I AM SOO DAMN SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT.
Life got in the way alot. Then I kept forgetting to post the individual chapters. TT-TT
This chapter is little more than introducing another chracter, as well as giving a peek at how Fros interacts with humans.
No Wal-Mart employees were harmed in the writing of this chapter :D
~~~~
So, live dissection tended to get people off your back for a long time.
Good to know, yes?
Back to life as Frosne was used to.
Wake, shower, work, eat, remind herself that the paperwork was not worth wringing Drem’s neck, and back to sleep.
A bit repetitive and dull, perhaps, but Fros had lived through wars and famines. Peaceful echoes were a welcome thing to a lazy creature such as herself.
At present, the midnight blue slit of her pupil dilated and retracted in the face of her current ire.
Grocery stores.
Or, more to point, the people who worked in them.
A far cry from the open markets and seller stalls she had grown up with, a supermarket staffed by minimum wage workers that had little interest in what the consumer needed, let alone doing their actual jobs was an irritant at best. They tended to have interesting items for Fros to buy, true, but the people that called themselves employees at such places needed to leave her the hell alone before she froze their genitals and busted them open like the hollow shells her ice breath could make them into. Pushy assholes like the one chirping at her about their vegan produce selections could just go fuck themselves.
Frosne was tired, hungry, and borderline ready to just turn this vegan preacher into her lunch instead of the nice chicken breast she had chosen.
Never stand between a Dragon and their food, folks. There’s only soo much ketchup can do.
Had Frosne been in her Dragon or even her anthropomorphic Dragon form, she knew she wouldn’t be having such troubles. Humans are dull creatures, and most didn’t like acknowledging the fact that what they called “supernaturals” roamed the Earth side by side with them, so even if one of said supernatural creatures was in their birth form, humans’ brains often just perceived them as another human, save for perhaps a small detail like eyes or a patch of scales here and there. A few, like Fros, could actually take human form in truth, and not just have it be a trick of the human mind. The difference is this: When in their natural form, most humans’ instincts warned them of the dangerous natural predator they stood near. But when in her human shapeshift? Not soo much.
“Look.” Fros finally interrupted the peppy bitch, eyes starting to glow faintly, making the purple speckles stand out in her mostly red irises (she liked to leave her eyes as Dragon even in human shift, so sue her). “I have not eaten in almost twenty four hours. I just got off work. Either leave me alone and let me get my food, or become my food. I like barbeque. Haven’t had human in a few centuries. Could be nice.”
Frosne got incredibly short in temper and words when hungry.
On the bright side, the employee realized she was talking to a non-human entity. On the down side, the moron thought she was kidding about the whole eating humans thing. Stupid fuck kept talking.
Just as Fros was about to lose it, growling like some feral Shifter, (which finally shut the foolish short life up at last), a throat cleared to her right. A swift snapping movement from her neck echoed her reptilian tendencies in her true form as she turned her irritated attention to the new person. She calmed slightly, recognizing the male. He was a Gryphon that worked as a private detective, and a friend of Frosne’s for the past four hundred years. A goodly seven feet even in his human shape, Aerynick slid a calming palm over Frosne’s shoulder, giving her an empathetic look with those antiqued gold eyes.
“Draca, don’t bother. Hardly anything but bones on these vegan things. Reminds me of the starving farmers during Ireland’s famine.” He had shifted enough to extend a dark eagle wing to her, and she shifted her own (reduced greatly in size to match her frame) wing to rub against his in acknowledgement and welcome.
Don’t ask about how they appeared through their clothing. The magicks of shape change is not a strong point in Frosne’s knowledge.
Wide eyed, the employee had backed up until no risk of physical contact could be had, before running off out of sight. Frosne sighed in relief, contouring her wing under her friend’s in fond thanks. The joy of physical contact through wing was something she never got tired of, and she welcomed the excuse to wing hug Aerynick for a proper greeting. She did not linger, however, for she really wanted to get back to her place and eat.
“I hate to rush, cariad, but I wasn’t kidding about not haven eaten lately, and really need to get back to my place. You are welcome to join me and make your own food in my kitchen.” She nodded towards his own selection of groceries. A fond smile, true and deep, stretched her friend’s features. A Dragon offering to share space in their den, for any reason, was rare. Rarer still was an offer to share space with the Draci’s food. Fros was no exception to this, and Aery knew it. The paranoid reptile of a female was cautious of everyone, and wary of the few she let close.
“Then if you have everything, we can go, ma chere.” He smoothed a hand down the center of her back. Gryphon, like most Shifter-kyn, are very tactile, and Fros didn’t really mind it herself. Fond and comforting touch between friends and loved ones was a sensation that could be counted as a Treasure to Fros.
