This story's just for you Gurochan. I have some time at nights now to write. I hope you enjoy.
While you have the right and freedom to read this regardless of who you are:
This story isn't meant for anyone who can't separate fantasy from reality.
You should not use lust, rank, power, or order as an excuse to hurt others,
you also should not see malice directed at you or anyone you know, or any
hypothetical persons. This work of fiction is not intended to cause harm.
This is especially not meant for those who do not want to see it. These first chapters are fairly tame,
but there is still violence against young girls ahead. Horrors may happen as the story continues.
In any case: You're welcome to comment here or email in with compliments, critiques or complaints. email@example.com
Laid deep into ancient stones,
The dragon king made home of homes
For scaled and clawed collecting kinds.
The humans saw there, simple mines.
CH 1: The plan
Nickelflight's people make their homes aside the cave mouth, their little wooden hive of treacherous plank bridges and shivering wood cabins shakes in wind gusts. In the sun it looks like a blueprint of itself, scrawled out along the mountain side, flat as a scroll lifted to candle light. King-less soldiers rattle back and forth in rust bucket armor. Store clerks sell rations at the cost of 5 star meals. A rape on Drake lane can be looked down on from Main Street above it. All this in the name of the one god here. She glimmers in the sunlight and jingles in a pocket, she makes a woman do wonders out of sight, or a man for enough. She feeds, clothes, and bathes, and she never enters a beggars can. She's collected, traded, and honored, all by one profession. Her alter is a hole digging into the cliff face, a mossy abyss of unknown depth. It might be entered to find that bright goddess, riches, or else be swallowed.
Waterfalls pour from many craggy holes in the cave ceiling from which also light pours through. Grass pokes up through a clear pool of water and moss grows spongey and moist in chilly, damp air. Rubber sneaker soles splash into the inch deep flood and echo out along the ceiling, many stories above. A youthful trio walks in line, each clad in leather bracers and greaves. The front most sports caramel skin and plush pinkish lips that match short, fiery hair. Her shapely body is clothed in a wool T with nylon laces that make "Z" shapes to tighten it at two slits over her bare waist. Below that, short jeans, tight to her body. Her being a couple sizes above the girls could be attributed to age, she was about 3 years older than the tweens following her.
"C'mon! I got places to be after this! I can't wait for y'all." Commanded Daylah to her rank of two. Her attitude could be attributed not to age but squarely to personality.
Following close behind was a Chocolate girl with the circles of her glasses taking up most of her face. Her hair bursts from a tie into fireball like curly black ponytail that brushes against her neck. Her eyes contrast with her dark body and shine a bright blue. Her warm pilots jacket better handles the chills of the cave, but her jet black fire caster gloves help with that just as well. She does little magic tricks with them as she walks, smiling brightly and trying to entertain the girl behind her. She snaps her fingers, and a black flame erupts from the gloves leathery pointers finger, making a diamond shaped insignia glow gold on the backhand of the glove. She drags the finger through the air and writes out her name in floating black fire: Charise. Backwards, as to be read by the girl she's turned around to face.
"Yeah, that's my name. I know, I'm the coolest. I can definitely pick up girls with this." She says, talking more to her self and showing off to no one as the girl behind her is more interested in a book.
Shaun takes slow steps, clearly making the party lag to Daylah's dismay. Her blonde hair is light enough to quite nearly be called white, and her clothing is traditional and by far the most out of place in the cave: She wears a light sundress which bounces under the weight of the air with each step that she takes. She carries a backpack, the over-sized tattered leather thing is empty and flaccid against her back. She wore glasses as well, but unlike Charise her skin was pale enough that faint scratch marks could be seen at the bridge of her nose where she broke her glasses against her face in a fall last year.
Shaun finds use for the show off in front of her, grabbing her flame spouting pointer finger and using it like a pen. She writes as she reads.
Height: 4-7m, Unverified
The chocolate girl being used in her grip looks more than annoyed, wrestling back her hand and offering a spirited glare, which ofcourse goes ignored.
"It says here that Tiamel can be heard by the clanging of his armor. I was thinking that if an escape route becomes necessary--"
"Tiamel will be sleeping. I swear on all my silver if you revise the plan one more time I'll shove my sneakers super far down your throat." Daylah slices in.
