Hold onto your bawls, shit's about to go down

[necromaniacal.livejournal.com]

WHO: necromaniacal and liadrin (Later masterous)
WHERE: En route to Superjail
WHEN: Sometime after the Lich King ends up in jail
WARNINGS: Uhm. Violence. Lots of it.
SUMMARY: A very exhausted Kel'Thuzad seeks to liberate his King from DA LAW -- Liadrin has other plans.
FORMAT: Doesn't matter



Kel'Thuzad knew little of rest since his death. He had required little of it as a result of being undead. The longer he stayed in the boundaries of the City, the more useless he was beginning to feel. But he would not have faltered in his duties to the Lich King, not when they had worked so hard to create the army they had raised. Now however, now that the City had once again robbed him of his hard work and he was left with nothing. Nothing but an extreme void in his chest, where he could feel his very existence wavering with weakness.

Raising a horde repeatedly had done him no favors, nor had chaining down Koltira and Jaina. Had it not been for their location's limits, the City would have been their's before nightfall. Just the thought enraged him and caused him to rake his sharp fingernails across his chest.

The Lich had rested a few days much to his chagrin, under the impression that his master would have been able to hold his own. As such, they had miscalculated, and he was now imprisoned in some superimposed cell. No doubt he would be able to forge his magic through the locks to release him, so long as he could get inside. And if that failed, he imagined he could control a guard long enough to force them to unlock it.

Still, Kel'Thuzad was not a fool -- he was weakened, and he knew it. He made no plans to pick unnecessary fights along the way and ducked behind every alleyway he could find. With a plague infecting much of the City and Koltira's confession, there would be plenty out for his blood, however frozen and congealed it may have been. As such, a frost spell awaited launching on his boney fingertips, should something sneak up on him.

Comments

[masterous.livejournal.com]

"Actions speak louder than words, leech," the Master said, the last word ripe with vicious emphasis. "And if a picture is really worth a thousand of the latter, your former lord will be rich indeed when I send him this ..." Eyes and a hand flourished to indicate the circumference of said room. "... surveillance footage."

Yet, at the elf's words, the Time Lord flashed Liadrin a disapproving glare. "Of course it's working," he said with much offended incredulity before letting his tone turn deep, grandiose, but with a hint mocking playfulness. "I find your lack of faith disturbing ..."

However, he quickly fell back to the task, or lich, at hand, gaze and words heavy with hypnotic seriousness. "Master says, do whatever the magic-eater asks of you. Now, be a good zombie and call her mistress." The Master paused briefly, then added, eyes wide and brows up with gentle cajoling that was nothing if not insulting, "Well, go on ..."

[necromaniacal.livejournal.com]

Kel'Thuzad gave a low laugh in response to the master, the noise being little more than a rumble. "Then I suppose my actions spoke volumes to you if this is your response..."

After that, however, the lich offered no response. The silence left after the Master's words were, instead, filled with an awkward wheeze from lungs that hadn't seen use in several years. The sound continued while the Archlich attempted to regain some of his strength, hopefully enough to put him on his feet again, at least.

If Kel'Thuzad had heard him, he didn't give any sign.

[liadrin.livejournal.com]

Damn the wretched Lich, his will was still too strong.

Still, it was a situation that could be remedied, she decided as she carefully observed as Kel'thuzad fought to stay himself, to keep his body his own; deep down inside, she wondered if this was how Koltira had felt, ensnared within the rime covered chains now uselessly clinging to the necromancer's body. "I suppose we'll have to adjust the schedule to make this work..."

Inhaling deeply, she positioned her arms, fingers outstretched, over their kneeling captive, "Dragon, you may wish to step back."

Suddenly without a second of warning, Liadrin pulled at the magical energies in the air around her, weaving it into a silencing, draining torrent of arcane energies. The snapping sound of magic crackling into her echoed in the cramped space. Her logic was simple: The less energy the Lich had, the less inclined he would be to fight back at all. Taking a touch of his magic before she'd forced him to submit wouldn't ruin her plans, after all.

[masterous.livejournal.com]

At first, he saw no reason for a Time Lord - or a dragon, for that matter - to step back. Frankly, the gallifreyan was a bit annoyed at the intrusion, the interruption, and visibly frowned in the elf's direction. Yes, the Master had been hoping to just insert that "ruling" suggestion and sit back, enjoying what unfolded, at least for a spell. The strong-willed never ceased to be a problem. However, that didn't mean he had been devoid of further options. There is always more than one way around a fixed point in time, after all.

As such, the Master stubbornly refused an active retreat, but did take a few steps back as the magical storm bore down on them.

[necromaniacal.livejournal.com]

As a Lich (even a human one), Kel'Thuzad was a beacon of magic. It was woven into his entire being, not unlike an elf. The differences were glaring on obvious in being that his energies were quite unholy, despite being arcane in nature, and they were much more potent. Even at his weakest point, anyone in tune with that sort of thing would feel it coursing through his veins like a well-oiled machine.

So when Liadrin sought to drain it from him when it was already so weak, it felt much like his very lifeforce was being torn away, leaving him to gag and sputter helplessly. Magic was the air he breathed, even in undeath, so the silencing spell had done its job perfectly. Kel'Thuzad buckled inwardly on himself, his skin shrinking to his skeleton in horrific withdrawal and leaving him to fall on his side off his knees dizzily while the heaving of his chest slowed to a dangerous pace.

His awareness of his surroundings had faded into a haze, leaving him only aware of how close he was to his fourth death. Such wouldn't be a horrible thing, of course -- he'd be risen again surely. Thus, he was able to embrace his current predicament and allow himself to relax.

