#interaction: goldoanheart

[peerlessscowl]

Falling With Style

With your newfound size come newfound troubles with logistics, in particular: how does one get around when you’re as tall as a thumb? The world itself is as grand as it’s ever been. There are, however, those among you who will no doubt see your fresh perspective as an opportunity. After all, how often is it you get a chance to ride a bird, a rabbit, or a squirrel? [ Grants Riding/Flying +1] 

(starter for @goldoanheart) 

They had to get to the roof somehow. He had been underground, which had very decidedly not held any answers, and so that meant that the only way up was, well. Up. 

Raven squinted into the late autumn sun, bringing a tiny arm up to shield his eyes from the expansive light. Everything was so much larger, the sun so much brighter, the wind so much colder. Best he could guess, they were somewhere in the veranda, given how much stone was around them, and the huge fields of grass nearby. This was good and bad. Good in that it meant he had an idea of where they were, but bad in the sense that this was near to footpaths, and all the more likely to be stepped on. 

His gut clenched at the thought – he had come all this way just to be stepped on? Like a pest, some insect? Absolutely not. 

"Hey," he called, seeing a fellow man-in-miniature nearby. After a quick jog over, ducking between crates and avoiding the impossibly large legs and sweeps of cloth from passing normal-sized monks, he managed to pull up beside the mini-man: a professor, he thought? A young man that he often saw in the Golden Deer classrooms, at the very least. "You too, is it? We need to get out of here. I...don't think we can take the stairs like we are right now, but I think we have to get up – to the archbishop's hall, if we can manage." 

Propping a hand on his hip, he looked around, sighed. There was rope nearby, though whether they were strong enough as they were to secure it to anything and use it to climb seemed almost as ridiculous as everything else happening. 

"I think we can climb it if we had to, but there's got to be an easier way. What do you think?" 

[tacticalmove]

Robin laughs a little, trying to shake off his own nerves and confusion. This conversation has gone entirely sideways.

"It's fascinating, really, to learn about a place where dragons could be so vastly different than they are where I'm from." Giving Kurth a sidelong look, he says, "But in the end, we're both dragons, despite it all."

Before he has a chance to talk himself out of asking, he has one final question. "Can you transform, at all? I can't, myself, but I've heard that some of the other dragons here still can."

snow covered dragons

[desertslegacy]

He smiles so brightly at her when she approaches and Igrene cannot help but feel warmed at the reception, his hands fitting neatly within hers. She felt that he had an aura about him, a familiarity, and she had felt it when they were in the toy shop as well. The boy was a dragon, no doubt about it, and certainly hundreds of years older than her - but he was a boy nonetheless.

She laughs at his excitement, and they move onto the dance floor. "I'm not particularly skilled a dancer myself, but it seems to me that this one is best taken slow. Let's be deliberate with our movements, and we'll be sure to master it in no time."

It feels wonderful, she thinks, partaking in a culture that is so like her own, but is so far from it - and she suspects that it is the same for professor Kurthnaga, as his eyes light up with each new movement. Perhaps one day, she thinks, it might be worth it to visit Hoshido.

@desertslegacy

[ Hoshido ] - A synchronized dance that must be done by two people. To a slow and gentle melody, the pair moves with fluid purpose, evoking the image of a crane in flight.

"Professor Kurthnaga." In greeting, Igrene presses a gentle kiss to the man's cheek, taking his hands in hers with a warm smile. She feels the shift as their brands interact, life being brought to the vines about their necks as the flowers bloom. "It is good to see you well. I wish circumstances were better. Perhaps soon we'll find a way out of this predicament as well, hm?"

She turns to the dance floor, eyes grazing across the many forms of movement on display. "Ah - see there? Those steps are lovely. Would you like to try to learn with me?"

"Ah, hello Lady Igrene." He smiles as a fiery red bloom blossoms across his vines, holding the woman's hand gently in his own. She was much bigger than he was, her hands reminding him of how his elder sister would hold his hand when he was younger.

