It was such a rush when everything started happening. Everyone in a frenzy as lialfos seemed enter the village. What made her find out how was how she is witnessing a hylian guard try to extinguish himself with the help of another. Eyes wide she was now coming face to face with the large as her catalyst was summoned. The device floating beside her before slaying the large lizard that charged at her. She wasn’t really supposed to help as fate was to decide what would happen to these people but this felt too cruel not to.
Yet she foresaw this. But she didn’t foresee the man who was now fighting at her side. Fate had ways of surprising her especially with the heat that soon engulfed an empty home. She can already feel herself drying up as she tries to put out the fire with different spells. Stumbling back her own back soon met that of the strangers.
“Theres just a few more left, are you prepared?” She asked looking up at him. She’s sucking in a deep breath from her gills as she swallows thickly.
ᘺ icked’s keen eyesight had fell upon the glow in the distance, he knew civilization could not create such a smoke filled warmth -like that.
Flames licking the skyline, consuming anything and everything within their chaotic path of destruction.
The realization sent a jolt of electric charge down his spine, igniting each vertebra, successfully igniting the DraGoon’s plan of action.
Using a mad combination of the element of Air and Fire he propelled himself towards the devastation with one goal in mind; save life.
Clever enough to fly straight down a farmers canal that siphoned off of a river he called upon Water. Crafting a wave to rise and crest over several buildings rooftops. Fire and water met, sizzling with the crackles of steam but at least homes were saved.
He jumped right into the fray, finding himself alongside another who had some sort of magical abilities as well? No matter, they were doing what they did best and it was saving lives and or the lively hood of others.
Wicked’s cloven hoof kicked at a feed trough of water, shattering it and releasing the Water to follow the sorcerers direction. With a sweep of his hand, he sent it swirling about, elegantly dousing flame after flame. Extinguishing the heated adversity with --->style.
He glanced back to see if she’d been watching him but a lick of aggressive flame found something highly flammable, flaring upwards out of control, after a small explosion. Wicked ducked and then side stepped, coming back to back, with the stranger who’d been brave and selfless enough to help.
He snickered at her words, amused before quipping. ❝ Are you? You cannot slow down on meh now. We almost have it beat！❞
Wicked came across this dragon when he was very young, a hatchling clinging to life after it’s Mother and her nest had been vanquished by another. Empathy struck a nerve and Wick took in the beasty, and raising it to adulthood. The creature thrived under the attention given and formed an unshakable bond.
Over the years the duo have explored the vast expanses of space together. Completed missions and or helped other beings, aliens and creatures out of one misfortune or another.
Years passed and Serpentine reached adulthood, settled down to raise his own broad with a mate. However he considers Wick a Parental Figure, there is a great respect between the two and admiration. Serpentine will still accompany Wick on his travels from time to time but he always returns to his home planet once the adventure is completed.
His fire is corrosive and when unleashed it resembles his eye color. A swirl of rust and cobalt destruction.
He prefers moderately cool planets with water being a main source of great comfort.
He cannot speak but understands what is being said by tones, gestures and repetition.
He is rather quick on his feet, agile and skilled flyer.
He is rather intelligent, loyal and brave.
Takes him a while to warm up to strangers. He is prone to chomping limbs —with affection. Most of the time.
He has teeth but they are retracted until the little needle daggers are needed.
Scratches, scritches and praise will get you a cuddly dragon. He likes to nuzzle and snuggle, do be warned.
Protective of Wicked, who is basically his surrogate parent and saved his life.
My favorite ship dynamic is "they're both extremely stupid in completely different ways and extremely smart in completely different ways, but rarely is any of that useful because they just get extra double stupid when together"
Wylan wouldn’t call himself an investigator, but when you work like he has for this many years, and that work involves tracking others. You pick up a few things. It serves the dual purpose of helping you find other people while keeping them from finding you back. Because word can get around when you’re hunting down someone to kill them. And with a vendetta as large as the former pit fighter? It’s only a matter of time before he lets something slip. Best keep that going as long as he can.
For the moment he’s much less expressive, even with the armored mask disregarded. His arms are tense at his sides as his head flicks from one side to the other. He’s told a couple lies so far to the other individual- probably another bounty hunter, if he had to guess. Not his problem, at least not yet. There’s less room to worry if they’re not out to kill him, if that’s to even be trusted.