[liadrin.livejournal.com]

It was a drug. The pulsing, indescribable feeling. The rush of adrenaline, of energy down to the very tips of her fingers. While the undead toppled over in weakness, Liadrin nearly fell back in bliss.

After a moment or two, her slightly heightened senses adjusted as she surveyed the room with lidded, radiant eyes. She smiled gently at the broken figure on the floor, a distant, vacant smile. Her voice, however, still kept a cruel tone to it.

"That should do, don't you think? I do hope I didn't get you as well."

[masterous.livejournal.com]

The Master didn't need any magical sensitivity to grasp what had just taken place. Yes, he was a tad startled for a few hundred milliseconds, but quickly processed the scene, and enjoyed it for what it was with rapt attention. However, the Time Lord let his visage shine with the coy glint of a satisfied voyeur at Liadrin's easily-twisted words.

"Gorgeous, isn't she," he said after sidling conspiratorially up to the fallen lich. "Tell me, man to man, what do you think of that last bit? An invitation, perhaps? I didn't know you old devils dabbled in those types of triumvirates." The gallifreyan's lips puckered with a playful flinch as he stole a glance back at the elf, but then slipped the expression into feigned surprise, bringing a hand to his lips and making a show of zipping them shut. "Yes, nudge, nudge, wink, wink. Say. No. More ..." He hopped up to stand next to Liadrin with a smart clap. "... until Master says!"

Time for an experiment, to see how much control could be wrested from this willful creature. Sometimes you got body, but not words, and others words, but not body. Mesmerism was a science, but at times it bore the fickleness of an art. "Crawl to us," the Time Lord commanded, the full force of his hypnotic skill brought to bear, "and beg for leniency ..."

[necromaniacal.livejournal.com]

Kel'Thuzad didn't even look at the Master when he leaned down to speak to him. He did, however, flinch at the loud clap. Everything was so much more sensitive now -- sounds, sights, scents. He had to hide his eyes from the lights overhead to avoid causing himself more pain, even if it was all blurry. He was aware of everything -- except himself. It was very familiar to the night he had first met the Lich King in terms of humiliation. This was only worse because these people had no use for him and would sooner see him dead if it came right down to it.

But they wouldn't kill him; he knew that. What he didn't know was that he was reaching to claw himself forward from where he lay in an attempt to obey the Master's command. If Kel'Thuzad hadn't appeared to be a zombie before now, the blank look in his eyes said a lot for his state now. At the command to speak, the Lich could only wheeze an empty plea though his rasp was still angry -- hurt, but not defeated. If there was one thing Kel'Thuzad could not be made to do, it was cower in the face of the enemy. "Release me..."

[liadrin.livejournal.com]

"Much better." The elf said with a fair amount of evident glee, applauding the sight of Kel'thuzad crawling across the floor. She wanted more from him. Much, much more. After everything that had been done, it was only fair that he felt a fraction of the pain that he caused.

After admiring their new toy for a few minutes, she turned to the Master with her ears curled ever so slightly down. Liadrin heard him talking to the lich, of course, but she figured it was his peculiar brain trying to grasp at sanity. It reminded her of Kael'thas in a way. His madness was immeasurably destructive, but her newfound ally did not seem beyond hope. Perhaps with proper guidance and coaxing he could be saved.

But this wasn't the time to entertain such thoughts. Better to focus on the task at hand.

"Make him use his communicator," she purred, "make him renounce the Lich King."

[masterous.livejournal.com]

The Time Lord shot Liadrin a curt glance. Had the elf been observing a different lich? Was she intoxicated on magic, or just plain daft? Anyone with a few meager pseudo-simian neurons could see that Kel'thuzad's motor functions were effectively enthralled, but cognition remained stubbornly resistant. Additionally, the Master didn't much care for anything which approximated an order, though Liadrin's tone of voice did soften the edge. The gallifreyan lifted his chin. It had been quite a while since a female whispered sweet nothings in his ear. One of their number would pay for his dear lucy's betrayal, maybe even this one - the Master's lips loosened into a smile - yes, this one would do nicely, but not yet. No, his abracadabratarian still had untapped potential. There was hope to quash, talents to exploit, and above all ... fun to be had.

"Hmmm," The Time Lord said loftily, with seductive hints to match the elf's purr, as if deciding whether to fulfill her request. "Do as your mistress desires, lich," the Master ordered with the full weight of all his powers of suggestion pressing down upon their target. "I am your Lord and Master," he continued, adding this rote phrasing whose focused power had rarely failed him before. "You will obey me."

/is so dead

[necromaniacal.livejournal.com]

Mistress -- nobody was above him amongst the Scourge, especially a woman. He was the Archlich, the majordomo to his Lord and Master.

Lord and Master -- the man standing in front of him? It didn't sound nor feel like the Lich King in any form, but it had the audacity to proclaim such things.

Delirium and exhaustion were slowly chipping away at his thought process. Had the Lich King installed someone in a higher position than he, Kel'Thuzad? This elf -- the bright paladin (Arthas was a paladin once, he remembered) he was to be calling "mistress". Slowly, but with purpose and a trembling hand, Kel'Thuzad reached into his robes and pulled out his communicator to stare at.

The "Lich King" in front of him had told him to listen to the paladin, the very same paladin that had just told him to renounce his glory, his power, his absolute rule and had not made an objection. The wheels in his head turned continuously, but seemed to spin and go nowhere in the fog that was his thought process at the present time.

The lich struggled to sit up on his knees at least, staring down at the device. He existed for the Scourge -- for the Lich King, and he had been told to toss it to the wind. It was the very last thing Kel'Thuzad would have ever wanted in life or death. But it was an order.

And Kel'Thuzad was bred to follow orders. While he caught his breath (figuratively, of course), the Archlich searched for the button to activate the feed.