beholdthedrums: [EoT] (in the chill of the night)
The Master ([personal profile] beholdthedrums) wrote in [community profile] warforged2014-05-01 07:08 am

made me a shadow in the shape of wonder [option A blackflight, option B open to all]

Who: The Master, any poor sod who comes across him
What: Messing around different places, getting accustomed to Warlock things, though no demon summons yet.
Where: Obsidian Sanctum, some open field area.
When: May Day. The 1st, afternoon ish.
Warnings: Option A: Poor dining manners. Option B: be aware that he'll likely end up using Drain Soul, completely on accident, on anyone that shows up out of self-preservation to restore what he's lost. So. There's that to keep in mind. Doubtful he'll drain much though.



A. Obsidian Sanctum
Crouching carefully over a bear carcass near a river of lava, the Master appears more irked than anything. He should be scheming, judging ways to turn the black dragonkin away from Deathwing and over to himself, or finding a successful method to steal a dragon egg and use it for other means, or learning more about Deathwing's created weapon. However, common sense dictates otherwise. He hasn't yet understood the extent of these "changes" that have happened to his body yet, as Surion had mentioned, and as much as it pains him, he should try to "play nice" as he had discussed with that blacksworn woman.

He rubs his hands over his head, twitching at his mental percussion.

The Master hates playing subservient. There's a long game to this--a very long game, he's sure, what with his "opponent" being a dragon and all, but that doesn't mean he has to enjoy it.

He claws his hands right past fur and into the bear, little care to eating it raw. His energy's wavered far lower than he cares for, and he will gladly tear through the entire carcass if it helps restore him.



B. Fields

You would think that if someone was going to experiment with magic, they'd focus on live prey, but instead, the Master simply intends to... cause a bit of damage. Far as he's concerned, it's a fitting use of his time, and it's away from the Obsidian Sanctum. He knows that shadow magic is present at his fingertips; he's called it up occasionally on accident several times already, though he's yet to fully let it manifest into a proper spell.

But there's more to what he can do, he just has to understand it. Pick it apart. Study it. Look at all this space he has! Surely he can manage something good? Powerful! He needs to be stronger. His usual tactics won't cut it here.

The fire that lashes away from him is so startling that it's gone in the same instant, burning through the air before it even touches the ground. The Master stares wide-eyed at it, suddenly appreciative that there's no one around to watch his test runs. "Well, this could be interesting," he murmurs, a mad grin breaking out over his face.

He wonders just how much he can do. He spreads his arms and closes his eyes, focusing all he can on fire and destruction.

It's a bit too much of himself that goes into the spell, but he realizes this far too late and the spell escapes from him, mingling with his own energy and searing over the fields in an uncontrollable storm of fire. He immediately recoils on himself, his skeleton visibly flaring as he shudders and collapses to the ground, completely ignoring the aflame field while he tries to stabilize himself.
raggedydoc: (spying on the neighbours)

[personal profile] raggedydoc 2014-05-02 03:56 am (UTC)(link)
The Doctor has been sent out to pick herbs; it is, as the Bronze flight has discovered, pretty much all he's good for, since he refuses to fight against the other dragonflights, or don the strange robe they've decided count as armor, or- well, he's not exactly an obedient soldier at the best of times, let alone right now.

He has, however, got a wand tucked into his belt; he's been experimenting with his powers, and he's discovered that it's easier if he has something to focus his energy with. It's a little amusing, really, and makes him feel like a wizard - he's certainly been called that before by people who didn't understand advanced science, but this is the first time he actually qualifies as one. (Technically, of course, he's a mage - or so he's been told - but there's no real difference, is there?)

He's wrestling with a particularly annoying bit of earthroot at the top of a hill when he notices smoke in the distance, a smudge in the sky just past a copse of trees. If it's the Legion, then he needs to let his dragonflight know so they can muster an attack - and if it's something else, well, maybe he'll be able to handle it on his own.