"It's not a revision, it's an addition, I don't, uh, know if that counts as a revision. Regardless--"
"Ugh, do you believe in this plan or not? Because we can turn around. I'll do it!"
"I don't believe in the plan succeeding as you've set it so much as--"
"What?!" Daylah, outraged, turns about to face Shaun with a glare that's both burning hot and statue still.
"Wait, wait, before you go on your, you know, rant. I don't believe in the plan succeeding since you set the bar for success at 'all of us being filthy rich off one good haul forever.' I believe there's a greater chance that we'll retreat alive then that we'll die, and that the potential makes it worth attempting... Ofcourse, coming up with back ups is--"
"Clarise, does the plan need more revisions? Yes or no."
"I like you both enough not to have an opinion." Clarise replies, still rubbing her hurting pointer finger.
"Whatever. Characters. Sticking together with your turned up noses and covered eyes, you'll see." Grumbles Daylah as she storms on ahead.
Clarise and Shaun are reminded they wear glasses and both push them up on the bridge of their noses. Looking at each other just after, they smile and snort out ugly, honking, wheezing, friend-only little laughs. They look back to Daylah wishing she could laugh with them, but she's still splashing forward in inch deep water and grumbling something about how she could do this alone. Clarise rolls her eyes, but Shaun just sighs and lightly smiles.
"I still put her plan way above anything I could've thought of. I'm sure it will go well for us, I should tell her."
"She'll just rant more, she's in a mood or whatever. Well, do what you want, she's your friend." Clarise replies. But before Shaun can approach, Daylah stops suddenly, holding her fist up.
"Halt." The fiery young girl commands with a whisper.
Chilled breaths roll out into damp air. The trio crouches and grows close together. Standing before them, cut into the cave is a large hall of dark stone tiles set into the rocky walls. The hallway was as tall as the caves high ceiling. Ornate golden mounts hold candles along the wall that light the way down the slowly descending path. They enter cautiously, Shaun constantly looking behind, the trio moving down as one. As they walk the path they pass stripped skeletons, laying naked on the flame warmed stone ground. Necrofying bodies are strewn about and tossed into random poses like dolls. But none of the young girls makes even a moments eye contact with a skull, they traipse slowly into the depths, closing in on the opening at the opposite end of the hall.
The room they enter into is wide, tall, and round. It's made cozy, somewhat, by the brown stone and warm fires. Much of the little burrow is covered in scratches as if it was dug out by giant claws, and the whole of it is covered in dust. But most important to the trio of spelunkers is the haul: All over the ground, ornate armors of so many creeds, countries, and builds. They cover completely the corners of the room, and lie about in piles that stand taller than the girls themselves. Little holes like massive rabbit burrows travel around the circular wall. Another massive entrance to the room, this one a claw dug cave, rather than an architectured hall, stands two storeys high etched into the wall.
Shaun speaks with hushed, reverent breath. A glove is thrust suddenly into her chest, pushing some of the air from her lungs.
"Let's do this" Charise whispers, and settles down next to a tumbled gallery of breast plates that would take a millennia to try on one by one. She's looking for, precious stones, magic artifacts, tools like her gloves, anything of value. She finds a sapphire adorning the clavicle of a knight's Cuirass. She takes her gloved hand to it, and black flame encircles it with her concentration. In a moment, the bright blue stone sinks out of the molten silver and clinks on the floor. Daylah kneels and picks it up, the stone still cold, untouched by the flames. She commands Shaun to the floor with a whisper-shout "Hurry up!" and she places the sapphire in the bag Shaun wears on her back.
The three of them go on like this, Shaun finds Emerald lodged into a Brigandine, and takes the left handed glove to it to burn away the worthless armor and fill their bag with the pricey gems. Charise finds a Plackart with an Opal in it's center, the black and rainbow stone is surrounded by flames from her right hand and they are rewarded with it. They hustle and move til their bag grows weighted with gems and they continue to hustle after that.
