Hi! I want to apologize for all of the people who are probably wondering why I'm not updating my other stories... The excuse is standard: I just really needed a break and my internet connection is spotty at best. I'm going to be getting back into writing for the season, so expect an update or two. For now, here's a tidbit I pumped out a while ago, hope you enjoy! R&R and have a lovely evening!

"Pleased to meet you."

That's how most people first meet me: an arid greeting from a similarly wispy mind. Summoners and Champions of the League alike think I am whimsical and mostly insane. They think I am outgoing.

They think I am nice.

How foolish.

The lore that was written for me states that Bandle City "couldn't keep up" with my imagination. Truthfully, I am a cynic, and find most people painfully boring. Not to mention intolerant, narrow-minded, lazy… I could go on, but I think you get the idea. People are a drag, Noxians, Demacians, Meglings, Yordles, Ionians… all are the same. No one accepts those who are different. Look at poor Cassiopeia from Noxus for instance. The most beautiful girl in the land and smart to boot. One mistake on her part turned her into a gorgon and what happens? Everyone shuns her immediately. Now the only place that accepts her is the League, a troupe of murderous mercenaries making money off of publicity and Hextech technology.

Alas, who am I to talk? I'm exactly the same. Well, Pix and I, I suppose. We work together as an inseparable team to crush dreams and turn monsters into cuddly forest creatures. I try to help out whatever silly Marksman I get paired with, but the lot of them tends to be overaggressive fools desperate for gold and kills. I say, "Focus the towers; objectives win games." What do they do? Chase a fed Kha'zix into the jungle, where the rest of his team is waiting to slaughter them for assist money. (I like that Kha fellow; he tastes like purple.)

Well, I'm sure you're waiting around for an actual story, so I guess I had better get started.

"Role call! Anyone who's not busy needs to get to the Champion Selection Lobby right away! Lulu, don't give me that look, you can play with Pix later."

Hooded idiot, I just woke up. This is my natural face. I stretched and lifted my hat with one hand, brushing my hair out with the other. Pix tinkled quietly in approval. I loved the faerie to death, but he wouldn't know 'sleep deprived' from 'glamorous' if it smacked him across Summoner's Rift with a badminton racket. I picked up my staff and straddled it, floating off towards the Lobby. Free week had just shifted, so there was sure to be some role battles among Summoners. Most people fought over Marksmen, but since the release of a new Tank, top lane had been busiest. Sidling into place, I was forced to brush off the judgmental glances from the "normal" Yordles. Teemo and Tristana giggled together, pointing at Veigar and Amumu... and myself. Okay, so Amumu was an emotionally distraught mummy and Veigar was straight up "EBIL!"... but me? My only crime was being archaic, having disappeared into the Faerie Glade for a few centuries.

Whatever. I breathed on my nails and admired them; Pix glittered in silence.

"Excuse me... are you the Support I'm laning with? Lulu, right?" I looked up at the gangly boy my Summoner's partner chose. An unfamiliar face? How rare. He was of average height and seemed to be unarmed. No magic bow, no guns, no mage's book or anything. Clothed in worn brown adventurer's garb, his blond hair bristled in a halo around his goggles. He smiled down at me with optimistic blue eyes and a goofy grin. Perhaps he was the sort of idiot I could steal few kills from? I plastered my bubbly grin to my face and blinked up at the boy.

"Pleased to meet you."

He chuckled lightheartedly, "Indeed it is. I'm Ezreal... the 'Prodigal Explorer', if you want the full title."

"Lulu the Fae Sorceress. Tell me, Explorer, are you friends with many squirrels?" Milk the insanity card early, I always say. It makes them want to take care of you. Then, when they have the enemy team down to one-hundred health, throw a Glitterlance and get a pentakill. Well, that was the plan. I was still waiting for a Marksman dumb enough to fall for it. I watched Pix cross his fingers out of the corner of my eye, giving me a hopeful grin. I nodded minutely in response. However, instead of this boy snickering or rolling his eyes at my quirks, he rubbed his chin and gazed off into the distance.

"Can't say that I am... I spend most of my time alone in the wilderness, drawing maps and finding relics and such."

A drum-beat sounded deeply in the distance. The match was starting. Ezreal gestured over his shoulder with a pleasant smile and began to walk towards the Blue Team fountain. I followed, still unsure of how this Marksman would fare and somewhere, a tiny part of me wondered if he'd treat me the same way everyone else did.