She also noticed the normally beaked male had switched to French again. He often did that. It was sort of cute.
To soothe further her own agitation, Fros ran a hand through her mostly white and grey hair. The colored highlights of black and blue that she had put in effect shimmered slightly and changed, black to a forest green, neon blue to a softer teal. Calmer colors. Aerynick could not help his grin and briefly rested his head atop hers, a Gryphon way of showing affection. It was also a small feat, since even at her height of five foot seven inches, the male’s own height made most such displays a challenge.
They did leave together, and the Gryphon did make his own food in Frosne’s kitchen. It had been a long time since she had been able to relax with a friend in such a way, and she cherished it.
Life got in the way alot. Then I kept forgetting to post the individual chapters. TT-TT
This chapter is little more than introducing another chracter, as well as giving a peek at how Fros interacts with humans.
No Wal-Mart employees were harmed in the writing of this chapter :D
~~~~
So, live dissection tended to get people off your back for a long time.
Good to know, yes?
Back to life as Frosne was used to.
Wake, shower, work, eat, remind herself that the paperwork was not worth wringing Drem’s neck, and back to sleep.
A bit repetitive and dull, perhaps, but Fros had lived through wars and famines. Peaceful echoes were a welcome thing to a lazy creature such as herself.
At present, the midnight blue slit of her pupil dilated and retracted in the face of her current ire.
Grocery stores.
Or, more to point, the people who worked in them.
A far cry from the open markets and seller stalls she had grown up with, a supermarket staffed by minimum wage workers that had little interest in what the consumer needed, let alone doing their actual jobs was an irritant at best. They tended to have interesting items for Fros to buy, true, but the people that called themselves employees at such places needed to leave her the hell alone before she froze their genitals and busted them open like the hollow shells her ice breath could make them into. Pushy assholes like the one chirping at her about their vegan produce selections could just go fuck themselves.
Frosne was tired, hungry, and borderline ready to just turn this vegan preacher into her lunch instead of the nice chicken breast she had chosen.
Never stand between a Dragon and their food, folks. There’s only soo much ketchup can do.
Had Frosne been in her Dragon or even her anthropomorphic Dragon form, she knew she wouldn’t be having such troubles. Humans are dull creatures, and most didn’t like acknowledging the fact that what they called “supernaturals” roamed the Earth side by side with them, so even if one of said supernatural creatures was in their birth form, humans’ brains often just perceived them as another human, save for perhaps a small detail like eyes or a patch of scales here and there. A few, like Fros, could actually take human form in truth, and not just have it be a trick of the human mind. The difference is this: When in their natural form, most humans’ instincts warned them of the dangerous natural predator they stood near. But when in her human shapeshift? Not soo much.
“Look.” Fros finally interrupted the peppy bitch, eyes starting to glow faintly, making the purple speckles stand out in her mostly red irises (she liked to leave her eyes as Dragon even in human shift, so sue her). “I have not eaten in almost twenty four hours. I just got off work. Either leave me alone and let me get my food, or become my food. I like barbeque. Haven’t had human in a few centuries. Could be nice.”
Frosne got incredibly short in temper and words when hungry.
On the bright side, the employee realized she was talking to a non-human entity. On the down side, the moron thought she was kidding about the whole eating humans thing. Stupid fuck kept talking.
Just as Fros was about to lose it, growling like some feral Shifter, (which finally shut the foolish short life up at last), a throat cleared to her right. A swift snapping movement from her neck echoed her reptilian tendencies in her true form as she turned her irritated attention to the new person. She calmed slightly, recognizing the male. He was a Gryphon that worked as a private detective, and a friend of Frosne’s for the past four hundred years. A goodly seven feet even in his human shape, Aerynick slid a calming palm over Frosne’s shoulder, giving her an empathetic look with those antiqued gold eyes.
“Draca, don’t bother. Hardly anything but bones on these vegan things. Reminds me of the starving farmers during Ireland’s famine.” He had shifted enough to extend a dark eagle wing to her, and she shifted her own (reduced greatly in size to match her frame) wing to rub against his in acknowledgement and welcome.
Don’t ask about how they appeared through their clothing. The magicks of shape change is not a strong point in Frosne’s knowledge.
Wide eyed, the employee had backed up until no risk of physical contact could be had, before running off out of sight. Frosne sighed in relief, contouring her wing under her friend’s in fond thanks. The joy of physical contact through wing was something she never got tired of, and she welcomed the excuse to wing hug Aerynick for a proper greeting. She did not linger, however, for she really wanted to get back to her place and eat.