Shaun grabs with two hands for a culet sticking only partly outside of the pile of silvery armors. In it, she can see a generous assortment of rubies decorating the breast. She lifts and starts to bring it close to her, but the weight is wrong, and it's sticking to the armors it's covered with. Somewhere in the back of her head she has an understanding of whats to come, but her brain is too slow to speak to her body and from the pile of armors she ejects not only the culet, but also the torso it holds. The body is pale, it's arms shredded at the elbow into meaty, necrofied stumps. The head ripped away at the jaw, the tongue bright blue, gooey, the moisture trapped into it by the surrounding sets of armor, beetles scurry into homes they've bored into the body. The girl drops the well defended corpse immediately, and the body crashes into the hollow armors below, making them sing out and dance, rolling slowly along the ground.
"Shit!" Daylah growls under barely quieted breath.
"The corpse, I--"
"I don't fucking care if your dead mother was in it, do you know how bad you just fucked us?"
"We're not f-fucked... I didn't fuck us!"
"You kinda fucked us." Clarise affirmed.
"Okay, I fucked up. I'm sorry. But we're not fucked, we can still do this if we... Wait... Shh."
"Oh don't tell me to shush now, you wanna--" Daylah's coming rant was quickly cut by a palm to her mouth tied there by fingers gripping her cheeks. Shaun spoke with the deepest growl either girl had ever heard come from her.
"Shut UP!" She fired. And the trio went still.
In the distance, from the massive hole burrowed into the wall, the distinctive crashing of loose metal on metal could be heard noisily traveling closer. The wind chime-ish symphony of tone deaf clanging got more and more clear with each passing second.
"We have to go. We've got to go now." and Shaun rips her hand away from Daylah's plush, squished lips, saliva dragging from her palm like the red haired girl forgot to swallow during their 30 seconds of listening out like frightened rabbits. Shaun starts to walk towards the hall they entered, but she's not followed.
"C-c'mon..." Charise chimes "Th-that's not Tiamel. What if... It's another rank with heavy armor. Or..." Shaun responds by grabbing Charise's hands and looking the trembling girl in the eyes.
"It's Tiamel. And we have. To leave." Shaun affirms. She sees something problematic in the corner of her vision, an unexpected circumstance, an uncalculated for variable. Daylah stares at the high up rocky entrance to the cave, glaring at the source of the noise in complete silence. He stance is knob kneed, and her eyes are hollow. Shaun lets go of Charise's hands and instead takes Daylah's wrist and pulls. Daylah does not move in Shaun's direction, not even a step, infact her body threatens to topple rather than moving one muscle. Her only response is quivering lips and to let a dark spot grow blatantly at her shorts and tricke down her thigh in a sharply scented hazel trail.
"She fainted standing, I didn't calculate for this."
"Y-you expected us to fail anyway, right?"
"I expected us to retreat alive."
"What are you saying?"
Shaun tries desperately to pull Daylah, but her feet drag pointlessly on the ground. She's heavy, dead weight. She beacons over Clarise and both try to move the comparatively gargantuan girl, taking her arms up onto their shoulders. They can only move at a limp, and Daylah only offers an occasional twitch.
"Let go. Forget this." She pushes the petite failed spelunker down against the armor sets, and the fire headed girl does nothing in response to the fall but crash into the armors, trembling heavily for a moment as perhaps some part of her tries to move, before crumbling into a mess of hyperventilation and hurt dog yips for help.
"Shhh, shhh. You're gonna be okay, we're gonna get you through this." Shaun says, she's taking armors from the pile and blanketing Daylah over with them now. Daylah feels the weight of some torso filled plates and her cheek touches something cold and slick she might suspect is long dead flesh if her mind wasn't already in a state of total static. She whimpers out "No..." but can only manage to stay still and glare through the gaps in her armor pile veil.
"Arm yourself." Shaun says, facing Charise. She rips the glove off her hand and slams it into Charise's chest before she searches the armours for one that fits. "I'm going to distract Tiamel by wearing an armor and demanding he come towards me. You put on both gloves." She finds another culet and places it over her head, pulling her silky platinum hair from the collar as it bears down it's weight onto her arms, her shoulders barely padded from it's metal by her dress. "Wait near Tiamel's entrance, he won't look back because he'll see me shouting..." Charise is digging lightly in the tiny pile, hurriedly trying to lift Daylah again, but Shaun rejects the notion, slapping the moved armor out of Charise's hands and back into place hiding Daylah. "When you're behind Tiamel, you grab onto his spine with both gloves. You let loose as much fire as you can into him, these gloves are powerful, you can do this. We have the tools to get through this. Just grab anywhere above his tail, you'll melt through his spine before he can even turn around. Go do it!"
