2022.02.11:Do Wake The Dragon
| Do Wake The Dragon | |
|---|---|
| Sark awakens after an extra-long nap and is found by the new owner of the island he was hibernating on. | |
| IC Date | 2022.02.11 |
| Players | Sark and Laoise |
| Location | Windstorm Isle |
| Spheres | Bygone, Changeling |
| Theme Song | Puff The Magic Dragon - Peter Paul and Mary |
There was indeed a rather good earthquake last night - the news said it was a full 6.1, just a little off the coast. Heavy enough Laoise even felt the shaking a little at home, and it distubed the horses a little at the time. So that might have inspired her to take a quick check around the island to make sure there wasnt any serious damage anywhere else. And for the most part, things look unphazed, at least until she gets to the ocean-facing side, where it would appear some rock has finally given away on a rocky cliff, exposing a gaping hole that appears to travel down into the island itself just a little bit. It doesn't look that deep, but the dim is full of light shimmering, like there might be some gold or silver embedded in the rock.
Well. That sort of thing didn't happen back in Ireland. Really, she should have expected some earthquakes upon moving to California, but it was still an experience. The horses were checked on immediately, and then she had Angus do a quick flyover of the island while it was still dark, and he reported on the collapse. Even so, the troll has waited until the morning to actually try it. Now, though, she's arriving, clad in what she uses as armor, her axe at her hip, to peer down into the hole. At her side is the ginormous winged black horse. The hole is not big enough for him, so she's going to have to climb down there.5r "Keep an eye out, would you?" she asks, before she starts to slowly clamber down. At least supporting her own weight isn't challenging.
The cave is certainly not enough for her to stand up straight in, but on the other hand, even in the dim light she can see the bottom of it, so no chance of big troll getting caught hundreds of feet underground. As she ducks her head and steps in, it becomes more apparent there are indeed, shiny bits of value scattered across the cave floor. Oddly enough, they aren't raw chunks of gold like one might expect underground, but...there's a spanish dubloon here. A small gold chain bracelet there, a larger silver medallion there. Did someone bury treasure out on the island? She might have enough time to pick a couple of them up and wonder just what the hell the earthquake uncovered, when a dusting of dirt cascades across her shoulders, and a limp, leathery, gold wing drapes down from the cieling to smack her in the shoulder, revealing its attached to more gold still partially embedded in the roof.
Laoise does, indeed, crouch down and pick up one of the coins, more out of curiosity than greed. A greedy troll would have snatched it up eagerly, her motions were slower than that. And then a wing falls down and smacks her, and maybe it's good that there's no one awake to see her. Except for Angus, who is watching from the entrance, for she makes an undignified yelp and leaps bac, hand dropping to her axe handle. Angus snickers, but Laoise is already looking... up. "What the..."" She reaches out to touch at the draconic wing, carefully. "Are you okay?" she asks, not quite realizing she's got a hibernating beastie on her hands.
The ducking out of the way was PROBABLY a good plan, as the falling dirt was a herald to the rest of it around him giving way, and the attached body falling to the ground with a good, sold 'fwump', revealing the rest of the beastie. The impact seems to be enough to actually slap some consciousness into him, as the fall is immediately followed by a low, pained groan and a hissed, slurred word in something that is decidedly not English. He seems blissfully unaware he has company at first, the (compared to her) relatively small body heaving a little as he tries to get those feet under him.
Laoise swears. In Irish, in point of fact, which is actually the language she grew up speaking. But she recovers quickly. Creatures in distress are a common enough thing for her, and she's used to dealing with occasionally fractious horses. So, while she does stare, she also approaches after a moment. "Whoa, there," she says, returning to English. "Easy there. You're okay. Hush, now." The thing is, she doesn't expect him to understand. She's just trying to soothe as she steps forward. True, her eyes are rather... wide. Because one doesn't expect a dragon before breakfast. She crouches down, reaching out to lay a hand on his back, the other starting to swipe dirt away, should anything be fouling his wings or seem to be in his eyes or nose. "It's okay, now. Easy, easy."
It takes a little more for words to cut through the fog. You know how, after a really good nap, you're a little stupid for a few minutes? Multiply that by about 300 years and it makes more sense why the gold creature is a little groggy. But finally, green eyes blink and that serpentine head shifts to look at the big example of strong, young troll and the very large axe she has strapped across her back, and a VERY human English word escapes him, "Oh shit."
