From the belly of the beast...

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ShadowclawFC's picture
ShadowclawFC
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Hey, any excuse to draw something. I need the practice anyway. -doing some preliminary sketches-

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^_^

((Sounds good to me. I'm actually about to head in-game, so my responses will stop for a bit here in a forums. Mind if I add you via friend-code?))

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Oh right, thegame... I forgot I was already in it XD;;;; Yeah, go ahead and add me~ I like having friends ^^

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((I can't run the game and

((I can't run the game and other things at the same time because my computer will throw a fit. XD

 

All right! I'll be in the game here in a bit. Turns out, I gotta do something really quick first that I promised my roommate I would do before she gets home from work.))

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No worries, I'll be on and

No worries, I'll be on and off all day.

 

Got a good preliminary sketch done. Shark looks like he has an evil grin XD;;;; I'll need to reposition the mout a little, I think. 

I'm going to scan it after a while (a little later today) and then draw over it digitally. 

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The Joshinator
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Dang! Y'all are FAST!

((XD heheh... I was gonna suggest drawing Sharksneeze with his mouth open in a roar, as per Mudslide's big long post detailing his reaction to Hammerstein's mace. He needs to look scary beyond all reason! XD I have no idea how much harder that is, though... Also, keep in mind that in the series, the Whispering Death is even larger than in the game; I believe it was 90-100 feet long, so roughly twenty times longer than Mudslide is tall. Yikes!))

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Yeah, I'm doing Shark first then I'll add in Mud accordingly. And a fierce looking Whispering Death isn't exactly hard to do XD they're scary just as normal looking

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Woah! I gotta admit- Shark is

Woah! I gotta admit- Shark is the cutest whispering death I've ever seen! <3

... I mean- the best looking! xD But realy- he is awesome! <3

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Insert Something Hilarious Here

((I don't think Sharksneeze would appreciate being called "cute" (by anyone other than Mudslide), but I do see your point. And thanks!))

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Insert Something Hilarious Here

((I'm really excited for your drawing, Shadow! 8D

 

Also, are we taking a break from RP'ing or am I somehow missing someone's response? If I am, I'm really sorry! <_<;;))

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You're not missing anything...

((I just got off my ten-hour shift at work, so I can sit down and do some typing finally to get caught up. I've been using my phone all day... Coming soon!))

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Eheh, I think it's suposed to be my turn, but I can't for the life of me think of what to write x.x

 

Also, does the chat not work for you in-game? It was a little awkward trying to communicate by jumping around and chasing off nadders ^^;;;;;;;

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That explains it!

((I wasn't sure, Joshinator. I kept checking the thread and couldn't tell. I forgot how eager you get waiting for RP responses. <_<;;

 

And sadly, the chat seems to be acting up for me all over again. I can't even send you a message, Shadow. I tried to on several occasions to make it work. Nothing I tried was a success. And yeah, that one girl on the pink Nadder was getting on my last nerve.))

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No kidding. She kept shooting at me, then started shooting at you and Shark. I got realllly fed up. That's why I started chasing her around (accidentally ran into flight club at one point though ^^;; )

 

Sucks that the chat is so messed up >.< I actually had to re-log just to make it work on my end. I never knew a simple chat could have so many problems!

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-_-

((I noticed she was shooting at me after my failed attempt to send you a message. I tried to click on her to add her to my ignore list to see if that would make her go away, but she never sat still long enough. I started shooting back at her, but then she tried sneaking around me to keep on pestering me while I messed with the chat-box. Nearly fell off the cliff in my endeavors to get away! OTL

 

I didn't try that unfortunately. I know what you mean. If it weren't for the forums, I doubt we'd be communicating at all.))

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Uh...

((I have re-read it and I can see why Harmmerstein would be uncomfortable. I feel really bad now... <_<;;
 

I'm still not used to it. As for Mudslide's accent, you're pretty close. I'm actually from the south (as in for the U.S.) and I'm drawing on the way people have talked around me my entire life to create her accent. I figured it would be a neat way of making her unique amongst her fellow Vikings. XD
 

By the way, I'm in the boat as you. I absolutely adore the way Hammerstein is viewing the pair's relationship. It puts it in a nice perspective if you asked me. ^_^
 

And Mudslide would catch up to Hammerstein if Sharksneeze would let her!))
 

