[center][img]http://i33.photobucket.com/albums/d94/Malfoys_one_and_only_girl/Signatures/Jafar_3.gif[/img][/center] [center][h1][color=Firebrick]Jafar Sholeh - Present Day - The Moors Castle[/color][/h1][/center] [color=firebrick] The sudden outburst of Jadis' bold entrance had Jafar's head turning, clutching onto his cobra-headed staff with both hands in a defensive stance. His dark eyes fell upon the Witch's figure, a snarl curling over his lip as utter detestation for the woman began to boil the blood in his veins. He wasn't sure what it was, but there was something about the woman that set his hairs on end; something he just simply didn't like. She was beautiful, yes, but her mere presence set something off in him he didn't quite understand other than she was trouble. Trouble for him, trouble for Maleficent. She was a wild dog without a leash, and wild dogs, if not able to be tamed, needed to be put down. So perhaps it was sheer protectiveness that kept him hating the Queen; an overpowering instinct that drove him to always want [i]his[/i] Queen in high spirits. "I'd have chosen [i]cooler[/i] words if I were you, Witch. Now things are [i]really[/i] starting to [i]heat[/i] up!" The eyes of his staff began to glow, the makings of a powerful fire spell starting up, hoping to melt the Queen where she stood. But just as Maleficent had said, they had another visitor - though he didn't believe either of these rabble to be the visitor she had initially spoken of. Hans... By Allah, he didn't have the patience for the man today. True, he was perhaps one of Maleficent's most loyal and trust-worthy followers, but with everything else going on, very little was left of Jafar's slowly freying rope. He was there for a report? Reports could be sent via letter! Or mirror... [i]anything[/i] really that kept the nit-wits out of their castle. And he knew Maleficent shared his thoughts by the way she was steadily increasing in her mood, once again. At first he was rather amused, her taking out her anger on them, but then when he saw his own throne being chucked in their direction, all three of them, Jafar began to think otherwise. The Macaw took flight from his shoulder, not wanting to have anything to do with the squabble that was taking place, and took refuge in the raftors high above, squawking as he did. "Rwaaah! Dragon! Dragon! Rwaaah!" Turning on his heel, Jafar stretched out both of his hands, the right still holding onto his staff but flexed what fingers he could in the direction of the flying, royal furnature. He didn't care much for the others as he did himself, but there was no way he was going to allow his own throne to take him out. The wood splintered and cracked, and by a force of magic, the throne was suddenly reduced to shrapnel, exploding outwardly until eventually even the shrapnel that began to fly succumbed into nothing more than dust that slowly flitted to the polished marble at their feet. His chest heaved and his eyes grew wide. Out? She wanted them out? The other two he could understand, but it seemed that not even his presence could calm her as it normally did. He was getting ready to do as she said, however her next harsh, bitter words had him stopping immediately. He was to stay. His dark, brown eyes glanced at the other two. If his own fear of Maleficent's wrath wasn't enough of an indicator as to how serious she was, then he didn't know what would be. So he simply stayed put, awaiting his next command - the ever obedient servant. [/color]