dragon dragon, rock the dragon

[agnominal]

Who| Locus and you!
What| You couldn't really have a 'Game of Throne' event without a dragon. So. Have a dragon.
Where| Hallways, various biomes, eventually the training facilities.
When| Game of Throne event
Warnings/Notes| n/a



In the midst of everything that's going on, you might be forgiven for overlooking the transformations of a number of Legionnaires. There's more than enough going on to draw anyone's attention.

But it's a little hard to ignore a large, winged black dragon that is trying its best to make its way down a hall that is almost too small for it. Certainly too narrow for its wings to unfurl, and when it pauses to huff in annoyance, smoke and sparks filter through the hall in drifting clouds. There is a deep, unhappy rumbling from the creature, but it doesn't appear to be aggressive...per se.

Just largely annoyed by its inability to get anywhere fast. And it has to remember not to swing its tail or move too quickly, lest it smash into something.


----




The biomes offer a little relief. One might happen through one of the areas and hear what almost sounds like snoring. A low, rumbling, steady noise, that has no apparent source. None that can be seen, at the very least.

Of course, that leaves the danger of wandering smack into a very irate, very large creature trying to have a nap somewhere comfortable. And how awkward would that be?


----


Of course there are some areas meant for stretching ones legs, for flying about, and for experimenting with ones powers. Here, the dragon eventually lumbers, settling for setting a few dummies on fire in the hopes of taming its annoyance.

It's working to a certain degree, at least.


[ Want a custom encounter with the beast? Let me know, and I'll put down a starter. ]

Comments

[agnominal]

Well, there's a reason for that, isn't there? The fire is there, he knows it is, simmering low and waiting for a reason to be unleashed.

Just to demonstrate he turns his head away from her, lest he risk catching her by mistake, and giving a short, purposeful burst of flame. It swells and billows upwards in the air before vanishing, and that heat? Seems to rise under his scales as he does so, before slowly simmering down once again.

At her request, he gives her a slightly doubtful look before sinking down as low to the ground as he can manage.

[goddamngrenades]

"....hot." Literally and figuratively. Her boyfriend's a dragon. That's- not a terribly odd thought and it probably says something that she leans into him when those scales warm, that she watches the gout of flame without trepidation. It's still Locus and he's still, always, safe.

For them, he's safe.

And, apparently, willing to give the riding thing a go. "You're the best, babe."

She swings a leg up and over, hopping and hefting until she's settled on his back, hands braced against his shoulderblades. "So- not too heavy, you're good?"

[agnominal]

He shifts under her, pulling himself to his feet with care, noting where her legs and her center of balance rest. It's no harder than carrying York would have been piggyback, as they had been before.

But flying is new. Flying with a person? Even more untested.

There's a concerned grumble as he starts to amble forward, more to see if York can keep her balance on him like this before any attempt to take to the sky.

[goddamngrenades]

"Okay- a little like riding horses bareback, I kinda got it." A little. She shifts her weight accordingly, moving with Locus as best she can. It's been years- and it'd only been like, hell, once or twice even then but the mechanics are the same, right?

Right.

It's- interesting? Different enough to be novel and cool enough to keep her giddy. "I've got my flight ring to catch myself if I roll off."

[agnominal]

You could just fly using that instead of riding me, he thinks, but has no ability to say. He just looks back at her with another huff, black smoke curling around his nose.

But that does solve the problem of what might happen if she falls. Not that he'd allow it, of course. Confident that she's got a good hold on him, Locus finally lets his wings stretch outward, as much as they can. How to go about this? Run and then take off? Maybe they were large enough to pick him up at a stand still?

He gives them an experimental flap, and the dust around them billows upwards in a cloud.

[goddamngrenades]

"Don't give me that look. I've wanted to ride a flying dragon since I was six, okay? You're making a childhood fantasy come true here." It's different from the 'being a superhero fantasy' which was also a thing and not one she's going ot touch right now. Right now it's-

Holding on, watching the mechanics of Locus' wings and realizing that, shit, maybe he didn't quite know how to fly yet.