Beep. Beep. Silent noises back into his ear piece, impatience and frustration building as it becomes apparent… damnit. “Fuck. Not here.” He mutters under his breath. A slap to the ear disengages the visor and reveals Wylan’s features again, a hand through his hair and a content visage as he regards Wicked. Just as he found no evidence of his contact, there was no evidence of his distaste.
“In case you haven’t noticed, this is a crime scene to be. We could have investigators or security looping around at any moment. This is all pretty fresh. Fortunate we’re not in one of the cleaner stations otherwise they’d have bots or sentries already going to work. Nobody wants to afford that kind of thing around here.” Neck is cracked, hands are twisted.
Despite all this, wouldn’t it be rude to turn down the invitation.
“Oh? And what’s this? Don’t think I’ve seen it before.” Wylan plucks up the cup, inspecting the contents with a sharp eye. “If we get company maybe they’ll be happy to share as well. Never know what kind of people you run into at a place like this.” The two of them being the case and point.
ᘺ icked would not label himself as a hunter but when you are given one assignment after another, it begins to sink into the marrow of your bones. He’d become so good at sniffing out shifty scoundrels, he’d acquired a reputation, unfortunately. To add to the conundrum, of his existence, his visage made him stick out like a sore thumb therefore he evolved. Becoming more like a phantom. Haunting his targets. That being said, this former pit fighter was turning out to be a complete pain in the arse.
Survival tickled at the back of the Sorcerer’s brain. Why was this bloke here? Was this mo-fo a bounty hunter too? What if they had the same target? That idea was enough to grit the teeth, for dam sure.
A beeping noise broke through Wicked’s thought process, his ears twitched, picking up on the tones of agitation within the humans voice leaving him to wonder with suspicion.
At the comment an amused chuckled escaped, Wicked lifted his right arm and feigned being a keeper of a timepiece. ❝ According to my calculations we have nine minutes and forty five seconds until the orchestra of law enforcement comes with a staccato of flashing lights, tazzer rifles and blue starched suits. ❞ Of course this was one of those questionable establishments on the outskirts of respectable civilization. Apathy and lawlessness abounded within the sector, hence the reason Mr. Pit Fighter popped in to douse his thirst.
Already downing a gulp, the Chimera of the Cosmos turned to the side, to tilt his mask at an angle. The discreet act was done to avoid divulging just how handsome he was under that damn mask.
❝ I’d like to call it Cobalt Death. ❞ He squeaked, hoarsely after the burn of alcohol lit his taste buds on fire. The sizzle felt like wildfire sweeping down the throat, lava sweeping into the gullet, only to pool in the stomach all in one fell swoop. The high concentration would have been better cut or diluted with something but for now -->straight shot of death. Hot & Spicy~
❝ Ha！❞ Was blurted out, watching and waiting for the humans reaction of such a strong liquor. ❝ We takin’ it with. ❞ He added, wagging a finger in the others direction.
❝ You have a point. The types of ‘people’ you run into places like this can be very questionable,❞ An up and down glance was given to the other.
❝ Thank goodness I did not poison your drink eh? ❞ He shared mischievously, literally waiving off the concept, with his hand, for he jested entirely.
Her expectations had no limits— she had in fact ( none ) at all. Unable to help herself, the young traveler could not hold back when it came to offer her belongings.
The voice’s source has pierced through her senses, igniting her spirit with curiosity. She left her pastries at her side for a moment, burying a hand in the grass & taking the other towards her face just to pick some hairs & accommodate them behind her ear. Along the noises that traveled across the atmosphere to touch her hearing senses, there was ( not ) any trace that could speak about this entity as a ghost, thence an option left remained. This creature was hesitating, wasn’t it ?
——❝Ohhh !! Nooo, no !! You are not, I do promise.❞
A light chuckle followed her way as she used the hand near her face to make a subtle wave. Interacting with someone else did never mean an intrusion for her. In fact, she appreciated to experiment such pleasant moments at the side of someone else, even if they were a mere stranger.
——❝It does not only smell that way, but its taste is glorious. Not many hands can craft such delights. Come on, do not be shy. I can get more tomorrow. Besides, things are better when you have some companion to enjoy them.❞
ᘺ icked perked up at her words, they chimed with cheery promise. Soothing any hesitation left prickling at his nerves.
❝ Whelp, I am not one to pass up on a free meal！❞
Permission granted, the Chimera of the Cosmos stepped forward. Decidedly walking a slow, easy pace as to not alarm the being before him and then taking a seat in the plush, pillow of spring-green grass by her side.
He inhaled a long drag of the air dampened with the scent of moist soil and considered her words. Words that were undeniably lovely, friendly and welcoming however.
The moment of truth hovered.
❝ Hello! ❞ He blurted out giving a little wave of his taloned hand ever so casually and before she could scream in horror he piped up and shared his name.
❝ My name is Wicked, or Wick for short and you are？❞
Green eyes flicked up to where Wicked was, a bit startled. “Oh, hello there. Yes, I’m making some stew.” She smiled pleasantly, and motioned to a spot by the fire. “It’ll be ready soon, and there’s more than enough for the both of us. Please, take a seat by the fire, it’s chilly tonight.”
Dumping the carrots into the pot, she began adding seasonings; salt, thyme, and juniper berries. She then poured in some water, and hooked the pot up over the fire. Now they waited.
“My name is Bright Sapphire, but you can just call me Sapphire. What’s your name, stranger? What brings you out here?” The Tabaxi smiled.
ᘺ icked stiffened, expecting a scream of ‘get the hell outta here’ or a WTF to erupt from the other being so dutifully making a tasty meal, within her own camp.
But instead, he was greeted with a beguiling friendliness that he’d have to admit was refreshing.
❝ Really？ ❞ His disbelief still present -despite the fact his feet moved without his consent, straight to the spot she’d indicated. HIs hunger insisted and overruled caution.
❝ Thank you. ❞ The word tumbled from behind the barricade of his mask, a hushed expression of gratitude while his mind made a mental note; he’d had to repay this stranger before him somehow, someway.
The Sorcerer of the Stars soon found himself leisurely basking in the scents that wafted on the steamy air while the stranger shared her name and became an acquaintance. ❝ Nice to meet you. My name is Wicked or Wick is ok too. ❞
At her question his swished his long, onyx colored tail and then reached for it. Content to pick out cosmic burrs and space particles that had accumulated during flight. ❝ Well, I was chasing after a planetary conjunction. Gotta be at the right place at the right time yah know. And you? Is this planet your home？❞
His eyes would narrow with the bit of teasing, just to roll his eyes and laugh a little. His torso going back upright, with his right hand going up and rubbing the side of his head. Oh boy, seems he has a wild one.
“I don’t fuck on the first date, sorry.” He’d joke, at the mention of taking a picture. And formerly to ‘get his fill’. the Hawk would just shake his head, even if playing along in his own ‘brash’ ways. Just tapping his talon on the ground beneath them and eyes still on this ‘DraGoon.’
“That like a Dragon who’s a Goon? Sounds like a play on words here…” Soon his head crooks into his hand that was rubbing his cheek. Just still staring this guy down. “But, to answer your far back question, I’m an Aarakocra. Basically just ‘Bird People’ I guess you could say.”
“I’m specifically an Eagle-Hawk variant.”
ᘺ icked scoffed, out loud. ❝ Where was I when this became a date？❞
He began to shake his head, back and forth, feigning disappointment or something like that. ❝ No fuck on the first date？❞
His hand gestures to his mask before a head tilt to the right. ❝ This is my disappointed face. ❞
An amused snicker escapes.
❝ Truth be told, I had a feeling. That’s why I said take a picture. ❞ A casual shrug of his shoulders transpired just before he took a step forward, no longer content to stand still.
❝ Add it to your spank-bank collection. ❞ He hissed under his breath.
At the question about what he was Wicked nonchalantly countered. ❝ No relation. If you wanna play with definitions, count a Goon as outlandish and eccentric. Beyond that, I’d say the version you paint of me in your mind is not my responsibility. ❞
Soon he found himself indulging this Aarakocra, listening while walking a lazy circle around him. Hands tucked behind his back, at ease before questions piled up.
❝ A variant? So like Earths species of birds? Like a parakeet or something really epic, like a crow or a majestic owl？ ❞
Now behind the other creature, Wicked skidded to a halt, staring.
❝ What the hell are you wearing -er or barely wearing？❞ He motioned to the others garments, specifically the ratty britches.
❝ Bruh, we gotta take you shopping！Buy you some damn pants！ Instead of having this convo of word games. Playing with dungeons and DraGoons, ‘nd bird people. ❞