[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
ii.
iii.
v. wildcard
( hmu w/ whatever — i'm at
kirbies if you'd like to plot! )
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

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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. ]
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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]
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[ 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.
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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]
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[ 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?
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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.
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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.
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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.]
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he's slightly gladdened that soren read his intentions as to getting cleaned up, there. but regardless, ]
Set me down! I can walk.
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[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.]
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[ 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!! ]
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Gonna throw you in the sink with some... warm water? It's supposed to be warm for a dragon, right?
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[ 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.
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Soren is still proceeding to the kitchen. There's a big ol' sink there. He could probably turn the water on to boil. Probably.]
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... 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.
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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.]
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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? ]
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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]
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[ 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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I'm going to get you some of my clothes. That'll be something.
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it's been about a minute now. viren hops off, landing with a slight slip of a stumble. he's darts off into another room; it's time to explore soren's place, mostly looking for something other than a dirty dishrag to dry himself on. ... or that bathroom. ]
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Or that's what he was doing before he sees a very familiar sad looking dragon. Even wetter than the last time he saw him.]
Did you get lost?
[It still doesn't occur to him this is Viren. But he definitely doesn't remember this dragon living in his house? So obviously the first thought he's going to have is: a little lost dragon.]
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And there's muddy, little, wet footprints trailing there!
He marches on over! Towel and clothing under his arm]
I doubt it! What are you doing, dad? I told you to wait, sheesh. [yep. Dad. That horrible looking creecher.]
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I'm looking for the bathroom.
[ viren's eyes have grown wide glancing from juza— to soren, and having been prepared to take a step back or make a quick exit, reconsiders that as his son hovers in the door. ]
[ except he's marching over, and viren's not nearly skittish enough to dart under juza's bed to hide. woops! he hopes that's a towel that's going to buffet against his fur. he's tensing, preparing to be scooped up again. ]
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["Dad"? Dad? That whole time it was Viren?
He picked up Viren like a cat. He didn't know this sad little dragon was Viren the whole time and now he has to process it. At least he won't say anything more out loud, if only because at this point it way too embarrassing to admit he had no idea who the dragon was.]
's a couple doors down from here.
[He looks between Soren and Viren and considers if he wants to get into the middle of all of this.]
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