Zachariah Black doesn't have a custom title currently.
Location: Mesa, AZ
Born: 3 September 1980
Website: No Information
OOC ALIAS: RJ
CHARACTERS AGE: 31
CHARACTERS OCCUPATION: Sorceror
CHARACTERS PRONOUNS: Nanda Parbat
PLOTTER: No Information
WANTED ADVERT: No Information
OTHER: No Information
YOUR PRONOUNS: No Information
YOUR TIMEZONE: No Information
CHARACTERS SEXUALITY: No Information
CHARACTERS RELATIONSHIP STATUS: No Information
SONG LINK: No Information
Joined: 27-February 17
Last Seen: Jul 7 2017, 07:27 PM
Local Time: Sep 19 2017, 11:08 AM
48 posts (0.2 per day)
( 0.36% of total forum posts )
Apr 13 2017, 09:59 AM
Zachariah was quickly losing his patience for this boy. As the boy ran his mouth about things he only knew secondhand, Zachariah sighed, his mind falling into the rhythmic pattern of a spell. With a single spoken word of power, he let the magic into the air into a binding of obedience… something that the boy probably had no voluntary experience with so far. “Be quiet,” he said, letting the spell’s constraints force the boy to obey. He had a good five minutes of unfailing compliance, and perhaps a few more of resisting compliance, no more than that since he didn’t want to damage the boy’s mind… but Robin didn’t know that it would be that brief, now, did he. It was as painless a way as possible to put the lie to the slander about his sorcerous talent as Zach had without the point being meaningless. The control was, after all, a subtle thing. The boy couldn’t disobey his words, but aside from that, his mind was his. He was free to try to run, try to attack… Zach could stop him with a word, of course, or a thought if it came to that. “And for once, listen with an open mind.” That was a bit of control not many people knew that a spell could enforce. You couldn’t control how people thought, but you could make them actually process what was going around, and to not willfully be ignorant.. Zach liked to think of it as a truth spell for your inner monologue in cases like this.
“Yes, I could have handled these fools. Not in my preferred method, no, but yes, I could have. I thanked you for saving me the effort and the miniscule risk involved, nothing more, from the less-than-effective spells I would use because I don’t believe what everyone tells me on a given subject, particularly your master. I believe the evidence of my own eyes and experience. I complimented your abilities, and you insulted mine. From one underling to another, masters take a dim view of that.”
It was particularly telling that the boy could identify him, though. That was the sole factor that was keeping Zachariah from telling the boy to turn around, walk away, and forget that this encounter ever happened. “Now… who told you that I was League of assassins?” True, he could hear things from his Master, but to identify Zachariah on sight? That wasn’t something that word of mouth could convey, and magicians could be… difficult to photograph. This entire conversation was reminding him of why he preferred children to be in someone else’s care and kept well away from him, but he was going to have to endure the tiresome exchange a little longer, he supposed.
Mar 21 2017, 12:56 PM
“Really,” Zach sighed, looking up at the building, where the sign reading “Faerie Embassy” loomed over him. He’d heard, as any in his circles had, that there was an embassy to the Fair Lands opening here, but he hadn’t expected it to be quite so… blatant. “What, exactly, is the world coming to,” he mused, shaking his head as he walked in the door.
Still, there was one last piece of business to make sure of before he entered the building. Reaching into the reasonably-sized doctor’s bag, he drew out a small shoe box, wrapped in a crude iron mesh, and peered into it at the lone occupant of the tiny confinement. “Wake up, Little One, we’re here. Now, before we see to your liberty, there are some details that we are going to be absolutely clear upon. Your confinement was a direct result of your spying upon me, to which you directly admitted. In the time since I trapped you in the process of robbing me of my secrets, I have brought no harm upon you, either through abuse of your person or neglect of your needs, and have, in fact, seen to every reasonable request that you have leveled toward me.” He paused, listening to a nearly inaudible retort, then answered with a thin smile. “And as I told you then, that was not a reasonable request. Additionally, I have not kept you in my custody any longer than it has taken me, without incurring a price upon you for my inconvenience, to arrive at a place where I could deliver you over to an entrance to the Fair Lands, and I have not attempted, through trickery or force, to compel you to reveal your true name to me. Do you agree to all that I have said?” He listened, the nodded. “Again, do you agree?” He waited through the tirade of abuse that followed as the agreement was made, rolling his eyes slightly. “Again, thrice and be done with it, do you agree with what I have said about your treatment in my care?” Taking the final sullen agreement, he entered the very loudly advertised entrance to the Faerie Embassy.
