Halloween Dragon + Intro!

[silvermists]

How strange it is, to see the world fade to black as the living writhing roots of a tree the size of a city are about to smash down on his head and the head of his companion--the last thing he remembers is using his tiny remaining scraps of magic to try and shield both of them, and then...

Coming back into awareness on a floating island in the sky, in a very different form indeed. A feathery, somewhat bipedal dragon, all gleaming silver with reddish highlights, around twelve feet tall at the shoulder... smaller than a true silver dragon, taller than any man he knows of.

The first thing he does, having popped back into existence on the edge of the castle's little chunk of land, is spread his wings and fly. It just comes instinctively, and he wants to know where he is... down he goes, quite a ways, gliding on and on, knowing he's bound to reach the ground eventually... it seems like the thing to do, rather than hang around a strange floating lump of rock.

Which he does not. He simply loops right back around, seeing the same damn castle beneath him after some time flying. So, then. Trapped. Imprisoned and so far he hasn't seen a single soul, and he isn't sure he can squeeze in through the doors. He lands in the courtyard near the great glass hill, thoughts racing, fresh out of schemes. Heaven knows he deserves to be trapped somewhere he can't harm anyone, though becoming dragonlike doesn't make any sense. And neither does being alive at all.

In the courtyard he stays all afternoon, sunning himself, thinking, and preening those lovely feathers with his teeth, while he tries to think of something.

Comments

[dustless]

Their head twitches. Well. That...is one way for a monster-dragon to speak, if not what they were expecting.

They drop to a slightly lower branch, peering out with yellow cat's eyes. They wave a hand to catch attention without having to glide all the way to the grass. "I'm Frisk! You're new?" An important question with how changing everyone's been lately.

[silvermists]

New to this... prison, is it? it (he? it sounds male) thinks, twisting the long next around to peer at the little demon. Call me Kuja.

So much for the one behind this putting him somewhere he can't kill anyone ever again--not that he feels the need to.

[dustless]

"Hi, Kuja. This...sort of. I mean, it's sort of a prison. I guess..."

They settle into a more comfortable seat on the branch. It's obvious from their voice that they've said this many times before: "It's a castle in the sky. People from lots of different times and timelines and worlds got pulled here, and nobody knows why." They pause, pulling a face and twitching their wings up in an exaggerated sort of shrug. "...and everybody's changing into different things lately. I'm usually a lot more human-looking."

[silvermists]

So am I. Human, that is. I have a dragon, I wasn't one myself.

The dragon-man stretches, standing slowly purely on his hind legs. Prison it may be... but what did the little demon do to deserve it?

You sound rather young for someone who needs to be imprisoned here.

[dustless]

Huh. So Kuja's from somewhere with magic, probably. Good to know.

"Well--it's...not like a jail- prison, just a we're-stuck-here prison. Most people here are really nice and stuff."

[silvermists]

Whatever. He waves a hand-paw, brushing that thought away. It's a very human gesture, would a dragon do that?

Who's behind putting us here? And why, if not punishment?

[dustless]

Heh. Looks weirdly cute.

"We dunno. Anything. People just show up here from different worlds and times and timelines, and we live here. This...change stuff is super new, though. Extra weird even for the castle."

[silvermists]

Just... live here? On this little scrap of land? I've already tried to fly off and ended back right where I began despite flying down... so how is it you feed yourselves? And how many are here?

[dustless]

"Yeah, that happens. 'Nother guy tried that." They shift until they're lying across a few branches, staring at him upside-down. "Dunno how many people're here, exactly. Couple dozen? And there's food that grows in the gardens, and there's cakes in the ballroom, and there's kitchens in some places, but they move. Everything comes back later. I've been here for months and months and nothing ran out."

[silvermists]

Months. Months is most likely the rest of his pitiful life. And it's going to be spent imprisoned, dragon or not.

Still, as he'd told himself earlier, it's no less than what he deserves. There's not a single soul who'd disagree. Three seconds of thought and he's already resigned to it.

I... don't think I can fit through the doors that I've seen. What's inside the castle?

[dustless]

"...Think there's some. Mostly out near the Edge, though. It's just...rooms. All kinds of rooms. Bedrooms, study rooms, kitchens, rooms full of weird stuff like mirrors or horseshoes. Most of them move around, 'cept for the ballroom and the music room and things like that."

[silvermists]

Of course they do. This place reeks of loose magic, more than anywhere else I've been.

More questions, as his mind races on like a runaway train. Has anyone claimed to be from Gaia or Terra? Perhaps someone blonde with a monkey's tail?

[dustless]

"...Don't think so. But somebody from there might show up later. Though they might not be the same as you remember, 'pending on the when they're from. Or," they huff, blowing a ring of smoke, "if the castle messed with 'em."

[silvermists]

The dragonman settles down, lying on his belly and watching Frisk. Strange that whatever plucked me up would leave him, we were both in danger and right next to each other. And if there's no way for me to go back, I suppose he's still there...

Musing out loud for the sake of 'hearing' his own voice and getting his thoughts together. He does that a lot.

[dustless]

Frisk...suspects as much, but they decide to answer anyway. "Dunno. The castle's weird. 'He' might show up anyway, just...later. But from the same time as you. Or even before or after."

[silvermists]

The dragon drums his claws on the ground, scary reddish things almost half a foot long, totally disproportionate to the rest of him. He could slice the kid in half.

That won't do him much good right now. He's probably dying back there.

[dustless]

If he's trying to be subtly threatening, they really don't even notice.

"...Hope he's not. But dying--already-dead people showed up here too, before."

[silvermists]

Scratch, scratch. It's someone still making human gestures with dragon claws, not a threat. He's surprising himself with how concerned he is--it's not as if he and Zidane spent much time together being friendly.

I do wish he was safe. He deserves to be--but I wouldn't wish imprisonment here on him.

[dustless]

There's not much they can say to that, and so for a while, they don't say anything at all. They just watch his claws move, considering they might toss some flower seeds in the furrows later.

"...it's not that bad here," they say finally. "Least, not usually. Nowhere's perfect, I guess."

[silvermists]

No. Perfection doesn't exist and I've certainly stayed in much worse places.

Born into a world where the people aren't real and even the water doesn't ripple? No wind, no weather, no sunshine or stars at night? At least the castle is part of a real world. He digs at the ground one last time and stops.

I'll find a way out if it's at all possible. I don't see any better way to spend my time.

[dustless]

...They want to prod. And normally, they wouldn't act on that. Normally, they're not a half-demon with impulse control that can't stay steady.

"Worse? Like what? An' if there is, other people're gonna want to know about it too."

[silvermists]

A place where time stopped and the people didn't. If you could call them people, most had no souls. he 'says', flatly--it does sound like he's speaking out loud, he can still have a cool tone. Hopefully it'll shut the kid up. It is a bit creepy.

Don't worry. I see no reason to leave everyone else behind.

[dustless]

The nosy little snot just blinks at him. "...sounds weird. Time might've stopped here, or something like that, the way stuff resets. But almost everybody has a SOUL. So it is better."

He sounds sincere enough. Not that it matters, he probably won't find a way out either.

[silvermists]

Time hasn't stopped here, believe me. It was a land of no weather, no wind. No sun or rain. Even the water was as still as ice.

And he loathes it. There's dangerous hatred in his mental voice... bad topic, back off, Frisk.

[dustless]

No sun or rain. A whole...world, they guess, sort of like being trapped underground, but even more horrible.

"...A different kind of time weird, then," Frisk concedes.