Argost

Argost Drakemechan | Aspect of madness, Son of Deity | Chaotic Extra | Loyal, mean, crazy, brutal Drakemechans Theme: X Argost's Theme: X Race: Drakemechan. Family of mechanical Gods, Deities and Aspects Class: Berserker Abilities: - Electrical discharges - Creating thunderstorms - Ice shield (ice covers his scales) - Influencing reality from dreams (he can appear in someone's dream, wound someone and the wounds would be real when person wakes up. He can also protect someone from another creatures that are able to hurt someone like that) - Expanded perception (He can see the dreamland mixing with reality / see things that no one would) Element: Don't be fool by his red eyes! He's 100% lightning element (well maybe 95% lightning and 5% ice) He's the son of Déblør (read like "Dabbler"), Deity of the storm. He's the aspect of maddnes, that means, he's connected not only with reality but also with dreams and nightmares. He had really hard time trying to figuer out what's true reality. Now he's able to perfectly travel in dreams and even bend the reality while dreaming. As a berserker, he's really immune to damage and deals high damage. The lower his health is the stronger he gets. Blood affects him as well, working like doping. He's an amazing warrior He's the mean one, with sharp tongue and good points. He'll probably laught at you for your stupidity or would be really disappointed. Kinda crazy, with crazy (and sometimes dangerous) ideas. He's not afraid of exterminating unwanted guests or experimenting on someone. He's a scientist with high medical knowledge and a technician. Known for his cold (like ice) behavior. He preffers cold weather. May be mean but he's also very loyal and would never betray his family. As a oldest Aspect, he takes most responsibilities from his brothers. He can be hard and strict outside, but sometimes he's soft inside. And because of that, others can see him as durable, assertive, resolute and brave. The only thing he's afraid is to be rejected. He was an experiment of his own father, they both started as ice dragons, but Déblør had enough of being weak, so during horrible experiments he changed his own element to the lightning, and years later he did so to his own son. Argost didn't had childhood as he spent some time in growing chamber, to get adult much faster. He was born/created much earlier than his brothers, he didn't meant to be a son, but a weapon. He wasn't even a true son as he was 75% clone of Déblør.'s DNA.. with 15% of Nightrus DNA Argost was trained and raised in strict rules to be the perfect warrior and aviator. Déblør always demanded absolute obedience from Argost, punishing him for small mistakes. But there was a place for a bit of love when Argost did everything right. During the fratricidal war when Deities were fighting, divided into "Light ones" (Goldrus, Rammer, Fraux) and "Dark ones" (Nightrus, Déblør, Camerton). Rammer was the one who hated Argost the most of all from another fraction. As a strict and cold protector, Rammer couldn't accept existance of such digusting copy of his brother Déblør. Rammer was taing Argost as main target during fights, trying to kill young disgusting Argost His cracked like scar is from his own father, who got disappointed with Argost's failure during battle, so he decided to punish him with electrical discharge. He, the dragon of lightning and storm, almost died from electricity, that's what you can call shocking. Déblør definitely knew how to do something like that. War ended, Argost got imprisoned under pieces of the castle that fell and broke apart. No one knew that he survived. Thousands of years later it turned out that he's alive. Young Aspects found him and he realized, he have younger brothers. He was jealous at first as they were raised with love, but then, he decided to fight with his own negative feelings to take care of them. It was really dificult at first, as no one trusted him. Because he was only created as a weapon for the big war. But after 10 years he gained the trust of his brothers and also of the Deities, his father as well. He have abandon issue and some trauma from getting punished almost to death by his father Déblør. Sometimes he gets paralyzed by fear but after few seconds he's able to win with it. He prefers to spend time alone and work on his tech projects. But he won't refuse spending time with his brothers or fathers if they really want to. He's really like his father Déblør, and the only son that is identical to father (only eye color is different). And just like his father, he's kinda crazy loner, very into science and medicine. During 10 years after homecoming, he had enough time to spend with every father and every brother, to be accepted by all close family members. Even Rammer, who was his main enemy during war. Déblør was the hardest one to gain his trust, as he remained strict to Argost (Even if Déblør is really soft to his second son Mero). But he got warmer and shows Argost love and appreciation much more than before, still demanding a lot from him tho. Other: Not for trade or replacement Sparksylph Husk Trinkets A glass mask created by the passage of a sparksylph through sand. Most impressions are not this sharp! 53 Titanium Wrench Dragonmade Good for building and breaking. 51 Chrome Laser Head Dragonmade Attach to the head of a frickin' Granite Thresher (or ill-tempered mutated Pale Smallmouth) and you might just take over the world. 52 Monitor Tendril Organics A favored diversion for hatchlings, these tendrils will glow and twitch for weeks. 50 Volt Wiring Dragonmade Every one of these wires has been gnawed. 53

