Creative Corner

It's Troubles idea, in the way where she wonders about something, with no real plan to follow up on it anytime soon, if ever. And then Redge - talks her into it anyway.

This time Redge does the stupid thing with her. Trouble might feel better about it with her companship if it wasn't - this.

Caesar is going to be - she can't even conceive of it.

"Redge, let's go back."

One of Redges ears flicks, she's heard. No protest is enough to make her reconsider.

Trouble - needs an adult. Caesar said as much the other day and oh how terribly apt! But Caesar is the only adult she knows and if he doesn't land in front of them to herd them the other direction now while everyone can still fall back on plausible deniability it might be better for them to simply return before he can find them missing.

Trouble halts and Redge marches on. She hates her and still can't justify letting her go alone.

So she catches up and promptly overtakes her.

A noise from Redge and then laughter as she speeds up. They make a race out of it.

"It won't be as bad as all that," Redge declares. With them standing on the precipe to the place Caesar doesn't go to it's unclear whether she means the place, or Caesars reaction should he ever find out. Probably he has a very good reason for avoiding this area. It certainly looks - interesting. And Caesar always has reasons for what he does, likes to narrate as he goes and then ask questions about it like a game before explaining. But they haven't asked him.

"Why haven't we just asked him?"

A swish of a tail. "Caesar doesn't even allows us to come with him on the real gathering trips and you think he'd take us to the place he doesn't go to?"

Well, no, but. "We don't know why he avoids - this." Trouble sits on her haunches to gesture with both front paws.

"We're going to find out."

They don't. The next moment something swoops down on them. Trouble presses herself flat to the ground, and all the harder, fur on end, when she consciously recognizes Caesar.

After only a few words Redge cuts off. Perhaps the wisest thing Trouble has ever witnessed of her. He shakes with anger.

Imperials are, or at least Caesar is tall, long, heavy. One of the three biggest dragon breeds. In comparison Tundra, Redge and Trouble, even if they made four times their current wingspan fully-grown, and they would never, they are not yet fully-grown, just. Don't compare.

Caesar towers over them.

A flash of memory, clear with terror, of that maw around her.

If he shouts she'll burst into tears.

His words are enunciated carefully.

Redge answers as meek as she's ever been.

Still speaking - dangerously softly, he explains. About the rest of their Clan. About machines, technology. About the Flights usual traditions and beliefs and how noone - none of them - came to help. About danger and contamination, about tombs and places best left to rest.

Trouble would promise Caesar anything just so he's not mad at her. But truth be told, except for hostile dragons, it all sounds terribly interesting.

He sees no need to ask. His tales certainly scared Redge straight.

She gets in one last good long look in before they leave.

---

The hatchlings are adults now, so I suppose it's Coli time. Someone wish me luck? Maybe rec me a nuzlocke appropriate build?

Caesar, Redge has noticed, is indecisive. Loves to talk and noncommittal about all but the most obvious of facts. Desperate to leave but hestiant to go.

On the other hand Trouble knows what she wants well enough, tending to get rolled around because of other peoples expectations and varying levels of approval.

Though annoying at times to witness, Redge doesn't dislike either of it. She tells herself this when Caesar once again delays their departure from the barren area around tomb and machinesite for greener pastures. As a turn of phrase. Because they are still at that selfsame campsite and so she hasn't yet seen much of anywhere, verified for herself how the rest of the clanlands look much the same. Or the whole of the realm, for that matter. Trouble particularly perks up at the prospect, but does she dare to speak up? No, Redge has to fight the argument for both of them.

"It's a matter of time," Trouble tries to excuse.

"How do you figure?"

"Can't feed us on this stretch of land for much longer, not with how he doesn't want to go too far and leave us alone for long."

Redge thinks back, and yeah, okay. She thought he trusts them more now, leaving for longer and even considering taking them on real trips lately when she asks, but that makes more sense. Wanting to hit something, and with Trouble the only satisfying thing around, they descend into play-fighting.

After a bit they roll into a rock, seperating in a daze. Another tie. Fighting Caesar does not make for fun on the grounds of irreconcilable size difference.