"Welcome to Summoner's Rift!" The elegant announcer's voice rang out across the field. I picked up my wards and support biscuits from the ancient shopkeeper, who smiled at my Marksman. Ezreal was busily weighing the differences between a Doran's Blade or a Blue Crystal. The shopkeeper raised a conspiratorial hand and leaned forward to whisper to me.

"Maybe this one will work out for you, eh Miss Lulu?" He winked. A faint purple tinged my cheeks as I blushed. This silly old man—who was one of my few acquaintances—had been trying to get me hitched to a Marksman since I joined. He would always cackle madly and give me best wishes at the beginning of every match with a new partner.

Not happening. I stuck my tongue at him and swiped an extra ward before skipping off into lane with Pix in tow. I gritted my teeth and grumbled. A voice called out after me.

"Hey! Lulu, wait up!"

I turned just in time to see my klutzy companion... teleport?

Eep!

"Sorry about that..." The Prodigal Explorer smiled bashfully and lifted himself off of me. I lay on the ground in a daze. He reached down to help me up, "I wasn't expecting you to stop." He straightened my hat and I continued to stare up at him blankly. What was this grinning fool playing at?

"If you don't mind me asking," I murmured, "what exactly are your abilities?"

His eyes widened, "You don't know? Well, it can't be helped—I am pretty new. Well let's see, my passive is Rising Spell Force-"

"No no," I cut him off, "what did you just do?"

He shrugged impassively, "Arcane Shifted. Really basic teleportation."

"Mm." Interesting. I nodded at him and then continued down the lane. "Well I'm going to ward the river. Don't face-check any bushes, all right? I don't have my shield up yet." He smiled and nodded then leaned against the outer turret. I scampered up to the river bush and tossed a ward in. Nobody yet. Well, that was good. I looked back at Ezreal to make sure he wasn't doing anything risky. He was clicking around some device on his glove. I continued out and warded the wall bushes.

"Lulu!" Ezreal leaped up.

Vision had revealed Varus and Soraka. They hissed and threw their abilities at me as I attempted to run. Varus shouted after me.

"Scared, little faerie?"

I Glitterlanced him over my shoulder to slow him. Soraka brought down stars on me and I winced at the burn. My health was low. My vision began to blur.

"Lulu!" Ezreal teleported behind me and shot what appeared to be small bolts of electricity at Varus and Soraka. "Get away from my support." There was a sudden flash and we all leveled up. I turned to shield Ezreal just as Varus raised his Q... and shot me.

"A blue team ally has been slain." The announcer was as blunt as ever as the arrow slipped between my ribs, draining the last sliver of my health and making my vision go dark. I heard grunts of exertion as Ezreal Arcane Shifted away and shot over his shoulder.

Death is very different in the League. It doesn't really hurt, so to speak, but it is mildly uncomfortable. For a few seconds, you can't breathe. You can hear what was going on at the battle you failed in, but you also hear the fountain slowly filling your corpse with health. Suddenly, you materialize at base and start again. It gets worse every time you die within a match, but that's what supports are for, right? To sacrifice themselves to feed the Marksman?

I opened my eyes and stared down the lane. In the distance, I could see Ezreal hitting minions and attempting to avoid Varus's Hail of Arrows. I looked up at the King's Turret that towered over me in awesome glory and pondered again.

That's what supports are for, right?

"Try not feed next time, okay Lulu?"

"Learn to use your shields more effectively, maybe."

"Or use Wild Growth on the person who actually does damage!"

"Ahah! Good one!"

Vi and Akali laughed raucously as they walked away, shrugging off the embarrassing loss we just suffered. I sighed, turning their aggression into more fuel for my cynicism. Pix patted my cheek in sympathy and we made to leave the Lobby for the nightly patch. My foot was nearly on the threshold when I heard a voice.

"Hey, you didn't do that bad."

I turned to face this boy whom I had just met...whom I had just failed, with a false smile, "Don't worry about me! I didn't even realize my mistake!" I blinked and feigned my ignorance in the hope that he might leave me alone... I was painfully late to where I needed to be. He patted the top of my hat and crouched down on one knee to look me in the eye.

"You didn't feed... and your shields were good. Vi and Akali are just high-damage elitists."

"I-I really am fine..." I insisted. So very late... needed to go now!

"Okay, fine... Well, see you around little faerie." The Explorer ruffled my bangs and then did something I would never expect...