He makes his way there, peering across the field from behind the safety of a tree trunk, only to spot the Master at the centre of a firestorm - one that flickers out just as suddenly as it popped into existence in the first place. The Doctor steps gingerly out from his cover, then concentrates as he takes another step, managing to blink just far enough - though he stumbles to the ground next to the Master as he does so.
raggedydoc: (insistent)

[personal profile] raggedydoc 2014-05-04 05:39 am (UTC)(link)
"For once, no." Actually, he hasn't crash-landed the TARDIS in quite some time, but doing it at all is likely enough to earn the Master's scorn at his inability to pilot his own ship.

"It's some sort of thing," he adds. "Rudimentary short-range teleportation, as far as I can tell." And he's not especially good at it; this is one of the rare occasions he's managed to go in the direction he's intended. "What do you think you're doing?"
raggedydoc: (soulful puppy eyes)

[personal profile] raggedydoc 2014-05-04 05:56 am (UTC)(link)
"Usually your idea of redecorating outdoors involves putting up statues of yourself," he remarks. "Which, I have to say, is terribly egotistical, even for you. And they weren't even that good." At least have some decent taste in art, Master.

"You're going to kill yourself if you keep on doing that." His voice is lower and quieter now as he switches topics suddenly. "You'll burn yourself out - pun entirely unintended, I assure you - and end up nothing but a lifeless husk."
raggedydoc: (soulful puppy eyes)

[personal profile] raggedydoc 2014-05-05 02:38 am (UTC)(link)
"I'm not scolding you." Except, of course, that he totally is, but that's a minor detail. "I just-"

Oh, god, he's going to end up sounding stupidly sentimental if he continues on like this.

"You need to be careful, Master." His tone isn't quite as pleading as it might have been in his last regeneration, but there's still a hint of it there. Even if they aren't the last two left anymore, there's still a connection between them, as much as the Master would rather deny it.
raggedydoc: (venusian aikido)

[personal profile] raggedydoc 2014-05-05 03:30 am (UTC)(link)
There's a jarring flash of memories as the Master touches him: the red fields of Gallifrey, the smouldering wreckage of the Time War, a great black dragon with a metal jaw. It's distracting enough on its own, but what the Master's doing leaves him staring wide-eyed. He can feel his energy being sapped, and he pulls away at the same time as the Master.

"Don't," he hisses through clenched teeth. Maybe a more forgiving regeneration might let the Master feed off of him in order to keep him alive, but this Doctor feels violated, and he resolves to never let it happen again. "Just- don't do that. Ever again."

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irritating: (✖ -- repeat yesterday's mistakes)

obsidian sanctum

[personal profile] irritating 2014-05-03 04:25 pm (UTC)(link)
Apollo hasn't exactly been here long. Actually she had just gotten here today, and she hadn't really listened to anything anyone had said, so now she's just sort of stomping around through the sanctum with her overly large dog (and now 'hunter companion') sniffing his way across the terrain with her, annoyed and pointedly ignoring any and all dragons she may pass.

A man eating a raw bear with his bare hands does, however, make her stop for a bit.

"Uh, so you're just gonna eat that thing raw?" As Apollo talks, Metalhead sniffs his way closer to the bear carcass, not at all bothered that it apparently already belongs to someone else. "Not even gonna bother to try cookin' it? Even though you're literally fuckin' surrounded by fire?"
irritating: you realized she had a dick (✖ -- uh huh so was that before or after)

[personal profile] irritating 2014-05-04 02:11 am (UTC)(link)
Clearly the glare does nothing to deter her, because she's still standing there staring at him and his interesting choice of food. Metalhead sniffs his way right up to the bear but stops before his nose touches it, seeming to understand that it's been claimed already but still being nosy about it all the same.

"An' the finer juices are what, exactly?" The blood doesn't seem to bother her either. Really, out of everything in front of her she's just curious as to why there aren't more cooked bear steaks involved. "Blood an' whatever?"
irritating: (✖ -- fine i won't steal it)

[personal profile] irritating 2014-05-04 02:45 am (UTC)(link)
The dog wastes no time in snatching up the chunk of meat and swallowing it in one big gulp. Apollo notices the gesture and frowns a little, but otherwise she doesn't say anything about it.