The youthful girls wide eyes shine out like a crows as she flits through the darkness with tenuous steps, breathing harshly as she presses her back up against the wall next to the dragons entrance. She judged the size of the hole up above, so many times larger than the cabin in which the three girls stayed. They would be dwarfed by this beast should it come, and it was coming. The cacophany of clangs grew close and overwhelmingly loud, and soon it grew clear what danger befell them. Charise saw a rubbery, bright white claw take to the edge of the hole. Each finger alone had the length and girth of a person, the thing flattened along the surface of the entrance and pulled the body smoothly forward. A long, rounded triangular snout slinked slowly through the hole next. Bright pink eyes took up much of the things face, glaring down at Charise with yellow pupils, she froze in place... Shaun was wrong. Battle hardened dragons know to check their six.
But still Shaun's view was even worse, because she could see the whole of the dragon. The terror that stood 8 meters at least, filling the hole it created. It's pale skin was adorned with armours strung through vines like beads on a necklace. There was lace and lace and lace and lace, wrapped around the dragon from the height of it's long neck like a choker, down to drooping around it's wide shoulders and hanging from there like a chain, dragging armors along the floor. Each armor represented a victim whose nude skeleton could be somewhere within this cavern easily found.
"Tiamel!" Shaun shouted her best shout, her peaking shout feeling like sand on her voice box as she strains herself to reach the dragons ears. The dragon glared in her direction and found an armor clad girl somehow noticeably even smaller than the other humans it had faced. It was wearing a silverly litte bowl around it's shoulders- which it could distinctly remember collecting before- and holding up a sword and buckler as if it were placing any threat. "Tiamel! I'm not afraid of you!" The dragon reacted by flowing from it's entrance, dribbling like water out of one cave and into the other to find itself on the floor infront of the young human kin. The dragon slinked closer and closer to the girl, it's lizard like body peeling it's feet silently from the ground so that only the clanging of metal could be heard. It moved until Shaun could feel hot breath blowing down the colar of her dress and making it ruffle beneath her. Tiamel's tail began to move from it's base, and Shaun could see that happen between the dragons legs. She raised her buckler in preparation for a strike and, as predicted, the tail wrapped around to strike her. But what she failed to predict was the strength.
Her arm was crushed, bent into the bucklers handles and ruined at the elbow. The tail continued after that to bash down into her shoulder, and her back couldn't take the stress. There was a popping sound mixed in with the loud slap of the strike as Shaun's vision turned suddenly sideways. Her legs kept her standing, and her left hand whipped a sword around pointlessly... But her upper body mostly hung sideways and limp, her head and right arm motionless. The buckler dropping from the mangled forearm arm. She could still see Charise in the shadows on the other side of the cave. Apparently having fallen backwards in fear at the vision of her friend being snapped in half, she scrambled to her feet... and she ran. She dashed among the armor piles and found a crevice in the wall, a hole leading deeper into the ever expansive dragon kingdom. She climbed the silvery mounds in a scramble and squeezed her panicked body inside with rat like desperation. Shaun watched this side ways from her low hanging head, and vertigo started to catch up to her as she tried, as well, to run. But all she could do with her cracked open spine was stumble forward and then sideways a step or two and fall helplessly to the ground. She looked up to the dragon, her bright hazel eyes glimmering, shaking with fury. She'd convinced herself into a blind aggression that was just too clouding for her to recognize just how out of element she was, but it would become clear to her in the coming moments.