He kissed my hand.

"W-what!" I squeaked in surprise but he had already shifted away, disappearing into the smudge of night. I looked at my pudgy hand; it was still warm from the brief contact. Pix tinkled curiously. I jerked my head back and forth and cast Whimsy on myself to make it back to the Glade in time to catch a few Zs. Pix and I howled at the moon and the warm Valoran night air brushed across our faces. Surrounded by glitter and fireflies, you'd never think I was miserable with my entire existence.

"Lady Lulu, are you ready to depart for the League today?"

The sleep fogged my mind and I made the mistake of yawning widely. Pix dumped glitter into my mouth, chittering with glee when I coughed. I growled under my breath and burrowed deeper in the meadow grass.

"Five more minutes."

"You are already late. The magic has rejuvenated you, so there is no fear in leaving the Glade."

"I'm...not afraid." I sat up, brushing fingers through my lengthy hair. The bristly moss always had a bad habit of sticking everywhere it shouldn't and—though they were marvelous with shoes—fae were not particularly abundant in hairbrushes. Am I avoiding the subject? Yes. You don't need to know anything about Glade magic and my rejuvenation needs. Shoo.

Anti-information aside, I was going to be late again. The League couldn't claim they were revamping my abilities, so I had to haul butt fast. I cast a double Whimsy and Pix hurried to keep up. Fortunately, traffic was light and I made it just in time for the patch to end. I grabbed a biscuit and some Poro Snax and headed for the ARAM transporter. The Howling Abyss was never very busy this early, so it was a good place to relax before being summoned. On my way there, I was stopped by a Lobby Guard, who handed me a bundle of familiar clothes and a small bag of makeup.

"What's all this for?" I asked, attempting to hide my venomous feelings in a sugary voice.

"You're up for the first match, dressed as Wicked Lulu. You have some time though because one of the Summoner's has a poor connection." He chuckled warmly, "We all know how much you love to feed the poros, Miss Lulu." He walked away, still chuckling. I denied the desire to throw something at the back of his thick skull. That would kind of ruin my image, you know. I sighed and headed for the nearest bathroom. Minutes later, I was free to go to the Howling Abyss. The transporter was quite luxurious, gilded with Demacian gold and draped with Ionian silk. It was designed by Lux, of course, who was pretty good with the whole decorating thing. It was a reward for a particularly spectacular pentakill.

The brisk, freezing air of the Howling Abyss was a slap in the face, but the promise of fuzzy, adorable poros was hardly something to resist. As I hiked up the outer stairs, the sound of a Nexus eruption crackled overhead. Cheers and groans alike flitted through the air and as I reached the top of the stairs, a group of Champions began their descent past me. An oblivious Garen eager to make it back to the warm Lobby knocked me against the wall by mistake; I let out a small squeak.

"Lulu? Is that you?"

"Who else would it be?" I snapped before I could catch myself. Embarrassed, I looked up at the person speaking. It was Ezreal. He seemed concerned. I backpedaled immediately.

"Oh sorry! I thought you said something...else..." I finished lamely. I bit my lip as I felt my face grow hot. Pix flittered around me, straightening my hair. I picked up the Poro Snax gingerly. Ezreal cocked his head, a smile forming on his lips.

"Well... all right, but tell me: what's with the get-up? You look different from yesterday."

"Yeah, I have a match coming up and I'm in my 'Wicked Lulu' skin... it's kind of silly."

"I think it suits you."

My gaze shot up, "What?" The adventurer shrugged.

"It just makes you more mysterious. Maybe you're a squirrel-loving fae sorceress..." he suddenly leaned down to poke me at the base of my neck. "Or maybe you're a forest witch, hoping to ensnare weary travellers!" He stood up again and grinned, placing his hands on his hips. I was momentarily stunned by the bright morning sun glinting on his frost-edged hair and his cheeks, rosy in the Freljord's cold. He was... refreshing, if that was a proper description for a human boy.

"Well...thank you, Mister Explorer." I threw up a distractingly-cutesy wall to throw him off the trail of my thoughts. I decided to chance a curtsy. Maybe he would run away, laughing at the insane Megling girl. He smiled and bowed back.

"My pleasure, Miss Sorceress. See you around—I'm due in the Lobby for a Bot Match."

Again he shifted away before I could respond, and I was left with the huddle of poros who had gathered to watch the strange interaction between the young explorer and the ancient fae.