"I'd love to! I'm not the best at dancing in the world, but I can certainly try!" Kurthnaga laughs softly, bouncing on the heels of his feet, suddenly excited at the thought of learning something new from the culture of another kingdom.

"Shall we then?"

[desertslegacy]

goldoanheart

Kurth walks quietly through the large shelves surrounding him, a small toy axe in hand, being as careful as he can to not get spotted. He's rather grateful that he was able to slip out when the elemental spirits were distracted with retrieving other 'toys', because he certainly didn't want to go home with them and end up some doll on a kid's shelf.

Luckily for him, after spotting that pair of them, he hasn't seemed to see anymore, leaving him free to try and find any sort of escape. Unfortunately, he isn't as lucky with that search as he was fleeing from the glass case he had been trapped in to begin with.

At the sound of a second pair of footsteps, he startles, before he remembers that the elementals do not indeed have feet at all. That must mean-!

He rounds the corner as quickly as he can, not caring that anyone may hear his own desperate footsteps, and breathes a sigh of relief as he sees a fellow professor of the academy. She's rather new, but he seems to recall that she belongs to the Black Eagles. And she certainly seemed dependable! At least if he had to find anyone, it was someone he could most likely rely on! He smiles, though he doesn't know if she can see it that well in the dark.

"Miss Igrene, right? My name is Kurthnaga, though I don't think introductions are the most important issue at hand right now. I... I would be terribly grateful if we could help each other find a way out of here!"

Igrene had managed to slip out of her case while the winds were arguing. It seemed a strange enough concept that this was not metaphorical but incredibly literal – massive beings that seemed comprised of rain and thunder and wind hovered before her case and bickered, gesturing angrily at each other and at her and at the cases on either side of her until they had rumbled across the room, turning the corner into a row of shelves. 

Though she isn't as accustomed to climbing from such heights, there are enough accoutrement in the cases surrounding her that she can fashion a rope to shimmy down from, landing gently on the ground far below. She casts her eyes up and about, curious for the moment how many like her are in this shop, trapped and with little recourse, but she shakes her head – even if there are, there is little she can do about it in her current state. She must focus on the task at hand, and escape. 

Her footfalls are soft as she moves about the shelves, and along the way she finds a pencil that had rolled to the ground. It's a bit clumsy in her hands, but for the time being it's serviceable as a staff, or a blunted lance. 

She crouches at the corner of one aisle, peering around cautiously, when the striking of tiny feet against the ground catches her ears, and she turns sharply to face another, just as small as she. Igrene recognizes his face, she thinks, if not his name, and at his introduction it comes to her, and she smiles. 

"Another professor, hm? For the Golden Deer, right? What a mess we are in, professor." She extends a hand to shake, and jerks her head in the direction she had been moving. "I've scouted only a little, but I don't think the entrance is going to be our best bet. I believe there is a window in this direction. If you've no objections, I'd be glad to have your help. Can you fight?" She adds, eyeing the tiny toy axe in his hands – no less feeble than her own makeshift weapon, but some facsimile of comfort, all the same. 

Toy Story 25

[tacticalmove]

"...oh!"

For the third or fourth time today (he's already lost count), Robin feels as though he's put his foot in his mouth. He really is not handling this whole "snowed in together with a stranger" situation very well at all... especially not the part that requires him to interact normally and hold a regular conversation.

Oh well. He's doing his best.

"...you see, where I'm from, Naga is the name of a Divine Dragon," he says, deciding it's best to just explain rather than to keep over-complicating things. "The descendants of Naga all carry her bloodline and a special mark to show they are part of her family."

A pause; then, "...and then there's the Fell Dragon, who is sort of bound to find Naga and her descendants in any life, and that's a whole.. thing..."

So much for not over-complicating. The back of his hand itches inside his glove, now, and Robin tries not to think about it, keeping a smile plastered on his face instead.

