middaeg | [OPEN] march log

Entry tags:

[OPEN] march log

Who: viren & you!
When: mid-march, eostre fesival
Where: various places!!
What: dragon viren and obviously being the life of parties
Warnings: none for now!

i

[ there's an undead lizard? a wet, feral cat? blocking the path. taking a closer look at this thing, it's a bit hideous. at least, compared to its fellow dragons. its scales look mottled, patches of dark purples and blacks streaking through its coat, and its tail spiny and serpentine. its wings are equipped with unpleasant hooks, the wings' fingers elongated and sharp, their leather worn with holes. not even its fur manages a consistent lack of color. ]

[ but if familiar with the signs — it almost could look like it's cwyld-infected. it receives anxious glances from passerby, others nimbly giving it a healthy berth. it may be the size of a cat, but it does, apparently, have an innate skill in keeping people out of its path. that, and its lower half remains coated with mud, brought on by an recent heavy rain. ]

[ when the dragon appears to recognize someone, its pitch eyes grow wide. it trots near, leaving muddy tracks in its wake. ]

Excuse me. [ ... ah, it's a deep voice. the dragon sits, its head slightly bowed. if one can read dragonic expressions, it looks -- very reluctantly humbled, even if its tone remains lofty. its claws sink into the ground. ] I need your assistance.

ii.

[ his shifting, and the rains, eventually take their toll on viren; it's a fairly miserable existence he's been made to live this week, forced into a form that, while he's beginning to grow accustomed to it, he might also resent. ]

[ when the weather's beaming with brightness again, he crawls to a sunny patch of earth. one may spot a small dragon curled up into a tight ball, its snout tucked beneath a paw -- he can be found in some grass of someone's backyard, in gardens, perhaps even snoozing on a secluded bench. ]

iii.

[ viren doesn't think he needs a reprieve (certainly not!) from anything earlier in the month, but the crowds of eostre draw his attention regardless. even if it would typically be something much too noisy for his tastes, dragonic instincts win out, as they're prone to do—

and so he's found himself there some early evening, a cup of that sweet liquor in hand. perhaps consciously compensating for the disarray of the last few weeks, he's dressed neatly, pulling out some of his better clothes for the festivities. unfortunately, even if he isn't the main target (just a target), someone thinks to dump a flower crown atop his head. with the shape of his horns, it's almost like a fun (and very high stakes!) ring toss. a few petals fall to shoulders, some floating onto the surface of his drink. ]

[ with a heavy sigh, aggrieved as he is, viren plucks it from atop his head. he turns to someone near, ]

Would you like this?

[ or else, what with his accompanying gesture, it might get tossed to the bushes. ]

v. wildcard
( hmu w/ whatever — i'm at

kirbies if you'd like to plot! )

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[ viren, in whatever oddball dream his brain's adopting external stimuli into, feels the prod of bristles against his flank. his slumber's deep enough that it may take a few pokes. ]

[ but eventually, the thing begins to shift and stir. looks like it might be alive, after all. ]

[Urhghghh- It's moving! Okay, well, not dead... but maybe close to it. Soren doesn't quite connect that the cwyld by appearance, but even he can tell it doesn't look right or healthy.

He bops it gently with the broom twice more before thinking it might actually need help.]

Okay, uh, little buddy. Keep holding still. [Though he didn't like the idea of using magic in general, turns out he was really needing to find some outlet for it. He'd asked about the Wilders and received some basic lessons how healing magic, though he'd barely tried his hand with it. This thing could probably use help.

And if he messes up, well, it was probably going to die anyways? Right?

He reaches to pet what he thinks is the creature's head, but it's more the square of his fluffy back. Healing... touch? Or something!]

[ there's the light pressure of a something on his back, which is easily dismissed; what's less easy to slumber through is the resulting zap to follow. the dragon jolts to life and onto his feet, the fur along its spine fluffing.

viren gives a vigorous shake of his head, trying to clear himself of the sensation (it had definitely been an energizing touch), muscles tensed. its only after another second or two that the dragon's eyes finally peep open, instantly fixing on the culprit, ]

Soren!