Family tree:

Goldrus - Deity of sun and bravery (Co-leader, Palladyn) Rammer - Deity of earth and protection (Protector)(not actually light one as he's night creature) Fraux - Deity of fire and order (Scout)

Nightrus - Deity od moon and nightmares (Co-leader, Palladyn) Déblør - Deity of storm and lust (Scientist/Berserker) Camerton - Deity of time and chaos (Mediator)(not actually dark one as he's light creature)

Goldie - Aspect of war(Co-leader, Palladyn) Fiiar - Aspect of loyality (Protector) Magler - Aspect of agreement (Scout)

Kiur - Aspect of peace (Co-leader, Palladyn) Argost - Aspect of madness (Scientist/Berserker) Chikk - Aspect of disagreement (Mediator)

---

Chronology:

1. ErrÆk'tia creates/modify the world for his own purpose. Then he created a son, Staligard but it turns out that Hirum also got created because good can't exist without evil.

2. Staligard and Hirum spends years on creating their pieces of the world. Then they decides to have sons. First created/born was Déblør, and then Goldrus, Rammer, Camerton, Fraux, Neron, Nightrus.
-ErrÆk'tia disappears, overhelmed by the size of his family.

3. Déblør have ice element and brothers makes fun of him because he's a support class, so he can't fight well. He decides to choose the dark path and experiment on himself to forcefully change his element from ice to lightning/storm which turns out to be a success, but at what cost? So much suffering.

4. Brothers gets mad at him. There is a split between the light and the dark ones (almost, as dark one - Rammer joins his light brothers; and light one - Camerton joins his dark brothers. Which is a great move because they can easier predict next move of the another team)
Goldrus feels like a leader and he's really mad at Déblør, he'sarrogant. Rammer and Fraux joins him on the side of "You did wrong, you stupid, we hate you". Nightrus tries to protect Déblør. Camerton joins them on the side "he did what he wanted to and thats ok". Neron is 'neutral' but he want the war and see his brothers die so he incites them to fight.
-Staligard and Hirum disappears as they can do nothing (believe me they tried)

5. The war started. It lasted for millennia.

6. Argost got created from Déblør's DNA to ge a general of his army, and to be a weapon. He's raised and trained for the war. In the meantime he went through same experiments to change his element to lightning/storm.

7. There were many battles between two fractions.

8. Argost lose battle for one of islands. He goes back to Déblør's winter castle and gets punished by his father. He got hit with awfully strong electric discharge that left cracked like scars on his face and body. He was lying on the ground when Nightrus, Déblør and camerton left castle to talk with another fraction

9. It turned out that Goldrus have enough of war and he offered peace. Brothers create an alliance No more war. Neron gets really mad at them and tries to kill them but they manages to imprison him in the void dimmension. In the meantime, winter castle fells down killing Argost inside.

10. They thought that Argost died. They moved into different place in the world. Millennia passed and Deities got sons.
Goldie - Son of Goldrus
Kiur - Son of Nightrus
Fiiar - Son of Rammer
Magler - Son of Fraux
Chikk - Son of Camerton
Mero - Son of Déblør (yes, he's not son of Neron as Neron never had a son. Instead, Déblør have two sons: Argost and Mero. Mero is similar to Neron with his colors and lack of power crystal anyway.)
They are all brothers, just new generation

11. Another millennia passed. Goldie gets expedition to the place of winter castle with his brothers and finds Argost. There are few more fights and Goldie saw him as a threat.

12. One day they returns with Argost. Deities aren't happy, as Argost reminds them of war. he never meant to be a son... He was somewhere and they didn't know what he did in millennia so they can't trust him. Argost also gets pretty sad as Mero is his replacement in Déblør's life.

13. Present... over 10 years passed. Goldie stopped fighting and arguing with Argost. Everyone accepted him and now he's the member of family. But sometimes he feels really lonely tho.. Misunderstood and rejected. He walks his own path, but takes a good care of his younger brothers, especially Mero.

---

Story by rei711:

Shocking Recollections

It's a terrible night for a thunderstorm.

