Don't chase the rabbit...

A hop and a skip would certainly break one's own neck from how thick the fog was. Suffocating and enrapturing, the scent of morning dew mixed with fireweed and lavender, it could only be described as a strange, aromatic combination.

The fog pulled back, and if one took a glimpse, they would see a woman choking. Coughing, wheezing, the patrons all gathered about looking for anyone to help but no one about. A young girl, no more than sixteen years of age, threw away her serving clothing and had just finished donning her magician's garb. One less possible candidate and she had a full house booked? Tonight was most certainly productive. The silken skin, the rosy cheeks, her big innocent eyes were all marred by flickers of anger, of something smouldering and awful in the very core of her soul.

The young girl gave her gloves one last tug, muttering aloud, "La putain will learn to watch her tongue in the next life." She rolled her head and allowed several vials to roll out her sleeve and onto her palm. Creativity was asked for when one was removing competition, but in this case, she had to indulge in a little Kumungu dart frog venom.

No one speaks ill of her beau corbeau and lives to speak again.

Don't chase the rabbit...

The fog parted, allowing one to be able to look into the hole it provided.

"Matron, I have a favor to request of you."

"Mm? You do?" LeBlanc blinked and tilted her head, her face unreadable. "I thought today was a rather stunning success. Everything went-"

"Urgot was killed."

"Ah." LeBlanc's lip rolled downwards for a scarce second, she knew what he was going to ask. "Is it sentimentality?"

"Yes."

At this, LeBlanc raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"He will also aid us in our endeavors."

"But it is sentimental?"

"Yes, it is, Evaine."

LeBlanc chortled, pushing herself off of her seat and sashayed over towards Swain. She stroked his cheek and cooed, "Very well. I will find-"

"No necromancers," Swain interrupted. "He's missing far too much. He already had gangrene set in his flesh, I need something a little more."

"A little more?"

"Yes." Swain reached up and gave Beatrice a gentle scratch under her beak. "Hextech cybernetic augmentation."

LeBlanc's eyes lit up, her lips turned upwards into a small smile of glee. "I should have known better."

There had been no human tests for hextech augmentation, none that survived at the very least.

"Dr. Stanley Pididly is the current scientist I am thinking of hiring."

"Pididly? What of Dr. V-" LeBlanc stopped and shook her head, a purple strand at her feet vibrated the moment she started to ask her question. "Gone into hiding? Unfortunate."

"Indeed."

"Very well. Contact Pididly, book a meeting with him as soon as you can."

"Thank you, Matron."

LeBlanc planted a gentle kiss on Swain's cheekbone, "You're welcome, mon beau corbeau."

Don't chase the rabbit

The fog lifted, a cobbled road spiraled downwards and hung over an abyss. One could peer down into it, and look for something, anything in the choking darkness…

Fourteen years of age, her cheeks flushed, her heart beating. She closed the door behind her with the quietest click. Her parents could not know that she was out past her bedtime, but she could not help it. It was not so much about the money as it was about the ability to showcase her talents. The young girl slowly took off her gloves, her legs wobbling, almost jello, her breath short and quick. It was not fear, she had done this many times before, but tonight was different. A raven was in the crowd tonight.

Tapping with his cane- A cane? No, that would imply he was a geriatric. He was young and lively, full of vigor and masculinity, his hands thick, calloused and strong, his familiar with three pairs of ruby eyes perched patiently on his shoulder. His voice was like a hammer striking hot iron, betraying the gold that rolled off the tongue.

Her bedroom door creaked open, she soundlessly tiptoed inside and closed it behind her. She reached up her sleeve and allowed a napkin to roll out. A napkin! That was all she had, how foolish she must have looked using a napkin of all things! But he took it in stride, his address written, the faint smell of mahogany punctuated by copper wafted upwards. She curled herself up around it, smiling and giggling as she faded to sleep. He asked her, one of the captains of the Noxian military, one of Darkwill's trusted, to come see him so they could look into a scholarship for her. "Jericho…" she crooned as she fell asleep.

Don't chase the rabbit...

A slip was all it took, and one plummeted into the never ending abyss. The darkness swallowed the poor soul, but in those fleeting moments, clarity was had…

"What is this?"

Her agents knelt down before her, LeBlanc's eyes ablaze with fury. "I count two of you when there should be five and a prisoner. Why are there two?"

"He…Matron, y-"

"Is that an excuse?" she snapped. "Are you expecting an excuse will alleviate my mood?"

"He was helped!"

"By who, the gods?" LeBlanc barked a curt laugh at them. "They are dead! Rest assured there is no one else in this world you can pray to short of me, darlings, and there is no such thing as a god anymore."

"Matr-"

"Where is Thorn?" she demanded. "I want to hear his report."

"Thorn was killed, Matron."

LeBlanc's eyes blazed with violet fire. "He. Was. What." She looked over to her right and saw the corpse of Thorn, the magic that had summoned her pulsating from his ring.

"Du Couteau was aided by a summoner-"

"And I can have summoners served by the baker's dozen!" LeBlanc drew in a deep breath, gave the air a gentle pat, and reined herself in. "Thorn should have been able to match Du Couteau. He should have brought me in sooner. Why had he not?"

"We do not know, Matron."

"I see. So the conclusion is that Marcus Du Couteau is missing, yes?"

"Yes."

"And I have not only three agents dead, but one of my absolute best?"

"Yes."

"Well then." LeBlanc gave them a wave, turned about and faced her back to them. "You better go find him. Put Thorn's entire division to it. Leave no stone unturned. If I cannot find Du Couteau, then I will have him hunted to the ends of the earth. I will provide you all with the same boon Thorn had. Dismissed."

They disappeared without a word, leaving LeBlanc alone with the corpses. She knelt down by Thorn's head. "Poor Thorn. You have served me well for so many years…" she cooed. A blade materialized in the Deceiver's hand, and with one deft slice freed Thorn's head from his shoulders. "Let us see what you saw in your last moments, shall we?"

Violet energy danced about her fingertips, her eyes lit up. She sat there for minutes on end until her lips pulled back into a snarl.

"Ashram…"

Don't chase the rabbit...

The abyss ended. There was no ground beneath, but one could walk. Aimlessly through an invisible maze they wandered, a crack would appear and a surge of light would overwhelm them…

(It's a long one)

"What do you think you are doing, LeBlanc?"

Golden heels soundlessly marched out of the shadows, the black tendrils peeling and pulling off from the woman's body as though it were little more than a coat as the deceiver stepped into view. She wore a smile despite her tone resembling the cascade of thousands of broken crystals, "Was I so obvious, Darkwill?"

"Answer my question."

"There's no rush, darling." When LeBlanc spoke the last word, one could almost taste the hate that flew from her lips. "Let's have a drink first, shall we?"