The dragon took to her limp, lying form. He legs scrambled pointlessly to try and rise against it as it's pointer and thumb moved their sticky surfaces to her stolen goods. They take the breast plate, front and back, and lift her up by it, taking her as easily as a child takes a figurine, and letting her weak body slip out of the oversized culet under the force of gravity alone. She tries to protect herself with her only working arm as her feet, then her knees, hit the ground, but it only does so much. Her face mashes down just next to her left hand, treating her to a bloody nose and a mild daze. She hears the armor clink down in a pile, tossed callously back into the dragons untenable collection. Then she's lifted again, the dragon grasping her in one hand while shifting to sit back on it's hind legs.
Shaun looks up, holding a tenuous grip on what's happening and what's not. She still retains some ability to put two and two together. She thinks 'I guess I get to see what the afterlife is like.' And her expression shows off the line of thought. Her puffy little cheeks, scratched nose and wide eyes look curious and complacent, it's an expression more befitting of awaiting a chess players next move or listening for the next line in a fathers story, her mouth agape in expectation and her body limp from exhaustion and pain. She reflexively flinches what little she can move when the dragon brings it's other hand first to her foot, pulling til one greave slips from her body, then the next. 'Thanks, those were really uncomfortable' humors Shaun to herself as her grip on reality grows further and further and she slowly drifts into some place black. 'Oh, now the armlets.' She thinks next, lifting the one arm she can to the dragon for it's claw to come and meet it, pulling away the bracer there and then going to the next. 'He's really quiet when he's not walking...' Shaun converses in her head some more, bemused by just how clearly she can think in this crisis. 'Did my life have... any impact at all? Tiamel collects armor. I wish I could be a part of his collection. It'd be like being jewelry, accessorized that way...'
But Tiamel's thoughts are all but too similar, he holds her in an open palm and glares down at the pale young girl; taking in her angelic bright hair and glowing Topaz eyes. Her body is not like those other's he's stripped time and time, it is the softest thing he's ever felt, her plush flesh and smooth skin, her dress that flows at the slightest tremor of his hand. From her fair, snowy colors to her light, demure form. The girl that sits in the dragons palm has all the qualities of a feather at many times the size, and he is trapped in her gaze.
XXX Authors Notes
Armor Dragon Tiamel sits enamored with Shaun in his hand. She is as soft and as docile now as the weakest and most subdued of dragon kin, and many times more than that. What will he do?
I've got studying to do, so I don't have time to finish. The last time I wrote a story in two pieces I rushed the ending, I wanted to admit that because I won't do it again. I have an idea what I want to happen next, but I don't know how much, if any, rape should be involved. Tiamel is much bigger than her, and this may be his first time becoming enamored with a human like this. Would it even occur to him to try something so ridiculous?
***Important note: I re-titled this thread by reposting it myself. This post marks the end of that reposting and is all new!
Thank you, with all of the threads with only 1 post, the original, or that have only the Original Poster reposting over and over again, it's nice to have even one comment, it's pretty inspiring. I hope you like this next chapter, I considered your advice and thought the story forward! I also quite meanly probably won't take all of it, I don't know if I can see Tiamel splaying her out like a butterfly. Though I'll make a reference to that recommendation if I get far enough. [I didn't get far enough this writing session, don't go waiting for it. But I still have the idea up in my head!]
I wasn't planning to make a second chapter in this thread, I guess I'll have to make a whole new thread simply called "LAIR." and start posting there. I had to go and make the title so limiting to myself. Oh well. [I did so. Hence the note at the top]
CH 2: Shathahuf
Tiamel's nose droops down to touch the girl. Shaun's breathing quickens as he presses into her body, the pain of any movement threatening to make her black out, she keeps her tie to reality- which is now a strong as torn yarn- out of sheer curiosity about the dragon she has such a rare close proximity to. He rubs his cheek into her, and feels her warm skin give it's heat to his cold. At a tiny twist of her spine in the dragons confused, affectionate nuzzling, she yelps out loud and moans out measley, broken sobs before she graced with fainting. He traced the circle of his home in a huffed three footed pace, holding the sleeping girl he'd fallen for in one palm he held off the ground. This confused the dragon, he was in a daze. What did he want from her? What did he need? He felt there was something he required of her he couldn't get, but he was every passing moment needing whatever it was more. As if an ember in his chest were desperately searching for timber to catch, he felt some glowing spark flit about in his core with the eratic speed and direction of his own mystefied train of thought.