Hammerstein's persistance to remain nearby didn't go unnoticed by the lumbering Death. Between keeping a close eye on the young man and trying to give his full attention to his rider, the winged serpent eventually caved and gave into Mudslide's wishes. The Whispering Death lowered back down to eye-level with the petite Viking as the last of the ruckus dwindled into nothing more than a very faint hum that only Mudslide could hear.

 

Satisfied with the change in behavior, Mudslide let the last of her giggles out as Hammerstein responded to her offer. She blinked a few times, perplexed by his decision, but soon broke into a smile of appreciation. "That's mighty kind of ya, 'Stein!" Feeling like that wasn't enough, the brunette cleared her throat. "Thanks... a lot," she continued earnestly.

 

Hammerstein was right though; Sharksneeze was finding some trust to be placed in him. The Whispering Death found he didn't view the man as big of a threat now that he wasn't waving a mace around. His Monsterous Nightmare hadn't shot at him either for that matter, which meant a lot to the dragon as he'd grown to assume all other dragon species had it out for him.

 

And then the mayhem started up all over again with the arrival of Inna and Rosethorn.

 

To be honest, Mudslide was more than a little perplexed as to what was going on. She couldn't see much beyond the spined coils that were writhing up all around her. That movement along perterbed her, but nowhere near as much as the resounding bellow that drowned all all noise. Well, almost everything. The brunette could clearly pick out the Whispering Death's iconic whisper lingering within the explosive percussion. The only thing she was able to determine was the source of Sharksneeze's sudden change in behavior was the green Nadder. She was unable to determine the dragon's intentions, but judging by the lack of physical reactions out of Shadow and Hammerstein, she assumed the new dragon wasn't threatening her.

 

Sharksneeze had been on edge before the Nadder and hyper-active rider had first appeared and now he was feeling like he'd been shoved over the edge and overwhelmed. Mudslide was aware of this and carefully maneuvered herself to turn around amongst the tightening, scaled threads covering in spines, which is a lot harder to do than it might initially sound. Spikes poked her uncovered arms and a few managed to dug into the fabric of her pants before she was finally able to face the Whispering Death's opened maw of spinning teeth looming overhead. "SHARKSNEEZE!" she yelled as loud as she possibly could to be heard over the overpowering thunder just mere feet above her head. But it seemed the dragon wasn't listening and his spines began to raise the longer the Nadder lingered nearby.

 

Fearing the worst, Mudslide quickly slung both of her bony arms around the Whispering Death's lengthy body and buried her face into his smoother underbelly scales.
 

"Please..." she whispered with her face still hidden.

 

Whether Sharksneeze heard her or not is unknown. However, the snarling serpent booming growls slowly quieted down. His infamous whisper continued to tick at everyone's eardrums, but his spines did begin to lower to a less hostile position. Yet the coils surrounding his rider remained as rigid as ever. The rows of teeth continued to spin as well. Sharksneeze had clearly begun to reach his limits. Two Monsterous Nightmares and their riders was boarderlining too much for him to take in at once. Adding in a Nadder and her respective rider was going a bit too far for the Whispering Death's comfort zone.

 

"It's okay..." Mudslide tried again, this time with only her forehead pressed into the dragon's underbelly.
 

Sharksneeze somehow heard her this time around. The Whispering Death's snarls began to subdue to a low rumble and his sharpened fangs spun at a much slower pace. His spines lowered to their normal position as well. The whisper however remained at its full blast. It was a start, but the Whispering Death was far from calm anymore.
 

Keeping her left arm wrapped tightly around Sharksneeze's lower abdomen, Mudslide attempted to looked over her shoulder and wave to the newcomer. "Back up a bit!" she called while trying to maintain her own air of calm for her dragon's sake.

 

((I combined a quick response to your last post at the beginning, Josh. Hopefully that means we're all officially back on the same page here. And jeez... this thing is a little long. OTL))

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Mayhem? Did someone say mayhem? *devious grin*

((As I said before, it's a rare treat to read an off-the-cuff piece of improvised writing that good. I'm consistently blown away by your immersive storytelling and impeccable word choice. Ohmygosh, I just can't get over how well-written and expressive your posts are! When/if this finishes up, I am SO putting it all together as one cohesive narrative and posting it in the fanfiction forum!

 

I thought you might be from the States, judging by your linguistic usage outside roleplaying. Thick accents like that are obviously hard to render in text and even harder to translate into the correct-sounding dialect on the other end... ^_^ I like the uniqueness - pardon the pun, but it adds some character to your character.