Speaking of, a chuckle from a little away. Redge shakes her head to clear it, looks around and there he lies. "How do you sneak up on us with that much weight?" And his colors and clothing, too, doesn't exactly make for stealth.

He hums, fans his wings out more, like he's sunning himself. So far she has seen both the storm and the cloudcover (different things entirely) break for minutes at a time. Neither does so now.

"Any reason you're so smug?" she demands. Next to her Trouble cringes.

"A matter of practice, and evidently you're not getting enough."

"And whose fault is that?"

"Yes," he sighs. "I will have to get into fights for food soon. I'm gonna bring you back something small to practice on."

Trouble fluffs up in delight, but Redge only feels alarm. "What do you mean, fights?! And you, plan to go alone, really?"

She does not get her way then, either.

Perhaps not his best idea, Caesar thinks. He's got food for the next two days, he's pretty sure, and even the promised live prey for the hatchlings, but he also acquired damage he's got no sure way to treat, so. Could have gone better.

And then he gets back to camp where the hatchlings await. Just as he lands the strangler squirms free, sending Trouble running to hunt it down. Redge refuses to be so easily distracted and takes her time to notice ever minute hurt, steadily going from desolate and unhappy about the entire affair to real anxious with a sideheaping of worry. Not what Caesar wants to inspire in his charges.

She stays silent, though, and he considers that perhaps the worst part. She was silent after he explained about the Demise, too.

The rest of his spoils he dumbs at her feet, and she grimaces before setting about putting it away. A much needed breather. Too much fighting for his life during the excursion to really think things over in private like he wanted.

Little has more impact on a life than the way someone is raised. This is a truth, self-evident. And Caesar is raising them to eschew all that makes them lightning dragons. Because - he's afraid. Because that's what the clan would have wanted? Because it's easier. Because he's ignorant.

He's young. So very young. Not even yet of age to make eggs of his own. Hadn't yet considered the kind of apprentice- or internships he might like. What kind of professions he would have wanted to try. No knowledge to feel confident about, he wasn't yet taught much.

But the three of them are intelligent. If they tried, they could figure it out. Only, he already assured they wouldn't try, and on the basis of what? He hardly knows enough to make such decisions.

Once again Caesar wishes he could talk to someone about this. About all of everything. The fighting and the food and the small everday issues of life as well as such, edicts, almost. The direction for the clan to move into, the kind of stuff the elders and maybe a few of the younger most respected members of the clan hash out between themselves before the rest of them ever even learn about the discussion, if they do at all.

A sound of dismay has him raise his head. Their provisions are still accounted for, what? He follows her line of sight. "Oh."

Redge and he watch Trouble - yeah, no nice way to say it - torture the strangler. And not the way a hatchling usually might, batting it around and playing, nevermind how the toy still hangs onto life, having done that she's moved on to with an intense expression methodically rip it apart.

"Tell her to stop," Redge says. Caesar goes and does so.

Just leaves him with the half-dead wildlife. When he considers eating it Redge takes it off his paws. Trouble watches on a little enviously, he knows he should have gotten them one each, but shrugs it off soon enough.

Nursing it distracts Redge the way murdering it did Trouble, but occupies a lot more time. Though it hardly poses a threat now Caesar hovers until it seems to have accepted its new owner. Then Trouble trips him up, both literally and with conversation.

"You wouldn't have to worry about us so much if we knew to fight," she says.

"Ye-es?" he says.

"If Redge talks me into a fight and we both die I'll haunt you, and if you go off alone and die I'll also haunt you, cos we'll be quick to follow."

We-ll. If he's there he can watch the hatchlings backs, and though he hates the thought of dragging them down, they his. Makes sense, checks out, whatever. But perhaps what makes him think the most is that Trouble argued with him on such a serious uncompfortable matter, rather than letting Redge do it for her or following his lead.

The next time, he takes them. Nothing for it and all. Just a short burst of fights, very small-time opponents. They leave well before either hatchling would admit to exhaustion. Weirdly into this fighting thing even now they've experienced it for themselves. Still, that they don't argue with his call speaks for itself in any case.

He figures they'll all train a bit more that way, and once everyone can, if not hold their own, then tell when they're outgunned and flee with grace accordingly, they'll set out, get away from this place. Maybe move in a circuit around it? They'll need to cover enough distance to keep everyone feed while also not crossing over the border and out of their lands. Joy.

And a problem for some later time. Maybe he'll talk it over with the hatchlings. They are old enough now to give sensible valuable input, he'll have to start listening eventually. Surely that's what good leaders do?

---

Notes:
If one manages to reach ones daily writing goals one should then not forget to actually post. Gonna have to keep on top of that game.
Not sure how I feel about what I managed to produce, though. Lots of inner monologue, much less action or talk.
On another note, the hatchlings can now breed, game wise. The festival should hurry up so I can grind for levels and the stuff to gene at least one of them.

So it turns out Caesar's uneasy with fighting in general. Even though he's also still overly protective, Redge feels better, if not quite vindicated, knowing not all of it comes from lack of trust in them and their capabilities.

Not that their capabilities are... what they could be.

"It makes sense," Trouble points out, somewhere between timid and ticked off. Redge cuddles Strangler harder. Powered now primarily by spite Trouble continues, "What works for an Imperial has no reason to work for a Tundra."

"I wasn't ever taught either," Caesar protests from where he lounges above them. Redge hasn't noticed his arrival and neither had Trouble with the way four sets of claws scrape against the ground. His long neck curves till he looks at both of them. "You just do what comes natural to you."

After a moment Trouble climbs up and flops all over him, which works exactly as intended. Redge pretends it doesn't, much to her pets resignation and Caesars bemused expression.

"Nothing much comes natural," Redge says. Because it's true. She likes fighting, she thinks, and wouldn't ever, ever be doing it if she wasn't so concerned for Caesar. So that's a thing. A mental thing. Can't say the same for the actual fighting. Which... before she can chase the thought down, Trouble comes back into view.

"There are different ways of fighting," she says.

"Already established as much a minute ago?"

"No, I mean." She puts a paw on Caesar and shoves. He rocks a tiny little bit, possibly just to appease her. Lifts his head to give her a look, so no not likely.

"There are different ways of fighting. Groundbound or aerial, physical or... Ah." Everthing about him flops back down.

"What?!" Redge sits up. Strangler takes the opportunity to slip from her grasp, but it's cool, it doesn't wander far.

"Or magical."

Redge and Trouble look at each other. That's certainly a thing. Not a thing Caesar might be able to really help them figure out, but a thing. A natural thing. They might be able to figure out themselves? Trouble appears as intruged as she does doubtful, so that's effectively outsourced and not Redges problem anymore.

Yeah, who is she kidding.

Third day of travel. They had to leave a lot of stuff behind. He knows the logic behind it, and it's sound, the hatchlings hadn't argued, but. Together with everything he had ever known, those last tenious trinkets of stability...

Caesar feels unmoored. The hatchlings are with him, running along before him at the moment, and he clings to their presence, but. When he had thought about excursions Before, he had imagined them differently. Experienced members of the clan would be leading them, him and some of his agemates. To go trading or the like, probably. And of course at the end of it all they'd return home.

And the hatchlings aren't even, well. They've grown as much as they ever would, it appears, practically adults by most measures that matter. They've certainly gotten over trusting him blindly, or even considering him the authorithy on all matters. Doesn't lessen the responsibility any. Point is, he's painfully aware they're... not a product of the Clan, as such.

A shout sounds from in front. He sighs. Another, less startled and more 'oh ****' has him lurch forward posthaste. The hatchlings stumbled into a populated area. Hostile wild- and plantlife, most he fails to recognize, but none appear strong enough to take down a healthy dragon in any case. Or at least these two are holding their own. Can't argue with the decision to let them (learn how to) fight now. One last moment to assess and he throws himself into the fray.

"We gonna get rid of all of them, or?" Redge asks sensibly when their attackers fall a little back to regroup.

Caesar looks around, and. "Let's do that, and then we can rest here for the night."

"Cos we'll have gotten rid of all the dangerous stuff in the area!" Trouble says. At his nod she lunges for the closest enemy.

Some more minutes of fighting and even with the hatchlings having it well enough in hand he stresses himself out, cos he's gotta pay attention to three seperate battles, at the very least so he doesn't step on the hatchlings. Most dragons are just tiny! It's horrible.

His mane stands on end and he shakes his head, useless ******* elemental attacks, why do they bother, except. He bats a bird out of the air. That's Trouble breathing a ball of lightning into the ground and thus taking out three hostiles at once when a fourth takes advantage of the massive ******* distraction that's figuring out magic in the midst of real combat, getting one of her hindlegs. She cries out, distracting Redge. Caesar snarls with enough ferocity for their attackers to suffer a moments hestiation. Scooping up a hatchling with each frontpaw, he wings it.

While one goes limp, the other squirms in his grasp. He presses both to his chest and againt each other and hurries. Back the way they came, a little ways. Nothing inclined to hurt them there before, should be fine. Far from ideal, maybe, but fine.

"Didn't take any of our loot!" Trouble calls.

Redge simply says, "Priorities," and he hears, because he's not going far or high enough for the wind to roar or snatch her voice away.

"Sorry for wanting to eat, I guess?"

"You are injured??"

"Uh, I mean, it doesn't hurt?"

Every single one of his mental alarm bells ringing, he turns into a dive. One of the hatchlings hiccups.

Trouble turns out fine. Her fur caught the brunt of it, the attack barely touched the skin and muscle underneath, nothing more than they got when they trained before.

"So are we going back to get our stuff?" she asks, more timid now the adrenaline worns off.

"Yeah, I don't think so," Redge says, though she looks at him for barely needed confirmation. "You need to rest anyway, if only to think on your lack of self-preservation. What were you even doing?" Rich coming from the dragon who edged her on to the point of jumping out of the nest hours after hatching.

Valid, though. Trouble's already breathing in like she's practicing magic some more. Which. How to postpone that disaster?

---

Notes:
Caesar and Trouble got their Eliminates and all three gained their first Ambush.
I need to decide how to gene the girls.

In lieu of magic, Caesar introduces Trouble to alchemy. Which, both easier and more troublesome than it should reasonably be.

Having left the lairs sphere of influence for sure a few days ago the countryside practically teems with things. You know, for a desert. In comparison. Plantstuff and Caesar food and random trash and bones and pieces.

Trouble understands why dragons like to have lairs now. Gotta have a place to stash all your freaking stuff. Like, they hardly even took anything from their original campsite, it makes sense, she agreed. But also she kind of needs all of it? And they can't bring it with them, Caesar refuses to carry anything.

"Dependency on all this stuff is what brought down the Demise," he says.

Very carefully Trouble doesn't say that she wouldn't know, would she?

Redge has less of a stake in things, no help from that quarter. Like, she still takes some of their finds, but never more than she herself can carry, and in any case after a few days when the novelity of any one thing wears off she goes and - throws it away. (Privately Trouble figures that's how the countryside came to be like this in the first place.) Only the strangler goes unconsidered for removal so far. Redge's attachment to the thing is totally unhealthy. To all their defeated foes. She winces every time another one gets diced and thrown in the pot.

Speaking of, Trouble considers her latest brew. Melting down ingredients makes for easy work, can't really go wrong with it. But then using those ingredients to make something distinct, of worth?

Yeah, no, leagues more difficult than she thought it would be. Mostly a matter of luck, too, it appears. In that so far she hasn't had any. If she knew just a working recipe or two she might be able to work out some logic to it, or the obvious blatant thing she must be missing, but of course Caesar is useless in that regard, so no dice.

On the other paw, if she manages to figure it all out for herself, well that will certainly be much more of an achivement and proportionally satisfying.

"You know he's using this to occupy you, right?" Redge asks her once Caesar's taken to the air.

Trouble as well checks again she can see him and how he's well out of earshot before taking up that line of conversation. "Well, yeah, I suppose. So?"

"You're not upset about it," Redge comments with what Trouble figures she means to look shrewd.

"I'm not actually that contrary as long as noone's goading me into things." Trouble hopes.

Redge hums, dubious. "It will be useful, should you ever actually figure it out," she allows.

"Well, I will!" Redge grins and. "Oh, screw you. Go make friends with some more critters or something. Not like you're doing much of anything to support the clan."

Shrugging this accusation off with enviable ease, Redge proceeds to speculate on the kind of companion pet Caesar might enjoy.

---

Notes:
Pinkerton gave me ambush two days in a row, so Trouble and Caesar are now completely stoned.
A Hydra gave me my first super close brush with party k.o. but Redge prevailed on the tiniest sliver of hp so I'm rather done with Coli for the day.

Life settles into a routine.

Oh, the horizon changes marginally as they traverse the uniform landscape, near or put distance between them and particular mesa. And as they become more proficient they dare take on different and more capable opponents when a fight presents itself or they seek one out because they have need of some specific supply or other.

But Trouble and her reached their full growth a bit ago, everyone's pretty sure by now, and Caesar has imparted to them all the general knowledge he was taught himself.

So they travel, foraging or fighting or scavening as they go. They set up camps, hole up just at the entrances to natural caves or long, long abadoned lairs, or occassionally simply bed down under the bare storm for a night. They play or talk, but with just three people things can become repititive fast, the same topics making them play out the same discussions again and again, to the point even Redge finds herself sick of their faces sometimes.

Even with two people (and Strangler) around rather constantly, she might just be feeling lonely at times.

Still, life goes on.

And then adulthood hits Redge like a lightningstrike.

Or maybe it starts small, in the way she described, in that she looks around and finds her clan too few. No way anyone will come, stumble upon them out here, to join them, and they don't have whatever might be needed to go out looking for members.

The point is. Redge looks up one day and notes that Caesar is really pretty, all shiny and stuff.

An objective observation, surely. Trouble commented on as much before, when they were hatchlings.

Honestly, she doesn't know who she's trying to fool. Able to identify her own emotions just fine, she only considers denial for a moment. The romance books on which she learned to read has her know better. And it's not really even that she's in love with him, but that he's the only male dragon she knows, so she hasn't got the option to ask anyone else to father her eggs. Since, if she had, she might not see the need to have any, not so young.

But she hasn't and she does, and, "Why couldn't you be a boy?"

Trouble turns a look on her, glances about like she can locate some explanation for this newest hazing and finally stares up into the sky with a contemplative expression.

The conversation that descents is interesting but not enlightning and far from helpful. Privately Redge resolves that even if Trouble were male (or had the biological equipment for it, as it might not be the same thing), she wouldn't mar her line with hers. Nothing against her, but they're like sisters, really.

The presence of Trouble the dragoness begs another question in any case. "Do you want to have eggs?"

"Uh." Again she looks around, for Caesar sneaking up on them the way he does, and in the process rescue her. "I. Hadn't. Thought about it? Before this moment." She gestures with a slime-smeared paw. "What even brought this on?!"

How much to reveal? Better keep it noncommital for now, Redge decides. "Just thinking about how that's, a thing."

"A thing," Trouble repeats with no small amount of disbelief. "A thing. You - wait. Is that why you were asking about my gender?! I wouldn't have children with you if you paid me (with knowledge)!"

Redge rears back in fake offence. "My best friend, and you wouldn't even raise a couple kids with me?"

She immediately feels bad when Trouble actually hestiates. Not enough to diffuse the situation, mind you, one needs to know where one stands with people on such important matters, but a little bad, because evidently the answer is Trouble totally would.

Honestly, it would be most ideal if the clan could just (collectively) find some dragon eggs and then (collectively) raise them, but what are the chances of that?

"Redge wants eggs," Trouble tells Caesar later, unprepared for the way he rears back, smacks into the wall and overturns all their supplies. She stares at him.

He stares at her.

Outside, Redge abadons Strangler to come running, breaking hard before actually entering their latest cave-camp and calling anxiously instead.

"There's no enemies inside! I just, uh, tripped! We're fine!" Caesar shouts back, voice too high, unsteady, to have anyone believe the latter two statements.

Now seriously consternated, Trouble stares at him.

After a weighty pause Redge washes her hands off the conversation by walking off again.

Caesar listens and waits for her to leave, then shakes and settles himself before considering the mess he made. Straining for time, Trouble suspects.

The coin of treasure drops slowly. She blames it on how her thoughts were going in a completely seperate - sensible - direction, "What's wrong with you." His gaze pins her even through his headcoverings and the ambivient gloom. "I was going to ask whether Alchemy might feasible help us out there! Why would- What- You?!"