"...do you have Divine and Fell Dragons, where you're from?"

snow covered dragons

[tacticalmove]

Robin, too, finds that he automatically feels more comfortable with Kurthnaga knowing that they're both dragons. He relaxes the tension he didn't realize he was carrying in his neck and shoulders, and lets his guard down a bit as well. It's nice to be in the company of someone who is more like him than he originally realized.

Of course...

"Given your name," he says, "would it be prying too much to ask if you're a descendant of Naga?"

Normally, he can tell a bit more quickly if he's interacting with someone who has Naga's blood or not--namely because it severely agitates Grima. But this time, he can't be sure.

snow covered dragons

[peerlessscowl]

They didn't make it far before from the corner of his eye Raven saw the flutter of wings as Kurthnaga's mount darted away and into the autumn sky. Panic gripped him immediately, and he did risk turning to look over his shoulder, fist bunched into the thick feathers of his bird's neck, prepared to make some attempt to wrench the bird back in an arc to catch the young man who was surely plummeting to his death. 

For that, Kurthnaga seemed eerily calm, and Raven felt a pierce of despair at what seemed like his acceptance – but before his eyes the young man shifted and grew and changed entirely, wings sprouting from his back as the rest of him became black and scaled. 

As the beast came rushing up through the air to meet him, the bird underneath him screeched and fluttered in its terror, its wings beating against him as he tried to calm it. No fair luck, though, it continued up and up and up, anything to escape the scaled beast that the professor had turned into. 

He'd had a moment to adjust in the saddle, though, so to speak, and kept his seat easily enough, the grip of his hands tight in the bird's neck feathers, and his legs locked along the bird's back. Raven knew it was too much to ask that the bird would simply keep course, and inevitably, it began to veer away from the Archbishop's tower, leading him farther away and into open sky. 

"The Archbishop's hall... I see..." There was always the chance that she wouldn't even be up there, but he wouldn't trouble his companion with that thought when they had already made it this far. He sighs, gently tapping the sides of the bird to spur it into action once again.

He doesn't make it too far though, trying to flutter after Raymond, before he can feel himself beginning to slip. He knows that even if he tried to scramble to hold onto the bird, his fall would be inevitable, and he has a much more reliable way to catch himself anyways.

So he lets himself fall, plummeting towards the ground.

It's easy to slip into his other form, even though he does not often at the academy. (Mostly out of fear of breaking a building or something, should he be in too enclosed of an area.) But it is necessary this time, for his own survival.

Without having to direct a wayward bird, he easily catches up to Raymond, large wings easily cutting through the air. He would not normally be so inclined to reveal his heritage, but it seemed there was times that he could avoid it.

"Mmmrgh."

[tacticalmove]

"Well..."

Robin gives a nervous little laugh. Perhaps he had been jumping to conclusions a bit too quickly, but it was at least somewhat obvious. At least to another dragon.

"...you are hiding it well," he says, "but I think I probably sensed something about you that I wasn't quite fully noticing. I'm admittedly often better at picking up on these things, but maybe it's the snow keeping me from focusing..."

He drifts off for a moment, lost in thought as he tries to figure out why he isn't quite at the top of his game today. But then he shakes his head with a smile and adds, "Anyhow, your age comment was part of it, but I think there's more, too."

He might prefer to leave it there, but if he does, it's going to seem a lot weirder than it has to. With a shift of his weight and an attempt to get more comfortable under the blanket and cloak, he clears his throat. "Er... I am too. A dragon, I mean. Or at least, sort of. ...mostly."

snow covered dragons

[tacticalmove]

It's not hard to see that something terribly difficult must have happened in Kurthnaga's past. The sense of melancholy he adopts when talking about these things, the parts of the story he isn't telling... Robin can more or less understand, even if he doesn't know the whole thing. He nods solemnly as he listens to Kurthnaga speak of the past and of his family.