Laoise yelps again, wavering in her crouch. Her own green eyes go very, very wide as the creature speaks, and then they narrow again. She leans in, examining him, with more than just her eyes, even sniffing a bit. Not a chimera, then. "What in Danu's name...." But, she's stepping forward and attempting to wrap her arms around him and scoop him up. Something no normal woman could do, though despite her strength she's being gentle. "Let's get you out into the light. I'm not going to hurt you. I can tell there's nothing wrong in your back, but there's not enough light in here for me to see if you're really hurt."
Despite the assurance, when she steps forward and reaches to try and help him up, the creature gives a strangled little squeak and shifts his weight. There's a sudden whoosh of wings finding their footing, claws scrambling on loose dirt as he tries to push himself back against the cave wall. But at the same time, the gold scales erupt, their brightness increasing and blurring for a moment before fading away like someone set off a glitter bomb. What gets left behind is a tall, blond, male looking human still wearing the remains of a tattered and bloody looking tunic. Sitting on his butt, back pressed against the wall, those still green eyes look up at her and blink for a moment, before he finds his voice, "Whoareyouwho...", then pauses to clear his throat loudly and tries again, this time softer, "Who...are you?"
Laoise, too, winds up on her butt on the cave floor, because that's enough of a surprise to let her finally lose her balance, landing with a loud thump. She is rather a lot of troll, after all. She then proceeds to stare at him in shock for several long moments. "Holy shit," she declares. There's a blink, then another one. Then, "I'm Laoise." It's pronounced 'Lee-sha'. Irish and their names, man. "...you were a dragon," she accuses. Then, she notices the blood, and sits up straighter. "You're hurt. I'm a healer," she murmurs. Despite looking every inch the warrior.
Sark almost immediately comes back with a soft, "I didn't see a dragon," in probably one of the most comical 'you didnt see nuthin' comments this year. However, she mentions he's hurt, and that's enough for him to look down at his tunic and pick at the fabric, which is practically disintegrating on him as he looks. Pulling some of it off, the bronzed skin underneath appears rather undamaged, though bearing a few scars that don't look that old. He wavers a bit and slowly gets to his feet then just pulls the tunic off and lets it drop to the ground so he can look himself over. A few more scars, but he doesn't actually seem to be bleeding anymore. Naked, but unharmed now, "I was...there was a fight. I fled," then again looks back over to her with narrowed eyes, "You speak English. Not Spanish. Gold hats not live here?"
Laoise stays on her butt as he gets to his feet and, well, strips. There /might/ have been blushing, but this circumstance is just too strange. It's hard to get embarrased when you're too busy trying to come to grips with a dragon buried on your island. "Gold hats?" she asks. American history just isn't taught to the same degree in Irish schools. Sure, she knows that the Spanish used to have California, but it's a vague sort of knowledge. "Of course I speak English. Most people do." Her accent isn't American, but it's not like Sark would know what that sounds like. "What fight? I've been here for weeks, there's been no fights on the island."
Sark blinks a few times, the brain slowly shaking the dust off and processing everything she just said. He stands there, apparently no shame at all in the fact that he has not a damned thing on, while murmuring, "No gold hats. Everyone speaks English? Are you from the East?" But its the very last comment of hers that he latches onto, "Weeks. What is today? What date is it?" He looks up at the convenient hole he basically just left in the cieling, a furrow creasing his brow as he then looks over at the cave entrance and sees Angus, which appears to be enough to brighten his mood a little, "Hello!"
"February 11," Laoise promptly answers. Not the year, though, one doesn't generally feel the need to convey that. Angus peers in, and stamps one hoof. "He's naked," the pegasus complains, huffily. Why that bothers him? Who knows. The troll finally gets back to her feet and steps forward, offering out a muscled arm. "Look. Let's get you out of this cave first. I've got some clothes up at the house I can lend you. Not sure the pants will fit, but we can try." She's rather hippy, after all. "I swear on my honour that I mean you no ill. So long as you don't attack me or my horses, I won't attack you." She's a troll. If he knows about them, that should be assuring.
Sark looks back at the troll and starts in a softer voice, "No, I..." and then interrupts his own thought, and looks down at himself when Angus complains about him being naked. He reaches over to rub one hand along the opposite arm, then looks back at Laoise when she promises she means no harm. This seems to get debated in his head for a few moments before he slowly nods in the affirmative, hesitating to ask, "Are there more people close by? I promise no attack." There's a glance back at Angus for a moment, then back to her, and this time, he even offers the faintest of smiles.
Laoise shakes her head. "Not right now, no. I'm the only one who lives on the island. Well. Me and Angus, tere." She nods to the pegasus. "I've got some staff that come and help with the horses, but not every day. And there's no one lined up for lessons, yet, so it's just us and a bunch of horses." She steps forward, but doesn't try to pick him up again. Instead, she offers her arm to lean on. "If you're feeling unsteady, I can put you on Angus." "I didn't agree to that," the companion mutters, peevishly. Also, hey, look. Shinies. There's gold rings around her horns.