 

Well, whatcha waitin' fer? Hurry up an' drag thet overgrown meat grinder over here! X-P (I think that's my new favorite nickname for him... XD) ))

 

With Sharksneeze's rider otherwise occupied, Hammerstein felt it was his responsibility to apprise the newcomer of the situation. "Hi Inna, I'm Mace... uh, nice to meet you!" he yelled awkwardly over the Whispering Death's vicious bellowing. "He doesn't want to hurt you, he's just protecting his trainer and he doesn't like being around other people or dragons." Even as the volume level slowly died down, Hammerstein had to keep his voice raised to be heard, and was acutely aware that his attempt at comforting Inna was decidedly not being validated by the snarling beast a few yards away. 

 

Turning back to said beast, Hammerstein could almost make out Mudslide desperately clutching the Whispering Death's body, still surrounded by the colossal dragon's protective coils. He couldn't tell what she was saying or doing, but whatever it was, it seemed to be having an effect. They say 'twas beauty that tamed the beast, and never was it more true than at this moment. Though nowhere remotely near relaxed, Sharksneeze quieted down enough that Hammerstein could at least speak normally. "We were just headed over to the Wilderness Hot Springs to get cleaned up, and let Sharksneeze here dig a hole to have some alone time in. The elders won't let Whispering Deaths dig tunnels on school grounds, so they develop hair-trigger tempers anyways. Let's just say we've all had a pretty long day..."

 

"Back up a bit!" came a voice from inside the prickly pile of dragon, and Mudslide's head followed shortly thereafter as Sharksneeze gradually relaxed his grip on his trainer. "Mudslide, this is Inna and her dragon Rosethorn. Inna, this is Mudslide, and you've already met Sharksneeze." The group followed Mudslide's instructions and backed even farther away, but Sharksneeze unexpectedly resumed a low growl in addition to the now-familiar whispering. It was Shadowclaw's turn to be perplexed; she exchanged a confused look with Hammerstein, wondering why the irate dragon got antsy again when they backed off. Their puzzled expressions quickly morphed into looks of dread when they realized the source of the Whispering Death's irritation. Off in the distance, a pair of Monstrous Nightmares were playfully chasing each other and nipping at each other's tails, one a light greyish tan and the other brick-orange with black spots. And they were getting closer. Fast.

 

((Aaaand... cue the mayhem!!! BWAHAHAHAAAH!!!))

 

Hammerstein's heart dropped into his boots as he took off running toward his dragon, desperate to prevent yet another outburst. Glancing to the side, he saw Shadowclaw pulling ahead of him. The look in her eyes, which he was sure mirrored his own, spoke where words didn't have to: they had to turn their dragons around. NOW.

 

((Now THIS oughtta be good! XD I missed my dragon, and I felt like you guys needed a curveball. Mudslide, we'd better get Sharkie out of there soon or a volcanically active Whispering Death may be in the near future! O_o))

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Ohhh.... censored.

Shadowclaw knew there wasn't much chance of stopping the Nightmares by running towards them - they would just be ploughed over. So, she slid to a halt and rised her arm, slightly bent, towards StormFalcon. She let out a loud, shrill whistle, probably the loudest sound she ever made, and motioned for Storm to fly high. Miraculously, he heard her and saw the motion, and quickly took off, wings flapping hard to gain height. He didn't know why she had given him the command, but she had, and he knew to listen. Relieved, she turned her attention to Maceforge and his rider, hoping beyond hope Hammerstein could get him under control. The way Sharksneeze was now...well, things had gotten messy very fast, not including the dirt and mud that still covered Briarwolf and Mudslide both...

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What in tarnation have you unleashed!?

((I'm not really sure how to respond to the praise other than a simple, "Thank you." I used to RP all the time, but it's kinda gone to the way-side for whatever reason in the past year or two. I really missed it. Writing one-shot drabbles doesn't have anywhere near the same effect as RP'ing with other people. And if you really want to, that's fine by me! Just post a link here or something when/if you do that, okay?

 

Yeppers. Accents are a serious pain to render into written form. I learned that the first time I ever tried to write as Gobber the Belch. And thanks! I'm glad it's working. ^_^

 

It's a little hard to drag something that's AT LEAST 80+ feet long! (And I really like that "nickname" too. XD)

 

And dang-it, Josh! You just had to sprinkle some chaos into this already hectic mess!))

 

Mudslide was a bit too preoccupied with getting her dragon to calm down, so she missed out on Hammerstein's abrupt introductions almost entirely. She was, however, able to catch the newcomer's name which she put to immediate use. "Inna! Back up!" she repeated in the hopes of getting through to the stranger that the Whispering Death wasn't fond of dragons being within his personal space of about twenty-or-so feet.

 

As the other Vikings began to back up, Mudslide allowed herself a brief moment of respite. However, the downtime didn't last more than a few minor seconds before she found her breathing space being invaded further by the winged serpent's strengthening grip as Sharksneeze's coils tightened to the point she could barely move from the waist down.
 

Not good. Not good. Not good!

 

The brunette couldn't see much over the scaled tendrils, but she could clearly hear the increasing volume and urgency of Sharksneeze's snarls. How could she not? It was the only thing she could hear! About the only other things she could make out where the Whispering Death's renowned whisper was being drowned out by the threatening growls and her own heartbeat racing in her ears.

 

Sharksneeze crained his head back as Stormfalcon flew overhead. The Whispering Death was getting antsy with the Nightmare being airborn and reacted by re-raising his spines and spreading his own short wings. Stormfly didn't seem to be even interested in him, but the scaled serpent wasn't taking any chances anymore. He was anxious and refusing to back-down.

 

He. Had. Enough.

 

Maceforce was still coming at them full-throttle. Sharksneeze didn't understand the difference in demeanor between "playing" and "fighting" as he hadn't socialized with other dragons much beyond being shot at for no reason. Well, two could play at that game.

 

With his hackles raising, Sharksneeze rose his head further and began to build up the gas required for his fire. He hadn't trained much with it as he was still a young dragon and it showed as the smoke creeped out his flared nostrils like swarm of cockroaches coming out of hiding. Mudslide smelt the smoke long before she had any idea what the Whispering Death was up to. It wasn't like Sharksneeze to revert to his fire for any reason, so she instantly knew something serious was going on. Had the others not backed up far enough? Or was there something else?

 

There really wasn't much time to think. Digging into her meager amounts of physical strength, Mudslide attempted to climb the Whispering Death's abdomen, using his spines running down the sides of his underbelly as a means to pull and brace herself. The movement wasn't enough to draw Sharksneeze's attention as he was too focused on building up enough pressure to create the unique rings of fire his species was known for. Mudslide barely had her shoulders viewable above the coils when the grinding of rows of sharp teeth came to a sudden stop. A chill ran down Mudslide's spine. She felt paralyzed at such a crucial moment.

 

A stream of fire short forth from Shark's gaping maw, corkscrewed by spirals of white-hot flames.

 

Being such a young Whispering Death, Sharksneeze did not yet possess the control over his fire that an adult would. Yes, he was nearly at his full length, but given that he rarely used his fire, it wasn't something he found second-nature quite yet. As a result, his accuracy was far from the best it could have been and he put too much juice behind the blazing inferno. The devouring embers hit the ground a few feet directly in front of Maceforce and quickly spread through and consumed the dry grass like water in a riverbed.

 

At the sight of the flames, Mudslide snapped out of her incapacitated state.

 

Unfortunately, it was to scream at the top of her minuscule lungs.
 

Mudslide hated fire. She could barely tolerate it to cook, and that was with the flames being relatively low and in a controlled space. But this? This was anything but controlled! The brunette's shriek startled Sharksneeze into silence. The colossal basilisk lowered his head in an attempt to nudge her onto his saddle, but the Viking was having none of it. Her grip tightened from where she dangled just beneath his wings and her face was buried into his underbelly once more. In her fright, her helmet had been knocked off her head without her noticing.

 

Mudslide would never admit (not even herself), but she was as flighty as a rabbit on the run from a pack of hungry wolves.
 

Concerned and spooked, Sharksneeze flared his bantam wings and lowered his coils in preparation for flight. The fires weren't spreading far as there wasn't much grass for the flames to consume, but they were still slinking around like snakes in trees. Sharksneeze didn't know why his rider screamed and seemed so afraid, but he knew he needed to move away in order for her calm down again. It seems the tables have turned between dragon and rider.

 

With a few quick flaps of his narrow wings, Sharksneeze became airborn by just a few centimeters and backed up several feet from the flames. As soon as he touched down again, the Whispering Death lowered himself once more and recontructed the inflexible coils around his rider up to her quivering shoulders. She refused to pull her face away from his scales and remained as tight-lipped down as a marble statue.

 

By now, the flames had run out of things to burn and dwindled down into nothing more than a few flickering embers. Sharksneeze no longer growled, but his hackles and spines remained raised out of reflex. Mudslide wasn't even paying attention to the world around her as she started to shake under the strain of her tightened muscles. Sharksneeze rumbled quietly, trying to rouse the little Viking to apologize for scaring her, but she wasn't having any of it. The Whispering Death raised his head slightly, wondering if one of the other humans was still around. He didn't like the idea, but his distressed rider needed help. Would one of them be willing?

 

In the chaos that had ensued, Sharksneeze couldn't see the others. Had they turned-tail and fled? Were they finally keeping their distance? Were they mad at him? Shaking his head to dismiss the questions, the Whispering Death lowered his spines barely half and inch before releasing a low moan to see if anyone was even listening.

 

((I'm literally making this up as I go... OTL))

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BWAHAHAAA! IT'S ALIVE!!! Wait... what have I... ohcrap. RUN!!!

((That's it... I give up. The English language just ran out of capacity to describe what I'm reading. O_O I don't understand how it's even possible... If you somehow manage to do that post one better, I might suddenly cease to exist in a flash of quantum fluctuation as I'm sucked into a parallel universe. 

 

 

You don't have to respond to the praise - I don't know what I'd say either - but you understand I can't stop complimenting your writing if you keep churning out writing worth complimenting. XD

And yes... yes I did. ))

 

Hammerstein's heart pounded in time with his footfalls as he raced toward his dragon. Whatever happened, he had to keep Maceforge away from Sharksneeze. He didn't notice that Shadow had stopped running until he heard a shrill whistle behind him and saw Stormfalcon suddenly launch into flight. Why did I never think of that?! No time, he had to stop his dragon before Sharksneeze went berserk... Wait, why is he not moving? Maceforge slid to a stop when the Nightmare he was playing with flew off; Hammerstein slid to a stop when his dragon started running again, full tilt, straight at him. That's odd... why does he look mad? Why does he look REALLY mad?! Maceforge unleashed a frightening roar every bit as powerful as that of the Whispering Death, one that Hammerstein had never heard before and never wished to hear again. He started to back up, now worried more about the raging beast in front of him than the one behind. "Mace?! What's going on? Mace, stop! You're scaring -" Maceforge was bearing down on his trainer with a vicious snarl, and showed absolutely zero inclination to slow down.

 

Two things registered simultaneously in Hammerstein's adrenaline-honed mind as he ducked to the ground. One, Maceforge gave a single forceful thrust of his wings, leaping over his trainer before skidding to a halt just beyond him. Two, Sharksneeze had fallen disturbingly quiet, which could only mean one thing.

 

A sizzling torus of white-hot fire came rocketing out of the spiked colossus and scorched the ground a few short feet in front of Maceforge.

 

Hammerstein stood in slack-jawed shock as the reality of what had just happened dropped into his consciousness like a ton of bricks. Still coated in now-dry Nightmare saliva, he would have lit up faster than dried grass in a forest fire had even a spark reached him. He wasn't sure what or who Sharksneeze had fired at, but Maceforge had somehow seen it coming and raced to protect him. The aggression, he realized, wasn't directed at him but at the Whispering Death, and piggybacking on that insight was the realization that Maceforge was still standing there growling ferociously at the other dragon. 

 

"Mace, calm down!" Hammerstein shouted as his mind snapped to the present, but the Monstrous Nightmare was too busy keeping both reptilian eyes firmly on Sharksneeze, hackles raised and tail swishing back and forth slowly, a low rumble continously emanating from deep inside him. "MACE! DOWN!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, concerned less for the enormous winged serpent and more for his own dragon. He'd never seen Maceforge like this before, and wasn't sure just what his overprotective reptile would do or how far he'd go. "It's all right, Mace. I don't know what's going on, but a deathmatch is not the way to find out, okay?" Hammerstein stroked the dragon's neck and head, and he relaxed his aggressive posture slightly, but the low rumble persisted.

