Jonouchi

~Skybound Adventurers~

I. “Are you sure we should be doing this?” Brightwing whispered. “Shhhh,” Jono said, squinting into his field glasses. “This is important.” “How is this important?” Brightwing’s shoulders were beginning to ache from holding the Nocturne up, to look over the pile of discarded springs. He was quite portly. Still, it was up to Brightwing to do it: Surak’s recent change had left him weak. “Because,” Jono hissed. “That’s my damn ship. And not just any one of my ships: my personal flagship.” Across Starshade’s Field of Ingenuity lay The Capsize, Jono’s pride and joy. The flying ship had been stolen from his yard by who-knew-whom, and had ended up here somehow. Jono squinted harder and tried to tamp down his rage. The usually-buoyant ship was lying on the ground. There were holes in the hull. The mast was broken, the sheet bearing his Eagle insignia was rent in half. Why the hell would they take a ship just to — He froze.

A line of fiery-looking dragons had formed a cargo line, and were tossing rocks from one to the next. Those rocks were the Floaters, the magic stones hidden deep in the ship, that were supposed to keep it aloft. As Jono watched, a few escaped the dragons’ grasps and began to soar into the atmosphere.
He cursed. Brightwing’s arms gave out abruptly. Jono toppled to the dirt, covered his face, and groaned. “This is worse than I expected. I never should’ve listened to you all about giving up my tour business.”
“I didn’t say give it up,” Brightwing said in disgust. “I said I wanted to spend time with you, and soaring all over the city wasn’t my idea of fun.”
“Well, it was mine,” Jono snapped.
Surak, quiet until now, took a pull from his inhaler and coughed it out. “So.”
“So?” Jono scowled.
“So what are we going to do?” Surak clarified.
Jono got to his paws and spat in the dirt. “Get my damn ship back, I reckon.”
II.
The fiery-looking dragons made him nervous, to say the least. And Jono generally wasn’t a nervous guy.
Of course, most dragons were intimidated by the Fields of Ingenuity. The big grassy field was completely covered in inventor-junk, a shadowy wasteland on the edge of the city.
But Jono had grown up here. A hands-on kind of Nocturne, he had created his airship tour business and gotten it to flourish. Though his marketer, Brightwing, constantly told him he needed to delegate tasks, he simply couldn’t give up being a tour-guide.
It just never got old for him. The dragons aboard were always different. He never tired of seeing new excited faces.
And of course, the one week he finally did take a vacation, some group of randoms had stolen his ship right out from under his nose.
He tried to stand tall as he approached them. Of course Brightwing looked mean—she always did. And Surak, of course, looked shy and retiring. But there was nothing Jono could do about that.
Better now than later. Jono cleared his throat and, in his best tour-guide voice, boomed “Well, well, well. What’s going on here, lads?”
They all whirled to look at him.
For a moment, Jono wasn’t sure they were dragons. They looked more like shadowy beasts—half-dragons, maybe, with beady eyes.
Then the lead one—a big black dragon with a red gaze—coughed heartily and shook his head. “Mr. Jono, of FlyTour. It’s incredible to meet you.” He stuck out a paw to shake.
Jono ignored it. “What’s less incredible is you all stealing my ship.”
The fiery shadows traded glances. The lead one frowned. “Your ship…? It has been stolen?”
“Yes. It’s right there, isn’t it?” Jono pointed, looked closer, then bit his tongue.
The ship looked different close up. Bigger, blacker. And the sail wasn’t painted with an eagle, but a gryphon.
He’d been so convinced it was his ship that he hadn’t noticed until—
“It’s not yours, is it?” Brightwing said.
“Thank you, Miss Obvious.” Jono bowed deeply as his heart sank. “Well, sorry for troubling you all.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” The big black dragon took his paws. “Somebody stole a ship from FlyTour? But you all are the nicest guys!”
Jono blushed. “Yeah, well, thank you, I—“
“Is it that one?” The black dragon pointed across the field. “I thought that one looked to be a strange pirate ship.”
Jono bit back a curse. Was it his?
If it was, it was crawling with pirates.
“It might be,” Jono allowed.
“It is,” Surak said.
“Unfortunate,” the other dragon sniffed. “You’ll probably have to race them to get it back.”

