everything belonged to him -- but that was a trifle.

Tell me how I'm doing, goin off in all kinds of directions with Arthas. Demand to know what the hell I think I'm up to, point out where I'm getting it wrong, tell me what you like, or ask me why I did something! I really do want to improve, so anon on actually on this time, don't mind me I just don't know how to use a computer apparently and everyone welcome, even dear_mun people!

Currently under construction:
Individual Character Tags
Table of Contents
Not Being Bad At Writing

((Hey, all! Entries 61 and forward are going to be posted to darknessb4me @ dreamwidth. Same stuff, new place.))

[On the screen is a little blond boy in expensive velvet. He's clearly an aristocrat wherever he's from; pale and slightly delicate, with a well-shaped nose and cheekbones. In a few years the war will change everything, but for now it's doubtful he can even lift a sword.

His expression is flat and cold and not childlike at all and when he speaks his tone matches, even though his voice is high and seems to have a little trouble with "R" sounds.]

I'm mentally unaffected and expect to be treated as such.

And I'm not going to wear this sweater.

Dear Greatfather Winter.

I'm supposed to tell you what I want? Alright.

I want control of the Barge. I want floods abolished. I want Azeroth, I want Kil'jaeden's head on a platter. I want the sunwell, the Eye of Dalaran, the Book of Medivh, and Sargeras' staff. I want... Anub'arak. Sylvanas Windrunner. Jaina Proudmoore. Hix. Nicolas. Elric. I want diplomatic immunity in the Alliance territories, fear toxin cannons equipped to Icecrown Citadel, and my old Throne back. I want Yogg-Saron begging at my feet like a dog. I want a skeleton army. You don't need to wait for the twenty-fifth for that one. I want geists, a full vargul honor guard, ghouls, nerubians, frostwyrms, abominations, flesh titans, val'kyr, liches, and a completed version of Malykriss for Kel'thuzad. Fill it with... whatever sort of sciency things he likes. Books. And bring him back his cat, and make him Archmage of the Kirin Tor. Actually, forget that last one - I want Dalaran shot down. Yes, again. I want you to flood Orgrimmar, burn Stormwind, and ... oh, I don't know, and set a plague of locusts on Light's Hope Chapel. In fact, I want a strand of the plague that paladins aren't immune to. I want my powers back, but while we're at it, I think I've been patient enough that I should have some extras as well. The ability to lift things with my mind would be useful. And maybe teleportation. I also want every blood elf and naga killed. Round them up, have them stand in a line. I want the Illidari dismantled and publicly humiliated, if possible. I want the Cult of the Damned to become the dominant religion on Azeroth among all races. I want... swords, knives, crossbows, maces, anything, get me a damn weapon. I want Light's Vengeance, and a nice quiet runeblade with a zweihander grip and one serrated edge. I want a siege engine. I want a catapult that can fit into the hallways that I can use to launch undead spiders at people. Actually, I want several siege engines, in case Fordring takes my first one. He shouldn't be able to, though, because I'll have control of the Barge, don't forget. Omnipotence. Admiral-like powers. You get the idea.

And a pony. I also want a pony. Hm. Yes, I think that's it, I can manage the rest on my own.

[Whoever's on Arthas' communicator is humanoid but wrapped entirely in red and black. Behind him are two massive, rotting demonic wings. They snap open impatiently as he speaks and more skin flakes off the bone.

He sounds a bit like he swallowed Castlevania.]

Enough games. Tell me what you would have me do here.

[OPEN SPAM: There will be a SCARY WINGÉD DUDE stalking around the halls in a ragged red cloak, tracking blood and generally making the entire barge smell like rot and brimstone.]

The plan was to live forever. I suppose I got what I wanted.

But then again, I always get what I want.

[Private to Wanda, Drake, David and Kel'thuzad.]

Three o'clock. Room 104.

[Private just to Wanda.]

[No words. Just video. And staring expectantly. What are you doing, Wanda.]

[Private just to Kel]

We have access to a highly concentrated version of the Plague here. I suggest we figure out how to exploit it.

This also means that if you would rather be undead again, it can happen.

Don't call it mass murder. He's not competent enough to commit mass murder. Mass murder is difficult. He couldn't even escape.

[Filtered away from graduated inmates and from Tirion, Martha, and Sarah. Audio.]

We are defined by we do. Identity therefore is not an idea or a definition, but a series of acts taken. The future tends to come to abrupt and violent ends, so your life is measured by your past. What you have done is what you are.

[He smiles.]

What you have done is what you are. The question I guess then isn't "will you leave here broken" but "will you leave here at all?" Will it be you walking out, or someone else?

[Private - Drake.]

I need that power transfer spell.

[Private - Kel'thuzad.

This one is video - he's regarding the camera as though it's an insect. There is a crisp-edged white skull painted on his face.]

Lich.

[Filtered: Amanda Young and Molly Carpenter]

I have no intention of finding it. You're free to do whatever you want.

[To Kel'thuzad:]

Where are you?

[Public; there's the faint sound of a guitar being tuned in the background.]

How do you acquire one of these flower pistols? Besides killing one of them and taking it, I mean.