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Date Posted: 01:18:23 11/27/01 Tue
Author: Tristan and Rowan
Subject: Being cranky and curious
In reply to: Barry 's message, "Awakening... again." on 20:57:55 11/23/01 Fri

Tristan bristled visibly at the ugly floating skull, the corner of his mouth turning up in a slight snarl as the thing bobbed up and down in the air while talking. Although he wasn’t at all sure what a cutter was, he knew he didn’t like being called names, that was for sure damned sure. He tolerated very few people when it came to name-calling; in fact, there was only one, and even he didn’t do it as much as he used to. Well, once or twice Corum had called him a prude, but Tristan was working on that, so it didn’t really count.

“I’m two hundred and ninety three, thank you very much,” he muttered, still glaring at the talkative skull, which had just made some sarcastic comment about their apparent ages. Of course, being nearly three hundred years of age was practically middle age for an elf, and a human would have long since been buried under the ground, but for a dragon, it was still a mere youth. A fledging, to use the term of his own kind, mostly because his body, mainly his wings, still had a good bit of growing to do in dragon form.

But even though he might have been alive “a few hundred years ago,” as the skull pointed out, he certainly hadn’t been on this world, so it wouldn’t have mattered. Not that a hatchling could have done much to stop a mad cleric, but hey, no need to be such a stickler for details. Besides, he’d learned to blow flame before most kids did, and even evil priests would burn if you had the knack of raising their temperatures a few thousand degrees.

As he finally sat down, mumbling curses under his breath, the skull finally got around to explaining why he was here, thanks to Marz’s reiteration. He smirked when his friend called the thing “bonehead.” Let’s see how it took to being called names!

Surprisingly well. Didn’t seem at all fazed, actually. Tristan huffed a couple of times and folded his arms over his chest again, watching the skull with an even more guarded expression. He couldn’t exactly understand what the thing was trying to say, especially since it kept throwing in those odd terms every now and then. He did pick up that it had apparently been awakened somehow, though by who and how, it evidentially didn’t know---at least that’s what it was saying. Somehow he didn’t think it was telling the whole truth.

Now that he thought about it, there was a strange odor wafting over from the floating skull (it called itself Barry, but really, Tristan didn’t think skulls ought to go around naming themselves, unless they were set on the head of a long staff and carried by a somewhat addle-headed person). It smelled like magic, and made his nose itch, but he decided not to say anything about it. Oddly enough, it was also coming from Corum, who didn’t seem to notice. Too faint for the others to pick up then, he thought with a shrug. Must not be anything special.

He bristled again when the skull asked for their names before suggesting it simply call them “berks.” Once again, he was completely clueless as to what the hell a berk actually was, but it sure didn’t sound too pleasant. Tia surprised him by jumping up and giving her name, apparently taking great pride in being a full grown woman. Well, that was one thing Tristan could definitely agree with. That time she’d kissed him during that spin the bottle game…she sure hadn’t seemed like a little girl then, that was for sure!

He shook himself from thoughts of kissing full grown women, especially since that he was what was currently irking him about Marz now. He spared a brief glare for the skull when Corum announced his name, but then quickly turned to Marz. Mr. Studly himself still seemed preoccupied with the skull, Isobel’s allurement momentarily forgotten. Tristan didn’t doubt he’d soon be eyeing her up again with the first chance that came along. He’d probably try to do more than that, too; after all, he’d pulled away on purpose just a few minutes ago, probably so she wouldn’t get the wrong (or rather, the right) idea about the two of them.

Flirting’s just part of my nature, Marz was always saying, but Tristan figured that being caught naked in bed making out with someone else was perhaps going a little beyond simple flirting. Okay, okay, so the Jeremy thing was a mistake, but sheesh, did he have to start acting like Tristan had the plague just because a pretty girl was in the room?

Staying here much longer wasn’t going to improve his mood anymore, so Tristan decided it was time to go. He was about to stand again when his sharp ears caught something Isobel was saying to Ravin. What?! Was she suggesting they actually take this stupid skull with them? But I can fly high and scout above and do all that other stuff he fumed silently, having missed the part about being small and unnoticeable. Of course, he also wouldn’t think to volunteer to do such a thing, unless he was feeling particularly brave (or angry, or jealous…seemed a lot of things were tipping him off these days.) Neither did either of them even know he was a dragon, but he failed to realize that, too.

Well, hell, if no one needed him, then so be it. Big raking deal, as Marz would say. Nobody needed a dragon on this expedition, except Marz, who wanted to ride on one, but he obviously would rather be doing a different sort of riding right now, so screw that, too.

“I’m gonna go outside to get ready,” he said, turning to Marz. He’d meant to suggest to the whole table that they start preparing to leave, though it hadn’t quite worked out. He wasn’t sure if the queen was supposed to be here when they left or not, but he kind of wanted to change before everyone got there. “You coming?” he asked, and before he could stop his tongue, his eyebrow came together and he shot another dark look at Isobel. “If you’re still too mortified to even touch me, you can just wait for her to sprout wings instead.”

Bad Azulltris chided the ever present voice in his head, but he growled at it and sniffed angrily. Well, it’s his fault, anyway.

~*~*~*~*~

Rowan’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw the flying skull sweep into the room. Fortunately, they stayed firmly in their sockets, which was a good thing, he figured, since such a thing would have been fairly unattractive, if not downright gross. He’d probably have a pretty hard time practicing his thieving skills, too, if he didn’t have any eyeballs. Hmm, and it’d definitely put a damper on his fighting abilities, too…

He grinned, falling out of his weird reverie. That skull sure talked a lot! Rowan decided he liked him, if just for that. Too many of the people in this group were a little on the reserved side, and would rather hold their tongues than share in a decent conversation. Course, having a conversation would be a real challenge with this guy, since he never seemed to shut up!

Tristan’s angry request for an explanation startled Rowan, since he wasn’t used to seeing the dragon react so…well, react period. Must be that other kid he was hanging around that was rubbing off on him. Lucky him, he thought with a chuckle, since Marz was one kid he wouldn’t mind rubbing up against every now and then. But not only would Laurel have his hide if he somehow managed to break the two up, but Marz never did seem to warm up to him, which would make a little one on one under the sheets a little difficult.

He turned his eyes to Isobel instead, once again intrigued by the striking beauty of the exotic newcomer. He stopped staring at her so hard, since she didn’t seem to like it, and he had no intentions of making her hate him by any means. But shit, it was difficult not to stare, especially after all the crap he’d been going through. First Tia ignored him for Corum, then he mucked up his attempts to invite Sarra to his bed. Not to mention the fact that the only girl who seemed to want any of his personal attention was nearly thirty years his senior!

He perked up when Tia leapt to her feet, loudly declaring that she was a “fully grown woman,” and not just a boy with a girl’s face. “Well, everybody knows that,” he said, giving his cute little friend an appreciative smile. He’d watched with a mixture of amusement and intense appreciation as she tried to stuff her shirt a few seconds ago with napkins before ripping them out and tossing them at him of all people. He wondered if she might be mad about something, and decided the best way to find out was to ask.

“What’s the matter, kiddo?” he asked, giving her another smile. But she turned her nose up at him, completely ignoring him. This didn’t serve to annoy him one bit, but to urge him on to pester her even more. “Come on, Tia, you can tell me. You know you can. I’m your buddy Rowan, your sula-whatever.”

He grinned when a smile came slowly to her face, and knew she must have just thought of something to make her very pleased. “What?” he asked, no longer interested in his previous question. “What are you smiling for, huh? What’s so funny, Tia?”

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