((Well the pressure is on... Let's see how far I can go...))

At the end of the Institute lays a room, if one was to enter it, one would find a organized room, the giant oak bed lays on one side of the room and on the other end is the wooden table, on the table lays quivers and bows of various sizes and of various materials and also the 31st issue of the journal of justice. Posters are plastered on the walls of the "Great Stand of the Placidium", of the mercenaries and scientists in Zaun, of the Noxian champions that resides in the league. They contradict with the layout of the room for these posters are placed in no specific format nor order, and few of them have been marked, tattered and torn.
In the center of the room sat a pale figure, purple slashed the dark fur and wool that covered his leg and arms, his hair more pale then his skin, his white eyes has no iris, nor pupil and glows with a dark purple shade. No clear emotions can be seen on his face, but the aura that emits from him is clearly one of determination, of hate and of sorrow.

I apologize for my disappearance, but various events have risen to my attention and as such this Q&A session have been put to a halt, but now that I have returned, feel free to ask me any questions that you would like to ask and I will answer them. But just so you know, I would not always be here... Informations are to be gathered and my enemies are not yet slain.

His black corrupted hand forms into the shape of a bow, and the dark energy within slowly converts to the shapes of arrow. With his left hand he grabs the corrupted projectile, which slowly goes back into his hand in the form of muck, His right hand followed soon after, shrinking and folding back into the dark gauntlets that still bear resemblance to the shapes of a human hand.

My arrows always find their marks.

((EDIT: Feel free to interact as you see fit. In letters or in person.))

"Sniper? HAHAHA, don't make me laugh my wife can hit a champion from across the map she's a true sniper."

(( http://na.leagueoflegends.com/board/....php?t=2757820 it's a lot easier to know who you are, only if you want tho))

Varus raises an eyebrow as to that statement.

That may be true,but your wife's dealing is in the element of ice, which is the realms of slows and stuns. Where I deal with snares and immobilization.

Varus continues to describe the word Sniper to Tryndamere who had barged into his room

The word Sniper does not only mean range, it also means precision. My archery does not deal in the same way as Ashe and neither was I trained to be so. A comparison between your wife's frozen arrow with the projectile shot out by Ezreal would be more fitting.

Since what you have spoken out of your tongue is a statement, do you actually have a question?

((Finally a post! Thanks Trynd.))

Sona glides into Varus's room with a pleasant tune radiating from her. She approaches the Ionian Archer with a smile.

♪Greetings Varus,♪ Her melodies played out, ♪It has come to my attention that I haven't actually taken the time to familiarize myself with you, given how often we are paired up together.♪

The overly manly hunk of lego-footwearing meat known as the fat S.O.A.F.B aka Gragas appears in front of Varus with roadrunner squeezed on the neck in his hand and an epic dust trail that simply yells out MANLY. Now there is only one question to ask, and that question is...

Cue suspense... CUE SUSPENSE AS THE UPPER HEAD OF THE MANLY HUNK OF MEAT STARTS TO ELEVATE AND ROTATE IN READINESS OF BOOMBOXING THE QUESTION...

WHAT'S YER BREAKFAST O' CHAMPIONS?