The Master | Saxon Era (
standsonhigh) wrote2013-12-21 02:57 pm
Entry tags:
There's nothing here but what here's mine.
This wasn't, exactly, how he had planned his return. He had expected to be on home turf, a place he understood and wanted to be. Surrounded by worshippers and already plotting. Not here with some strange man using the power he gave specifically to his followers to bring him back. The books of Saxon weren't meant to be public knowledge, they were his private notes, and yet this man decided to drag him into a world he didn't want to be in.
The Master always had a funny feeling that magic wasn't something he should of ever tried to toy with because as it stood, he didn't like where this was going. It defied the logic he knew.
Voldemort was a strange creature, a very unpleasant one at that. He looked sickly and his eyes were red like an albino. Still, he didn't say much on it, he'd looked worse himself and damages were just a sign of ambition and desire. It always took everything out of you, especially with humans.
The drums were raging in his head as he followed Voldemort into this meeting he'd decided to attend. He'd only been back a few days and already he seemed to of captured the imagination of this tiny little creature who was all but eager to introduce him.
An ancient ruler from another reality must of been interesting.
He didn't walk behind Voldemort, he kept in step, not willing to seem a lesser. Hey, the dark lord brought him here. If he was going to play with this merry band of psychopaths, he wanted to seem equal.
The Master always had a funny feeling that magic wasn't something he should of ever tried to toy with because as it stood, he didn't like where this was going. It defied the logic he knew.
Voldemort was a strange creature, a very unpleasant one at that. He looked sickly and his eyes were red like an albino. Still, he didn't say much on it, he'd looked worse himself and damages were just a sign of ambition and desire. It always took everything out of you, especially with humans.
The drums were raging in his head as he followed Voldemort into this meeting he'd decided to attend. He'd only been back a few days and already he seemed to of captured the imagination of this tiny little creature who was all but eager to introduce him.
An ancient ruler from another reality must of been interesting.
He didn't walk behind Voldemort, he kept in step, not willing to seem a lesser. Hey, the dark lord brought him here. If he was going to play with this merry band of psychopaths, he wanted to seem equal.

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He kept watching him, now the one on his back, now the one leaning on his elbows, consciously or unconsciously mimicking the Master's position from before. He spread his legs, but it was a subtle enough thing, mostly just getting more comfortable. It was his bed, after all.
"And you won't tell me who I look like, either." A statement, not a question. "But you gave me a chance to get rid of my father. I won't forget that." His lips twitched in a smile. "Master."
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With a sigh, he shook his head in disbelief. He could throw the guy a bone, he supposed. "You look like an old friend and a great enemy. "
With a smirk, he tilted his head back, willing to pass over the mental intrusion this time. But he may not be so happy in the future. Letting out a bark of laughter, he looked Barty directly in the eyes, unable to help himself. Oh he did love that title. "Just remember that it's your show, Barty. You do the deed, I just watch. And help, if you feel like sharing."
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"Share?" Barty shook his head, simply because he couldn't remember wanting any help with this. He wanted to end it. He would end it. He should probably get rid of Winky before then, but he supposed he could just order her out of the room. Should be easy enough. She'd always liked him. He reckoned that after his mother had died from a broken heart, that attachment would only have deepened. "I'm an only child."
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Pulling the spell book back into his lap, he continued to leaf through it in interest. He was still learning magic and it was a shaky road. He was good at potions because he wasn't a stranger to them but wands and magic? Nonsense.
"You certainly love your mother, don't you? Or loved, anyway," the Master remarked, looking at Barty with a bright smile. "I heard you cry out for her while I was stalling outside."
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He watched the Master silently, worrying his lower lip because his thoughts were, already, on his father's death. On his father's screams. The mention of his mother however made him frown and he considered for a moment before replying. "She loved me." And it felt strange to talk of her in the past tense, it did. He wasn't sure what he still felt for her, what he had felt for her before, but he didn't yet quite think of her as 'gone'. "She'd have kept me out of there if she could. But she was weak."
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"I believe most human men cry for their mothers when in pain. It's funny, that's all I could here in Azkaban. Desires for their mommy to come and save them," the Master mused without much thought. He did, however, halt for a moment, looking at Barty with a curious expression. Then held up the book to display it to his new best friend. "I'm having this, by the way. Take it as a fee for saving your arse. I really should learn more about this stuff."
So far he knew a few spells, those which most first years would of mastered in their first weeks.
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"Instincts, I suppose." Barty shrugged. He'd rather not have the Master have seen him brought down so low, but... Alright. It was over. He could deal. At the declaration of ownership of the book he just snorted, taking a look at it and arching his eyebrows.
