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Post by Miss Jack on Mar 2, 2008 23:55:49 GMT -5
Boredom was a treacherous ailment to come down with. And he seemed to get infected an unusual amount. It wasn't that he had a short attention span (okay, maybe), it was more the fact that he'd become addicted to that giddy sense of adrenaline when something wasn't boring.
Take flying for example.
A very unboring pasttime.
And flying on the back of a dragon, even less so. Firebreath the Fearsome was a Nightmare created in medieval times, when everyone was afraid of being roasted to death by fire-breathing dragons. His scales were scorching to the touch, but since Alexander's core just so happened to be the infernos of hell, he didn't mind.
Firebreath breathed and smoke belched into the air. Alexander played with it, doodling with his fingers.
"I am bored," Firebreath said. "Let's light something on fire."
Ah, yes. The universal answer to everything (even the meaning of life).
They were flying over Dreamland now. The perfect target. "Mm... hold on," Alexander said, craning his neck to see better. "Wait--- the candy apple orchids. And then--" Here he broke out in laughter akin to that of a very mad scientist. "NO. The sheep pastures. I know this girl, she's the most hilarious girl you've ever met. You'd love her."
"Doubt it."
"Well, anyway, let's go tease her sheep. Nothing too damaging. I like her. But maybe singe their flourescent fur a little?"
Firebreath didn't answer, but instead dove straight for the ground. A flock of colorful sheep grazed about the field. A stream of fire lit from his snout, and grazed the tips of several sheep's tails. Number 12's wool caught on fire.
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Post by Princess Katie on Mar 3, 2008 0:21:15 GMT -5
Sitting in the pasture, on a hill overlooking the sheep, and screeching out something that bore some sort of resemblance to a tune on the pennywhistle can only entertain Nellie for so long. Suddenly, she had enough of mauling the peace of the pasture, and tossed the whistle atop her hat and slippers, which sat a few feet away. “Paquette! Ain’tcha bored? Please, let’s play Cat’s Cradle, you want to play Cat’s Cradle? LET’S!”
In half a second, she whipped the ribbon-choker off of her neck and fashioned it into a circle, perfect for Cat’s Cradle. Deftly, she laced it around her fingers in the typical three-x starting position. “Putcher hand frough the middle, kay? Let’s make the teacu—“ Nellie didn’t get to finish her superfungametime planning, however, as one of her sheep quite suddenly caught fire.
DRAGON!? And she had been worried about wolves all this time! Nellie screamed and dropped the ribbon she was holding. Number Twelve, now a living sheep-match, was clumped with several other sheep, who caught fire in turn. Panic spread through the flock in the form of mass bleating and running in circles.
Nellie more or less did the same.
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Post by Marguerite on Mar 3, 2008 0:29:09 GMT -5
Paquette, dozing in a patch of comfortable grass with her broad-brimmed straw hat tipped down, over her eyes, apathetically lifted a hand. "Oh, alright. Here. Hand. Finger. Do what you wi-"
At that point in time, Nellie started to scream, and Paquette had less experience sleeping through shrieks of terror than Nellie's poor excuse for flute skills.
"Oh, what now?" Paquette asked tetchily. When Nellie continued to scream in response, Paquette scowled and pushed up her hat. "This better be-"
She sat up and stared at the suddenly flaming flock of sheep, her eyebrows nearly disappearing into her powdered hairline. Rather irately, she exclaimed, "Well, bother!" and failed to do anything but stare at the dragon hovering over the sheep. "Nellie! Calm down."
Paquette cupped her hands around her mouth. "Oi! Dragon! Get away from our sheep!"
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Post by Miss Jack on Mar 3, 2008 0:50:42 GMT -5
As Firebreath swooped, Alexander jumped, landing with perfect agility behind Nellie and Paquette. Containing his laughter, but not really, he placed a hand on Nellie's shoulder, effectively cutting her little run around short. "Relax, Clementine." He turned his snicker into a cough. He waved a hand and the flames dancing on the sheep's backs died, leaving only smoky tendrils in their wake. As if he hadn't been the one that told the dragon to attack in the first place.
He glanced at Paquette, seeming to notice her for the first time. "Who's your friend?" He waved, winking. She was cute. A flash of orange caught his eye. "Aaaah..." He started to laugh again, and tried to make a "cut-it-out" gesture at the dragon that wouldn't be totally obvious. Apparently, Firebreath wasn't through with his fun. Another sheep had caught ablaze.
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Post by Princess Katie on Mar 3, 2008 1:21:01 GMT -5
Despite Paquette’s scolding, Nellie kept on screaming. This was the WORST. Not only did they have several gaps in the numbering now, (really who can fall asleep when they’re trying to follow a flock that reads 1-4-5-6-9-14-17?) but her parents were going to be so mad.
“PAQUETTE THE SHEEPS IS BURNIN! LIKE BAD!” She screamed, waving her arms about frantically. Both her running and screaming jolted to a stop as Alexander grabbed her shoulders, and stared at him, her mouth still open in a silent scream. “Alexander…?!”
This was the worst thing ever. Ever ever ever! “Issat YER dragon maulin me sheeps? MAKE IT STOP!”