"You definitely don't have to tell me what happened," he says, "but you're welcome to do so, if you want." Then, in an attempt to lighten things just a bit, he adds, "I'm also not as young as I look, for what it's worth."

It is only after he says it it that he realizes the two of them might have something more in common than he initially realized. Robin is well aware that the reason he looks younger than he is stems from his dragon heritage--and now he can't help but wonder if the same is true of Kurthnaga.

(After all, his name even suggests--)

"...are you a dragon?" he blurts, because they're stuck here together either way, and he might as well just find out now.

snow covered dragons

[tacticalmove]

Robin casts a sidelong glance at Kurthnaga, watching his expression for an indication of how he's feeling. Talking about the people they missed might be more challenging than beneficial, and he doesn't want to push too much. Still, Kurthnaga seems to be providing the information relatively freely, for now anyhow... and it's still a useful distraction from the cold.

"Oh, so you take care of your sister?" he asks, trying to leave the question open-ended enough that Kurthnaga can reply as much or as little as he wants to. "You seem a little bit young to be in charge of caring for someone else, but... well, I also know it's never a good idea to make assumptions about someone based on appearances."

He would like to learn as much as he can about his current companion, but he does his best to keep the conversation as casual as possible anyhow. He has no way of knowing how difficult the topic might become.

snow covered dragons

[tacticalmove]

{mission task board 9/24, heavy armor +1}

How exactly had Robin gotten into this mess? It wasn't as if he made a habit out of going out in the snow, and especially not straying far from home or base camp when he had to do so. And yet here he was, stuck in the middle of a veritable blizzard, with no one nearby except... well, a complete stranger.

Yes, they had been sent out on a minor mission to collect some supplies. Yes, he had signed up for said mission even though the weather was growing cold. And yes, he had told himself he was prepared to tackle spending the day with someone he'd never met before. But he couldn't have possibly predicted a snowstorm like this one, and he felt fairly sure Kurthnaga couldn't have, either.

But here they were anyway. With the cold wind biting his face and the snow soaking through his clothing, he turned to Kurthnaga with a frown. "What do you think?" he said, speaking loudly to be heard over the storm. "Set up camp?"

As this was supposed to be a short task, neither of them had brought much with them. But they had a tent... and not much else. Still, better than standing in a snowstorm indefinitely.

{ @goldoanheart }

snow covered dragons

[tacticalmove]

Robin listens to him intently, trying to focus more on what Kurthnaga is saying and less on the cold. He can feel his companion shivering beside him, and he tries to scoot a bit closer to help keep him warm, although to little effect. The cold air is still biting, even though the tent provides some relief from the high winds outside, and Robin can't help but wonder just how long they'll have to stay here like this.

At Kurthnaga's suggestion, he perks up a bit. "Yes, that's a great idea," he says. "I'm happy to get to know you, and share a little about myself too."

Maybe he won't share all the details, but... anyhow, he's sure he has a few things he can say. Shifting a little under the blanket and cloak, he says, "I don't remember much about my life before I was in Ylisse, but once I got there, I became a military tactician almost immediately. And I met many people who became like my extended family... even if not by blood, I felt like I was tied to them all very closely." A pause. "I miss them a lot, now."

snow covered dragons

[tacticalmove]

"I don't much like the cold either," he says, climbing into the tent behind Kurthnaga and closing it tightly against the wind. "I prefer to be somewhere much, much warmer than this." Never mind the reason for that; whether because he's got too much dragon blood or because he's Plegian, he'd prefer not to think about it.

Instead, he digs through his supplies and produces a small, thin blanket. It isn't much, especially against this kind of weather, but he hands it over to Kurthnaga anyway. "Here, wrap up in this," he says, "and then I'll throw my cloak over both of us. I'm afraid we'll have to get close to each other to share, but maybe that's okay?"

