass, just not the particular ass she was looking for this time.
Quickly standing up with a renewed sense of purpose, Soraka took Morello's mighty magical-girl Nerf Bat Wand in her hands and stormed out out of his office. She would find this Meddler character, and show him what a true nerfing was.