Daylah watched, half blinded by her protection, her mind being fed moment by moment with new terror. Her heart pumping adrenaline into ruined muscles which wrang out with sharp and burning pains as they continued, through exhaustion, to shake. She watched as the albescent beast dropped her friend meters to the hard stone floor. Shaun toppled backwards lazily and crumpled to the ground with a crack of her head against the stone. Daylah whmpered, rustling armors as she tried to lift the weight with her tired muscles... But she knew for certain it was all over for them! Moving made her feel like vomitting. Lifting makes her burning joints grind. So she stays and watches as the paper white lizard inspects Shaun's tiny wrinkled body on the floor.
His sizeable claws hook down to grab Shaun's dress. He can feel the floaty fabric of her skirt and how the flowing, fuzzy quality of it differs from the smooth plush softness of her skin. He likes both, it's so different than armor but it's so similar too. He tries to lift the dress away from her, trying to lift her up first by the hem of her dress. There's a clear noise that shoots through the quiet as her cotton struggles to support the weight of her body and rips at her leg. The dragon responds with a whining yelp that echoes through the halls like a pre-schoolers pouting. He drops her again. His head returns low to the ground, chin planted against the floor to get eye level with his toy. His claw softly flits across the rip as he eyes it, his pupil flitting back and forth analysing the result of his error.
Daylah can't bear the sight. Her whimpers grow louder and louder with the dragons own. Her friend beind dropped and abused and tossed around by a being who can't understand in the slightest the fragility of a human thing. She whimpers out even when the dragons head drops low, and she moves her arm to rise towards her friend until it pokes up through her rattling silver blanket. But she goes silent when she realizes her mistake, the Tiamel's pink eyes move from the rip in the dress to the source of the noise-- her. Tiamel scoops up Shaun again, holding her body-- which he now understands to be quite delicate, cupping her up into one plush palm so she can recline in it.
Daylah silences herself too late as the thing takes body wiggling lizard strides with it's three free claws, dashing towards her armor pile. Before Daylah has even the chance to judge it's distance or speed, she's is touched. Cold armors move around her sore, weight bruised body and a smooth, thick skin travels inside her collar down her bare back, the monsters thumb, it's pointer comes to pinch the back of her shirt and he lifts her up into the air. So quickly her pile descends away from her that she can still see silver and bronze hollow little orbs rolling away from the spot she was hidden as she's lifted 7 meters off the ground to come face to face with the metal clad beast. She screams. Her hands come to the palm hovering above her head, and try to come to the thumb behind her. Her scratches are like dull pats on the thick dragon skin, her thrashing without meaning.
"AAAAaaaaaaiiigh! AAAAAaaaaaagh!" She yelps and cries
"Shathahuf." The dragon breaths out into her face.
"Aaagh... Aaaah. AAAAIAaaaigh!"
"Shut up." Shaun says from her seat in the dragons hand far below. She's just barely awake, and it's nearly a whisper, but she says it, and Daylah continues to scream.
"Shathahuf!" The dragon says again with enough force to move Daylah in the wind and threaten to blow her from her shirt.
"Shut up...!" Repeats Shaun. Daylah... Continues to yell. She whimpers and screams and cries and sobs, every moment she spends quieting down she spends also regaining energy to scream out again.
"SHUT UP!" Shaun cuts the dragon off. "...Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up! He wants, we want you, we need you to shut up! You're loud! You're a loud person! You're screaming, you scream, you always scream! Why don't you ever shut up! Shut up, for silvers sake, shut up!"
Daylah can hear Shaun even through her own hoarse voice, and see her beaming from the dragons palm below. She moans out quieter scared yelps as she looks to Shaun, and then to the dragon, to both sets of eyes glaring back at her. Both her palms come to her mouth to quiet her sobs, replacing her cries with muffled puffs of air. She nodded emphatically, her whole body rattling from her shaking her head so readily up and donw. Letting out muffled affirming noises, as if being quiet was a massive epiphany she would so gladly undertake, saying:
"Mmhm! Mmhm! Mmph!"