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Post by Marguerite on Mar 3, 2008 1:22:54 GMT -5
Paquette glared at the newcomer, quite Put Out by the sudden incineration of their sheep, no matter if it had been mysteriously put out. "I'm Paquette, Nellie's cousin," she replied, coolly. Paquette stood and stretched, lifting her arms above her head, before dropping a short, laconic sort of curtsey. "And you are?"
She smelled burning wool just as Nellie started screaming again. Paquette turned and glared back down at the sheep, newly aflame. Paquette stamped her foot and cupped her hands around her mouth. "Oh, do stop setting fire to the sheep already, dragon. What did they ever do to you? I bet they wouldn't even taste good. All you're doing is burning the wool and you're not going to get anything out of it! It's a load of wasted effort!"
---------------
Gavin, meanwhile, made his weekend rounds in his new and improved armor, feeling as much of an idiot as ever.
Fortunately, though, he'd gotten through most of the morning without any incident and....
A burning sheep ran in front of his horse.
Crap.
Gavin spurred his horse into a gallop and grimaced. Dragons. At least it was only a bit past noon; he'd be at full strength. He sincerely hoped there wouldn't be any virgin sacrifices nearby. They did carry on so and usually distracted Gavin long enough for the dragon to realize just how much a knight-in-once-shining-I-swear-now-sort-of-dingy-armor looked like canned meat.
"Do you need any help?" he called at random, galloping forward towards the flaming flocks.
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Post by Miss Jack on Mar 3, 2008 1:37:18 GMT -5
Geez. Frosty, much? Not too put out, he dipped himself into an extravagant bow. "Alexander Ira."
The dragon laughed a deep, smoky laugh and swooped closer to Paquette. "Shows what you know. Have you ever tasted.... lamb?"
"Heh.... uh, yeah. Definitely not my dragon," Alexander said to Nellie. He hurriedly tried to cancel out Firebreath's damage.
And then the knight appeared. Really. A knight. It was almost too ironic to be possible, but there he was. Alexander stared at him in disbelief and the dragon chuckled. "Oh, I love knights."
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Post by Princess Katie on Mar 3, 2008 2:01:44 GMT -5
“Well, you flewed in on it, ‘owsit not yer dragon?” Nellie screeched, truly angrier than mostly anyone has ever seen her. How could Alexander just laugh this off? And the Dragon was totally eating up her sheep! This was no time to try and flirt with her cousin. Nellie was prepared to sock Alexander as hard as she could (her arms were fairly buff from all that butter-churning), but was stopped when she heard a semi-familiar voice yelling. Nellie followed Alexander’s line of vision. The Ingrate Knight! Nellie had never been happier to see him. Especially since this was the second time shed even seen him.
“OH, MR. KNIGHT!” She screamed, waving her handkerchief at him. “WE NEEDS ‘ELP, LIKE FOR REAL THIS TIME.”
Nellie, feeling a little reassured, turned to glare at Alexander. She put her hands on her hips, positively smoldering with pastel anger. “’E’s gonna kill yer dragon. Kill it dead.”
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Post by Marguerite on Mar 3, 2008 19:38:13 GMT -5
Paquette's blonde eyebrows shot up into her powdered hairline. Ira? As in royal family?
She considered dipping into a slightly deeper curtsey, but she decided that it would be a waste of energy and fluttered her fingers at him instead. "A pleasure, I'm sure, Your Highness. Look, call off the thing, would you?"
Hands on hips, gray eyes narrowed, Paquette glared up at the dragon. "Well I've never cooked on a counting sheep on my own, with the wool on. That just sounds disgusting."
Paquette became aware of the knight's existance as he galloped closer to them. "Oh yes! Defeat the dragon, would you?"
Gavin, wishing that he could just stuff his armor and forget about it, raised his lance to show he heard, and promptly rode off into the woods.
Paquette stared after him. "That was unhelpful."
Moments later, Gavin galloped out from the woods to the back of the dragon, lowered his lance, and charged. He stuck his lance in the dragon's hide, then galloped around to retrieve his lance.
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Post by Miss Jack on Mar 3, 2008 19:47:25 GMT -5
Alexander narrowed his eyes. "Why, Clementine, that sounded postively Nightmarish." His attention was momentarily averted as the knight galloped from the trees, lance poised.
Firebreath snarled as the lance jabbed into his side. One fierce clamp of the jaw and the lance shattered into several pieces before promptly turning to ash. With a roar, he turned on Gavin, blowing out a stream of fire directly in the knight's path. Alexander smirked, turning to Nellie. "You were saying?"
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Post by Marguerite on Mar 3, 2008 20:03:06 GMT -5
"Oh, crap," Gavin muttered as his horse reared back. He shook out his slightly burned hand and wheeled his horse around. Disctract the dragon! Distract the dragon!
Then run... er, gallop, like hell.
Gavin managed to unstrap his spare lance from behind his saddle and, grasping the reigns in one hand, used the other to wave the lance at the dragon. "Come and get me, you big, scalely fire-breathing bully!" Gavin shouted, before realizing that he really did look like a microwavable dinner in foil. Craaaaaap.