"You can't create a dragon out of nothing," he says with a patronizing tone she's never heard from him before.

Indeed, she only ever hears it from Redge, and so reasonable noone should be surprised when she reflexively retorts, "Watch me," but of course they both are.

His turn to stare in consternation. Still, she's not going to take it back. Before he can turn sympathic, or worse, she turns, and with a swish of her tail bounds out of the cave.

So there is such a thing as the hatchlings growing up too fast after all. Caesar is starting to sound like the Clans elders, if they had ever appeared half as out of his depth as he feels.

So, eggs. He can kind of see where Redge is coming from, their social lives leave something to be desired. Right now he's too busy and uncertain and worried to think such a good idea, even if Trouble managed to whip something up in her cauldron. But also they'll have to add to the Clan eventually.

Not now, though. And with that resolution he shuts all related thoughts away and speaks of it no more. Neither do the hatchlings (that he knows), thank Stormcatcher. Like, he suspects Trouble actually attempts to brew up some abomination, but obviously there's no way that could work. None whatsoever.

"Are you okay?" Redge asks.

"Maybe suggesting alchemy to Trouble wasn't a good idea."

"She's trying to make an egg," Redge agrees.

Going to talk about it after all. "Yes, because you mentioned to her you wanted some."

"It's..." She takes a paw and gestures around them at the desert.

"You're lonely," he says. Feels like a personal failure. Trouble's constantly bored, too, though doubtful how more people would help her. Still, "Having children to alleviate that sounds far from a good idea."

After some seconds realization hits and she cringes. Immediately she disregards his point and not so much blusters as argues, "Isn't wanting children enough of a reason to have them?"

On the hand hand his opinion doesn't matter, since he can't (and wouldn't) stop anyone, but on the other hand he's the only guy he knows. A fact he's painfully aware of. "We don't have the means to secure and support any at this point in time," he says, because it's true.

For the moment reason triumphs and she deflates.

The conversation turns to general logistics instead, till she says she wants to have another look round the countryside and walks out of the camp. Caesar watches her go.

When Trouble's cauldron hisses dangerously he shuffles this problem back into a mental box to deal with a lot later and turns to matters of the present.

That bird looks very awkward, Redge thinks and hunkers down to watch. Instead of being a ball with wings and maybe legs sticking out of it, this bird appears to have a whole distinct body one will be able to see even when it has its wings all curled around itself. A little like a dragon in that regard. Except surely it's too feathery and tiny to be a dragon? She finds herself only half-sure it hasn't got any arms. And all dragon species have arms. Right?

Nor does it posses a tail. A couple feathers give the illusion of one, sure, but if anything it's a birds tail, not a dragons.

But its appearence fits no kind of bird or animal she has seen before, nor does the blatant lack of beak inspire much confidence in its probable general bird-ness.

Redge regrets going to explore the camps surroundings. She regrets, too, snubbing Troubles offer of companship, and indeed the last couple days stand-offishness. But only, you understand, because someone to get to do the dangerous dumb thing for her is always preferable and as things stand they won't come looking for her for a while yet.

Another feathered flying thing joins the first. As if on some signal a whole - flock of them come into sight from over the mesa. They flutter around each other before falling into something more orderly and... setting out to skim the area.

Scavengers or... a hunting party.

She really wishes she had someone at her back right now, painfully aware that for some reason she's the weakest of three. And those, those must be harpies. Beastclan.

As such, even if Redge could get away without being noticed, she can't. Not without first learning what they're doing and why. How many there are, what places they've laid claim to, all the information needed to know to fight or avoid them, if they can't.

One breaks formation to swoop down, hovering for just a moment before alighting on a rock with a cry. Those closest circle around with shouts of their own, which, if she reads the cause and effect of the social group right, prompts some further away to break off and head back to the mesa. Outpost that way? Or reinforcements.

More go to ground where that first one did, while all the rest go on casing the valley with additional urgency. A few near her not-that-covered position, which just won't do, excuse enough to flee. But also, the enemy found something interesting. On her clan lands.

---

Notes:
Action starts here, I suppose.
Keeping the notes spoiler free is a pain.