The old scars are aching, tingling unpleasantly just underneath his skin. Metal and scale blend together in an almost seamless fashion, but even if the cold metal is incapable of true sensation, the flesh beneath is. Argost is accustomed to storms - it comes with being a lightning dragon. The rolling of thunder may as well be akin to a lullaby to him by now, the flash of lightning barely anything to bat an eye at. Safe and tucked away in his little laboratory, watching as the rain pours down outside the window, Argost settles himself comfortably at his desk. Once, he would have found the buzz underneath his skin unbearable, a constant reminder of his past failures, but he's had millennia to live with it. It's nothing more than a background itch at this point, but it's enough to make him briefly consider if it's possible to invent something to get rid of that annoying sensation.

For a brief instant, he's blinded by the flash of lightning as it strikes just outside his window. An earsplitting crack follows a heartbeat later, the vibrations rumbling through the walls and the floor. Wincing, Argost blinks away the dancing lights in his vision, before something else catches his attention. There's the rumble of thunder outside, yes, but now there's a new noise coming from somewhere nearby. An ominous hissing crackle, like the spitting of oil on a frying pan. Alarmed, he does a quick survey of his surroundings - the lamp is working fine, the air purifier is working fine, there's sparks flying from the plug connecting his chargeable powerpack to the socket... wait.
Sparks?

Instinctively, Argost reaches out to yank the plug free from its socket, only for his fingertips to brush against the still-sparking metal pins.

Claws, crushing his windpipe and squeezing the air from his lungs. Blistering agony, electricity running white-hot through his veins. The smell of burning flesh and melting iron.

It fades as soon as he drops the plug, shaking his hand and hissing quietly under his breath. Thousands of years may have passed since then, but he's never forgotten that day he was left for dead, crushed underneath the remains of a collapsed castle.

-
"You what?"

Argost had braved many things. The harshest of thunderstorms, the bloodiest of battlefields. He'd nearly been torn apart just trying to escape the island he had sworn to protect, barely made it back to Déblør's winter castle in one piece as it was. Bloodied and battered, metal dented in countless places, but alive nonetheless. Someone had to warn the others. How many of his soldiers had escaped, Argost didn't know, but far as he could tell he was the first - possibly the only - one who had made it here in time to warn his allies.

"The island has been taken. And you dare stand before me now, preaching of your failure?"

His father was not pleased to hear it. They would have to gather the others, no doubt, and discuss what was to be done next. Preparations needed to be made, the army mobilized and weapons forged - but they would pull through victorious, he was sure. They had no other choice. He had failed, but at least he'd returned with information, hadn't he?

Outside, a storm was fast brewing. Dark clouds were rolling in fast, heavy with rain. In the distance came the low, ominous rumble of thunder. Déblør stood before him, staring him down with an unreadable expression.

"I... I am aware. But now that we know what our enemies are planning, we can at least prepare for-"

He never saw the blow coming. One moment he was on his feet, the next he was staggering backwards as a solid fist crashed into his jaw. Reeling, Argost stumbled backwards, one hand coming up to gingerly touch his bruised jaw. "You disappoint me," Déblør hissed. "You should have died with them, not fled with your tail between your legs like a coward."

"But-"

"You left your men to die, while you ran to safety," Déblør accused. The air was charged with static, the tension practically palpable. He'd never seen his father this furious. "Deserter. Traitor. I should execute you myself for having the guts to show your face before me after such miserable failure."
You know the consequences, Argost. It echoed in his mind, reverberating within his skull. He'd always known that Déblør took poorly to failure, but this was a fury unlike anything he'd ever seen before. Before he could say anything else to appease him, however, he was thrown violently back against the wall. His head cracked against the stone, dizzying lights bursting into his vision for several seconds. In an instant, Déblør was upon him, claws wrapped around his throat, breath hot against his face.

"Father, please-"

"You knew what was coming," his father snarled, eyes lit with an unnatural glow. "You knew the price of failure." His grip tightened, throttling and unyielding. Argost choked, scrabbling at his father's hands, desperately trying to pry them loose. Electricity arced from Déblør's skin, dancing down his arms. Overhead, the lights flickered. White hot heat surged through him, every muscle locking up against his will. Déblør kept him pinned as he thrashed uselessly, limbs twitching against the agonizing onslaught. Too much. Couldn't get away. Acrid bile rose in the back of his throat, eyes rolling back into his skull. Was he screaming? He couldn't tell. His skin was splitting apart, the smell of charred metal and flesh sickeningly strong.

