IC inbox | Asgard

[standsonhigh]

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[standsonhigh]

I wish I could talk to my future or past incarnations, give them a few tips. You're cheating doing all of this.

[He wishes he could go back, tell his younger self that the shoulder pads didn't work, the cape was awful and never go to America. Also to gloat less and kill faster.]

I didn't slip up, I never slip up.

[Eye twitch. Totally slipped up.]

I can assure you, if I met anyone with half a brain here, I'd be showing them off as it'd truly be a miracle to have some intelligent company. Alas, here I am, a bright spark in a dull fire.

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[liquidsky]

[Barty is ever so subtly lifting the book he reads higher to hide the reaction to those words.

Aw, Master, you shouldn't have.]

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[standsonhigh]

[He doesn't care if Eight can see this but he rather skilfully picks up a book he has sitting just beside him and lobs it over his shoulder ever so casually, trying his hardest to hit him because he can totally sense that smile.

Stop it, it's too nice. Prick.]

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[liquidsky]

[He ducks and rolls to the side to avoid the book, then tries his very best to smother the chuckle that's threatening to escape. It's ever so tempting, really, to start teasing the Master, but keeping his face and name secret is in his favour, really, so he just blows him a kiss, silently. And, yes, he's smiling.]

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[beforethewar]

[He smirks, pretending not to notice the book flying.]

You're a terrible liar.

Fine, fine...but you know what happens with secrets in this city.