he will sell your soul to the grave [closed to blacksworn]

[beholdthedrums]

Who: The Master, blacksworn
What: The Master's collecting data from his flightmates about who knows who from what flight. And hey, he'll even share the info with everyone! ...if they care. And if they actually tell him anything.
Where: Obsidian Sanctum
When: June 12th I guess lol.
Warnings \o_O/

Note: To make things easier for me, he's having these convos one on one!



Look, none of them are friends, and every one of them has their own agenda. If one of the blacksworn hadn't realized this yet, they were either new, or a moron. But hey, maybe they should at least make use of each other, right? Pool together some semblance of resources to appease their dragon overlord, and continue on their deceitful ways, preferably with other flights first, and each other second.

Sounds reasonable? One can only hope.

So the Master's seeking out his fellow 'sworn, approaching each more or less the same. "For the benefit of everyone living in this lovely firepit, I thought it was high-time we get a tally of our resources; and by resources, I mean people we know in other flights. Ideally ones who we knew before Azeroth, and not new acquaintances. Why? So we know who we can make use of in other flights."

Of course "make use" could be to get help from another flight, or to ruin them from the inside out. It's completely sensible.

Comments

[faultline]

"Before Azeroth."

Her echo betrays her interest; Riven had been ready to let the Master scheme (or, whatever) in peace, but then he just had to go and mention something like that, didn't he? She hesitates to ask it as a question proper. She already dislikes the way his ideas are headed. (Make use of? More like take advantage of...)

Riven clears her throat. "You're not alone here?" She has to know more.

[beholdthedrums]

Always a pleasure to interact with her "delightful" presence.

"Yes." He doesn't see the harm in telling her. "His name is the Doctor. He's part of bronze."

She'd have to try exceptionally hard to use the Doctor against him, as the likelihood of him caring is slim; and he doubts the Doctor would tell her much about him.

[faultline]

"The Doctor. Does everyone only go by titles in your world, not names?"

It sounds odd, but not unheard of. Every champion has their own designation as well, even if they never get used in practice. She has no reason to expect that the Master has no true name besides, once you discount the fact that nothing else seems logical where he's from. "And is he a friend or foe? Only sharing a world doesn't mean much."

[beholdthedrums]

He shrugs. "Not all, but it's a bit of a quirk." Yeah, Gallifrey is weird, alright. Just look at their typical fashion (not that Azeroth is a lot better). "He's..." Normally he wouldn't associate the world "friend" with the Doctor, but in this context he lets it slide. "A bit of both, I suppose." It's Complicated is putting it mildly.

[faultline]

Both. That's an answer that makes her eyebrows go up. Riven purses her lips, unimpressed with the response but also lacking any contribution that would show his up.

Well. "If it's that vague, he could just as easily be a disadvantage... nothing is stopping other flights from making use of us in return."

[beholdthedrums]

The thought of the Doctor destroying the blackflight from the inside out makes him laugh delightfully. Wouldn't that be something!

"No, no, my dear. If anything he'd think he could 'make us better.'" He is named "the Doctor" after all, though the Master is still trying to get a handle on this newer regeneration.

"Besides, I don't believe he'll be a thorn in my side for quite a long while, and even then it won't be a problem." And if it, well, he'll deal with it himself.

[faultline]

The laugh makes her wrinkle her nose. It's a legitimate concern, alright-- nevermind that she knows nothing of the Doctor, to pass that sort of judgement on him.

"You sound so sure of things." Her... not so much. Riven shifts her weight back, folding her arms. No sense in arguing with him on that front, even if she does badly want to disagree. "And has anyone else come forward with a-- 'resource?'"

[beholdthedrums]

"That's because I am." Obviously. He knows how to handle the Doctor, more or less. Maybe not this regeneration quite yet, but he's still the Doctor. How much could that have changed? "No, but to be fair... we are quite spread about. Though Apollo did mention knowing some people in other flights." Sure she didn't mention it so that the Master could use them, but that's besides the point.

[faultline]

"Your confidence will be the death of you. Your deceptions will." The Master's attitude, his plans are getting to her-- Riven's tone is as sharp as her sword and equally unforgiving. She can see how it all unfolds (and most likely in his favor to boot) and, well.

She doesn't like it. She even takes a step forward, unconsciously, not meaning to be this aggressive, but-- "I can only hope it comes sooner than later."

[beholdthedrums]

If it makes her feel any better, his confidence does slip as she approaches him. He slides back a step, but he catches himself and now he's slid into the defenses. Shadow and Fire are at his fingertips before he even thinks about it.

The last thing they should probably do is have a fight within their own sanctum, but he will not let a damn woman push him around. He will attack her if she approaches him further.

"In a rush, dear?" he sneers. "Maybe you should just take me out yourself. Get it over with! The good little dragon soldier."

[faultline]

It does, if only for a moment. Her hands have balled into fists, and she seems right ready to clock the Master there, in the middle of the Sanctum, in front of all the whelps--

She doesn't, if only because there's a part of her chiding the rest. Surion wouldn't appreciate it. And Deathwing-- who's to say what he thinks, really? Riven sees the fire on the Master's hands, and that seals it. She has no desire to make this the hill she dies on.

Today. "You aren't worth the effort," she spits, but it's disingenuous; only half true at best. If Noxus hadn't been filled with his type, if she didn't know where this ended, maybe she could say it in all earnesty.

Her scowl only deepens as she adds on a friendly warning: "Watch your step, Master."

[beholdthedrums]

He snarls and steps back towards her before he catches himself and snuffs out the flames. Part of him is disappointed that she won't fight him, but even he isn't suicidal enough to take her on here and now. He wants to tear her apart but he isn't sure that he'd win.

"You'll wish you had," he sneers at her, spit on his lips. If she does have allies, he'll find them. He'll take them apart and make sure that she knows it's because she refused to work with him in this.