It could have only been for a few seconds. To Argost, it felt like nothing short of an eternity. When Déblør finally released him with a disgusted huff, his body crumpled to the floor, twitching in jerky spasms. Seconds before his vision faded to black, his father spoke again, the words clear as day despite his failing consciousness.

"You are no son of mine," he spat. The last Argost saw of him was his turned back, before his awareness faded completely.
-
"-gost. Argost. Hello?"

A blink, and he's back in his room, staring down at the disconnected plug he'd dropped onto the table. Déblør stands in the doorway, leaning against it with a concerned look. From the look of it, he's been standing there for longer than just a few moments. Shaking himself off briskly, Argost turns in his seat to face him. "Yes? Sorry, I was... distracted."

Déblør grunts, though his eyes don't leave Argost. "It's time for dinner. You shouldn't be cooped up here for so long. Take a break and come eat." When Argost doesn't move immediately, he tilts his head, frowning in confusion. "What're you waiting for?"

"That's it?" He's never quite gotten used to Déblør being so casual with him, when his childhood days were spent largely cowering in fear of his father. "You... just wanted to come tell me to eat dinner?"

His father snorts. "Do I need another reason to come see my son?"

*You are no son of mine.* Those words echo in his mind even now, but their harshness has dulled over the years. Instead of steely glares and demands for perfection, Déblør's mellowed out in his older age - and so has Argost, really. *My son.* It takes Argost long moments to speak, struggling to suppress the smile that threatens to take over his face at the simple acknowledgement. "We can eat together," he suggests, half-expecting Déblør to refuse, to turn away and scoff at the idea of it.

Instead Déblør claps Argost on the shoulder as he joins him outside, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. "I suppose we can," he agrees. "Come on. Food's going to get cold at this rate, we'll be scolded by the cook if we take any longer to get there."

---

Story by rei711:

Reunion

This is... not at all how he envisioned a family reunion to look like.

"Isn't he our brother? Of course we had to bring him home!"

"You fools," hisses the other dragon, golden plates almost seeming to ripple in anger. "We should never have brought him back! You guys don't understand what you've just done, do you?"

Ouch. It may have been years since he saw his last living relatives, but it still stings coming from someone he technically shares ties with. Standing off to the side, Argost heaves a weary sigh. Perhaps he should have stayed where he was, rebuilding the ruins. If he'd known coming home was going to spark this much commotion, it might almost have been better to stay gone - even if deep down, he's missed the company of his brothers more than he'd ever care to admit.

It looks more like a war council than a family meeting. On one side huddle the younger generation of brothers - the group that found him in the first place, and all but decided to bring him home. On the other side are painfully familiar faces he hasn't seen in years - each and every one of them glowering at him with freezing hostility. Less than an hour into his homecoming and they've somehow managed to gather almost everyone in the family - he's almost impressed most of the older ones even bothered showing up.

"What's your problem, Goldie?" asks one of the younger dragons - Kiur, Argost thinks, but he can't be sure. "Don't you want to know what's going on? How we have a brother - maybe even brothers that our fathers never told us about?" The others are nodding their heads in agreement, but Argost can already see the way the faces of the elders darken, clearly unhappy.

"This thing is no brother of yours, or ours," rumbles Rammer, with a voice so deep it could shake the earth itself. "It was meant to die in the wars. It has no place in our home." He rises from his seat, slow and ponderous, refusing to even look directly at Argost.

Argost has seen many things. He's witnessed the rise and fall of several ages, the bloodshed of a thousand soldiers and more. He's known for years now that he's never been considered a 'son', not since the day Deblor declared otherwise. But to hear his own brethren speaking of him with such condescending disgust is a pain unlike any wound he's ever received - maybe even worse than the day Deblor cast him out. He knows even without looking up that there are others who agree with Rammer, even if the younger ones are immediately up in arms trying to protest.

"Maybe I should leave," he murmurs, just barely loud enough to be heard above the rising din of clashing voices.

"Yes-"

"No!"

Multiple voices ring out at once, and Argost glances between the two parties, undecided.

"What else have our fathers hidden from us? Don't we deserve to know the truth?"

A clawed hand slams down on the table hard enough to rattle the glassware on it. "Here's your truth, boy," growls one of the eldest dragons. "This thing you call kin is nothing more than a weapon of war that should have died long ago. All you've brought home with you is a mistake that should never have been made. You should've left it buried in whatever dirt pile you found it in, instead of trying to pass it off as blood kin."

"But-"

There's no end to it, it seems. Argost slumps back in his seat, resigned to watching the constant back and forth. It's only when another voice cuts through the chaos that the others fall silent, all eyes on the lone dragon who hasn't said a word till now.

"Relic of war or not," begins the young dragon, his voice clear and steady, "doesn't he deserve a chance to have a family again?"

Not a warrior, this one. Compared to his brothers, he's smaller, less muscular, with a less commanding presence than his brethren. Yet they seem to respect him nonetheless, somewhat.

"Mero, you don't know what he's capable of, he's dangerous," protests Goldie, but the green-and-black dragon shakes his head, holding out one hand to forestall the warrior's protests.

"And I will take full responsibility for him staying here," finishes Mero, shooting Argost a warm smile. "I don't believe he wants to hurt us. He's been alone for years, and look at how you all are treating him."

Unhappy murmurs fill the room, but Mero stands firm and unyielding, as do his younger brothers. At long last, after much discontented grumbling amongst themselves, Deblor turns away to leave with a dismissive "do as you want", which signals the others to eventually start filing out as well.

Being home after so many years should feel more welcoming than living amongst the crumbled ruins of an old castle. It does not. Feels more like a prison of sorts, with how many new rules they've imposed on him during his stay here, no doubt hoping to drive him away of his own volition. Even so, at least his younger brothers are keen to have him stay, and spending time with them in groups (since he's apparently not allowed to be left alone with any one of them) is a new, but heartwarming experience.

Is it better than his old life? Argost can't say. The older ones either steer clear of him entirely or go out of their way to torment him when they can. Goldie in particular, unlike his younger siblings, seems to loathe his presence, and makes sure Argost knows it. He makes it a habit to pop in whenever Argost is simply minding his own business, either to sling insults at him or try to order him around. Keyword being "try", because while he doesn't mind keeping the peace here, he has no intentions of following around a proud, arrogant whelp like Goldie. Several times, they nearly come to blows over these arguments. The only thing holding Argost back from raising a hand against him is the fact that the others would undoubtedly use his aggression as a reason to banish him for good.

"I'm not going with you."

"What do you mean, 'no'? What I say, goes," hisses Goldie. They're in Argost's own room, with Goldie blocking the only way out with his own body. "Have you forgotten who I am?"

"No, because you just love reminding me," Argost snaps back, one fist clenching and unclenching at his side. Patience. It's not the first time Goldie's tried to pull this, and it won't be the last. All he has to do is shake him off. "I told you, I'm not going with you. If you want me on a mission, I'd rather do it myself."

"The old bag of bones thinks he can fly solo? Don't make me laugh," scoffs the golden-plated dragon.

A threatening rumble starts up in his throat, the first beginnings of a thunderstorm brewing in his chest - he can feel the rage crackling hot in his chest, long-suppressed frustration bubbling up the back of his tongue. Old? Argost could crush Goldie where he stands, could lunge at him from here and send him flying with a single swipe of his claws. Maybe he should, if it means teaching Goldie just what he's capable of. His claws flex, ever increasingly tempted by the idea of closing them around that frail throat and squeezing until his breath stutters out.

As quickly as the fantasy flits into his mind, he shoves it away, locks it up in the darker corners of his mind. He's trying to rile you up. Don't give him what he wants.

Goldie's lips peel back in a contemptuous sneer, head held proudly high - he's not even looking right at him, never has. For as long as Argost can remember, that's how Goldie's always looked at him - from above, looking down at him like he's nothing more than living refuse to be scraped off and discarded. "You will come with me, and you will obey my instructions, or I'll tell the others you're being uncooperative and have you booted from here." His eyes narrow, contemplating. "Maybe I should just do that. You've been nothing but trouble since you got here, anyway."

"You *******-"

"Enough!"

They halt, inches apart from another, hackles up and teeth bared, claws itching to tear into flesh. Mero pushes his way past Goldie to stand in between them both, trying to push them apart. Argost goes willingly, Goldie less so - it takes several good shoves from the smaller dragon to get him to back off several paces, still glaring at Argost.

"Enough," Mero repeats, steady and firm. "Goldie, this is not how a leader leads. Shouldn't you be clearing this with Kiur first, before issuing orders?"

"He's the one who isn't listening to me!" protests Goldie, jabbing a finger accusingly at Argost, who only stares back. "Even if Kiur said yes, what's the point if he's not going to listen to any of us?"

