Anti-OTP: Pre-plotted and spontaneous evil welcome.

[stillrocknroll]

Sauron's biding his time in a far-away and quiet corner of the Mansion. Biding his time is really what this ex-Dark Lord does best, and there're no Elven mobs or their regular smiting missions here. There is a kitten, dark grey with white paws, who's learning evil ways and also how to defeat the Yarn Monster, but kittens are not, he feels, quite

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[hewer_of_caves]

There's no mob, but there is a lone Elf passing nearby as he takes a book back to the Mansion library. He pauses and tenses when he sees the Dark Lord, fervently wishing that he hadn't left his sword in his room.

[stillrocknroll]

We like lone Elves! He looks up at Finrod with a not particularly-pleasant smile. "Why, Felagund."

[hewer_of_caves]

"Sauron." His hand wants to grab for the sword that he knows isn't there, but he forces himself not to move. The only thing that could possibly be called a weapon that he has on him is a small whittling knife, and that certainly wouldn't be of any use...

[stillrocknroll]

He could stab him in the eye, or something-! "How cordial you are." Sauron stands, and the room seems to get a little darker. "Come greet an old friend."