Sark glances back and forth between the pegasus and the troll as he processes their conversation and Angus' complaining. He does, however, reach out to put a hand on Laoise's shoulder, feling rather warm for someone that thin. He starts, "I am...if noone else can see, I can be okay. Just think I was asleep for a long time." With that said, he does seem to be content with following her lead out of the cave, though he pauses for a moment to pick up a couple of the gold and silver coins and medallions that are lightly littered across the floor, rubbing his fingers against them while his feet find their footing on the rubble.
The scattered shinies do make more sense, now. "Are those yours?" she asks. "I mean, is that... a thing? The whole hoard thing?" He'll have to reach up for her shoulder, the troll is half a foot taller than him, but she certainly looks capable of easily supporting him. She moves slowly, walking him back towards the light, while Angus backs away from the entrance with a snorting sound. That's a normal equine sound, but he makes it sound derisive, somehow. Cranky beastie, that one. "We can figure that out," she murmurs. "Just make sure there's no planes in the sky if you plan to fly." Ahh, that's going to be a shock for him. Humans flying.
Sark furrows his brow a little again as he follows the troll out, squinting a little at the light when they step out into the open air, "Planes? I dont understand. Did the Spanish wake up some creature I have not seen before?" What the hell is he talking about? Angus' reaction draws his attention, and then a bit of a snort of his own, erupting into something lisping and hissing that PROBABLY is some form of communication, done badly with the lack of a forked tongue and the hollowed snout to use for reverberation, (in Reptilian) <<Bet you not look so good when you wake up>>
Angus, it seems, doesn't speak Draconic. Or Reptilian. His tail flicks, though. Laoise pauses, though, and gives Sark a long look. "Oh. Well. God damn it." It may have just dawned on her that the fellow's been asleep for longer than a few weeks. She looks up at the sky, but it seems clear, so she moves to Angus' side. "Come on, up you get. Angus, I swear if you make a fuss I'm not letting you have apples for a week." This threat... works. Though he grumbles, he doesn't try to sidestep.
Sark glances up at the sky with her, as if expecting to see something as well, but when she tells him to climb up on Angus, he lightly shakes his head, "I can walk. If no one else here, I can..." He finally takes his hand off of her shoulder and eyes Angus, before shaking himself out rather violently, allowing his form to take back that gold scaled creature that fell out of the cieling a few minutes ago, dropping to all fours with a soft thud. Wings shake themselves out lightly before getting tucked into his sides. In a small act of immaturity, the dragon sticks his tongue out at Angus, letting the forked tongue flicker for a moment, lisping softly, though it IS understandable English, "Dont worry. I not put my fat butt on you." Then with a softer grunt towards the troll, he adds, "Can go now. Isss okay."
Maturity reigns... or not. Angus snorts in response, and snaps his wings open so that the feathers slap at poor Sark, then takes off with a huff. Looks like Laoise is walking, too. "Pay him no mind. He's not half as mean as he likes to pretend." She does stare, though. Shetland-sized dragon. It's more impressive out in the sunlight. "Okay. If you insist, I want you to go first, I'll be behind you in case you slip." And she points at the steep, treacherous path that leads up the cliff face. She's not tellinghm the year, though. Not yet. Get him up first, then shock him.
Out in the sun, the gold of the dragon's hide DOES tend to catch the light, which might be one reason why he was concerned about others being around. Of course, walking ahead of her up the path gives her plenty of time to study his form and the way claws grip and hold at the ground, how that tail sways around to maintain balance when a rock shifts suddenly under his footing. Its not until they have made there way up to the top of the cliff before he pauses for a moment to stretch those wings out wide and let them beat the ground a few times, a big, deep yaaaaaaaawn cracking his snout open for a moment. Smacking a couple of times, the wings are tucked back in against his sides, a deep breath drawn in as he looks around, then back at her, "Island is yours now? Your turf?"
Laoise follows him carefully, often keeping a hand on the rock face, in case she's the one to lose her balance. And, in fact, Angus is up near the top, pretending to be huffy while also actually keeping an eye on his hooman. Though once she is safely up on flat ground he turns tail and trots off through the trees. "It is mine now, yes," Laoise assures. "I bought it when I arrived a few weeks ago. The horses finally arrived last week. I raise and train them." She reaches out and rests a hand on his back... she can't seem to help it. "Come on, now," she murmurs, starting to walk along a path. "I'll find you something to eat and we can talk. You've been asleep for awhile, I think. But that can wait until you're feeling alert. And not hungry."
