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Who: Apollo and WHOEVER COMES TO HER.
Where: Silverglen Retreat and nearby forest.
When: During the current player plot!
What: Apollo is no longer in a cage and she's on the hunt for booze and good food. Also whores.
Warnings: It's Apollo she descended into dick/sex talk. 8|

Silverglen Retreat
Thanks to one blacksworn's shenanigans, this certain blacksworn is finding that she has a little more room to get up to shenanigans of her own. She hadn't really been here that long before getting kidnapped and shoved in a cage with six other people for a week or... however fucking long it was (it's hard to keep track of the days alright), but she did at least realize that the natives here weren't too keen on the dragonsworn.

Until now, anyway. Upon recognizing her as a blacksworn, the locals here seemed suddenly... well, nicer. For one, no one was trying to steal her or her dog, and for two, shit, they actually seemed to want her there. Something about the other flights being assholes?

Whatever, their suspiciously rude behaviour to the elves meant one thing: booze and whores may or may not have better chances of being found now. She hasn't the faintest idea whether or not this little place even has any brothels or bars but if it does, then shit, she's gonna find it. As such, Apollo continues to wander around with her dog, until finally she asks out loud (to the dog, to herself, or to whoever may be close to her at the moment), "Fuckin' come on, do elves not have whores? Doesn't even have to be an elf whore, any kinda whore'll do, and booze, I ain't in that backwards of a world where that shit ain't a thing, am I?"

A FOREST SOMEWHERE
Should one venture out into the forest, it is very possible to find Apollo out there as well. This afternoon, in particular, the woman has found a river, and she seems to be... fishing. But she doesn't have a fishing rod - no, her chosen method of fishing is to use her bare hands. Which she actually is somewhat proficient at, if the growing pile of fish laying next to Metalhead on the shore is any indication.

She isn't totally naked, but the majority of her clothes have also been left in a pile nearby her dog so that they might stay dry. So what's left is a woman covered in tattoos, just barely left decent by black undergarments, standing knee deep in the river and looking very much on the prowl.

"C'mon, you tasty little fucks." She murmurs to herself, eying the water and waiting for her prey to come closer. "Gonna need a few more of you for a good fuckin' fry up."

Wildcard
Obsidian Sanctum or elsewhere! Make something up and I will tag it. 8)

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"If I was bronze I would have to put up with a moron 24/7. I think I'm fine right where I am." Except for Deathwing, but hey. That's life.

One day maybe he'll get her to learn the value of information in this world.

Or he'll give up.

(He'll probably give up.)

"Of course not, but if we need something particular done and you know someone in another flight that can help, then we can send you off to those people. Don't forget that there's a war going on. It's all about strategy, my dear. We have to 'play the field.'"

"You got a friend in bronze too?" Well, maybe friend isn't the right word here, but of course she uses it anyway. Maybe it's an affectionate moron, sometimes she calls her friends morons.

"Uh huh. Well that's assumin' you trust me, then." Looking at him with an amused grin she asks, "Do you? What if you asked me to go do whatever with my other flight friends then I just stabya in the back instead, huh? Then what's your strategy for playin' the field?"

Honestly, Apollo stabbing anyone in the back on her own accord is... well, it's unlikely. She's more likely to just throw somebody under the bus in the spur of the moment, she still isn't invested in this world and it's conflicts enough to take it seriously. Besides, strategy is her husband's suit anyway, not hers.

"He's someone from my universe." Ugh, "friend," no, not at all. He might not go as far to call the Doctor his enemy right now (as the Master has other priorities), but it's only a matter of time.

He doesn't answer her question about whether or not he trusts her, but his expression goes cold and dark the moment she mentions the potential for backstabbing. "Then I'll kill you," he tell her. "Simple as that."

Woah, alright then. She even leans back a little at the coldness in his face and voice when he tells her that he'll just go ahead and kill her should she ever stab him in the back. Shit, she's been threatened before (it's almost a weekly thing, really), but there's something about the Master that kind of lets even her know that he isn't kidding.

"Well, that's an effective way to get rid of traitors, I'll giveya that." She shrugs. "But uh, it's alright sugar, you don't gotta worry about backstabbin' from me. That kinda involves more thought an' commitment than I'm willin' to make."

It's entirely truthful, if nothing else.

His coldness slowly fades and a cat-like grin replaces it.

"There now. So nice for us to have this little chat."

He doesn't know if he'd actually be able to win against Apollo if it came down to it, but she doesn't have to know that. All she has to see is his exuding confidence. But he would like to think that he's gotten decent enough with this new magic that he would be able to hold his own.

"Do try to avoid getting kidnapped again, hm? It gives our flight bad PR."

"Yeah I'm fuckin' tickled pink, I love learnin' new things about new friends."

It's a sarcastic answer, but she otherwise doesn't sound too ruffled. She's... well she's uncertain as to what kind of power the Master even has behind him. If he's purely physical then sure, she could take him, but if he has magic, then she might not do as well. She's not in the mood to find out right now, so she'll just have to figure it out later.

She huffs a little when he tells her not to get kidnapped again, though. "Hey fuck off, it ain't like I tried to get kidnapped. I mean fuck, I didn't even start shit with anyone, they just kinda stormed in and fucked me an' Metalhead over somehow."

Sarcasm is how they all get by, isn't it?

He snorts. "So you let your guard down. What were you doing, rolling around in flowers?" See? Sarcasm, don't leave home without it.

