[OPEN] The Redsworn Reception

[guerriera]

Who: The Redsworn of Ruby Sanctum + Guests [OPEN TO ALL FLIGHTS]
What: Carolina The Redsworn have invited everyone to dinner! Let's see how well diplomatic relations between the flights can be improved, eh?
Where: The Ruby Sanctum
When: Forward dated to 6th June.
Warnings: Fires, food poisoning cooking for all, shenanigans, possible bad language.
OOC: Come gets some cross-flight CR! c: Some setting options below the cut, or go ahead and make your own.


A: COOKING FIRE SHENANIGANS

Feeling peckish? Have a delivery to make? Or just want to try your own hand at serving up some grub? The Redsworn's usual cooking area has been expanded for the evening, with two extra firepits dug out to cater for additional mouths. Over one fire burns the now "traditional" starter meat of bear flank, something any newly sworn (red or otherwise) will have the pleasure of sampling first. There's also several baskets of berries, fruit and vegetables, while a pot obtained in trade from Silverglen bubbles merrily.

B: FIRESIDE MINGLE

The redsworn of the Ruby Sanctum have claimed a corner of their own beneath one of the larger trees. There's a smaller fire here set for warmth and ambience, and have logs set about for seating for those who don't like perching on rocks or roots, or don't find the comfy grass comfy - park yourself and have a chat!

C: OPEN/MISC.

Choose Your Own Adventure! Just remember: wander alone at your own risk, non-redsworn, for the Red Dragonflight will have their eye on you.

Comments

[raggedydoc]

It's a mage thing. You eat souls, I make baked goods with magic. They're quite restorative, actually. [Why don't you want his jammy dodger? He made it all by himself. :( You're so mean.]

Look, at least I switched to a blue coat eventually. [Yeah, he can't really defend Six's fashion choices, either.] And I've been quite subdued these last few regenerations, thank you very much.

[beholdthedrums]

I think I'll stick to eating souls. [It's probably healthier than whatever the Doctor is baking. A lot healthier.]

If you regenerate and your fashion sense plummets again, I'm killing you. [Isn't he nice.] But these robes do seem to have some perks to them. [He reaches up a hand and a ribbon of fire rolls over his fingertips a moment before flickering out. He's gotten a lot more control since he last saw the Doctor. He grins madly.] Magic's stronger.

[raggedydoc]

Suit yourself. I can make tea, too. It's actually quite good, although I haven't got it just right yet.

[Liiiineface.] What are you going to do, push me off a radio tower again? [He watches the Master's display of magic, apparently unimpressed.] Do you know, I can turn people into sheep. So you might think about watching your step around me, Master.

[beholdthedrums]

[Okay well tea is tempting--] Maybe when you perfect it, I'll try some. [See! He can be reasonable! Even with the Doctor, despite how the Master pretty much badmouths the Doctor to everyone at any given time. So what! It's normal! And -- wait... what. Sheep? Are you kidding him? No. Goddammit, Doctor, no.] Ha. Ha. Very funny. And even if I believed you, why would I be worried about a damn sheep? [For being a Warlock, the Master has yet to understand the concept of "crowd control."]

[raggedydoc]

You know, you shouldn't question what other people can do with their powers. [The Doctor smirks a little bit, and although he knows he probably shouldn't, he concentrates for a moment. An arcane glow surrounds his hands, and with a soft 'pop', the Master turns into a sheep. Of course, polymorphing is still kind of exhausting, and while he waits for the Master to change back, he fishes the jammy dodger back out of his pocket and eats it. Mmm, delicious mana food.]

[beholdthedrums]

[. . .

He makes a bleating sound. Translated, it would be: what. the. fuck.

He shuts up. Sits down. Tries not to look utterly pitiful that this actually just happened to him, that this is what Azeroth has made his life become. Who in their right mind thought it was a good idea to possibly grant the Doctor these kind of powers?

He thinks, as a sheep, his drums are quieter.

Or maybe he just thinks too much as a sheep.

When the spell fades, he's still sitting, a blank expression on his face. He's a bit afraid to open his mouth again. Maybe he'll still bleat. Maybe there's a residual effect.

Maybe he honest-to-god doesn't know what to say in response to this.]

[raggedydoc]

I did tell you.

[The Doctor sounds almost apologetic. Truth be told, he really just wants to laugh, but laughing at the Master is never a good idea. Not to his face, anyway. (He'll have a quiet chortle to himself later, back in the Amber Sanctum.)]

Just because my powers aren't as flashy as yours doesn't mean they're useless.

[In fact, he likes them better this way. Teleportation and turning people into animals and making baked goods is much more his style than calling down firestorms.]

[beholdthedrums]

I can't believe you turned me into a sheep!

[He huffs, but there's a small wisp of laughter in there, because really, how can he not? It's either that or torch the Doctor, and that, in the long run, really doesn't benefit him. Barbeque Doctor and a sure shot to getting kicked out of the party indefinitely.

He shakes his head.]

Might and magic. [This time there's a fuller laugh. He stretches back in the grass.] Of all the things that could have happened next, I did not ever foresee this.

[Pause.]

Don't ever turn me into a sheep again.

[:|]

[raggedydoc]

[There's a smile on the Doctor's face for a moment at that brief spark of camaraderie. This, he thinks, is what it should have been like with them, travelling through time and space together, marvelling at everything the universe has to offer. If he could just make the Master see that-

But he knows it's an impossibility, that the gulf between them is too wide to ever be crossed, with or without the drums. He raises an eyebrow at the Master's ultimatum.]

You know I won't promise that.

[beholdthedrums]

[He thinks that maybe a nicely placed Drain Soul would make his opinion clear. If he can't do that then surely the Doctor shouldn't be able to do something, either! They both fall into a question of ethics. Draining peoples' soul against their will? Yeah, fine, that's bad (the Master does it anyway); turning people into a sheep? That strips them of their rights, too, Doctor!

He wants to fight, he wants to lash out.

His hands, with a tingle of Shadow aura, clench around his arms. He can't, he can't, he--

Deathwing is more of a danger than the Doctor. He can't lose this party, not yet.

He holds it all back and scowls.]

Of course you won't.

[He needs to get out of here, away from the Doctor before he does something he can't recover from.

The Master rocks forward and gracefully stands back on his feet.]

So good of us to have this talk, but I should mingle.