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Post by Marguerite on Mar 5, 2008 0:31:40 GMT -5
"Just herd them into the creek," Paquette advised, reluctantly picking up her own, beribboned, shepherdess crook. She didn't actually herd them herself because Paquette generally found that other people would do the work if she let them.
In this case, the non-dead, still-flaming sheep all mysteriously ceased to flame. Paquette barely blinked. Well, whatever. Work got done and she didn't have to do it. She'd probably have to heal the blasted, woolly nuisances later, which was bothersome, but really, a good price to pay for having done absolutely nothing but shout and look cross in the face of a dragon attack.
"Oh, thank you," Paquette said cheerily, turning to Alexander. "I don't see why you couldn't've done it before Nellie had to strip, but, thanks anyways." Knight? Oh, right. "Oh, I suppose we ought to? Come on, Nellie. Put your dress back on, at least. You'll catch your death."
She followed after them and frowned at the fallen dragon. "So he actually managed it? Good on him. He seemed rather a pathetic excuse for a chevalier, poor lamb."
Gavin, meanwhile, had heard all this, but, in the ensuing earth tremors when the dragon hit the ground, Gavin had fallen off of his horse, and the dragon had fallen on top of him.
His attempts to crawl out from under the dragon proved spectacularly unsuccessful, particularly since his helmet somehow got twisted around and he couldn't see a thing. For all he knew, he was burrowing under the dragon and about to be crushed by several tons of fire-breathing flying lizard.
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Post by Princess Katie on Mar 6, 2008 0:09:05 GMT -5
Nellie stared at Paquette as if she were the one standing in her underwear. “Tha’ dress is all wet, if y’thinks I’m puttin’ it on now, yer mad.”
But, for modesty’s sake, she did put her squishy stockings back on. Much better.
The whole stressed-and-angry thing seemed to be completely forgotten. She cartwheeled on ahead of the other two, stopping just short of the dragon. Gavin was no where to be seen, so she made the official prognosis, “HE WAS EATED!” She shouted back at Paquette and Alexander. “HE WAS EATED AN NOW THE DRAGON IS TAKIN’ AN AFTERDINNER NAP.”
Nellie walked backward as she yelled, which of course, wasn’t the best idea. She tripped right over Vic, who was kneeling in the grass, picking through the shards of lance, looking for a loose tooth or claw. Already a bit hesitant around the Dragon, she nearly had a heart attack when she fell onto something organic. She screamed shrilly, toppling forward. Vic had been so absorbed in his trophy-hunt that he also got quite startled. However, centuries of daily acting allowed him to hide it rather well. With reflexes that could lead one to believe he actually was some sort of adventurer, he caught Nellie around the waist before she hit the ground and gave her a winning smile.
Nellie seemed rather unimpressed, “Wot do you fink yer doin?” she asked, slapping his hand away.
Vic looked surprised. Girls usually reacted more…swoonishly. “I saved you, Miss.”
“Pfffft,” Nellie dismissed, “From the two-foot fall t’ the groun’?”
“I—“
“Wot ‘appened to the knight?” She demanded, obviously uninterested in whatever it was he was about to say.
“Knight?” He asked, rather convincingly, “Miss, I haven’t seen a knight. Only a dragon and a half-dressed young girl. What happened to your clothes?”
“None of yer business!”
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Post by Marguerite on Mar 6, 2008 0:21:31 GMT -5
"What did the dragon do with the armor, then?" Paquette asked, moving forward and poking the dragon in the side with the end of her shepherdess crook.
She lifted a shapely shoulder in a shrug. "Well, whatever. Dragon dealt with." And with very little personal convenience to her! How lovely.
"Nellie!" Paquette turned and crossed her arms, vaguely put out. "I told you to get dressed. My apologies, sir. Did you kill the dragon?" She sent a half-hearted glare in Alexander's direction. "This man's dragon?"
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Post by Miss Jack on Mar 6, 2008 0:26:57 GMT -5
First a knight, and now Indiana Jones, just flown in from Uruguay? What was this? The Justice League? A bit irritably, Alexander gave Paquette a sidelong glance. "He's not my dragon. I just happen to have known him. And he's not dead, or sleeping." He walked over to the dragon, pressing a hand against the dragon's underbelly, still shifting, barely noticeable, with breath. "Sir Sparkles-A-Lot must have actually got a good hit in...." His brows furrowed in confusion. It was a bit.... odd that the knight had vanished.