I. “Look,” Brightwing was saying. “I’m sorry, okay? Now I know not to ask you take time off like a reasonable dragon anymore.” “Why does a marketer like you want time off anyway?” Jono grumbled. “Surak here never asks for time off, and he pilots and cleans the ships.” Brightwing bristled. “I fly the ships too sometimes.” “Yeah. You crashed the Brightbelle. I remember.” “I thought you were over that.” The three of them were standing beside a huge half-structure of metal and wood. The sun was fading away, and the wild red-gold light lit up the metallic parts lying around. The Field of Ingenuity looked like a modern art exhibit, or a deity’s junkyard.

The three of them watched the pirates laugh it up aboard the ship. They had lively music going and were frying some kind of bacon.
Surak’s stomach growled. As a Spiral, he seemed so much hungrier now.
“I treat my business family well,” Jono was saying in a low, pleading voice. “I don’t deserve this. I mean, I paid for Surak’s operation—“
Surak coughed heavily and nodded thanks.
“I paid for your stupid vacation—“
“And you can afford to take a loss,” Brightwing said softly. “Forget the ship. Dock my pay and get a new one.”
“Please. It ain’t about that.” Jono sighed. “This is a matter of pride. Of honor. If I don’t get this ship back…what’s to stop the pirates from starting their own sky tours?”
“For one, I don’t think that’s what pirates do.” Brightwing’s eyes narrowed.
“Or steal things? More ships?” Jono wrung his hands. “That’s mine, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Surak said hoarsely.
“Shut your mouth. Doctors said you weren’t supposed to talk for a couple weeks.” Jono ran a paw across his forehead. “Fine. Fine. I’ll go talk to them.”
“We’ll go talk to them. Together.” Brightwing took Surak and Jono’s paws and led them forward.
II.
The sight of it made Surak’s heart ache. The lovely, clean white hull had been painted with black and red X’s. There was a scuff mark where the nasty crew had broken the chain to steal it. As they approached, someone tossed an ale bottle overboard—it shattered near their feet.
At least the craft was airworthy. It bobbed several feet above their heads.
Jono’s face crumpled. Surak knew he was a big but sensitive guy. He wasn’t surprised when the Nocturne formed a fist and beat it against the ship’s hull.
The music stopped at once. “What’s that?” one of the pirates asked.
“Hey!” Jono shouted. “That’s my ship!”
A host of glowing eyes peered over the rim. Surak counted two Mirrors, a Nocturne and a Tundra before he gave up trying.
The lead Mirror spat down. Brightwing moved to avoid it.
“Not anymore, it isn’t,” the female Nocturne called. “S’ours now.”
“That’s not how property law works!” Jono called. “I’m calling the police.”
“So call them,” the female Mirror taunted. “They never do anything.”
“She’s right,” Brightwing whispered. “But I have an idea.”
“Come on. Don’t,” Jono said urgently.
Surak took another hit off of his inhaler and shut his eyes tight.
Brightwing stepped nearer. “Someone told us you all like to race.”
There was silence.
The female Nocturne scowled down at them. “Race a bunch of tour guides. Really?”
“We pride ourselves on being the fastest ships in the city regardless of our job,” Brightwing called. “And if you’re not scared, you’ll do it.”
“So let’s race them,” they heard the male Mirror hiss. “Why not? It’s not like we have anything better to do until—“
The others hushed him.
Surak coughed, wheezed and shouted, “Winner take all!” It hurt his throat to do so. But he did.
“Pathetic,” the female Nocturne sniffed. “We’ll do it. One week from today.”
III.
“One problem down,” Brightwing said cheerfully. They were walking slowly back across the Field, trying not to cut themselves on metal scraps in the dark.
“One problem d—are you crazy?” Jono took her by the shoulders. “One problem down, she says. Yes, sure. Now we just have to race a bunch of pirates who are using my own ship. That sounds like at least two problems.”
“Hey. All I said was we took care of one problem.” Brightwing shook his paws off. “Besides. Just pick one of the ships from the fleet—“
“Oh, no. Not taking a tour boat.”
“Why not?”
“Races…boats get damaged. You know this.” Jono cocked his head, realizing he’d said the wrong thing.
“No, I don’t know this,” Brightwing said slowly. “Because I never raced. Did you?”
Jono braced himself. “Maybe a little. Back in the day.”
Brightwing coughed. “Unbelievable. You’re such a stick in the mud, I never would’ve guessed.”
“Watch it, girl.”
“What about theirs?” Surak pointed to the fiery dragons.
“What did I tell you about talking?” Jono frowned at him.
The dark, small dragons were reloading their hull with the Floaters. Rebalancing it.
Jono paused. “You know, I can already tell you all have too much weight to starboard.”
The leader laughed his way again. “So? Did you get your ship back?”
“Nope. Have to race them.” He picked at his teeth. “No boat to do it in, though.”
“Oh, of course you can use ours.”
“Really?” Brightwing leaned forward eagerly.
“Certainly. For a price.”
Brightwing, Jono and Surak sighed in unison.

