(WIP) - Sympathy for the Teemo

QueenDonger

So I admit, the name is inspired by the song by the Rolling Stones.  I've had it on repeat today and since I absolutely adore playing Yordle champions for some bizarre reason (Heimerdinger Main), it felt fitting that I dive into the most notable Yordle that came to mind while listening to the song.

Yes.  That Yordle.  Teemo.  Specifically a conversation between the 'default' Teemo and the Little-Devil Teemo who's come from his realm, hoping to sway the Teemo of this realm into serving him.  It's just a matter of figuring out what Teemo wants most.

Sympathy for the Teemo

(First Draft)

Bandle City had once been mine to call a place of refuge, a sanctuary. Long before he'd spoken to me, that felt as if it was no longer the case. Nowhere felt safe to me. Not Ionia, not Noxus, not Demacia, not even Shurima or the Shadow Isles. I would've welcomed life on the Isles to escape this kind of torment.

It was not a torture I was used to. Sure, the sounds of combat that switched me into the other Teemo? I expected them. I could anticipate, even if I could not stop them. This....was he a Yordle, like me? He looked like me. He sounded like me. It was almost like a reflection.

Almost.

“You understand, don't you?” He said, his bubbly tone contrasting in a peculiar way with the grim firelight smouldering in his eyes.

“You're...me?"

“In a manner of speaking, yes. There is many Teemo's. I happen to be one with a lot more power.”

“The Scout's Co-”

“Forget the Scout's Code, Teemo. I'm beyond it. I'm beyond you, Bandle City or even all of Runeterra's understanding. I didn't get this crown by being popular. Hatred is part of what I must endure. You know it all too well, don't you?”

I winced. The memory was long ago but never healed. As I'd returned to my home, Yordles I thought my friends and compatriots turned on me, shunning me for my 'crimes' in the war. Through it all, only one stayed by my side. Only one showed loyalty when many others spat at me and cursed my name as repayment for doing what nobody else was willing.

“What about Tristana?”

“She wouldn't be interested in you, Teemo. Besides, you don't want to Rumble with Rumble.”

The fire-cloaked Teemo chuckled merrily at his joke.

“So, I would become...like you?"

“If you want to be specific, you would become me. Just another me but...bigger.”

“Why? Why me? Why not one of the other ones? You say you can cross to other Bandle City's. Other Runeterra's.”

“Because the time has come for this particular one. The mist crawls closer and as it crosses the Rift, I must be prepared. Trust me.”

Being told to trust him did not do a great deal to instil in me that this Yordle...devil...me, was someone I would not come to regret trusting. He spoke too smoothly, stared too intensely, moved too surely.

“No. It's against the Code for me to turn against my own like that.”

“They're not your own, you buffoon!” The Red-Teemo shouted, his voice taking on an air of great, but also terrible power and...something else. He quickly regained his composure. “They treat you so horribly and for what? Protecting them? Protecting your kin? How many died at your hands, Teemo?"

I felt a shiver of cold that the heat from Red-Teemo's fiery crown did little to abate. “Too many.”

“How many more do you think would have died if your hands had remained idle?”

“I don't know. Why do you need my help anyway? Are you incontinent? Can't you handle it yourself?” Maybe I could steer him away from that line of questioning. I couldn't...those thoughts were dangerous. As much to myself as to others.

“Ugh. Incompetent. Not incontinent, Teemo. That means...” He sighed in exasperation. “Just...just ask Garen when you see him on Summoner's Rift next. Trust me, he'll know.” He giggled, his high-pitched voice sounding deceptively innocent.

“Ok, then. Are you incompetent?”

“Please, Teemo. Have some sympathy. My work is necessary, as is yours. Also like yours, it is far from easy. It's not as if I intend to make you work for free. Two Yordles walking away with one having made a bargain and the other merely thinking he has, that's an ideal trade. The only thing better is when both Yordles get exactly what they want.” He leaned in, a smile spreading across his face like wildfire.

“What is it you desire? What would it take for you to serve me, just for as long as the mist is on the Rift?”

A shadow veiled my thoughts as the familiar misery made a return. Tristana would only see me as a friend. I could bear that, even seeing Rumble wooing her as I stay silent, my only moment of cowardice torturing me for the rest of my life. So long as she was happy.

The others though...what had they ever done to make me feel I belonged here? I was just as much cold-blooded murderer as this Red-Teemo to them.

“Well? What do you want?” He pressed, the firelight in his gaze glowing, like coals in the wilderness as a wind blows fiercely over them.

“I want...sympathy."

“Truly the best kind of deal. We both want the same thing. Come with me. You will never again feel helpless or weak. I'll see every champion in Runeterra gaze upon you in fear, knowing you will be the last thing they see. I'll make you strong. Give you servants who will do your bidding. I'll make you a God. Do we have a deal?”

“...We do.”

“They'll feel so much sympathy...it will make them feel as if they've been blinded by it.”

His voice took on a strange echo, as if multiple Red-Teemo's were speaking at the same time. I felt the full impact of what I was offering myself for and immediately, although far too late, I realised I had made a grave mistake.

When making a deal with the devil, the only way to walk away with a bargain is to never make one.

I finally understood this as his echoing, eerie voice rang in my ears, speaking those same two words for a third time.

“Trust me...”