if i hadn't made me, i'd have fallen apart by now.

[fantasycliche]

Who: fantasycliche and YOU.
When: Forward dated to the afternoon of the 4th.
Where: anywhere in the Port! It starts near the baseball diamond, but feel free to run into her at any point in this whole adventure. Just lemme know where/when. 8)
Summary: DRAGONS DON'T SIT AROUND AND LISTEN TO GREETERS WHEN THEY SHOW UP, DRAGONS HAVE BETTER THINGS TO DO. Namely,

Comments

Night, Sector 10

[under_thehood]

[Out on patrol again when he hears the great sound of a dragon's wings. Wait, dragon's wings in Port? The vigilante turns around slowly and okay yeah, there's actually a dragon in Port. He's staring up at her from under his domino mask for a moment or two, eyebrows furrowed. He's sorely tempted to call in Bruce or Clark for this, but with how things went the past week, he's shutting that urge right down.

He can handle this on his own.]

[fantasycliche]

[ A human doesn't register at first. She's a little busy with the monsters, as it were. None of them have been a challenge yet, but it's interesting to work out the most efficient ways of killing each type. Most of the fliers seem to be safe to take down at close range, with no spurting acid. So that's what she's doing now, yanking one from the air, slamming into a rooftop, and ripping half of its body away. Another one that tastes poorly. Humph. She'll find one that isn't disgusting eventually.

And it's about then that she notices Jason. Bright orange eyes lock instantly onto him, and just as quickly narrow. Oh, she definitely remembers this human. She remembers that she'd been just about to kill him, last she'd seen him. ]

[under_thehood]

[Jason just watches for a couple seconds as the dragon tears into a monster and is almost fascinated for a few seconds, kind of enjoying the show. It's extreme, brutal, and, at the same time, necessary. For once, he's still, just watching. And then she turns to face him, his gut screams at him to move. Something isn't right.

Still, he's just rooted in place, focused on this creature he's never seen in anything besides storybooks. It's a fucking dragon.]

[fantasycliche]

[ She's still for a few seconds, but then slinks to the edge of her roof. This one is higher than his-- as if she'd needed any height advantage. The examination continues there for a few seconds longer, but it's unnecessary. It's the same man. She'd know him anywhere. Her claws clutch absently at the edge of the building, and concrete crumbles under them. ]

Not quite so brave tonight, are you?

[under_thehood]

[Jason pockets his hands, going into a more casual stance, despite the fact that she could probably kill him in about two seconds. He's not even sure where the weakpoints on a dragon are. He's been trained in how to kill people in any way, not things of this size. Still, he does his best to not watch the crumbling concrete under her claws.]

Sure, if you want to bet your life on that go ahead.

[fantasycliche]

The story is different when I'm armed.

[ Her voice is low, purring, every inch satisfied. She's about to receive a long-awaited gift, after all. Her wings snap open, and in one long jump she's crouched at the edge of his roof instead. ]

Oh, but you probably don't recognize this shape, do you?

[under_thehood]

[Jason doesn't budge, keeping his hands tucked away in his pockets, carefully fingering some home-made explosives. This could go very bad in about two seconds and so he's really depending on being able to react quickly. Plan, adapt.]

Can't say I hang out with a whole ton of dragons. I'm more of a human guy myself. [Slight smirk.]

[fantasycliche]

Smart choice. Too bad you didn't stick to them. You'd have been safer now.

[ And, that said, she thrashes out. From utter, poised stillness to an explosion of violent movement. Her tail whips around, aiming for a long-distance strike at him-- hopefully to knock him off balance, possibly break a few bones, and let her get closer to begin the interesting part. ]

[under_thehood]

[The moment he sees that tail whip out, he knows he won't be quite fast enough. Still, he flips upwards, hoping to get enough vertical movement to just grab on if need be. Upside down, and he definitely doesn't clear her tail completely. So, to prevent being knocked off the roof, he stabs his knife into her tail and simply holds on. If he lets go, he knows he's dead.

Still, the momentum is enough to push the air out of his lungs, make it impossible to speak or make any kind of cutesy comebacks as he hopes his still-healing wrist holds out long enough to survive it.]

[fantasycliche]

[ The little prick of pain puzzles her at first, until she's seen just what he's done. Given himself a handhold. Creative one, isn't he? She recalls that she'd underestimated him last time, and knows better than to make that mistake this time. No toying, she'll just go straight to the kill.

She thrashes her tail in a few quick snaps, realizes it won't do much besides make him dizzy, and growls. Fine, then she'll dislodge him herself. This time her tail curls around more slowly, one foreclaw looking to snatch him off manually. ]

[under_thehood]

[The thrashing of her tail makes him jerk back and forth across her tail, wincing as his body protests to being beaten in such a way. Still, it's not doing much damage except making his head spin, which it continues to do for a few moments after it slows. He glances up to see her claw and, as quickly as he can manage, pulls his knife out of her tail, attempting to drop back down to the roof.]

[fantasycliche]

[ It's a little hard to out maneuver a dragon at close range, and she lets him hit the roof again-- only to slam the talon into his chest. The force will be enough to knock him from her feet, and her weight will be more than enough to pin him there.

The grin she turns down on him is wide and toothy, each fang gleaming in what little light there is. ]

Oh, this is nice. I rather like this reversal.

[under_thehood]

[Jason slaps down against the concrete roof with a crack, his limbs splayed out for a second before he does his best to collect his wits. Her weight on his chest makes him cough and splutter indignantly as he's reminded too much of his death, how it felt to be completely helpless and unable to do anything but feel the weight of the ceiling crush him. Panic eats up into his throat when he hears cracking from inside him. Oh God, this isn't-- calm down Jason, save air. Save air, think.

He can't get anything out of his jacket and his knife is too far away to do anything now; the only thing he can do is make sure she doesn't garner any satisfaction from his death. And, with that dark resignation,] Your breath smells like ass.

[isitablurred]

[There's a limit. For Clark, there's a distinct limit. It comes when something that should have been interfered with goes too far, and even if he knows that his limit isn't the same as Bruce's, he knows that this has surpassed it. He knows when he hears the first rib crack, and by the time Jason's spat out his last words - because they are last words, Khisanth is going to crush him flat like a robin hitting a 747 - Clark is there, between outstretched, betaloned paw and the young man beneath it. His legs are braced wide beneath him, hands flat against slippery scales, but nails curved into the cracks between them for purchase.]

You're a real class act when it comes to making friends, aren't you?

[It's not really clear who he's talking to, but he doesn't really need to specify, either.]

[fantasycliche]

[ How-- had he teleported? She recognizes Superman from earlier, of course, when she'd guessed he was strong-- but she hadn't realized he would be strong enough to push even her back. And he is, because even when she strains against his grip, there's no forward give.

So she tries the opposite direction, backing up a few paces with a bristling growl. Her head lowers, eyes narrowed and teeth bared when she speaks. ]

He's no friend. I was merely finishing what he'd started.

[under_thehood]

Never seen you before, bitch.

[As Jason honestly hasn't and he's pretty sure he would recognize a dragon. Still, something she mentioned about not recognizing this particular form that still confuses him. The voice isn't at all familiar and it's not like he goes around drunk and forgetting people. He knows faces, names, and voices and hers isn't anywhere in his mental database.

Still, he's moving as quickly as he can, the wince visible on his face as he half-crawls a couple feet away from them, his breath a quick gulping sound as he does his best to regain his breath.]