I. The fire dragons’ boat looked like a pile of scrap to begin with. But beneath its rough exterior, it was crafted with fine lines and great attention to detail. The wood was a lighter, more exotic kind than the tour boats were built out of. Something from the Windswept Plateau. Faster, more agile—in theory. Surak joined the fire-crew in swabbing the deck and polishing everything with air grease to help it rise. He couldn’t sing along with the cheerful dragons, but he could hum. The fire dragons, all of whom had beautiful voices, were confused by this. They gave him mints and cordials to soothe his throat. Brightwing was in charge of the Floater-balance and the sails. It was strange to see the Spiral sit down with the torn cloth, with nothing more than white thread and a thimble. But within a day, every sail was patched up and air-worthy. She had taken the time to paint, to crown the gryphon with an eagle atop its head. The fire dragons found that hilarious.

And Brightwing wasn’t shy about bringing in supplies—twine, additional Floaters, and a wrought-aluminum anchor—from FlyTour. “Dock my pay,” she kept saying, but Jono knew he wouldn’t.
Because as much as he hated to admit it, it felt good to race again.
Was it illegal? Oh, yeah. Dangerous? Certainly. But he was pleased that both Brightwing and Surak trusted him enough to fly with him.
And the price the fire dragons had asked was reasonable.
They wanted a year of free tours.
II.
The pirates kept sending dragons to come over and jeer at them. The female Nocturne in particular irked him. Ponzu, she was called.
Unlike the others who shouted taunts, she simply stood there with a permanent grimace on her face. This was somehow more unnerving than the alternative.
So Jono returned her fierce glare with one of his own, spitting every time she did.
On the night before the race, he stalked up to her.
“Getting nervous?”
She cocked her head. To his surprise, she said, “Perhaps.”
“You—-ah—-uh—good. Um. Good. Yeah.” Jono turned away with a flush.
“I’ve heard some interesting things about you from the locals, about your past?” Ponzu’s eyebrows rose. It was an invitation to boast.
He didn’t take the bait. He turned his back on her.
Brightwing was waiting beside the ladder onto the ship. “Nice comeback.”
“Hush your mouth, little one. Where’s McCoughFace?”
“Sleeping.”
“Do you—you think he’ll be good for the ballast? It’s a quick reaction time.”
He saw from the bemused expression on her face that he’d said the wrong thing again.
“You’ve got to quit babying him. He’s fine. He’s still the same dragon. He just looks different.”
“Is he…happier? Now that he’s a noodle like you?”
Brightwing laughed and shook her head. “You’re impossible, boss.”
“Good.”
“Yeah, um, uh,” Brightwing mocked lightly. “Good.”
III.
The day of the race dawned brilliant, garish gold.
No one had slept the night before. Everyone was at their stations after a hasty breakfast—choking down muffins and biscuits.
Jono stood at the great black steering wheel and felt a shiver. At least it will be over, one way or another. Let’s do this!
Men! he tried to call, but realized he couldn’t. His voice was gone.
It was such a strange feeling—such an unexpected turn of events—that he stood there mutely for a moment.
He tried again.
All that came out was a gruff croak.
Surak was beside him in a flash. His voice was low and musical; the fire dragons’ remedies must have helped.
“What’s wrong?”
Jono pointed frantically at his throat and shook his head. Panic reared up inside of him.
But Surak took his shoulders. “That’s alright. I think I can handle it from here. You’ve got the wheel, though.”
What did I tell you about talking?! Jono wanted to say, but he couldn’t.
Surak lifted his neck and called out, “Crew, today is a great day to fly.”
There were cheers throughout the ship.
“Brightwing, the ballast!” Surak sang out. “Lift the anchor! We’re headed for the edge of the city!”