[When the creature jolts, so does Soren. He flinches away quickly and grabs the broom again, menacing the little thing.

Then there's that voice, saying his name. Nope!

WHAP.

What's the broom equivalent of a punt? Soren swings and straight up bats the dragon right into a bush.]

[ fwoof - viren gets swept straight into a bush, wings extending belatedly to buffet air, claws scrambling for purchase against the porch. what with the crash of leaves and twigs to follow, these attempts are in vain. ]

[ a few seconds later, if soren studies the area really closely: he might spy a pair of pitch black eyes, glinting against what little light the coverage allows, staring back at him between some leaves. the dragon doesn't yet emerge. ]

Do that again, [ accompanied by a tired growl. ] And I'm burning your room.

[ not a threat he makes lightly, but grounding soren for life for the eighty-seventh time no longer seems an option in their relationship. ]

Edited 2020-03-14 17:11 (UTC)

[Soren is absolutely not putting down the broom, but that does seem... just like something his dad would threaten. He swore it was just something like a parrot, mimicking a voice to mess with him.

Which would be preferable. The ominous glow of eyes from within the bush isn't exactly threatening, but he's not exactly rushing out to keep sweeping the creature away]

Is that actually you? What happened-? You look like a half dead raccoon...

[ when the broom no longer seems an immediate threat, he emerges into the sunlight again. the comment's met by a brief, deeper frown. truthfully, he's not unaccustomed to these reactions (even if he were human). "raccoon" is a new one, though.

the dragon stretches, extending its legs forward as its back arches. ]

While I was... [ pause, ] practicing, I was caught in a storm, [ part one. part two: become mini viren, which he skips over, because he thinks that's evident. part three, perhaps also apparent:: ] And my illusion charm wore off.

[ as happens when he assumes his dragon form, he's found. ]

Practicing what-? Turning into a dragon? [does that makes sense- is that how it works? Juza turned into a bear more on accident than purpose, but I guess that's probably something that can be controlled. Whatever, this is his dad, totally different.]

You starting small and working you're way up? [no bigger than Zym, right now... but Soren doesn't want to think about Viren becoming huge as Thunder was]

Y...es, I'm starting small and working my way up.

[ that's— definitely what had happened here, not him immediately trying to start huge and wasting a ridiculous amount of energy in that. he hopes that reply sounds convincing. ]

I know that dragons can become roughly the size of elephants, here; but no where as large as fearsome as the archdragons of our world.

[even if it wouldn't convince most, Soren is the exception. Sure. He'll accept that excuse,]

Not like in that dream then, either... [the one that chased them into a cave was much closer to Thunder's size, so even though an elephant is still huge, it's not that.]

... you need help? Like, getting out of that bush? [seems difficult to be that small. not to mention loaf shaped]

I'm all right.

[ he'd escaped the confines of the buch, and shakes a leg out, and then another, with some stray leaves fluttering to the ground. he still has some twigs and other plant debris caught in his fur, though; more tricky to just shake out. ]

[ —but he is somewhat taken aback by the inquiry. soren, offering to lend him a hand? hm. ]

[ viren's cold, black eyes trail along the porch, to linger on the door, and back to soren. ]

This would be your dwelling, then?

Yeah, it is... pff... [he can't help but snicker at his father's current appearance. A widdle dwaguuun- he can practically hear Claudia's voice. She'd be living this up, really.]

Sorry, sorry. Ahem, dad.... but Claudia would freak out if she saw you like that. She'd be swinging you around like a stuffed animal, I bet.

[ oh. ... oh. the mention of claudia's name draws a sharp look from viren - one that isn't mean, necessarily, but one that's more alert. obviously, he has yet to speak with anyone here, these last eight months, that know claudia. it's still jarring to hear her name in conversation (not unwelcome, though). otherwise, seems like soren's shock really did do the trick. ]

Well... [ he can't honestly deny that she wouldn't try. but— ] She shouldn't, at least with the others; even the dragons here, at this size, can break bones.