Oh boy.

[araignee_du_soir]

At the movement from the dragon, Widowmaker was instantly alert with her rifle in a ready position. At least until she saw what it was playing with, then she lowered it.

"Not shiny enough for you?"

[agnominal]

The dragon's head turned to look at her, expression unreadable. Then, after a moment's deliberation, he lowered his nose to nudge the bottle across the slick sand towards her.

She might recognize the brand on the bottle as a favorite of the hacker. She might not. Regardless, he lowered his head to rest on his forearms, obviously unhappy despite the lack of readable expression.

[agnominal]

He'd had no real reason to try. Flying with the ring had been something he'd avoided, and the mechanics of this? Still a mystery.

But York wanted to ride a flying dragon. So. Maybe there was something he could do, to that end.

Turning, he regarded the long stretch of rocky slope in front of the base that was his habitat, before starting to make his way down to the bottom. Perhaps a running start up was what was needed, and York could use the practice in holding on.

[araignee_du_soir]

Another eyebrow raised, she turned her gaze to the bottle. Hmm. She thought she'd cleaned up all of Sombra's mess. Apparently not.

"I do not have any more. What was left has already been drank."

[agnominal]

The dragon did not appear to care, either way. While the ground nearest to its muzzle appeared to be warming of its own accord, he showed little interest in moving around or doing much more than sitting on the beach and, for lack of a better term?

Sulking.

[araignee_du_soir]

The dragon was brooding. Widowmaker had plenty on practice identifying brooding and sulking thanks to Reaper. It was rather pathetic to see a dragon doing it.

"Shouldn't you be looking for some 0lace warmer?"

[goddamngrenades]

She may be regretting her life choices a little- but then that made it a Tuesday. Nothing new or earth shattering or even all that startling in the revelation, not in the slightest. This was-

Alright. Locus would learn and she would hold on. Careful, she tucked herself close along Locus' neck, waiting. "You can do it, babe."

[prettycoolguy]

The fact it doesn't do anything snarly or threatening is a definite plus here. Also a plus is that it's communicating at him, this creature is intelligent.

So the next question: Does it have language? He'll find out.

"You're going to have to back up." This hall gets too narrow for the dragon to keep going, it can't stay down here.

Meanwhile, he's calling this in to Security. The Chief's armor systems are integrated with Legion comms, and he can get text through on subvocalization. That conversation goes something like:

There's a dragon here.

Is it doing anything dangerous?

No.

Can you field that one? We have our hands full with the rest of this magic crap.

Should I put it somewhere?

Aaaaand silence. Security is very, very busy today. Looks like the Chief's on his own.

hallway

[orbislife]

After taking his leave of his own biome, Zenyatta has taken to wandering Legion World again. He's not actively seeking new experiences per se; he prefers to let them come somewhat naturally. There is no reason to overwhelm himself when there's already so much going on.

However, flying down the hallway and seeing a large black dragon is not something he can ignore or leave for another time. Zenyatta slows his flight and gently hovers closer.

"Oh dear. This cannot be comfortable for you. Are you stuck?"

[agnominal]

He knows him. He thinks. He looks more human than he recalls, but that voice and tone is very familiar, as is the sedate sense of kindness radiating off of the floating figure. See a monster in the hall? Offer it help.

It's almost certainly who he thinks it is, and he gives a huff of annoyance, black tendrils curling from his nostrils as he does so.

[orbislife]

His guess appears to be correct judging by the dragon's reaction. This is not a wild beast but someone facing a magical effect such as Zenyatta. A trapped animal would respond far more threatening than a grumpy huff. Or perhaps having Genji as a student and calming his inner rage makes Zenyatta a dragon tamer expert.

"I will try to assist you. My name is Zenyatta. Please blink three times if you can understand me," he says. Then he waits. A single or double blink could be considered instinct and automatic. Three blinks have less of a chance of that. (And it doesn't require the dragon to nod in a narrow space.)

