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.

no subject
"It does. Especially since you let that ministry employer live long enough to bleed out. He couldn't even talk right anymore." Although Barty could admit that hearing him try was quite amusing. "He won't think you're so funny anymore when he's been scrubbing the floor for some hours."
no subject
Responding to the silent request, he continued to massage Barty through his trousers, never giving him too much but enough to make him want it. Maybe he'd beg for it one day? -- Or, far more likely, try to manipulate him to avoid said begging. "Well, you know, removing all his teeth and his tongue was a messy job but I never did like being called an idiot. I take great offence so such things, it's my biggest flaw."
He smirked at the idea of doing the same to Lucius but he decided to give a pass this time and make him a scrubber.
no subject
"Not saying it wasn't justified," Barty managed, even though his voice was starting to come out a bit breathless and his body was moving with the rhythm of the Master's had, getting as much friction out of his touch as he could. "Just messy, as you said. But I bet Lucius can take proper care of it..."
Trailing off the sentence ended in a low moan as his eyes fluttered shut. He needed to stay focused, knowing the Master he wouldn't let him get off until he was ready himself, if that, and, well. Timelord. "Regulus, too. He's on your list." Great personal assistant, as promised.
no subject
But being here, hormones everywhere, it did things to him. And often, he found preference in watching others squirm more than he did in much else. Hence why making Barty struggling to breath normally like this just did it for him. It was a display of how much power he really had over him.
He kept going, curious to see how long it would take for Barty to beg him.
"Regulus needs to be taught he's not better than me," the Master insisted, leaning down to pull Barty into a quick kiss. "I think I'll let you play with that one. Would you like that?"