[ so... there's that. ]

[ he paws at the front door, leaving a dirty print behind. ]

Open the door, Soren.

Well, thanks for the warning. [he's going to promptly ignore it because this is his dad]

Don't start thrashing around. Let's get you dried off or whatever.

[Soren is admittedly far more soft towards this fluffy creature, even knowing it's his dad. Just difficult to be mad at, look at his little clawprint?? Still, he's about as gracious as ever, scooping Viren up in his arms and considering for just a moment before tucking him under an arm like a football.

Then he'll open the door to the ridiculous mansion he somehow acquired. The kitchen should have some towels and stuff, sure.]

[ don't start thrashing around? viren immediately starts doing that, particularly when he's tucked under an arm like a plaything. thankfully, no claws or teeth are (yet) involved.

he's slightly gladdened that soren read his intentions as to getting cleaned up, there. but regardless, ]

Set me down! I can walk.

Chill ooout! I got you. Besides, you're all sad and limpy. This is quicker!

[Soren is not dissuaded, but his father's chiding tone doesn't hit as hard coming from a half dead raccoon. He just tucks Viren more snugly to his hold, pinning Viren into his side so there's less room for him to Use Struggle.]

[ sad and limpy. ]

[ the thrashes are stifled. though he may talk big, even if he hasn't claimed it, viren doesn't actually have legendary dragon strength at his disposal; all in all, in this form he probably has all the strength of a particularly vigorous cat. ]

Bring me to the bathroom. And leave me there...

[ he doesn't know soren plans on the kitchen; he can clean himself!! ]

You're going to make a mess, I hate cleaning. [you are covered in mud and twigs, Viren! He doesn't want you flopping around his bathroom trying to operate all the knobs required to turn a sink or shower on, if they could even be reached]

Gonna throw you in the sink with some... warm water? It's supposed to be warm for a dragon, right?

I will clean it up.

[ at the mention of soren's plan, viren's entire body tenses. oh, gods. should this be an actual attempt on the horizon, soren shall witness thrashing the likes of which has never been seen. ]

Hot water, as hot as possible. [ he'd rather be dunked into a boiling kettle, honestly. tone lamentable, ] And being submerged...

[ ugh. ]

I need a cloth. Just let me... mop myself off.

With those little arms? Can you even hold a scrubber? [do you still have thumbs, Viren?

Soren is still proceeding to the kitchen. There's a big ol' sink there. He could probably turn the water on to boil. Probably.]

[ viren, admittedly, no longer has opposable thumbs. ]

... My tail. It's prehensile.

[ the way that its end is shaped means that it can be a bit clumsy in that, but he will force himself to make do. from tucked beneath his son's arm, viren stares at the sink, and then looks back up to soren. ]

At least so that I can see steam rising from it, please.

It's what-? Ew? What... [he has no clue what that means and thus he presumes it's tmi, dad.

On the upswing for Viren, it distracts him into turning the water on as hot as it will go. The magitech systems in this mansion are pretty advanced, so the sink is filling with steamy water in no time. Soren has a dish scrubber at the ready.]

[..]

It means it's capable of grasping.

[ viren almost didn't bother explaining, but there's been an ew factor thrown in here. viren eyes the scrubber, with an expression that says "get that shit away from me." ]

You have done more than enough by this point, Soren. [ is this praise? ]

[it's soooomething like praise. Which just makes Soren raise an eyebrow suspiciously. Still, he hands over the scrubber to that... grabby tail. Still weird.]

Are you going to turn back, after? You can't turn back now or you would have.... [then start walking around judging his house in that judgey dad way]

I can turn back now...

[ he thinks; he's somewhat less self-assured in that statement than his tone says -- but with the sleep and soren's.. zap, that's somewhere to start.

the tail curls around the scrubber's handle, reflexively. ]

But I don't have my clothes.

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ty soren

u r welcome

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