[agnominal]

Three very slow, purposeful blinks followed, along with a slight shake of his head and elongated neck. All of this was very awkward and uncomfortable, cramped in this hall as he was. At least Zenyatta wasn't fleeing senselessly before him.

Nice to have confirmation that it is, indeed, his omnic friend. Friend? Yes. Friend is the correct term, or 'friendly' at the very least. There's a brief pause as he sniffs at him, as though this might confirm whatever change has taken place.

[agnominal]

Backing up is...difficult. He can't see anything behind him, and it results in this awkward shuffle before he bumps into a corner, his head swinging around to try and look but his sight blocked by the folds of his wings.

There's a noise that's nothing if not frustrated before it turns its gaze to Chief, rumbling low in its throat. Okay, he'll do what he wants, but there's only so much he can do at this size. Backwards doesn't seem to be an option at this point.

[agnominal]

His head pivoted back to look at her, a deep rumbling catching in his throat as he shuffled on his feet. This was pretty damn new to him, and that faith might be misplaced but...

Alright. They're giving this a try.

Holding his wings aloft, he started to pad his way up to the top, giving a mighty flap as he drew near and...well, he'd lifted off the ground, but not with the height he'd intended.

It ended with him simply leaping backwards some distance, and landing awkwardly on the slope. Alright. Running up might not be the best plan.

[agnominal]

The response didn't come in words. It was a deep gurgling sound, followed by the dragon's mouth opening in a noise almost of complaint. He had every right to be here, as much as she did. She didn't like it? She could try her best to drive him off.

And his tail smacked against the sand in emphasis.

[araignee_du_soir]

"Tch. How irritating." Widowmaker grumbled, shifting her rifle but not moving to get up or raise it. "Dragons are supposed to be able to take humanoid form in stories. That would make this easier. Or if I had spare telepathic earplugs."

Then again, that would've meant putting said earplugs in a dragon's ears. She had no desire to get that close. "At least then I could find out why you have decided a frozen beach is a good place to rest."

[orbislife]

"Oh good. We do not have a language barrier." Zenyatta clasps his hands before him. If he can continue to ask yes and no questions, they can communicate. Or at least, he can communicate in a crude fashion. He will have to figure out a way for the dragon to communicate to him beyond the blinks.

Zenyatta floats to get a better look at the dragon's sides and above. It doesn't seem like the dragon is fully trapped; it's more of a tight squeeze in a narrow hallway. The dragon needs to go someplace larger.

"I would offer my biome for your use, but it is far too cold. We will have to borrow another habitat until the magic wears off. I will reassure others that you are friendly and ask if we may borrow some space. Does that sound like a plan? Please blink three times if you would like to try this."

And of not... Zenyatta will try to think of another way to help.

[agnominal]

Again, three very distinct blinks, before the dragon attempted to stretch itself and look around for the best way to maneuver itself forward without knocking into everything. With Zenyatta leading the way, perhaps it would be a little easier to navigate his way to the majority of the biomes.

He wasn't particularly prone to feeling claustrophobic, but now wasn't the time to test what it would take.

[orbislife]

Zenyatta starts floating (in his slightly off balance way) down the hallway. It's very easy to tell the dragon starts to follow him. The footsteps rumble and shake the hall. As they come close to an intersection, a mop runs across followed by an exasperated Legion World custodian. The custodian skids to a halt and pales when he sees the large dragon behind Zenyatta; all thoughts of chasing his magic'd mop vanish.

"Greetings," Zenyatta starts before the custodian has a chance to scream. "Could you point me in the direction of a large biome? My friend here could use the space."

The custodian looks to Zenyatta, to the dragon, to Zenyatta, to the dragon, and back to Zenyatta. Then he mutters something about not getting paid enough for this mess and more loudly rattles off a location of a grasslands biome. And then he mutters again about needing a raise and walks off in the direction the running mop went.

Zenyatta thanks the custodian (though the custodian didn't wait around for thanks) and then turns to the dragon. "Shall we try that place?"