Jono clung to the wheel as the ship bobbed upward beneath him.
The first instants were always the most frightening. The ship seemed to rise forever. It was easy to imagine them floating away, sinking into the darkness of the sky.
“Even out!” Surak called. He looked tall, bright-eyed, handsome and alert.
Who’s the real captain here? Jono wondered. He shook his head. No time to worry about that.
As they drifted elegantly toward the starting point, they saw the other ship rise alongside them.
Jono’s jaw clenched. There was smoke pouring from beneath the prow. The pirates had adopted controversial coal-powered technology in addition to the Floaters.
Faster, maybe. But also less safe.
Finally, both ships rested on the fringe of Starshade. The two crews looked at one another.
Jono saw Ponzu rest a foot on the foredeck and sneer. “On your mark!”
“Get set!” Surak shouted back.
“Go!” Everyong called at once.
IV.
Flying. Fleeing.
The wind turned cold at once, and whipped Jono’s scarf around his neck. The sails flapped. The ship groaned and tilted to the side.
The pirates had shot ahead. Jono concentrated on the bright red FlyTour logo painted on the back and clung to the wheel. Towers whooshed past. He saw dragons peering from their windows. The Observatory and the Gemology Institute glistened in the morning sun.
“We need more power! Less ballast! Up!” Surak rapped out. The ship responded at once. The surge upward bent Jono’s knees. The wheel began to turn in his paws. His talons dug into the wood and yanked it back to keep the steady.
To his surprise, the pirate ship was slowing down and listing badly to port.
Brightwing dashed up beside him and peered through her field-glasses.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on ballast?” Surak shouted.
“We’ve only got the anchor left.”
Jono frowned, then yelped. The bottom of the boat scraped along the top of a business. Moments later, little flecks of Floaters rose past them and shot into the sky.
That was bad.
But not as bad as the pirate’s ship.
Someone had stoked the coal too much. Unable to stop their forward momentum, they careened slowly, gracefully against a skyscraper.
Red-orange flames began to engulf the starboard deck. Some of the dragons were leaping overboard and taking flight.
The fire dragons were cheering, but Jono wasn’t.
My ship! The pirates!
Surak was right there with him. “They need our help. Do we have water?”
“Some,” Brightwing gasped. “But we need to be closer.”
Jono shuddered. Time for all those fancy flying tricks.
Instead of overtaking them, he nudged his ship nearer and nearer to the pirates’.
“Water overboard! Onto them!” Surak shouted.
The crew was temporarily confused, but began hurling water over the side as soon as they could. Plumes of black smoke engulfed everything.
Jono doubled over, coughing. Through his tears, he could barely see Surak and Brightwing’s brave faces.
Then there was a cannon-shot.
That was the part Jono couldn’t believe. He was trying to help them!
Floaters spilled from his hull, flinging themselves into the air. Their ship began to sink.
Oh no they don’t.
In a white rage, Jono rammed the fire dragons’ ship against the other one. The Floaters there fell out, too. Then both ships were hurtling toward the ground, entwined and completely covered in smoke.
V.
He woke up with Surak, Brightwing, the fire dragons and the pirates in jail.
Both groups were in different cells, and sat glaring across the hall at one another.
“Mr. Jonouchi,” a police-Guardian said.
“Please,” he croaked. “Call me Jono.”
The Guardian chuckled. “Loved FlyTours as a kid.”
“Thanks, sonny.” Jono sighed.
“But it’ll be a while before we get this sorted out.”
Jono leaned back in Brightwing’s lap. “You know what I need after this?”
“Don’t say it,” Brightwing warned. Surak laughed.
“Another vacation.”

--bios thanks to Caelyn--


Jono - - - - - - - - - - - Brightwing - - - - - - - Surak - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -