latverianregent:

As a rule, Kristoff Venard did not do magic. No matter how much he knew, or how hard he worked, he did not do it very well. It had something to do with his accursed natural father; that was the impression Doom gave. Doom took it in stride and simply muttered that Kristoff was all the stronger for managing with inferior genes.

So Kristoff didn't do much magic, as he he was educated in the arts enough to know how inelegant and clumsy he was, and he hated seeing himself that way.

As a rule, Kristoff would also never betray a confidence. Especially that of a potential ally of the Master of Latveria.

And yet here he is. Doing both. He corrects himself. His word was never exacted by Jericho. But that only made talking about Doom's potential associates behind his back marginally easier.

The spell was cast clumsily and inelegantly and Kristoff hated it, but it was done well enough to work.

black_prince:

Blackheart was no longer in Ghudaza. He was at the "true" corporate headquarters of Diabolus, a pocket dimension bordeing the Material plane and his home-realm. Blackheart sat upon a black-iron throne as he gazed at various images, each concerning one of his company's interests. Oscorp's aquisition had brought many young minds to his cause. He'd simply have to cultivate them to see his point of view. Blackheart waved his hand and brought one of the images in his direct line of sight. The image was of Ghudazan prsident, Dhamir Ndroso's flight to the United States to confer with American politicians concerning policies toward mutants.

"You know what you must do." He stated to the massive figure behind him.

"Yes. I'll make it look good, create a few matyrs, but Mr. Ndroso will remain unharmed. As per your wish."

"Exactly. Serve me well and I'll grant you true life again." Blackheart replied back.

"Oh don't worry about that. You are strong, certainly worthy to be served." A golden hand reached up and crushed the image in its grip. "Besides, I'd kill flatscans for fun."