Tiamel didn't understand all of what humans said to eachother, but he had enough in the way of context to tell when he was being translated. He wasn't sure if he liked another tiny little voice there, speaking for him, but it was definitely a utility. He lifted the candle-like warm colored little girl and placed her on a high platform, a shelf etched deep into the cave wall. He had to stand on his hind legs to reach it, meaning it was more than 14 meters above the ground. It was a relatively small horizontal slit up high near the ceiling, digging into the caves wall.
Daylah is placed there softly, feet to the ground. She stood and trembled in the colder, damper, high up little space. The alcove was about 4 meters high and impressively vast considering how thin it was. It smelled of dew and was filled with greenery, it was much cooler here than the rest of the armor covered cave, and the cave could be looked out on from the edge of the platform, an overhanging cliffside. The smooth and sharp over hang carved in by the dragons claws, clearly to discourage captives from attempting the climb down. There were little human trinkets strewn about, a tattered wooden chair, a couple back packs filled with random useful items. A first aid kit poured out from one purse, and another open bag was filled with apples-- though they'd molded.
There was also, about 30 steps back into this strange grassy cage, a horror to remind Daylah of the truth of her place. A mangle of skeletons, most all decayed to complete bone. They were all crushed together, each captive at some point died, or atleast looked dead because of weakness or sickness, and was smashed casually into the garbage heap of bones by Tiamels disinterested knuckles. There were at the edges of that pile newer bodies with still some form, meat clung to bones, a blank expression lay on a pale blue face-- Daylah only caught a glimpse before her attention shot away. Tiamels hand came close to her, and pointed to something at the edge of the cove. Long, thick ropes lay, made of vines that also hung from the ceiling. Each rope was 3 Vines twined tightly together, and they lay organized into horizontal lines that followed the curve of the cliff. The dragon lifted up Shaun too, but held her up outside the prison. Her body was still so blantantly broken, and her neck hooked over to lay her head on her shoulder. She looked so sorry. Daylah hated seeing her friend like this, she hated looking but could not look away, and reached softly out to try and touch her friend.
"HathwinnerYa, nethoYaDalee. " The dragon says, and he takes his claw to one of his necklace like adornments. He gripped the thick green rope that all those armors were attached too and shook it, making them clang together around his neck. Shaun made his body language all to clear.
"You, uhm... twine ropes for... his armors, now, he says. That's your job, now, he says."
Shaun's strong, bombastic, loud friend finally stops trembling and goes suddenly hollow... Her eyes look through Shaun and her hands drop limp by her side. Her mouth is agape and Shaun can somehow tell that Daylah has left them; the screaming, quick tempered, panicked girl that was with them moments ago has taken leave, and Shaun's eyes glisten and well up with tears as she goes. The walking corpse turns around and faces the expanse of vines, whisping like an aimless ghost to a random green loop and tugging it down from the craggy cove ceiling, spooling it up into her arm as she puts on a play for herself in her head. It's named: This is all okay.
'I am pretty useful at stuff like this, I was always told I was really good with my hands. It's really no wonder that a dragon picked me. I don't have a problem doing this sort of stuff at all.' The play went on leaving no gaps in her train of thought. All statements, few questions. All good, no bad. A themeless play with a perfect protagonist whose life was perfect and whose conflicts were cute or petty at the worst of times. 'I always knew Shaun's dragonic was good but it's really impressive. The dragon probably loves her, he'll use her like a translator. I wonder where they're going? I know they'll be back soon. I bet Shaun'll teach me draconic when she comes back. I bet I can learn it in a heart beat now that I have the time.' and tears welled up in her eyes and fell down her cheeks as she worked, some subconscious thing dwelling on that word. But Daylah didn't feel the tears, she just turned up the volume on her blissful bright play, "Happy" she had already gathered 3 vines and "excited" to creatively wind them into one dragon sized loop.
XXX Authors notes
I didn't actually get very far tonight at all! But it's not for lack of time. I liked writing this chapter, where it ended as well. I have lots of violence planned, but this was something a little different. I'm probably alone to some extent in considering things grim and dramatic to be similar to guro, but I ended up really satisfied writing what I ended up with here.
I make no promise ofcourse, but I may write more tonight. I hope you're enjoying my little project, so let me know.