 

A low, plaintive moan caught his attention. Having placated his own dragon for the moment, Hammerstein turned around to face the Whispering Death. Mudslide hung from just below his wings, her arms clutching his swarthy body and her face buried in his soft belly, her small body quivering and wracked by sobs. Sharksneeze looked distraught; he had backed away from the commotion and tried to gently cradle her with his elongated body, but no matter how much he wanted to he couldn't speak a single word of comfort to his trainer. Looking around for someone, anyone to talk to Mudslide, his dim white eyes seemed to report that everyone had fled but the Monstrous Nightmare. Great. Then he looked again, and through the blurriness saw someone standing beside the other dragon.

 

Hammerstein heard another sad moan from the distressed serpent as he searched for a friend, and saw the earnest plea for help on his face. "Mace, I need you to stay here. I'll be right back." Maceforge whined and tried to follow, beginning to growl again when he looked at the intimidatingly large Whispering Death, but Hammerstein was firm. "No, you stay HERE. Just... *sigh* trust me." The Nightmare sat down on the ground with a whine and a huff, but kept watching as his trainer slowly walked toward Sharksneeze. "Uhmm... Mudslide? Are you okay? What happened?"

 

((Haha, aren't we all? XD I feel like Dr. Victor Frankenstein right now... I had what I thought was a brilliant idea, went and created it, and then everything went sideways. Ah well, such is impromptu collaborative fiction. [DUMB QUESTION ALERT] By the way, what does OTL stand for?))

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Inna thanked Thor for the

Inna thanked Thor for the fact that dragons we're not afraid of fire- especialy Rosethorn. The young nadder did seem to be a little dissapointed at Sharksneeze for making the mess, and for the fact that he could get the students and other dragons in danger. She was a skilled fighter- she was ready to attack even tho she knew that a nadder had to chance againist a whispering death.

Inna on the other hand felt like she had made this whole mess. Why did she ran wiyhout thinking first? It's a whispering death, dang it! It's name said it all: "death". Perphaps she should leave? For some reason- she did not want to, she didn't feel like it was right... she made this chaos- she had to stop it...

The girl visited her brain trying to remember what she had learned about the whispering death- Boulder class, does tunneling, likes to have it's teeth brushed?

That could help IF Inna had time to get a giant brush, and a way to get to Sharksneezes teeth and not to get killed- in fact, this time, it didn't feel like this dragon would like someone touching it's teeth- so either way, it wasn't a good idea.

Next thing: his shot limit: two, which was not too much and meant the fire could end soon enough! And his firepower: ten, which meant it was a lot weaker than deadly nadders's. But how could it help now? After all the fire had started allready.

The last thing: sunlight- great! Of all things- blind spot, bad turning or anything else: It just HAD to be sunlight- at least in Sharksneezes case: the sun didn't realy seem to trouble him a lot. The day was cloudy (or not! ;D) and it was a perfect way for a whispering death to attack- or burn the entire school.

Inna tried to do something when she noticed that Rosethorn was running to attack Sharksneeze trying to do something- well, perphaps Rosethorn and Inna had something alike. But Inna did not want Rosethorn to attack- so while the nadder was running next to her she managed to touch Rosethorn's tail.

But an instinct made the nadder react quickly and she released her thorn's out before Inna could take her hands off.

"Ow!" Inna screamed. Only then she noticed that her hand still had a spike in it. She managed to take it out- but Great Thor- her hand was blooding awfully!

It was red like her hair and the pain realy was incredible. But Inna decidet to keep her mouth shut as hard as that was. Her dragon however watched her trainer with shock. It was obvious that she felt a lot of regret for what she had done so she decidet to stay with her owner instead of attacking. The nadder didn't care about the fire now- she looked at Inna with the "will-you-forgive-me?" look. And the girl would be ready to forgive Rosethorn for allmost anything. After a few heartbeats- it did not hurt as much- it was still blooding but the pain had more less stopped.

After a few minutes- the fire had stopped. Inna knew there had to be at least twenty students watching them but she didn't care- what mattered now was the fact that the flaming had stopped.

"Anybody? Are you okay? How may I help you?" Inna asked hoping someone would answer.

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...

((It's a person on their hands and knees. the O is the head, the T the torso and hands, and the L is the legs. OTL It took me a while to figure it out first time I saw it.

Also..what am I, a sack of potatoes??))

 

Shadowclaw was, luckily, out of range of the flames, though they still startled her. She had sent StormFalcon up high, very high, so at the moment he was just a winged speck circling above. She watched the next proceedings with an awkward feeling surrounding her - she wasn't good with this kind of stuff. But then she looked at Maceforge and knew she could do something. Quickly,she approached the orange and black dragon across the charred ground, seemingly immune to the heat still radiating up. She was, after all, a Monstrous Nightmare rider. 

