[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

[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.