"How can you expect him to listen to you if you're not following the rules either?" Mero points out, and Goldie's ensuing scowl is all the satisfaction Argost allows himself to take from this encounter. "You should be setting a better example as a co-leader, and right now, I'm not seeing that." A glance over at Argost, before adding, "I'm sure Argost would be willing to work with you if you were nicer about it, wouldn't he?"

Frankly, he'd rather have nothing to do with Goldie if he can help it, but Mero's already saved him twice, now. "I suppose so," Argost huffs, not missing the way Mero's staring holes through him, pleading for his cooperation.

It's all Mero needs. "You see, Goldie?" he sighs, gently patting the golden dragon on the back. "There's no need for you two to keep butting heads like this. You just have to be a little more respectful of each other."

There's a faint, indiscernible mumble from under Goldie's breath that sounds an awful lot like cursing, but they both pointedly ignore it. With a disgruntled snort, he shakes Mero's hand off and turns on his heel to leave. As soon as he's gone, Mero exhales gustily, shoulders sagging. "I didn't think that would work. I'm sorry if he's been causing you trouble, Argost, he's just like that sometimes."

Trouble doesn't quite cover all the harassment Goldie's put him through in his time here, but he wisely opts not to mention it. "It's fine. Thank you for stepping in."

Mero's gaze softens. "It's the least I could do for my brother."

Brother. It's still strange to hear, even now. Deblor had cast him out, his own direct siblings had all but disowned him, and yet here Mero is, calling him brother so casually. It should make him happier, but all he can think of is how he's seen Deblor smile at Mero when they're talking, how he's never once felt the warmth of a father's love from the dragon who sired him. Do I mean nothing to you? screams his heart, but all it takes is a glance down at the countless scars littering his body to remember just how clear Deblor had been on the fact that he was no son of his.

Mero cocks his head, as if sensing Argost's internal turmoil. "Is something wrong, Argost? You look like you're... in pain, or something." He reaches a hand out, but Argost hastily waves him off, shaking his head to clear it of those brooding thoughts. It's not his fault, he reminds himself. Things have changed since then. He's been nothing but nice to you, he has nothing to do with the past.

Forcing a weak smile, Argost instead settles into the seat beside his bed. "It's nothing. Goldie's just tiring to deal with." Not entirely a lie, but not entirely the truth either.

Mero's laugh is a short, quiet huff. "I know. I just hope he'll come around in the future."

"...I hope so. But thank you for stepping in." There's more, the words crowding on the tip of his tongue, but out of old fear and pride Argost hesitates. "I also wanted... to thank you for standing up for me. You saw how the elders reacted, but you still fought for me to stay here."

"It wasn't right of them to abandon you like that," Mero replies, frowning. "You deserved better. You're still our brother, after all."

"Still, you didn't have to go that far," Argost insists, much to Mero's surprise. "I mean, you barely knew me then. You had no obligation to even bring me back, much less vouch for me to stay. So why... why would you do such a thing?"

Mero's smile is warm as the sun shining through the window on a lazy afternoon. "Isn't that what family's for?" he says, so simply and so easily that Argost is left stunned for words, still reeling hours after he's gone.

Those words come back to him ten years later, when they trudge home after a particularly gruelling mission, battered and bruised. As soon as the last one of them piles inside, Argost shuts the door and turns to Goldie, who's lowering himself into a chair with a barely-stifled grimace.

"Show me."

Goldie scowls at him, one arm held at an awkward angle. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Argost doesn't relent. "I saw you. You charged in and took that blow when it would've hit me instead. Now show me that arm."

After much unhappy grumbling, Goldie finally extends it, hissing out between his teeth at the movement. Once pristine burnished plating is now significantly dented, leaking black blood from beneath the scales. Painful, but at least not immediately life-threatening. Shaking his head, Argost goes to fetch the one of the many medical kits stored away, for times like these, all while the others see to their own wounds and unwind. Surprisingly, Goldie doesn't pull away when Argost returns and starts wrapping that arm up in a makeshift sling - the more thorough repairs will have to wait till the next morning. The most he does is grumble under his breath, but even then he stays still until Argost is done.

"There. You'd better get that seen tomorrow," he sighs, pulling back to wipe some sweat from his forehead. Goldie snorts, rising tiredly from the chair in favor of lumbering back to his room, but not before he mutters something that Argost can hardly believe.

"...thanks."

First shock, then disbelief, followed by a grudging warmth in his chest that's become more familiar, as of late. Argost huffs a short laugh, watching Goldie's retreating back as he leaves.

"...that's what family's for."









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