"Don't worry," she called to Hammerstein, "I'll take care of him. Is she gonna be alright?"

While waiting for an answer, she reached up and touched a hand to Maceforge's snout, putting as much calm into the contact as she could. Though she didn't speak, she could manage to communicate somewhat with the dragon through her eyes, even though he wasn't her own.

It's okay, Maceforge. Sharksneeze won't hurt Hammerstein, he wants his help. Can't you see that Mudslide is in a troubled state? Hammerstein is trying to help her. Let him.

She wasn't sure if Maceforge could hear her thoughts, or just responded to her calming touch, but he relaxed his body and 'muttered' a little, as if to say 'I understand.' Sighing, Shadow sent another hand signal to StormFalcon, and the peregrine-colored Nightmare banked off to one side and landed on a precipice where he could still see her, but was mostly out of sight himself. She knew his presence would only bother Sharksneeze even more...

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The Joshinator
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Whoops... I'm sorry!

((I honestly meant to include you in my post, Shadowclaw, but by the time I finished the post I completely spaced. Would you rather deal with Maceforge or Mudslide and Sharksneeze? I'll edit it either way... >_< Not sure where Inna's at, or I'd involve her too... I have to do some editing anyway.))

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...

((Lol, it's fine. I said it in a teasing way, anyway (darn the lack of inflections for written words!) I'm a somewhat experienced roleplayer, been at it more-or-less constantly for the past... 8 or 9 years, now. I can handle just about anything that happens, and I know how to make things work. You could say I've seen it all, really))

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Mudslide
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Well don't you feel accomplished...

((I swear, that's not what I'm trying to do! I just love writing! I do it in my spare time. <_<;;
 

I'm glad you like it, but this is pretty normal for me. It's almost like a second-nature by now. And, to be honest, I'm just waiting until I break this site's character limit (if it even has one).
 

You seem to have no shame about it either.))
 

Sharksneeze was at a total loss. His rider was pretty much incompacitated and unable to explain the situation to him in her usually chipper voice. No laugh sprung forth from her vivacious lungs nor did Mudslide bare her teeth in comical expression that somehow signified happiness amongst humans. She made hardly a noise and her face was shielded from view with his scales. The dragon could feel her shaking faintly against his underbelly and her grip was far stronger than he was expecting, but that was literally all he could decipher from Mudslide.
 

He knew she had been fine up until he'd released his barely controlled flames. Was that what had frightened her so? Or was it something else? Whatever the cause, Sharksneeze had a sneaking suspicion it was his own fault. That thought alone caused a morose croon to slowly creep out of the depths of his sinking heart. The melancholy hum then bounced off the walls of his curved jaw, creating an echoing effect that sounded like a hundred ghosts crying out in death at once.
 

The Whispering Death's attention was drawn toward the growls of Maceforce, who was rather understandably peeved and feeling protective of Hammerstein. But the fight had left Sharksneeze as soon as he'd realized the distressed state Mudslide was lingering within. She didn't seem able (or even willing) to combat it on her own just yet.

 

Sharksneeze was at a complete and total loss on what to do to help her. So he looked out toward where he'd last seen the other Vikings, hoping for a sign that one of them would help. He looked up just in time to spot Hammerstein saying something to his Monsterous Nightmare before taking the first few steps toward him. The Whispering Death felt his hackles rise out of instinct, especially when Maceforce started to follow his rider with a growl already emanating from his lengthy muzzle. But Sharksneeze quickly recovered and forced his spines to lower when the Monsterous Nightmare obeyed his rider's pleas and remained behind.

 

Hammerstein had the Whispering Death's full attention now. He barely took notice of Stormfalcon's return, soon dismissing it from his thoughts once he realized that ashy-colored Nightmare was keeping his distance as per Briarwolf's request. Sharksneeze had long since lost track of Rosethorn as well, having all of his concentration being directed at the single young man who approached him unarmed.

 

While Sharksneeze didn't fully understand Hammerstein's words, he did recognize his reconciled tone and the fact that he was trying to speak to his rider. The afflicted moan of distress quieted down several decibals, but could still be heard rather clearly within the first several feet around his coiled body. The Whispering Death lowered his head, hoping to entice Mudslide into responding to the approaching young man by reminding her that she was safe and that he was still there to protect her should things go awry. His coils barely loosened, but did not lower in the slightest.