"Uh, dragons are big dumb fucks who shovel livin' beings into their faces regardless of whether or not they're still screechin', so yeah, kinda thinkin' he skips on the seasonin' too." Well, clearly someone here doesn't dragons. That's probably something she should learn to not mention, but the new surroundings and situation have yet to really sink in. "Yeah, I'm a new one. You ain't?"
irritating: (✗ -- let em wonder)

[personal profile] irritating 2014-05-04 03:38 am (UTC)(link)
"'Most of us' bein' offworlders, I'm guessin'? How many were there? An' was there just the one group?"

Well, here we go. She's started with the ten million questions, and she's going to now take the liberty to seat herself on a rock nearby, regardless of whether or not the Master wants company. "By fireworks d'you mean crazy shit with battlin' dragons an' whatever? They're uh, at dragon war or some shit, yeah?"
irritating: (✗ -- well i just keep on falling)

[personal profile] irritating 2014-05-04 04:28 am (UTC)(link)
"Dragon Mage? That mean he's a dragon too?" Nope, Surion she's missed. Well, she's missed a lot of things really, which is why she has so many questions and opinions that no one's asked for now.

"Ugh, wow, fuck both o' those things." Now that she's sitting down, she takes the moment to stretch a little, cracking a few kinks out of her limbs and losing a wayward feather in the quick stretch and flap of her little wings before tucking them back in. Then she just sighs overdramatically. "Another fuckin' war I ain't interested in, yet drafted to fight anyway. Fuckin' perfect. Part of me wants to say hey at least this world's warm but fuckin' look at this." She gestures vaguely to the scenery around them. "Volcano and lava shit, the fuck is this?"

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miscreant: ({ i'll keep you alive; ❄)

B. no worries she has no soul to suck

[personal profile] miscreant 2014-05-05 08:33 am (UTC)(link)
The undead and fire don't mix well. Seviilia is out and about for no particular reason other than to put as much distance between her and Deathwing as possible. She has the benefit of hindsight, after watching him break Azeroth apart far in the future -- but she also understands that speaking up about it will likely only put her in far more danger than she could combat. Thus, she says nothing of it.

It wasn't as if she had much time to say anything about it, but that was another matter entirely.

The wall of fire that suddenly covers the field puts her on even higher alert, axes ripped off her back as she darts out of the way -- far too fast for someone weighed down by so much armor. It isn't green fire (demon fire), but that doesn't mean she's prepared to stand in it. The black of her armor stands out on the sky and the warm storm suddenly engulfing it, leave a black figure dancing backwards until she's a safe distance -- and by proxy, just a few feet away from the huddled form of the warlock who started it.

All he earns is a light glare before it lapses into something most unimpressed.

"I do hope you were not aiming for anything," she remarks, low and vibrating. "But, in hindsight, perhaps you should consider it in the future."
Edited 2014-05-05 08:33 (UTC)
miscreant: ({ the scars will remain; ❄)

[personal profile] miscreant 2014-05-05 07:32 pm (UTC)(link)
"I would not recommend it, considering your position," the elf answers smoothly, relaxing her grip on her axes. She doesn't bother offering to help him up. That would be polite. She's more interested in seeing how weak he really is.

Its no fun picking on a bird with a wounded wing after all.

"What brings a warlock out here by himself, hm?"

He obviously wasn't of the Legion -- these times were before the time of humans, even before her people (though not much more). Even if he was, Seviilia imagined they would have killed him before he got very far away from them.
Edited 2014-05-05 19:32 (UTC)
miscreant: ({ leave me here forever; ❄)

[personal profile] miscreant 2014-05-05 08:31 pm (UTC)(link)
Her head cocks to the side in a bird-like manner, hypothermic lips drawing to a thin line of amusement. "I wonder where that might be," she muses aloud, glancing to her left and right as if said residence might appear out of the ground before appraising him again.

"You are Dragonsworn, yes?"

She doesn't bother asking which flight -- it doesn't really matter to her.
Edited (noticing typos 10 hours later) 2014-05-06 07:09 (UTC)