Cozen v. 1: to deceive, win over, or induce to do something by artful coaxing and wheedling or shrewd trickery, 2: to gain by artful coaxing or tricky deception
"You're out late, Scorn of the Moon."
Diana's eyes narrowed.
LeBlanc. One of her least favorite people in the Institute's loud, abrasive, and otherwise infuriating collection of Runeterra's most powerful misfits.
LeBlanc appeared in the moonlight streaming through one of the empty hallway's many windows, pretending to inspect her nails so she could pose provocatively against her staff. Her bizarre outfit would have been more of a distraction had she not know the Deceiver wore it for just that purpose.
Diana didn't slow, continuing down the hall towards her potential opponent. "I have no interest in conversing with you, Deceiver. Find someone else to bother."
The woman made no move to clear Diana's path as the moon champion bore down on her. If anything she seemed to concentrate harder on ignoring the growing possibility of collision.
That was how she wanted to play it? Fine. Diana grasped the moon's power in her arms, ready to shove the intractable mage.
But just before Diana could shove her aside, LeBlanc's form flickered. She didn't so much create a double as split down the middle, each half taking a half step to the side and seamlessly regrowing their missing flesh.
Diana sneered and called the moon's power to her. The mark on her forehead and her eyes shone with silver. She glared, eyes glinting with supernatural light.
"The moon does not suffer such illusions, Deceiver." She followed the true LeBlanc with her gaze as the woman circled her and ignored her wispy imitation. "Did you think a being so powerful, or her avatar, would be so easily lead astray by such paltry mirages?"
LeBlanc's true face leered at her with sunken eyes.
Chains grasped her from behind and Diana lurched backwards. The magical constraints from Leblanc's double snaked around her, forcing her downwards. Diana set her feet, refusing to kneel, and glared defiantly up at LeBlanc.
"One so young could hardly see through all my tricks." LeBlanc's eyes receded in her skull like face, her body stitched together by some tortured combination of surgery and magic, but her demeanor perfectly matched her idle amusement on the Rift to make it all the more disconcerting. "But if you learn one things from this exchange, learn that just because something's an illusion does not make it any less dangerous."
Diana seethed. "I have nothing to learn from you." Summoning more power, she grabbed the conjured chains binding her and pulled. They snapped, flying apart in a shower of magenta sparks. Diana turned and struck down the double a moon-backed backhand before turning back to face LeBlanc.
LeBlanc's met her with a cadaverous grin. "You may want to reconsider that sentiment. Even if I had not bound you with my double, how valuable do you think knowledge is of who can so freely see through my illusions?"
Diana swung at her, but LeBlanc disappeared with an echoing laugh.
Alone in the empty corridor, Diana pursed her lips. The Institute seemed full of such personalities.
Still, it didn't improve her mood. She stalked off toward the practice yard. If hitting things in the moonlight didn't improve her state of mind she didn't know what would.