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Post by Princess Katie on Mar 7, 2008 0:07:34 GMT -5
“Not dead or sleepin’? Wot, pray tell, is he doin’ then? He certainly ain’t playin’ hopscotch,” Nellie commented flippantly, poking at the dragon a little.
Vic gave Paquette his propaganda-poster hero-smile, before turning to Alexander. “I’m afraid I might’ve knocked your dragon out, Your Highness,” he said, not at all apologetically. “I heard someone screaming—“
“Tha’ was me,” Nellie interrupted, quite proudly.
“Yes, well. I heard her screaming, and saw this creature running this way, so I shot down this,” he nudged a large branch, conveniently near by, “branch. It must have hit him just right, because it appears he’s out cold.” No, no. No need to thank me, ladies. It’s all part of my job.
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Post by Marguerite on Mar 7, 2008 1:40:17 GMT -5
"Oh, alright, the dragon His Highness knows," Paquette corrected. She eyed the dragon speculatively before catching the tail-end of vic's smile and explination.
Shot down a treebranch? Eh?
Well, whatever. "Thank you, sir. The dragon set our sheep on fire, which was just so dreadfully inconvenient since we had to put them out again."
At that point in time, Gavin managed to crawl out from under the dragon and wobble to his feet. He held up his visor with both hands and blinked, rather dazedly.
After a moment, he said, "You owe me two lances. And that dragons seriously needs to go on Atkins or something."
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Post by Miss Jack on Mar 7, 2008 15:02:53 GMT -5
'Not my dragon,' had been on his lips, but he shrugged. Why bother? He listened to Vic's tale, not really believing him, but also not really caring. And then Gavin crawled out from the bottom of the dragon.
He didn't laugh outright, because he didn't want Nellie yelling at him again, and jabbing him with that bow-covered crook of doom, but his shoulders trembled slightly with suppressed amusement. Only in the Isle of Morpheus would this even be happening.
He was not bored.
He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow at Gavin. "Me? I don't owe you anything. And it's all those damsels in distress he eats. Its his vice."
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Post by Princess Katie on Mar 8, 2008 1:29:59 GMT -5
Vic pointedly became very interested in the fringe of his Peruvian scarf as Gavin removed himself from underneath the dragon. He hated it when things had to blatantly disprove his story. Nellie stared at Gavin, rather shocked. “You went frough that dragon real quick like. I bet that was really unpleasant, wunnit?”
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Post by Marguerite on Mar 8, 2008 1:37:17 GMT -5
"Very," Gavin agreed, not quite catching onto the whole passing through the digestive system business.
"Look, lances are expensive."
Paquette rolled her eyes. "Fine. Take this." She passed over her shepherdess crook. "There you go."
"It's not pointy," Gavin complained.
"Then sharpen it. See? Problem solved. You didn't get digested, this man won the glory of knocking out a dragon, our sheep don't catch on fire- see? Win-win situation for everyone but the sheep."
Gavin dazedly turned to Vic. "Hang on. You knocked out a dragon?"
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Post by Miss Jack on Mar 8, 2008 1:41:04 GMT -5
"Yeah," Alexander put in helpfully, "those things are pretty formidable weapons."
He turned an expectant gaze to Vic, wondering if he'd still attempt to take credit. And how had Gavin managed to get underneath the dragon in the first place?
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Post by Princess Katie on Mar 9, 2008 0:28:09 GMT -5
Vic looked decidedly uncomfortable, apparently about to make some sort of excuse, “Well, I—“
Nellie, paying no regard to the common courtesies of speaking orders, blatantly interrupted. “He did. Somefin’ about a tree branch er sumfin’ an.. ak-chally, I don’ know, I stopped lis’nin’ to him bout ‘alf way frough.”
Vic wondered if it would be more beneficial to stay and argue or to make up a hasty excuse and run back to his Curtis-Wright P-60. The latter was seeming like a muccchhhh better idea. Now, for an excuse.
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Post by Marguerite on Mar 9, 2008 16:31:34 GMT -5
Gavin looked down at his beribboned... new lance. Oh joy.
"Alright. I need an asprin. If the damn thing's not dead, get this guy to do something about it. I've done my dramatic rescues for the day."
He looked around a little dazedly. "Where's my horse?"
Paquette shrugged. "Somewhere. Probably not here."
"Right." Gavin blinked. "Well, please don't call me again if you need help." He turned and stumbled off.
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