He doesn't love the idea of sharing body heat with a stranger, but it's better than either one of them getting sick or freezing to death or something. Robin is nothing if not practical at his core.

snow covered dragons

[tacticalmove]

He nods at Kurthnaga’s agreement and scoots in close to him, throwing his cloak over them both and taking care to give Kurthnaga a little extra. He can’t exactly pinpoint how old his companion is, but he certainly comes across as young to Robin anyhow, and something within him very much wants to protect Kurthnaga in this situation.

(And Robin knows he shouldn't be surprised by that. He's always been protective by nature, but especially when it comes to taking care of those younger than himself, and even more so now that he knows what it's like to be a father--)

(And he misses his kids--)

He also wants to make sure neither of them falls asleep, just in case the cold gets to them a little too much. So, once they're settled under the cloak, he nudges Kurthnaga and says, "So tell me more about where you're from? Your siblings, or anything? I don't know much about you at all."

snow covered dragons

[tacticalmove]

"Yeah, definitely. At least we can wait out the storm."

Gesturing to a nearby half-crumbled rock wall--one of the many very ancient ruins that dotted the landscape in this area--he adds, "If we set up the tent behind that, we'll at least get out of the wind a little more."

He does not wait for Kurthnaga to agree or disagree, but he does notice just how cold his current companion seems to be. Robin works as fast as he can to unpack the tent and set it up with Kurthnaga's assistance. He himself is getting colder every moment, too, but at least he has on a thick cloak to help with a little bit of the chill.

When the tent is finally ready, he gestures to it and says, "Please, get inside, you look like you're freezing out here."

snow covered dragons

[desertslegacy]

Igrene canted her head at his protestation – it made sense that he wouldn't want to move to an area with higher visibility, but to move further into the venue seemed equally dangerous, especially since they'd no idea where the elementals had gone. They might have left, it was true, but if they had not... 

She hesitated. It was not the time necessarily to be bold or make rash decisions, but to be frozen with indecision was just as foolish. 

"Very well." If it came to it, she would do what she must to ensure the boy's escape – she might not be much of a threat in her current state, but there was more to the Guardian than just combat prowess. "We will seek out something in the back rooms. Perhaps a window, or some sort of ventilation? We must keep vigilant – for our captors, or anything else which may lie in wait for us." 

They changed direction and retraced their steps, back along the long rows of tall shelves, the pencil growing heavier and more cumbersome in Igrene's grip. She frowned a bit as they came to the end of one row, and she poked her head out, scouting the aisle ahead for sound or movement, and from the corner of her eye she saw another glass case, tucked away on a bottom shelf. 

"Wait here a moment," she said to the young man, skirting the edge of the shelf to inspect. 

The case was glass, as many others in the area were, but had no spotlights to shine upon it, and a thick film of dust along its panes. Igrene wiped a hand along the façade of the case and peered in, gasping lightly as she took in the scene that lay before her. 

Propped up on a stand – just as she had been less than an hour beforehand - in a neat and vibrant costume threaded with gossamer cobwebs and thick streaks of dust, hung a body, stiff and desiccated and weighed down by thick adhesive to hold it in place. She could not make out a face, or whatever remained of it, but she could see from the odd contortions of the limbs that whoever it had once been, they had fought until their last breath. 

Near the corner of the case, banged against the wall of the shelf where it must have been hurriedly pushed back – whether to hide or discard, she could not begin to guess – Igrene spotted an area where the glass had cracked, had smashed in, and out of it poked what seemed to be a slim handle. She crouched to inspect, brushing aside shards of plexiglass, and tugged on the handle, finding it to be the beautifully varnished haft of a lance. 

Testing its weight in her hands, Igrene rested her gaze back on the corpse for a moment, closing her eyes for a swift, silent prayer, begging her thanks to the sacrifice that allowed her this weapon, before she made her way back to Kurthnaga. 

She would not waste it. 

"Come," she said, with more firm determination than before. "We will see our way out of this place." 

Toy Story 25