(Untitled)

[thunderblast]

Who: Lady Vashj/coilfangmatron & Ren/thunderblast
What: The language of battle, la.
Where: Close to the fountain, near the residential area.
When: Following this conversation.

Comments

[coilfangmatron]

So, then. It was settled. Vashj had long prided herself for her patience when it came to handling the younger, cockier generation; she ruled with a firm but fair iron fist. This displacement, however, had done nothing for her levels of tolerance, leaving the age-old warrioress in a constant state of easily provoked frustration. She simply couldn't wrap her mind around who in all of Azeroth and Outland alike would have the power to melt away her reality and replace it with a newer, stranger one, nor why someone wielding such a power would chose to use it so foolishly.

But then again, there was always the possibility that it was the cause of some... outside interference. Overheard conversations and murmurs through white noise had her believing that these other people -- these victims caged in the limbo of Nuadoria -- were not of her world. Not of her time...

Of course, that was no excuse. This child dared not only to undermine her authority and dismiss her as 'just a woman', but he had challenged her with the clear intention of

[thunderblast]

Bason moved closer to Ren at the sudden voice, his protective instincts working in overdrive. It was one thing to allow Ren to risk his life on the battlefield, to stop Hao, to purify the world of the sin and taint that Ren hated so. But this, this went beyond everything that Ren had learned in the lilting year spent with Asakura Yoh. This went back to the sport that the broken child had once made out of bloodshed.

And the appearance of this - woman, creature, monster, Bason didn't know - it only made it worse. Ren was a child, not yet fifteen, not yet a five and a half feet, not yet versed in anything but familial strife and almost-friendship. This opponent was... far, far out of his reach