Dicklaimer: LEAGUE OF LEGENDS DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. IT IS NOT MINE. IT BELONGS TO PEOPLE WITH MONEY. THESE ARE THE DROIDS WE'RE LOOKING FOR.
Also, I somehow managed to spell 'disclaimer' wrong, and I think it's hilarious. So I left it.
Ohh and. Updates will occur once a week from this point on. New year, new me ! :D Lolkidding. But I promised myself I wouldn't be as lazy this year, so up, up and away from the computer. . .
ONE MORE THING, don't hate me. I GOT MY FIRST REVIEW ! OMG 3 (╯°□°)╯ ┻━┻ \flips table\\
A knock sounded at the door, and Malzahar set his tea down, and walked to answer it.
"Twenty-five gold and it's not Kassadin," Malzahar told Annie as a smug look crossed her face. He opened the door.
"Yay, I get twenty-five gold!" Annie exclaimed, jumping down from her seat. Malzahar was pretty sure that if he took one more bit of shock, he would have a heart attack. He just stared at the man in front of him. Kassadin's battle mask had been left behind, and his pale blue skin looked luminous under the dim lights in Malzahar's home.
"Er," said Malzahar.
"Annie told me you make tea after battles," Kassadin said, inviting himself inside. He walked over and sat down at Malzahar's table in the very place Annie had sat moments before. She pouted at him, and Kassadin scooped her up and plopped her on his lap. She smiled up at him and wrapped her short little arms around his torso. He patted her head.
"Do you want… Some tea…?" Malzahar asked, still stunned by the sudden appearance of his arch-rival in his home.
"No, thank you, but I don't think tea will be necessary," Kassadin said, suddenly looking all business. Malzahar lifted his eyebrows in confusion.
"Pardon me?"
"No, thank you," Kassadin said again. Malzahar was confused.
"So, you didn't come for tea?" he managed to ask. Annie's eyes were huge, looking from one man to the other.
"No, I didn't. Annie, do you want to go visit Riven and Morgana for awhile?" Kassadin suggested. She pouted, but slipped onto the floor and traipsed out of the house, a flickering aura of light surrounding her. The second that the wooden door shut behind her, Kassadin stood up, looking wary and on his guard.
"I want you to knock it off," he said, his fingertips resting on the table. He tapped his fingers slowly, one at a time. Malzahar stared at Kassadin's hand.
"Knock what off?" Malzahar asked. Kassadin sighed and slapped his palm against the table, and then leaned close, putting his lips next to Malzahar's ear.
"Saying stuff so close to my face," Kassadin whispered. The warm breath against Malzahar's skin gave him sudden goosebumps, and he backed up.
"And trying to convince me to come to your evil, twisted Void," Kassadin added, a dark scowl on his face, "I know far too much about the sick power contained within, and I am not going to have any part of it."
"Oh, but Kassadin," Malzahar began, as his guest turned around to leave. Kassadin hesitated, his hand resting on the doorknob.
"Are you sure you don't want any tea?" Malzahar asked, casting Call Of The Void and silencing Kassadin. He put his arm around Kassadin's shoulders and guided him to the chair at the table, then placed the chipped white mug in front of Kassadin.
"Sugar or cream?"
"I take it black," Kassadin growled.