“I hate to rush, cariad, but I wasn’t kidding about not haven eaten lately, and really need to get back to my place. You are welcome to join me and make your own food in my kitchen.” She nodded towards his own selection of groceries. A fond smile, true and deep, stretched her friend’s features. A Dragon offering to share space in their den, for any reason, was rare. Rarer still was an offer to share space with the Draci’s food. Fros was no exception to this, and Aery knew it. The paranoid reptile of a female was cautious of everyone, and wary of the few she let close.
“Then if you have everything, we can go, ma chere.” He smoothed a hand down the center of her back. Gryphon, like most Shifter-kyn, are very tactile, and Fros didn’t really mind it herself. Fond and comforting touch between friends and loved ones was a sensation that could be counted as a Treasure to Fros.
She also noticed the normally beaked male had switched to French again. He often did that. It was sort of cute.
To soothe further her own agitation, Fros ran a hand through her mostly white and grey hair. The colored highlights of black and blue that she had put in effect shimmered slightly and changed, black to a forest green, neon blue to a softer teal. Calmer colors. Aerynick could not help his grin and briefly rested his head atop hers, a Gryphon way of showing affection. It was also a small feat, since even at her height of five foot seven inches, the male’s own height made most such displays a challenge.
They did leave together, and the Gryphon did make his own food in Frosne’s kitchen. It had been a long time since she had been able to relax with a friend in such a way, and she cherished it.
Category Story / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 78 x 120px
File Size 14.3 kB
Ha!
Serves that Human right!
Annoying a Dragon is the last thing anyone, especially a Human, should do!
But did you really have to put a reference to the "ketchup" meme in there?
Or don't you know that condiments spoil the natural taste of any meat?
Also, I'll have you know that Dragons never eat Human if there are other things around, as it is far too bitter.
However, that doesn't stop us from threatening it, or even pretending to do it!
You're right about one thing, though: Letting another creature share our kitchens, much less setting one paw into our lairs, is rare indeed.
More frequently, we reward those who serve us well with a coin made from our stock of 100% pure gold. Each coin is several thousand karats, yet is no heavier than a Susan B. Anthony coin. When shown to a person who has knowledge of just how valuable gold is, say at an assay office or another place where the purity of gold, silver, etc., can be determined, these coins make even the poorest of people into instant multi-billionaires, with the equivalent of about ten times the money held by the richest men of their era.
Currently it is Warren Buffett or Bill Gates, but in the late 19th-early 20th centuries, railroad magnates like the Vanderbilt family and industry tycoons like the Carnegies were the top dogs when It came to wealth.
One coin is all it took to turn a man who was poorer than poor, into one who was richer than rich.
They were was truly rags-to-riches tales.
And we were all too happy to provide our best workers with the instrument needed to write these tales.
Of course, some of these workers went above and beyond the call of duty and as such were rewarded appropriately: they were turned into Dragons. (However, if a crime was committed after their 18th birthday, they were changed into Dracoreas.)
Serves that Human right!
Annoying a Dragon is the last thing anyone, especially a Human, should do!
But did you really have to put a reference to the "ketchup" meme in there?
Or don't you know that condiments spoil the natural taste of any meat?
Also, I'll have you know that Dragons never eat Human if there are other things around, as it is far too bitter.
However, that doesn't stop us from threatening it, or even pretending to do it!
You're right about one thing, though: Letting another creature share our kitchens, much less setting one paw into our lairs, is rare indeed.
More frequently, we reward those who serve us well with a coin made from our stock of 100% pure gold. Each coin is several thousand karats, yet is no heavier than a Susan B. Anthony coin. When shown to a person who has knowledge of just how valuable gold is, say at an assay office or another place where the purity of gold, silver, etc., can be determined, these coins make even the poorest of people into instant multi-billionaires, with the equivalent of about ten times the money held by the richest men of their era.
Currently it is Warren Buffett or Bill Gates, but in the late 19th-early 20th centuries, railroad magnates like the Vanderbilt family and industry tycoons like the Carnegies were the top dogs when It came to wealth.
One coin is all it took to turn a man who was poorer than poor, into one who was richer than rich.
They were was truly rags-to-riches tales.
And we were all too happy to provide our best workers with the instrument needed to write these tales.
Of course, some of these workers went above and beyond the call of duty and as such were rewarded appropriately: they were turned into Dragons. (However, if a crime was committed after their 18th birthday, they were changed into Dracoreas.)
I am weak, my lady, and it was too good a comment to pass up >///<
I do know that, Frosne often complains to me about just that whenever I'm feeling the need to be crass and bring up a human dinner joke. But it was something we both agreed was required to connect all to the scene.
Thank you for your patience and reading :D
I do know that, Frosne often complains to me about just that whenever I'm feeling the need to be crass and bring up a human dinner joke. But it was something we both agreed was required to connect all to the scene.
Thank you for your patience and reading :D
FA+

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