Dragon Share

Claim post

The four dragons who were able to deal with the mimics are very different, some even conflicting with each other, but they all have one goal: Prevent "a very bad thing" from happening. First, Grid: The Seer [url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=49222087] [img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/492221/49222087_350.png[/img] [/url] Grid is not actually a prophet. Using her surroundings and a mysterious algorithm called "the anticipation engine", she is able to deduce every possible outcome and what is needed to cause or prevent such outcomes. Her personal agenda is to make sure she and the rest of "her family" (as a bot she technically does not have one) do not share the same fate. Next, Bramble: The Bizerker [url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=47551979] [img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/475520/47551979_350.png[/img] [/url] Bramble is a fierce fighter who has had tangles and squabbles with almost every dragon she is helping. She loves a fight and thrives in battle. She is smart enough to know when to fight and when not to...to an extent and is completely helpless against most raw magic. Her personal agenda is to kill such an enemy since if it were stronger, it would not be good. Bramble doesnt care if her throat was slit in battle, but does not wish to die without her trident and battlecry. Third, Amarr: The sorceress [url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=48758799] [img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/487588/48758799_350.png[/img] [/url] Amarr is a very powerful sorceress. She has learned all known forms of magic except Nature. She is apathetic and cold to everyone except Mortis, her mate. Her personal agenda is to protect her clan so she does not Lose Mortis's soul to the mimics. He was almost shade touched, leading Amarr to become protective of him. Lastly, Rafflesia: The survivor [url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=52845690] [img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/528457/52845690_350.png[/img] [/url] Ever since her "bath" in the wyrmwound, Rafflesia has had an affinity for death. This first came with plauge magic, then necromancy. Later on, the mimics, emperors, and spirits. Her personal agenda is to understand the Mimics, why they want Nocturnes, Why they do what they do, and why they behave the way they do.

[center][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=44013073] [img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/portraits/440131/44013073.png[/img] [color=transparent]XXXX[/color][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=49626763][img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/portraits/496268/49626763.png[/img][/url] [b]The Elder[/b] [color=transparent]XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX[/color][b]The Healer[/b][/center]

claim post
holy cow this is awesome :0

Claim post! Gotta get a typing~! [center][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=10587364][img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/portraits/105874/10587364.png[/img][/url][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=11523814][img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/portraits/115239/11523814.png[/img][/url] [b]The Adventurer | The Healer[/b] [url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=43981185][img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/portraits/439812/43981185.png[/img][/url][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=51036393][img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/portraits/510364/51036393.png[/img][/url] [b]The Knight | The Entertainer[/b][/center] ----- Gonna get this typed up when my computer stops updating (yay mobile hating me). At least I got the images up!

CLAIM for later kinda quirky

[columns] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=36267877] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/362679/36267877p.png[/img] [/url] [b]Flower[/b][nextcol][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=40173419] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/401735/40173419p.png[/img] [/url] [b]Auria[/b] [nextcol][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=47905367] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/479054/47905367p.png[/img] [/url] [b]Viorel[/b] [nextcol][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=33049274] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/330493/33049274p.png[/img] [/url] [b]Galaix[/b][/columns] [center]---[/center] [i]"Flamecaller burn it all!"[/i] Flower cried, sprinting out of the cave. The Ridgeback's tailcoat almost seemed to have a mind of its own as she took a sharp turn, passing the nocturne in front of her. Auria, the dragon they were rescuing, was running as fast as he could, but running was not his strong suit. Galaix, the muscle of the group, gave a loud growl and picked him up, ending with a large yelp from the mage. Viorel, the strange, almost demonic hatchling was calmly flying next to her. [i]"What was even the point of rescuing him?"[/i] The hatchling sighed, and Flower shot him a look. [i]"You know the reason just as good as the rest of us. If you didn't feel like coming, why did you?"[/i] [i]"I was bored."[/i] Viorel shrugged, looking away. Every dragon there knew the truth. Auria meant a lot to Viorel, after all they both had powers that were hard to explain, and Auria was like a big brother to him. Another crash came from the hallway. The toothy chests kept transforming. Hatchlings, Nocturnes, Crying familiars. Galaix passed Flower, dropping Auria and picking up two crying hatchlings in front of them. Auria tripped over himself, tripping up Flower and Viorel, all three of them tumbling out of the lair following Galaix. The guardian was the first to take flight, struggling with the weight of the hatchlings as they landed in the meadow, the nocturne Flower had passed following them, almost melting into the night. As all seven dragons took a stand, the two hatchlings crawled off the large guardian and wobbled over to the Nocturne. Viorel suddenly stood back, his spines raising as he walked backwards. [i]"Get back get back GET BACK!"[/i] He hissed, Flower and Galaix turning to him, never previously seeing him like this, Auria held a claw out, eyes wide as well, circuits flickering, as the hatchlings twisted, their true colors showing as the nocturne was taken by surprise. A dark blue nocturne came flying down at colorful speeds, but it was too late. The Nocturne disappeared, and Auria called out as the two nocturnes came crashing down as well, their voices crashing over like waves. [i]“SHADOWSONG!”[/i] The two dragons came crashing down into each other, both claws crashing over each other, scratching and crashing. The older one seemed to get the worst of it, spinning out of control and hitting the ground hard, head over tail. Something seemed to shatter. Auria instantly ran over to her, his eyes glowing as he grabbed a tome to start reading healing spells Clover taught him. The other dragon hit the ground, braking hard, legs struggling out from under him. Flower watched as his body skidded to a halt, head bowing down, then up. He struggled, and Flower couldn't take it anymore. As the dragon started to walk, and stumbled, Flowers wings took over, instinct from her own children. She grasped his claws in her own, and helped him stand up. [center]---[/center] Flower looked down at the light blue dragon, her white eyes almost glowing in the dark light. The nocturne looked at her, fear in his eyes. [i]“My sister?”[/i] The young dragon choked out, trying to peer around the larger dragon. [i]“Your sister’s the blue one? Yes, she’s alive,”[/i] Flower responded, looking back at the dragons surrounding the older dragon. To her horror, Viorel was violently poking the dragon, Auria shaking his head in disappointment, a soft glow pulsing through his maize colored circuits. Flower turned her attention back to the young dragon. [i]“Thankfully, those two dragons there managed to rescue our healer’s apprentice. You’re next.”[/i] She took a breath. Auria wasn't technically Clover's apprentice, but it was one of his jobs, and the easiest way to explain it. How else were you supposed to tell a hatchling that this skydancer was born when the earth shook, when dragons eyes started to change, and the ancient ones came back? She took a breath and recollected her thoughts, turning her attention back to the young nocturne [i]“I know what you are, I know the one who was taken. But I don’t recognize that voice.”[/i] [i]“We do,”[/i] The injured dragon muttered. [i]“And we know how to find her.”[/i] Flower turned quickly, and Galaix stepped forward protectively, a claw on his blade. The blue nocturne continued. [i]“We’re still apprentices. We were supposed to learn the last of our craft this night. With Shadowsong gone, we don’t have the spells...we can’t protect you...”[/i] Galaix scoffed, but his expression was somber. [i]“We’re on our own.”[/i] [i]“As soon as we’re healed, we have to go,”[/i] The male said, confidence slowly growing in his voice. [i]“If we don’t rescue Shadowsong before this long night ends, she’ll be Thana’s forever.”[/i] [center]---[/center] [b]Authors Note: Alright! I hope y'all liked that. I stopped where the story ended, opting to start before. Flower isn't technically an elder, and as I wrote earlier, Auria isn't technically a healers apprentice, but I opted to use this seeing as they fit the story best. If you've got any questions, feel free to message me![/b]

Using some fandragons, and tweaked the prompt post a bit to fit their lack of understanding about Singers and Mimics, but c'mon, it's a rescue. I couldn't resist (kudos if you recognise the characters!) [i]All images except Scott are scries because none of the other dragons are finished yet[/i] ------ ------ The dragons, alongside snippets from their personal lore as an intro: [center][font=Times New Roman][size=4][b]The eldest:[/b] Scott[/size][/font] [url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=57591693] [img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/575917/57591693_350.png[/img] [/url] [font=Times New Roman][size=4][i]Being the eldest of five wilful brothers is a challenge, but it's one Scott has risen to magnificently, especially after the loss of first their mother and later their father left him to look after his four younger brothers. It's a responsibility he takes very seriously - too seriously, his brothers will occasionally complain, having bestowed upon him the nickname "Smother Hen" for when he's being particularly overprotective.[/i][/size][/font][/center] ----- [center][font=Times New Roman][size=4][b]The 'healer':[/b] John[/font][/size] [i][size=2](not actually a healer, but he and Scott know the basics; their actual healer brother is absent [s]I don't have the dragon yet[/s])[/size][/i] [url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=56704519] [img]https://www1.flightrising.com/dgen/preview/dragon?age=1&body=28&bodygene=24&breed=13&element=5&eyetype=11&gender=0&tert=84&tertgene=1&winggene=25&wings=84&auth=5a889737fc7ad90209d108d991cf22b337a7f393&dummyext=prev.png[/img] [/url] [font=Times New Roman][size=4][i]John hates three things: gravity, crowds and senseless cruelty. Living up in a satellite thousands of miles above the surface of the planet, well out of reach of all three, it usually takes a lot of convincing from his brothers to get him to join them in their family home, situated on an island in the middle of nowhere, but unfortunately afflicted with a condition called gravity. Still, as much as John hates the force and how it makes his mind and body sluggish, he loves his brothers more and so does occasionally make the effort to come down from orbit.[/i][/size][/font][/center] ----- [center][font=Times New Roman][size=4][b]The scout:[/b] One[/font][/size] [url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=57335149] [img]https://www1.flightrising.com/dgen/preview/dragon?age=1&body=5&bodygene=17&breed=7&element=4&eyetype=7&gender=1&tert=2&tertgene=14&winggene=17&wings=23&auth=4572f22726d06be2372a3f2a4e27fcb8d0bf2016&dummyext=prev.png[/img] [/url] [font=Times New Roman][size=4][i]While she has many attributes, the one Thunderbird One is best known for is her speed. It's little wonder; the purpose of her creation was to be fast - first to react, first to arrive. Right from completion - the first of her sisters to be completed - it's been a constant characterisation of this high-speed jet.[/i][/size][/font][/center] ------ [center][font=Times New Roman][size=4][b]The information gatherer:[/b] Five[/size][/font] [url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=51668904] [img]https://www1.flightrising.com/dgen/preview/dragon?age=1&body=140&bodygene=17&breed=14&element=8&eyetype=7&gender=1&tert=74&tertgene=14&winggene=17&wings=131&auth=c8b60257dd70c0ceb3895d5879cb92eb02d41ab5&dummyext=prev.png[/img][/url] [font=Times New Roman][size=4][i]Theoretically, Thunderbird Five should be lonely. Docked in space - a permanent geostationary orbit thousands of miles above her sisters, where only one of the other Thunderbirds can ever reach her (Three does reach her. Often.) - there are few who would be able to stomach such solitude.[/i][/size][/font][/center] ------ ------ They’d only stopped to rest on the way home, perching on the edge of the Focal Point. It had been less of a rescue mission and more of a bonding session, in all honesty, with Scott going with John and their Thunderbirds to deal with a small earth tremor in the Ashfall Waste. By the time they’d got there, the worst was already over and no-one was left in danger. Clearly, the denizens of the area were used to trouble of that nature. It was luck that they’d stopped just outside the cave that needed them - sudden cries for help interrupted Scott and John’s conversation and neither brother, nor their ‘birds, needed any more incentive to hurry inside. Two hatchlings, days old at best, clung to the tattered remains of their nest as it tipped precariously from the ledge it was constructed on. Not old enough to fly, if the nest pitched over with the hatchlings still inside, neither would survive. Scott reached them just in time, One hovering alongside him as he plucked the pair from the nest just before it collapsed. Whimpering, they clambered onto his shoulders where they clung tightly enough to hurt - even with hatchling claws. “It’s okay,” he told them as he glided back down to the cave floor, John and Five joining him. “Now, where are your parents, hmm?” They grizzled at him, clearly not yet old enough to speak, and he shared a fond look with John before heading for the cave entrance. Five noticed the tremors first, nudging Scott and John forwards as the rear of the cave began to shake - no doubt another section of land was on the cusp of being torn upwards, as was common in the Starfall Isles. Conscious of the two hatchlings on his shoulder, Scott charged for the exit, trusting John and the ‘birds to follow. They were greeted by a nocturne dragon as they emerged, a large dark female who landed in front of them. The mother, Scott presumed, a theory supported by the hatchlings on his shoulder detaching themselves instantly and scurrying forwards to stop in front of her, looking for all the world like adoring children. It was a sight he’d never get tired of, families reuniting safely, and he made to turn away and look for his brother when a terrified scream blasted through the air. “NO!” A young blue nocturne hurtled towards the reunited family, followed immediately by a black one. “SHADOWSONG!” Both seemed determined, and Scott turned back around just in time to see the hatchlings that had been perched on his shoulders morph, twist and change into shadow monsters, smothering the female as she attempted to retreat. Before he could start to react to the bizarre sight, the nocturne and the shadow creatures were gone, and the diving youngsters were crashing into the ground. [center][i]She’s mine now, my little ones.[/i][/center] The voice, coming from nowhere, startled Scott long enough to miss catching either dragon as they collided painfully with the ground. What was that? Where had it come from? A scan around the area showed no other dragons, and Five also appeared to be coming up blank with her own searches. John had hurried to the side of the blue dragon, who didn’t appear to be moving after her collision. He looked around for the other and leapt forwards, catching hold of the black one as he tried to stand up with a groan. “My sister..?” the dragon rasped, wincing in pain as he tried to look around. “Your sister’s the blue one? Yes, she’s alive,” Scott reassured him, giving him a brief once over and determining that he was good to move. “What happened? The hatchlings- that dragon just vanished, and that voice wasn’t normal, either.” “We have to find her.” The blue dragon was already looking better as John patched her up. “We’re still apprentices. We were supposed to learn the last of our craft this night. With Shadowsong gone, we don’t have the spells… we can’t protect you…” “As soon as we’re healed, we have to go,” the black one added. “If we don’t rescue Shadowsong before this long night ends, she’ll be Thana’s forever.” Scott didn’t fully understand what was going on. Hatchlings transforming into monsters was a new one on him (literally, at least - he’d dealt with it figuratively four times, once per younger brother), and the terrified youngsters were babbling about spells while voices boomed out of nowhere. If he was honest with himself - a rarity nowadays, being honest meant admitting fear and he had four younger brothers to be strong for - he felt completely out of his depth. Until the youngsters said “rescue”. He didn’t need to look around to know that his brother had pricked his ears up at that word, too, or to sense One gliding over to his side in something almost bordering on anticipation. Fake hatchlings and unseen voices aside, it was a Rescue. That, they could - would, [i]had to[/i] - do. “Tell us where,” he said, John now done with patching up the first youngster and coming over to treat the other. Five followed silently, her eyes glowing keenly as she looked from dragon to dragon. Beside him, One vibrated in that way he’d come to learn was her communicating with her sister. “We’ll find her.” “W-we told you,” the female squeaked. “We don’t have the spells, we can’t protect-” “I heard you the first time,” Scott interrupted, his voice low enough to almost be a growl. He ignored John’s sharp “Scott!” as the younger dragons flinched at his tone. “It doesn’t matter.” “What Scott [i]means[/i],” John cut in, and Scott frowned at him but let his younger brother continue, taking over the healing at an unspoken suggestion from the other. There was a reason John was their organisation’s voice, after all. “Is that we’re used to facing danger. Tell us everything you know; even if you can’t physically protect us, you can warn us.” The two youngsters - Scott should really get their names - looked at each other before beginning to babble. Something about “Shadowsong” - the kidnapped dragon, he presumed - “Singers”, and “Thana”. Most of it went straight over his head, tales of Mimics and an alliance with a rogue Singer sounding fantastical in a way that ordinarily he wouldn’t believe if he hadn’t already seen it happening. Realising that he wouldn’t learn anything like this, he busied himself with continuing basic first aid on the male and trusted John and Five to absorb the information, process it, and hopefully give him the simple, non-hysterical rundown in a much more sensible fashion later. The moment he withdrew from healing the young male, the dragon was on his feet and flapping his wings. The female followed suit, and it took both Scott and One to catch them before they flew off who-knew-where. “Oh no you don’t,” he said firmly, setting them on the ground and holding them there. John and Five helped to box them in. “You’re injured; I’m not letting the pair of you go chasing off after a mad dragon.” “We have to save Shadowsong!” they insisted in tandem. Scott merely rolled his eyes before looking over at John. If he could wrangle Gordon and Alan while they were trying to tag-team him, he could handle a pair of apprentices. “Those things will eat you alive,” he retorted. John nodded and Five spread her wings. “Stay. Here.” He dragged the pair over to Five, who immediately gripped onto them tightly. Their attempts to break away were all to no avail, as he knew they’d be. “You want to help? Everything we need to know, tell Five. She’ll relay it all to us.” Any further protests they made, he tuned out as he instead turned to face John once again. “John-” “I’m coming with you,” his younger brother cut in, drawn up to his full height and matching his gaze evenly. “You and One aren’t handling this alone.” Beside him, One made a concerned noise, and Scott agreed with her. Leading any of his brothers into a danger zone never sat well with him, and this seemed particularly dangerous - and John, of all of them, was least experienced at actual rescues. His immediate younger brother was far more suited to support roles in the background, away from danger. He’d almost rather take the injured youngsters along with him than John, but his brother would never agree to that. He couldn’t out-debate John, either. Not in the narrow time frame they had to get deep into the Tangled Woods and find this Thana’s lair. John knew this, of course. His genius brother had become annoyingly good at manipulation - helpful when it was the Terrible Two needing to be brought under control, frustrating when it was him at the receiving end of it. “Keep up,” was all he said, before they were in the air. John was not built for speed, but that didn’t matter with One around, scooping both pilots up and pushing her limits fast, fast, faster, until the ground far below them was a blur. Pink chalcedony gave way to pustile-encrusted wasteland, which in turn faded into the deep dark purple of the Tangled Woods. Somewhere, anywhere, in there, Thana laid in wait with her prisoner. Whoever this Thana was, anyway. “Thana is the kidnapped dragon’s sister,” John broke into his thoughts, as though he’d heard them. “Think of it as though the Hood kidnapped Kyrano. It seems to hold several parallels to that scenario.” Scott hid a shudder - that was not a scenario he was keen on. “So those youngsters are what, baby weak Kayos?” he asked, only half joking. John nodded, his face set into the familiar expression he wore when figuring out a particularly tough rescue. “Mimics are masters of disguises,” he continued. “They can look like anything - or any[i]one[/i] - they want, and apparently only Singers can tell the difference.” “Singers being..?” “Singers being a certain sect of nocturnes who have a strong sense of self-identity. They train hard to identify and defend against Mimics.” John paused for a moment, just long enough for Scott to realise what he was about to say and groan. “Those youngsters we left behind are Singers.” Typical. Youngsters. Why was it always youngsters? Scott’s thoughts strayed to his youngest brothers, not much older than the two dragons they’d rescued, and thanked whoever was listening that they’d been elsewhere and therefore not involved in this. “I’ve set up a link to them through Five,” John continued. “They’ll keep an eye on things from a distance and let us know if they notice anything out of the ordinary. The method isn’t foolproof though, Scott, so [i]don’t rush in[/i].” “You sound like Virgil,” he groused, somewhat wishing the steady middle brother was with him, but at the same time glad he wasn’t. He still didn’t really want John there either, but beggars couldn’t be choosers and his brother was clearly going nowhere. “Maybe you should listen to him more often.” John’s response was as scathing and pointed as expected. Scott chose to ignore it. “Where do we start?” he asked instead as One circled around a brightly-lit clearing, a cyan blue that looked nothing but eerie against the deep purple backdrop of the woods. “By finding the Mimics,” John answered, cool and unflappable as always. Scott had always admired that about him, even as it occasionally frustrated him. Now was somewhere between the two. “Five has collected all the data our young Singers can give her and is collating it into an algorithm to help us. There should be a distinct edge to the aura of the magic used in their disguises, so if we can identify that and do a sweep of the area, we should be able to find the greatest concentration without getting in too close.” “And if we can’t?” Scott asked, already gearing up to launch himself down into the forest below - that bright patch of cyan had suspicious written all over it. “If we can’t, then we’ll have to find another- Scott!” John’s frustrated voice followed the eldest brother as he tucked his wings in tightly and dove down into the tree tops. For his part, Scott just pulled his wings in tighter and willed himself to go faster, faster, knowing exactly what his little brother was about to try. They didn’t have [i]time[/i], why couldn’t John accept that? Sure, John was the fastest he knew at creating and implementing algorithms, but Scott couldn’t sit back and wait while they tried it out. “[i]Oomph[/i]!” Too slow. The tree tops brushed at his feet but sharp claws had snagged his shoulders and pulled him up. Scott was fast, but One was faster. Usually, that didn’t matter; they did everything together. Usually, One didn’t have John whispering in her ear and convincing her that he was being a danger to himself and needed to be stopped. “We’re on a time limit here, John!” he yelled up at his younger brother, but John was clearly ignoring him as he played with his own lights. Sparks flitted around his foreclaws as he drew patterns in the sky. Watching him work was never anything short of magical, but Scott’s mind was full of images of injured dragons and the fear on the kidnapped dragons’ face before she’d vanished, occasionally superimposing them with images of his own brothers. He couldn’t wait any longer, he [i]couldn’t[/i]. But One had him tightly and no matter how much he struggled, there would be no breaking free unless she let him. “There we go.” John sounded triumphant, his foreclaws now flicking at what Scott vaguely recognised as a complete algorithm and sending it out. That had been fast, even for him and Five working together. No doubt Eos had added her own assistance, a fact Scott was glad for, even if he still didn’t fully trust her. One rose higher into the air, Scott still hanging limply and somewhat irately from her claws, and he watched the lights dance across the entirety of the forest. Streaks shot back towards John at irregular intervals, all caught with ease and constructed into some sort of grid pattern. Scott craned his neck to look up at it, trying to decipher the information as fast as possible so he could start the rescue part of the mission. John, frustrating little brother that he was, kept the grid at an oblique angle to his line of sight, making it impossible to infer any information from it. He made his displeasure known with another groan. “Almost got it,” John told him, not taking his eyes off of the data that he was keeping away deliberately. “Just wait another few seconds and I’ll be able to tell you where the highest concentration… is. Got you.” Scott craned his neck further, trying desperately to see his brother’s results. With a sigh, John tilted the grid towards him. “Where’s that?” he asked after a moment of fruitlessly trying to decipher the information. John rolled his eyes at him, whispered something to One, and then they were off again, Scott still clutched in her claws like a naughty child. He was going to kill John. Except he wasn’t, because John was his little brother and no matter how annoying they were he’d never hurt any of them. “The Foxfire Grove,” said annoying younger brother told him, clearly well aware that that, too, meant nothing to Scott. He growled and [i]finally[/i] John relented. “That brightly lit patch of brambles over your ten o’clock.” Scott looked over and, sure enough, there was the brightly lit area in question. He [i]knew[/i] brightly lit meant trouble. “I’m going in,” he said, twisting in One’s hold. “John, you stay here.” His brother was not used to being on the front lines, and with aggressors opposing them he was not about to risk him. “F.A.B.” John agreed - finally - and One’s claws released him. Enough time had been wasted already, so Scott folded his wings in tightly and dived. He could hear John’s resigned sigh but ignored it. They had a Singer - whatever that was, he still didn’t really understand that part - to save. And he was all alone to do it. Well, not entirely alone, as One joined him in his dive, pilot and Thunderbird together as one. As it should be. He left her hovering just above the brambles, waiting for his signal as he continued down, landing as quietly as he could amongst the thorns. They rustled, a sign he would usually have dismissed as critters in the undergrowth or even just the breeze. Knowing that he’d just dived into a lair of Mimics - that part he [i]had[/i] understood - he instead paid close attention. Nothing here would be real, he reminded himself as he padded forwards, senses on high alert for an attack. He couldn’t trust his eyes, had to find the dragon he’d seen taken [i]right in front of him[/i] (yes, maybe that was rankling him just a bit), and then get out of there. No heroics, no fighting the bad guys. He was a rescuer, not military. Even this - more a hostage situation than anything else - was technically outside of his jurisdiction, but Scott was never one to leave someone to suffer. And maybe the frightened youngsters losing their mentor hit a little too close to home for comfort. He shoved those thoughts away, aware that his paranoia was creeping up the longer the undergrowth rustled and hissed but nothing showed itself. There was an evil dragon in here he had to avoid, and a victim to save. Usually he wouldn’t mind a bit of confrontation, but he had no idea what this Thana was capable of, and no real desire to find out, either. The undergrowth’s hissing turned into footsteps, unsteady and lurching as a figure came out of the shadows in front of him. “Help… me…” the young dragon rasped, covered in blood as they stumbled to the ground in front of him. Scott flinched. [i]Nothing is real[/i] he reminded himself, even as they lurched forwards, stained claws reaching for him frantically. [i]Not real. Not real. Not real.[/i] [i]Dammit.[/i] He knew better, really he did, but helping those in need was something he’d sworn to always do. He had to save everyone, no matter who they were. He crouched down, slowly, reluctantly, but unable to turn away and leave this almost certainly fake dragon to their fate. [i][b]“No!”[/b][/i] Three voices in tandem reverberated through him, John and Five’s nifty communications setup linking him as promised to the youngsters left far, far away, as well as his brother still circling far overhead. [i]“That’s a Mimic!”[/i] the youngsters continued to babble. [i]“Don’t stop; they’ll get you, too!”[/i] But- Scott knew they were right, of course they were, but ignoring his eyes and heart was far more of a challenge than he’d anticipated, and it was one he wasn’t sure he could beat. [i]“You can do this, Scott,”[/i] John told him, cutting straight through his doubts in the way only his immediate younger brother could do with his cool logic and calm voice. [i]“It’s a fake. No-one is actually hurt, I promise.”[/i] John was as anti-suffering as he was. In fact, if there was any brother [i]more[/i] determined to save lives than Scott, it was John. If there was even a chance this distress was genuine, John wouldn’t stop him. Scott clung to that truth, his faith in his brother, as he backed off. The injured dragon warped, fading into smoke just like those two hatchlings he’d thought he’d been saving had, and with a hiss, the shadowy creature launched itself at him. “Woah!” The cry was instinct, Scott dodging to the side with all the speed he could summon as the shadow streaked by, vanishing into the undergrowth. He braced himself for another attack, turning slowly in a circle and trusting One and John to be keeping a keen eye on him from above, but nothing happened. The Mimic had seemingly dissolved into thin air, leaving Scott even more on edge than he had been previously. They hadn’t pursued their attack further - why? Was he of no interest to them, or did this Thana know he was here and have other plans? One of those options did not bode at all well, and he was willing to bet that was the one. Nothing was going to be gained by standing around, so Scott cautiously ventured in further, hearing the hissing and rustling from the brambles increasing in intensity and volume as he did so, but no further attacks came. [i]“I don’t like this, Scott,”[/i] John told him. Scott made a noise of agreement - he didn’t like it either, but somewhere in here was a dragon in need of saving, and he wasn’t going to leave without her. He continued his advance, taking comfort in the quiet sound of One flying overhead - out of reach of Mimics, hopefully, but close enough to be at his side in an instant if he needed her. The darkness was growing more and more oppressive the further he got, eerie cyan glow interspersing it without actually supplying much light by which to see. He chanced a glance upwards, to look for One, but her glowing eyes blended in with the rest of the cyan, rendering her and her shiny silver scales invisible to him. He knew he wasn’t alone, but right then it felt like it. [center][i]Just one dragon, all alone, thinks to enter my lair?[/i][/center] The Voice boomed again - Thana, he presumed. Well, at least that meant he was in the right place. He heard the youngsters start to babble again, a distracting duet of voices in his head when he really needed to concentrate. John’s soothing tones cut in, quietening them, but the damage was done - Scott’s concentration had wavered. [center][i]Shall I show you what happened to the last one?[/i][/center] He braced himself, anticipating an attack. It was so much worse. [i]“Scott!”[/i] John cried, but he didn’t hear him. Nor did he hear One’s gentle noises increase in volume until she was roaring in frustration, trying to get through to him. [i]“He’s not real!”[/i] the youngsters joined the chorus in vain as Scott stumbled forwards, eyes wide and disbelieving, yet too full of hope to acknowledge the trap. “Hello, Scotty,” his father said. He was in a bad way, collapsed on the ground and bleeding out. Scott had seen enough death to know his father was knocking on the door. “Dad!” he cried, lunging forwards, deaf to the myriad of protests from the others. “Dad, you… you-” [i]You’re alive![/i] He’d almost given up, in the back of his mind, considering his absent father dead because after so long, what other fate could there be? But here, now, in front of him, his father was [i]alive[/i] - barely. He couldn’t lose him again. He was at his side in an instant, pressing against the worst of the wounds as best he could whilst channelling as much healing energy as he could summon. It flowed through him and into his father’s dying form, life seeping away no matter what he tried. “No, not like this!” he ground out, pushing more, [i]more[/i], the back of his mind wondering why John wasn’t here to help him but realistically knowing that there was nothing to be done. Reality could go stuff itself, as far as Scott was concerned. Slowly, his father’s body began to shift, smoke curling up from it in enticing tendrils that wrapped around Scott soothingly. Gentle caresses coaxed him in further, deeper, as he poured everything he had into saving the disintegrating figure of his long-lost father. He failed, foreclaws making contact with the earth below as the last of the form dissolved into smoke - smoke which no longer felt soft, soothing or enticing. It bound him tightly, constricting his movements and suffocating his breathing as it wrapped around him again, again, and again. He fought, writhing against the tangible smoke in a desperate attempt to free himself, but to no avail. Vision blurred, and a sharp pain spiked in his shoulders. “-tt? -cott! [i]SCOTT![/i]” Clarity came back to him in an instant, eyes he didn’t remember closing snapping open as he began to fight again. Above him he could see the face of his brother, teeth set in a grim determination as he tore at the shadows. A humming beneath him - furious, [i]vicious[/i] humming - told him he was on One’s back. “And stay away!” John spat, as vitrolic as Scott had ever heard his usually calm brother, as he hurtled the last strands of tangible smoke away from them, down to the forest below. For a moment, Scott did nothing, gasping as he lay on One’s back, with John hovering over him anxiously. “Scott?” he asked gently, tentatively brushing against his shoulder. “I’m okay,” he lied, still panting but after a moment pushing himself back up. “I’m okay. We still need to save Shadowsong.” “It’s too dangerous,” John protested, tentative brushes of his shoulder turning into a firm hold. “We have to save her,” Scott overrode him, wriggling out of his brother’s grip with an ease born of years of practice - John was far from the strongest of his brothers. “If you go back down there, I’m going too,” John snapped. Scott saw the manipulation, saw him preying on his own desire to never, ever let his brothers get hurt. Not this time. He’d led brothers into danger before - never happy about it, but he’d [i]done[/i] it. “Fine,” he retorted. “But you follow my orders, got it?” “F.A.B.” John replied. Scott wished he didn’t know it wasn’t an agreement and that John would do exactly what he wanted to do, regardless of his orders. They didn’t have time to argue. Thana’s deception - cruel and evil, which still clouded his mind if he let himself dwell on the image of his father dying so he didn’t, because if there was one thing Scott had got very good at since his father had gone missing it was lying to himself - had cost them far too much. They dived down, side by side this time, with One once again following behind only to break off at the treeline and wait as backup. John pushed forwards as they got closer to the ground, and against his better judgement Scott let him, because he knew John had been analysing everything and knew the best place to land. Sure enough, his younger brother led them unerringly to a hidden alcove, completely invisible from above, inside which a fully grown nocturne lay limp and unmoving on the ground. This, Scott was sure, was Shadowsong, even before the youngsters piped up through their link from Five in an excited clamour to confirm they were seeing the real dragon, and not another Mimic in disguise. Scott had had quite enough of [i]those[/i] to last him a lifetime. He hurried forwards, John hanging back and keeping a careful watch out for Mimics, or worse, Thana, as he tried to rouse the dragon. His efforts were to no avail; whatever Mimic magic had her in its thrall, it was something far beyond what Scott could break. Given time, John probably could, but time they did not have - had not had all night - so Scott hauled her onto his back with a grunt. “We’re leaving,” he told his brother, who made no protest as he leapt into the sky. Scott followed, the deadweight on his back little more than an inconvenience as he kept a careful eye on her to ensure she wouldn’t fall. The treetops loomed ahead of them, and for a moment he thought they’d made it. [center][i]I don’t think so.[/i][/center] [i]“It’s Thana!”[/i] the youngsters screamed, somewhat unnecessarily as a nocturne loomed in front of them in the darkness, forcing them both to a halt. Her ill intent rolled off her in waves, and Scott instinctively moved closer to John, shielding his younger brother with his body. There was no protest, unusually, but Scott didn’t let himself dwell on that right now. Thana was powerful, terrifyingly so, and he had no intention of letting her take his brother, or the dragon he’d just rescued. [center][i]My sister belongs to me. Give her back without a fuss, and I’ll allow you and your brother to leave unharmed.[/i][/center] Even directly in front of them, her voice boomed from nowhere and everywhere while her mouth stayed still. Ventriloquism, or something more sinister? Scott was a skeptic, despite everything - [i]father there, father dying, father never there[/i] - and pulled himself up to his full height. “Why should we believe you?” he demanded, looking for a way out and hoping that John’s silence meant he was thinking, not that he was frozen in fear - or worse. He couldn’t look back at him, not right now. Taking his eyes off of Thana would be a fatal mistake - [i]that[/i], he was certain. [center][i]I do not think you are in a position to debate the matter.[/i][/center] There was definite humour in her tone - that of a cat who had cornered a mouse. Scott wasn’t very fond of it as his mind raced through options. He could try and make a break for it - even with Shadowsong on his back, he was confident that he was faster than the nocturne or her Mimics - but John would never keep up. One could dive in to get them out of there, fastest of them all as she was, but that would give Thana warning, and who knew what she’d do. Or he could give Shadowsong up, but that, too, was unthinkable. “I think we are.” John’s voice was as calm and collected as ever. Thana’s gaze shot to him, and this time when Scott moved to place himself in the way, John stopped him. [center][i]You are surrounded by Mimics, in the heart of my lair, and you think you have a hand to play against me? What a fool you are.[/i][/center] “There’s always a hand to play.” John was smirking, a glint in his eye Scott knew all too well. It was the one that meant John had outsmarted everyone around him and knew it. Even Thana seemed to recognise something was wrong, not quite backing up but no longer the looming presence she had been before. [center][i]And what, pray tell, would your hand be?[/i][/center] “Me.” The weight on Scott’s back shifted, no longer an inelegant lump but a conscious and powerful Singer. John’s silence and uncharacteristic willingness to hide behind him suddenly made sense. “The three of us are leaving here, Thana, and your friends the Mimics will trouble us no more.” Scott had difficulty following what happened next; a clash of magic beyond his comprehension from the two nocturnes with him in the middle fanned out around them. He pulled John close, wanting to be certain he was safe as spells and curses whipped around them all. Mimics rose at Thana’s call, only to splutter and fall as Shadowsong retaliated with magic that could only be described as a Song. Faintly, he was aware of the youngsters - Singer apprentices - singing quietly, bolstering their mentor even from a distance. It lasted both a second and eternity, but Thana crashed from the sky, landing inamongst the remains of her lair and Mimics, and Scott could breathe again. “It’s over,” Shadowsong whispered in his ear, her voice hoarse. “I apologise, but I will require help to leave this place. Battling my sister took everything I had.” There was pain in her voice, one Scott almost thought he could understand. The idea of ever having to battle one of his own brothers like that brought immeasurable agony - so he didn’t think about it. “That’s no problem,” he reassured her. “Just hold on. One and I will do the rest.” “There are two very happy youngsters who’ll be delighted to see you,” John added in. “Voidsong and Nightsong have been frantic.” So [i]that[/i] was their names. Of course John knew. “I’m sure they have,” Shadowsong said, fond amusement in her voice as she relaxed on Scott’s back. One swooped down from where she’d been circling impatiently and scooped all three dragons up, ready to make the supersonic journey back to Five and the youngsters. [center][i]This isn’t over, sister.[/i][/center] Thana’s voice was as hoarse as Shadowsong’s, taking out any intimidation it once held. They ignored her as One accelerated away from her lair. “She will recover,” Shadowsong admitted. “But we have bought time to finish training more Singers. With luck, her next move will be her last.” Scott could only agree.

Claim post! This is the earliest I've been!

Claim Post: I'm excited for this one!