He strode up to the desk and set the little cage down, making sure to keep it clear of the woman sitting there. She was, more than likely, fey, and he did not wish to have it said that she was trying to thrust an object made of cold iron toward one of the fair folk. This was a delicate enough prospect as it was. “My name is Zachariah, and I have in my care a thief, by his own admission. He has stated very plainly that he was not acting on his agency in that theft. I’ve come to grant him his freedom back to his master or mistress in exchange for recompense for the secrets that he managed to steal from me.”
Mar 14 2017, 01:47 PM
Well, this was going to be tedious.
The things that Zachariah concerned himself with in Gotham were not what most people concerned themselves with. Most sane people would be concerned, even very concerned, to be out at night with the city’s reputed crime rate. Gotham was supposedly not a pleasant place, and someone well-dressed like Zachariah, walking openly on the street, just might find himself the target of muggers or worse.
This was particularly relevant at this moment to Zachariah, as he stared exasperatedly at the small gang of armed men who were seemingly hell-bent on getting his money and his valuables, and possibly his life.
“Really?” he asked, sighing in resignation. He wasn’t afraid of these men, not in the least. Any one of them coming at him, he could have easily dispatched even with his limited League-taught martial proficiency. The entire group, he could have probably dealt with as well, although he more than likely would have gotten hurt in the process. When you considered the fact that he was a sorcerer, though, all bets were off. These men, by all rights, were walking corpses, except that there were… special circumstances here.
The real thing Zachariah concerned himself with in Gotham was the fact that it was watched over by the Batman, and it was not in his best interest to let his first encounter with the man be in regards to the sorcerous death of a street gang. Defending yourself was probably not going to be taken as a slight on one’s territory, but there was word that the man did not take kindly to people killing the criminals in his town. This could be an issue, because on the same note, Zachariah had some serious reservations about fleeing from this encounter, even if it was just to avoid being the one to draw the ire of the Batman upon the League. Things had been going rather well, he had no desire to irritate Ra’s Al Ghul by being the one to create a diplomatic faux paux by murdering a few people in what could be considered a needless display. Besides, mystic murder was occasionally looked upon poorly by those who thought they were heroes.
Still, he had to do something, he supposed. “Gentlemen, I don’t suppose I could convince you that this is a very bad idea, now, could I?” he asked in a disappointed, bored tone. He quietly sized up the surroundings, preparing a magical shield while he began flipping through his mind for a non-lethal way to eliminate this threat. “No? I didn’t think so. On the other hand, perhaps, the Batman could?” he asked, glancing past them. It was just enough, saying that name that drove fear into all their hearts, it gave him the distraction he needed to make a quick gesture, causing all the metal on the men in front of him to heat up red-hot, probably damaging the guns into a state that was dangerous to fire, and definitely making them too hot to continue holding. It was a start, at least, but driving them off when he was apparently outnumbered was going to be difficult without killing one. By all appearances, after all, he was in a very desperate situation, cornered as he was by a small mob of men.
Mar 2 2017, 09:48 AM
Zachariah was becoming increasingly aware that he was just never happy with wherever he was. In Nanda Parbat, the place that he most decidedly called home, he lamented the lack of peers, of people he could truly relate to. This, he supposed, was the reason that he sympathized with Malcolm Merlyn’s constant presence in America rather than Nanda Parbat. When one was the Demon’s Head, all that you could find around you were, for the most part, underlings, and that grew tiresome, he supposed. On the flip side, away from Nanda Parbat, he missed the structure of the League, and so he found himself staying in one place or another until it grew unbearable, then returning to Nanda Parbat until it grew unbearable. Thus, he chose to give his report to Ra’s Al Ghul in person, rather than by messenger, and to see what else Malcolm needed of him. Besides… he was on Talia’s radar now. Making certain that Malcolm was aware of his presence and work, and thus would miss his sudden absence, was decidedly conducive to his continued existence.
He waited to be admitted, then entered, the cane that held so very many usefully enchanted parts in his hand as always. “My Lord,” Zachariah said, bowing as he approached. “You will be pleased to know that the restoration of the Lazarus Pit has moved from theory to practice. It is not quite clear yet how long the process will take, but the process will be successful.” He let the newest Ra’s Al Ghul process that information, then looked around this newest setting. “I trust that this city is treating you well?” he asked, probing gently.