"This one? Sure. Though if you told me what it is you want to learn, I could probably point you to better ones."
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He needed to know everything he could but he only had so long to prepare a defence. And he was about to piss off legions of Death Eaters.
"Defence. Attacks. Just general counter spells would be useful, I suppose. I have a feeling that people won't tolerate me very long should I make the wrong move and I have a disadvantage," Though he doesn't seem that bothered over it. Instead, he smirked, and gave Barty a challenging look. "Fortunately, there are much stronger and worse means than magic."
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He smiled and pushed himself up so he sat across from the Master, holding his gaze still. "So I can teach you. You're in this world now."
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"I need a wand. And some lessons. After we dispose of daddy, you can show me," the Master insisted, wanting something out of this. He didn't save the man out of goodness, he wanted to profit. Barty had experience, he needed a little of it. "I'm sure you can share?"
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"I can show you. I may not be my Lord's equal in magic..." Somehow he managed to have a 'yet' be implied. "...but I know enough to make sharing worthwhile. Now you know what you need me for. Aside from company."
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Hopefully, because the Master was being very secretive over it, he wouldn't grasp that the Master planned to use science against him. "If you have skills, do share them. Like you say, that might be your great use to me after all."
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"You may watch and learn," Barty permitted graciously, a secretive smile on his lips. "My father should be home soon." He took out the wand he had stolen before and experimentally cast a few sparks. Good enough, he supposed, but if he ever could, he'd definitely get a wand that belonged to him again. One that wanted him.
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"Magic to torture? Now I know all about that one," the Master remarked, a gleeful smile on his face. He'd learned all about it when a crowd of death eaters filled him in on why the Doctor lookalike was no longer about. Seemed there were strict laws on it. "Naughty Barty played with darker forces than he should of."
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"You don't sound as if you mind. Good. I like that in a man." He laughed again, tongue flicking out to lick his lips. "It's the true strength of magic."
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"Perhaps you could teach me a few of these banned spells of yours."
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"Do you know the three Unforgivable Curses? Cruciatus, that's the one I used. What I was imprisoned for." He turned to look at the door, a glint in his eyes already. "My father used one on me before. He won't go to jail for it, but he'll suffer. Imperius. That's the one."
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"He used one on you? Well, I think it'd only be fair to use one back," the Master remarked, a dark glint in his eyes. He wanted to see this, to study it. He needed things like that at hand. "Can you show me how cruciatus works? When daddy arrives, anyway."
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He had dreamed about this moment, way too often. The thought was exciting, almost arousing. His hatred was the strongest he'd ever felt. "And then he'll be gone."
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And letting him loose, it could only end well. "The longer he screams, the happier you'll be. Trust me, there's nothing better than that sensation of actually winning. Of knowing they can't come back."
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Barty rolled to the side suddenly, halfway on top of the Master as he kissed him again, just as forcefully, his fingers sliding into the man's hair this time. He couldn't remember ever feeling so giddy. This was intoxicating. As quickly as he had started it, Barty broke the kiss, got up. He held a hand out for the Master.
"Come on. I have to tell the house elf to stay out of the way."
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With an amused smile, he decided to humour the boy and take his hand, using it to haul himself up. Hey, if he could play along with Lucy then he could assume some unhinged human.
"House elf? You have one of those? Oh, how novel!"
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He stepped out onto the hallway, calling out for the house elf and not surprised when she appeared immediately. "Master Barty!" She actually did sound happy to see him. "Winky has missed you. Your mother, your dear mother, she has too. She wanted to go see you at the horrible place, but Master Crouch..." Her little face darkened and she bit her lip very harshly. "Are you out of that place now? Winky never believed it. You're so good, so kind."
"Yes, I'm an unsung hero." It was only slightly embarrassing. "Will you listen to my orders?"
She hesitated, but only for a moment before nodding. "Of course, Master Barty."
"Then stay in the kitchen until I tell you to come out. No matter what happens before then."
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"Master Barty, that's adorable," the Maser commented, grinning towards the elf. She seemed very unsure of him but that was probably natural, most people found him unnerving. The Master didn't exactly scream good company, despite his charm he always had a darker edge to it. Perhaps it's because the smile he wore never quite reached his eyes.
Well, she'd best hide and stay there. If she became a problem, he had no issues killing her.
"Maybe one day you can have your very own army of these elves. Conquer magic land with them."
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"No! Please, no. I will listen. Don't send away your Winky, Master Barty. I'll be in the kitchen like you said." But still, after that speech, she glanced at the Master, definitely not sure of it. "Shall I go now?"
"Yes. Just lave us alone, it's fine." Barty shrugged dismissively and turned to the Master. "Sounds particularly useless, a whole army of that."
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