Life is good.
And by good, I mean wicked, because that is what the Master, most assuredly, is.
After yesterday's 'tea' with the Rarity and the Rainbow Dash, the Doom Lizard and I set about cleaning up the lair with the knowledge that our Master had secured not one, but TWO new minions.
Yes, there were some stumbles. Yes, the door to the Master's lab will need to be replaced. Yes, the sink spilled over and the frothing mass of metal melting fire did manage to scorch the floor, walls, ceiling, and table.... but on the upside? Well, on the upside, I will not have to polish that particular teapot ever again.
Incidentally, when Spike walked into the kitchen and saw flames everywhere, I rather expected at least a bit of surprise.
Unexpectedly, ~I~ was the one who ended up surprised when the little Cataclysm in Waiting set his jaw in a frown, slid his claws up his arms.... not sure why, he doesn't have a shirt so there were no sleeves to roll up... and simply marched into the inferno.
I saw him about an hour later with a mop and bucket, calmly swabbing out the lounge. Curious, I snuck by and peeked into the kitchen.
Spotless.
AB SO LUTELY SPOTLESS.
Must have some bronze dragonflight blood in him somewhere since I'm pretty sure no warlock knows how to turn back time. Oh... and when I asked him, he offhandedly mentioned that yes, the Master does INDEED know how to go back in time but that all the kitchen needed was a bit of elbow grease.
I glared at him but he only kept on mopping.
Stitchface used to have a bucket of elbow grease. She collected it from the kitchens in the Undercity. Pure, undiluted grease made by rendering the fat collected from the elbows of gnomish orphans.
What? She was a twisted little ball of spite and madness. Can't really blame her though, what with being undead and all. Probably had a touch of brainrot in there somewhere.
Anyway, after the cleanup, the Master mentioned that she was going to be going out for some 'supplies' and that she trusted the two of us to behave while she was out.
Spike saluted and smiled, flinging mop water all over the floor of the lair.
I cackled a bit and earned a raised eyebrow from the Master.
My cackling may have shriveled up and and died a slow, pitiful, death at seeing her momentary disapproval.
So, after I was given a "list for good imps to remember so that they don't need to be reminded of what bad imps have to worry about," the Master set out and left the lair to Spike and I.
Spike resumed cleaning while humming some little incantation about packaging the winter season... truly terrifying what must go through his head. And I.... I began sorting through the books on arcane theory to see what I could do with a few drops of blood that had been flung around from the Rainbow Dash.
And just about that time, there was a firm pounding at the door of the Master's Lair.
-~oOo~-
RAIDERS! MERCENARIES! ASSASSINS! Door to door Salespeople! HARLOTS and CHARLATANS! THOSE OF QUESTIONABLE BREEDING!
I was halfway through breaking the legs of a chair into an improvised stake when Spike pulled the furniture from my hands.
There was a bit of shrieking involved, but ultimately, the whelpling just sauntered over and OPENED THE DOOR for our invaders.
...
Upon seeing a pink horse-beast on the other side, buck naked, with a smile large enough to make me question the anatomy that would allow such a horrifying rictus, I prepared for the worst.
The Master smiles... when the Master smiles, it is a statement of her overwhelming power. It is a threat and a warning that crossing her is both unwise and a directly willful sacrifice of ones health and sanity.
Warlocks smiling... is akin to an open declaration of assisted suicide.
That being said, seeing a random invader smile is nearly as dangerous. It implies that they're either very capable, very sure of themselves, or vapidly incapable of grasping even the ~notion~ of their own mortality. None of these things are good unless the lair has been adequately trapped in the absence of the Master.
And since the Master has both forbidden me from making (or even placing traps) AND is currently out, I maaaaaaay have overacted slightly.
If the Doom Lizard is too stupid to see the threat this thing represents, I shall have to protect the Master's domain myself.
Fire.
Don't roll your eyes at me. Remember, I know things! I can tell you're just rolling your eyes at me!
Look... imps are conniving, vicious, determined, and dedicated.... even if we're not all that economical from the destructive standpoint. We're not big or scary. We don't puke lightning or feast on the souls of the unborn.... though scrambled eggs are pretty good. And we don't really have the massive magical reserves to act like a tank when the walls come crashing down. But... what we lack in physical prowess, we make up for in durability and cunning.
Fire isn't just something that burns. It's alive. It spreads. It consumes and grows and moves on its own! It's a crippling beast that can attack and defend with no extra instruction. It's not like a sword that can be dropped. It's not like a cannon that needs to be reloaded. It's not a beast to be trained or armor that needs to be repaired. Fire is a monster all on its own.
Oh! ... and it makes a passable bandage in a pinch!
And imps make it, hurl it, understand it, and for the most part are completely immune to it. So.... yheah.... sue me for my limited reflexive death-inducing-choices.
-~oOo~-
Anyway, the door was open. The Lair was exposed. The Master was gone. The Doom-lizard slash Butler was an idiot. The traps, didn't. All in all, it was a pretty much impossible scenario.
Well, impossible for a normal guardian at least.
But, as we've discussed, I am an imp!
I started hurling fireballs while screaming bloody murder. Spike, apparently shaken from his traitorous brain fog by my scream, dove for cover with a yelp. And the pink thing? It went up in flames.
I'd seen enough of this world to know it couldn't be that easy.
If something had managed to enter (and by association, find) the Master's lair, it was not something to be dismissed quickly. Oh no.... after the Applejack, the Big Mac, the Rarity, and the Rainbow Dash, I had learned my lesson.
So, while I couldn't inflict etiquette upon the pink invader, I ~could~ pile on enough fel fire to melt the souls of any head of church this side of Whitemane.
I..... just realized that "Whitemane" is a Cardinal who preaches to a corrupt and evil organization of religious fanatics out of a blood-soaked villa known as the Scarlet Monastery. She's a human....and with a name like that, I'd actually rather think she'd fit in better here.
But that's besides the point!
I had dumped fireball upon fireball into the doorway the pink invader had been in, all the while dodging Spike as he attempted to thwart my defense of the lair.
When I finally deemed it safe, I let Spike grab ahold of me as I panted, staring at the searing column of fire that towered over the both of us.
I had done it! I had protected the Master's lair! I had thrown fire at something that didn't just result in a sputtering flicker of flame before going out! I had avoided Spike long enough to kill something that threatened the Master!
Finally! FINALLY! Maybe she'll see that all this 'polite' and 'etiquette' nonsense is inferior and we can get on with the corruption and domination of the masses..... you know.... something that I know the rules for?
Spike was gaping. His little head whipping back and forth between me and the fire that continued to sizzle and hiss in the doorway, his eyes nearly the size of dinner plates.
"Wh....what have you done?" he whispered.
I, of course, cackled as I explained in delicious detail how I had saved the Master, single-handedly repulsed the assassin, and secured our continued existance when the Master returned. I believe my exact words were "I Killed it! I killed it with ~F~I~R~E~!"
And then, I found myself being shaken violently.... and there was that sound of coins in a tin can again....hmmm... have to get that looked at.
"You IDIOT! THAT WAS PINKIE PIE! THAT WAS OUR FRIEND!"
Friend? Warlocks don't have friends. They have Minio........ oh..... oh my.
I think I just killed one of the Master's favorite minions.
I was just starting to panic when a stick with a marshmallow on it propped itself over my shoulder.
I turned to look, and promptly screamed as I saw the Pink Thing behind me, STILL SMILING.
I may have screamed..... just a little.
Oh... you noticed I already screamed? Fine! Fine! I'll say it. I screamed a whole freaking lot!
-~oOo~-