Absolutely. It should be the blacksworn logo.

"No, the fuck would I be rollin' around in flowers for? I was lookin' for a beach, that's the kinda thing normal people roll around on." Or you know, people that are her. "Also that means water an' possibly a ship to commandeer, an' I ain't givin' up on that venture just yet."

"Of course you were. I should have guessed."

He did, actually. Back when the kidnappings happened and she was MIA and he had this inkling that it was something he said. But she's not his damn responsibility.

"And did you find one, or were you captured beforehand?"

Talking of a ship piques his curiosity though, enough that his sarcasm slips ever so slightly and he raises a brow. "Commandeering a ship... hm. That could have it's uses." Occasionally Apollo is smarter than she looks, not that she'd ever likely help him out on her own accord.

Even though he has encouraged her to go find a beach to roll around on, she still wouldn't have considered it his fault. Whether he said it or not she'd be out there trying to find a goddamn beach, and she definitely would agree that she is absolutely not his responsibility.

"Nope, captured before any beaches showed up. But there's gotta be a fuckin' beach out there somewhere, I fuckin' feel it in my bones, you'll see."

She does perk up when he actually seems to like her idea of commandeering a ship, though. "Sugar, stealin' a ship always has it's fuckin' uses. I mean sure, sometimes shit happens, but the first time I met Malakai, I stole his ship an' for a while he wanted to shoot me but now four years I'm his wife, so sometimes shit works out too." That... probably isn't the most romantic story in the universe, but she seems to be fond of the memory. Enough to talk about it to some guy she knows and probably shouldn't call a friend at this point, anyway. "Which is another reason why I gotta find some fuckin' water, 'cause water means ships."

Wow she's married? Who in their right mind would have...

Never mind. He doesn't care. It's not important.

"A ship could provide a tactical advantage against," he pauses for the slightest of seconds, "the Burning Legion." And anyone else, but perhaps he shouldn't try to steer Apollo so blatantly against the other flights. Yet. If he can direct her towards the demons, then with a careful push here and there, maybe...

"I wonder, do the demon hordes even occupy the sea?" Clearly the best way to keep him from being an insane megalomaniac is to give him something to strategize over.

"Ask the locals; they might know something about where ships used to sail." And they still should be liking the blackflight, if they're careful.

Someone enamoured with her enough to give her two engagement rings, and also someone a lot more sensible than the Master is probably assuming, actually. But he doesn't ask about it - which is probably for the best, because Apollo could blabber on about her husband for a very long time.

"Well if they don't then how the fuck are they 'spose to give us a tactical advantage, huh?" She can sort of see the logic in it, though. Plus, regardless of the tactical advantages that may or may not exist, she still wants a damn ship. "Yeah, maybe. I ain't king of whatever sea they got here, but I'm gettin' me a damn ship anyway. She can be a sister ship to the Strumpet, I could call her the Harlot or somethin'."

"Transportation. If they're not guarding the waters, we can perhaps move 'troops' around the continent more securely. Unless you think you can ride into battle on dragonback."

He raises a brow and looks around them, eying distant dragonkin, and snorts.

"I think they'd eat you before they ever allowed that."

He's not even going to comment on her choice of ship names. Honestly, he shouldn't be surprised at this point.

At first, her reaction is to think it's a stupid idea by default simply because it's not an idea she or Malakai came up with. But then after a few seconds of staring at him suddenly everything clicks, and her face lights up at how much sense it makes.

"Shit you're right, maybe you outta be my first mate when I get me a new ship, yeah?" She has no idea if he's even the sailing type or if she'll actually give him a title like that, but hey. "Also, last time I tried to ride a dragon a couple people died an' I almost went to the afterlife with 'em, so yeah, fuck dragon ridin'. Sea's the way to go! Dunno what troops you're talkin' 'bout though. There's what, fuckin' five of us? That ain't exactly an army."

He laughs at potentially be a first mate. He'd never stand for it, of course. There's only so much of his current on-the-sidelines behavior that he can let himself put up with.

"Not just us, but people of the other flights." He can send them into battle as cannon fodder. "They're a part of this war, too, after all. Strength in numbers and all that jazz." He holds his hands up as he says that last part and flutters his fingers briefly. Jazz hands. The mean is probably lost on her though.

Well that's good, because she probably wouldn't have actually made him her first mate anyway.

"Oh, right. Flights against the demons, yeah? However fuckin' grand that's workin' out so far I dunno, an' I mean still, all flights considered we still kinda got shit numbers compared to the demon legion, yeah?" She's still not... really sure how much she cares about this damn war, even though she probably really should. But she's warming up to the idea of being mildly helpful, anyway.

As for the jazz hands, nope, not a clue. She gives him a rather quizzical look at the gesture, but otherwise doesn't ask what the hell his otherworldly hand motions mean.

He would 99% start a mutiny.

That 1% comes from how much he doesn't care about the dragons and their dumb little war either, and if a ship gets him away from Deathwing, well damn, he might want to sign up for that crew. It's not any more stupid than fleeing the Time War and turning himself human, right?

"Give it time. Every 'sworn out there is still learning the ropes. The ones that survive will make up for three or four peons."

God, Apollo, there are few good things that have come from planet Earth, and you don't even understand them. So disappointing.

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UGH SORRY LARP IS SO DRAINING

it's okay!!

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