He dug his heels into his horse's sides and galloped like hell.
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Post by Miss Jack on Mar 3, 2008 20:11:37 GMT -5
Firebreath made a rough, scaly noise that might have been laughter, before turning his massive head to Alexander. "I'll be back...." Alexander lifted a hand in a half-hearted wave. There would definitely be no denying it now.
The dragon pursued Gavin, keeping up easily with his wings propelling him against the wind. "Usually I don't like canned meat, but in your case I'll make an exception," he growled, the flames of his words nipping at the horse's tail.
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Post by Marguerite on Mar 3, 2008 20:22:24 GMT -5
"Crap!" Gavin exclaimed, his horse kicking up its backlegs. "Forward, you git! Forward!"
He dug his heels into the horses's side again and risked a look back. Good. They were pretty darn far from the sheep now. He couldn't even see anyone anymore.
"Okay, you've done this before," Gavin told his horse encouragingly. "Come on, I know that you can do this instead of throwing me off or falling over...."
He pulled sharply on the reigns, causing the horse to rear and whirl around. Gavin hit the dragon across the face with his second lance, the lance itself shattering with the force of the impact.
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Post by Princess Katie on Mar 4, 2008 0:18:09 GMT -5
Oh yeah, she forgot that Gavin wasn’t the gung-ho sort of storybook knight. Nellie squeaked as he almost got barbequed, but her concern was admittedly more for the future of her sheep than for Gavin. She fixed Alexander with a scowl and jabbed his foot with the butt of her crook, “Y’just shut yer mouf! Whatter ya finkin’, bringin a dragon down here? Donchu have somfin better ta do?”
Now, Nellie had been taught how to do pretty much everything on the farm, not excluding helping the chocolate milk cows give birth. However, for whatever reason, she had never been instructed on the proper way to extinguish a burning sheep. So she had to rely on her vast amounts of common sense.
She leapt to action, not even wasting time with her slippers or bonnet. With her usual amount of energy plus the adrenaline supplied by panic, she ran faster than the burning Twelve to the little pond in the middle of the pasture, removing her little embroidered apron and her mint and pink stockings as she did so. Her overskirt, underskirts, and bodice-jacket were removed after she reached the pond, and the now half-dressed Shepherdess soaked the whole lot thoroughly in the water. Quicker than before (she had fewer layers to slow her down this time), she ran back to the burning sheep.
She tossed a skirt over three sheep in full flame, a stocking on a slightly smoldering sheep, and the jacket on one who was probably a goner anyway. Her plan worked to an extent, but she had fewer clothes than she did sheep.
So now she was just sort of awkwardly standing in her bloomers, chemisette, and corset, starng at the bleating and flaming sheep.
“I ‘ate this,” she muttered dejectedly. “Le’s go see if the dragon ate that knight fella.”
---
Vic was pumped. This artifact was genuine (he had to know his subject matter to lie so fantastically about it) and he had totally bought it off some old lady in Dreamer’s Hell for a percent of what she should have charged. He already had half of the story worked out.
I was in the ruins of Tenochtitlán, fighting off Undead Aztec Warriors with just a sharpened rock and my wits, when—
"Come and get me, you big, scaly fire-breathing bully!"
Victor paused. That was not part of his story. Best investigate.
He pushed his goggles up over his aviator helmet, stowed the ancient Aztec knife in the inner pocket of his bomber jacket, and rather stealthily slunk over to where the noises were coming from. He peeked around the trunk of a large apple tree, and was nearly floored. That was a no-joke dragon, there. They usually didn’t hang much around these parts, too many knights and princes to slay them. Oh and speaking of knights, this dragon seemed to be engaged in battle with one right now.
Nice! Hopefully Sir In-Shining-Armor could knock a tooth loose for him, and Vic could retrieve it after the battle. Or if he killed it, and didn’t take it’s head back to some king in order to win the hand of his beautiful daughter, Vic could take a piece of its hide.
Now what smelled like burning wool?
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Post by Miss Jack on Mar 4, 2008 22:22:48 GMT -5
Firebreath stiffened as something hard and narrow unexpectedly made contact with his skull. He opened his mouth to let loose a flaming fury, but spots erupted in front of his eyes and he toppled over. Thankfully, his last thoughts turned out the lights when they left.
"Ow!" Alexander hissed as he got jabbed in the foot with her crook. His first impression had obviously been right about the bow-covered weapon. It was lethal. "Nothing is better than visiting you...." He began to explain, but trailed off as she jumped into the creek.
This is not a laughing matter, he reminded himself, and bit his lip. "Good idea," he said, doubting the dragon really ate the knight. Firebreath thought they were gamey. With a casual flick of his wrist, Alex dispersed the flames off the two wayward sheep that Nellie's efficient technique had missed.
When they came upon the remnants of the "battle", Alexander frowned. Firebreath was slumped over on the ground. "Hey---" he began. He was going to be more than a little ticked off if his dragon was dead, but then the tiniest wisp of smoke left Firebreath's nostril. Alive then. But definitely not conscious.
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