LOCUS (
agnominal) wrote in
legionworld2017-10-24 12:16 am
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Entry tags:
dragon dragon, rock the dragon
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. ]
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. ]
no subject
Those slitted eyes fixed on Widowmaker where she stood, and it was clear a low, threatening snarl was curling inside of the beast's throat. She had been Sombra's friend, she was here, she was wearing her clothes...
But she did not possess the right to send him away.
Slowly, he pulled himself to his full height, staring her down. Not attacking, no, but making it absolutely clear that he was not going anywhere in a hurry. She was welcome to try and make him.
no subject
This was her home. It didn't matter that this had been Sombra's biome; she had lived there the entire time she had been in this world. More a home than her own biome had been. This place had housed arguments, laughter, teasing, brooding, affection, pettiness and lust. More things than she was ever supposed to be regularly exposed to. Family.
And right then, it felt like all she had left that she could remotely call her own in this damn dimension. Had she been capable of them, tears of anger and determination might have glistened her eyes. Instead, she held her ground, unwilling to be intimidated.
no subject
Indeed. There's something almost familiar in that calmly defiant stare. Maybe it was the framing of that distinctive scarring around the eyes.
That low, constant rumble continued as he stood there, refusing to move an inch with that weapon trained on him.
no subject
...but eventually, even she would get tired of a standoff like this.
She didn't lower her weapon, but she decided to speak to the dragon. "Look here, dragon. This is my home. Do not damage anything or set anything on fire, because I will kill you." Her eyes narrowed. "Hopefully, you will disappear soon in a puff of magic, along with this freeze."
Widowmaker wasn't expecting an answer or the dragon to even understand her, but she lowered Widow's Kiss a bit.
no subject
It was uncomfortable, and unfamiliar. The nights spent here were usually warm, smelled of tequila and fire and salt. It almost seemed fitting that it would be barren and cold now, with Sombra gone.
But that was perhaps leaning towards Washington levels of melodramatic.
no subject
Sure, the dragon would disappear soon (it better), she still needed to protect the safety of the beach house. From what she knew, only her, Reaper and Sombra had known the exact house they had made their domicile. Which meant it was just her knowledge now. It needed to stay that way, so she found a place on the beach to settle down on, rifle across her legs, where she could see the dragon.
no subject
A bottle, left there after one of their 'parties', no doubt. With a deep, low noise resonating in his throat, the dragon nosed the bottle along, watching the label roll into view, before lowering his head again.
Collecting a horde of old memories was probably not going to help anyone, draconic instincts aside.
no subject
"Not shiny enough for you?"
no subject
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.
no subject
"I do not have any more. What was left has already been drank."
no subject
Sulking.
no subject
"Shouldn't you be looking for some 0lace warmer?"
no subject
And his tail smacked against the sand in emphasis.
no subject
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."
no subject
With careful deliberation, the dragon lifted a claw and began to etch into the sand. Cold and stiff, it kept form relatively well as he drew a familiar-looking skull into the ground.
That should be clarification enough for anyone.
no subject
"Oh." Clearly this wasn't Sombra in dragon form, which meant it was: "Locus. I should have recognized the brooding."
Getting to her feet and resting the rifle on her shoulder, she started to walk away. "I will still kill you if you destroy anything. You at least still have York."