 

Mudslide, on her part, had managed to get herself under some sort of control again. She bit back a whimper by pressing her face further into Sharksneeze's scales. She could no longer detected any heat at her back as the flames died down from lack of materials to consume, which helped significantly in calming her down. The wail of depression that escaped her dragon vibrated all throughout his scaled body, making it impossible to be ignored. Mudslide felt terrible for worrying her companion and continued to hide her face in shame. But her mind remained frozen and unable to think beyond just getting herself away from the fire.
 

With a sudden jerk, Mudslide was wracked back to reality when she heard her name being called. The brunette sniffled against her will. She couldn't smell anything beyond the distinctly dragon smell of Sharksneeze and faint traces of smoke. But the voice persisted and drew her attention enough that she managed to peel her face away from the Whispering Death's underbelly. She squinted in the sudden brightness as she turned her head to partially unbury her face. Thankfully, she hadn't had her face covered for long and it was a normal, cloudy day by the school's standards. She blinked several times before turning her head more to see the outline of Hammerstein approaching from several feet away. Her pupils dilated slightly and her shoulders hunched up on either side of her head. Great. They just saw how much of a coward she was. So much for making new friends...

 

"Y-... yeah..." she stumbled over the simple word as if she was trying it out for the first time. There was no air of sillyness in her tone. It had been snuffed out by the flames not ten minutes prior. "What happened?" That's a good question! And it wasn't one Mudslide was eager to admit to either. But she couldn't think of a logical explanation and the brunette had never been the best at lying, so she wasn't about to try now in her shaken state.

 

Her grip refused to slacken despite the coils covering her from the chest down. Slowly, she tried to peel herself away from the Whispering Death's abdomen, but her body refused to obey. Her muscles felt strained but even that wasn't enough to loosen her vicegrip. For his part, Sharksneeze didn't seem to mind her tight grasp. Which was a releif because if he had, Mudslide doubted he would be sitting as still as he was.

 

With a shaky exhale, Mudslide leaned the side of her head back up against the Whispering Death's cool scales and closed her eyes. She attempted to nod, but only succeeded in biting her lower lip to she wouldn't cry out again. "'m okay..." she nervously fibbed, knowing it was obvious to anyone that could see her that she was far from okay right now.

 

Sharksneeze stiffened slightly, but he neither growled not raised his spines in a show of watchful defiance. Instead he remained as still as he could manage, only flapping his wings occasionally to keep his upper body upright. His bulbous jaw loomed over Mudslide's head, but he slowly retracted it a bit to make it easier for her to see without spikes invading her limited line of sight.

 

She could hear other people talking, but at the moment Mudslide was preoccupied just trying to look brave as Hammerstein got closer. The top of her head felt abnormally cold, giving her the first indication that he helmet had been knocked off at some point in the madness. She blinked and looked around, spotting her helmet some feet away where they had previously been standing not so long ago. It hadn't been lucky enough to avoid the flames entirely. But it was made of a dark enough metal that the only way you could even tell the fires had reached it were the scorch marks litering the ground around it. At least from her distance anyway.
 

Mudslide snapped out of her stupor as Hammerstein moved closer. She ducked her head, feeling a little naked without her helmet on. She wasn't sure what else to do at this point. There was no smile on her face. She looked rather pale in comparison to a few minutes ago however. Part of her was hoping that if she acted like nothing happened, they would just drop the matter entirely. But Mudslide knew better. She knew they were just going to ask and discover that their newfound "friend" was might as well be part chicken. So she stared blankly off to the side, the left side of her face still pressed against Sharksneeze, while she awaited the inevitable.

 

((What Shadowclaw said is right about what "OTL" means. And this is by far my least favorite post of mine thus far in here. I couldn't think of what else to do for the end. <_<;;))

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The Joshinator
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Welp...

((You’ve certainly done it this time. The sheer density of heart-melting beauty in that last post just collapsed into a singularity of awesomeness, ripping a jagged hole in the spacetime continuum. Now I’m going to be stuck in the SoD universe permanently… XD

 

 

Ashamed about… causing mayhem and chaos? Never. }>:-D Admit it, it made life interesting!))

 

As he neared the morose Whispering Death, Hammerstein heard Shadowclaw’s offer to keep an eye on his dragon. Not wanting to say anything out loud to avoid destabilizing the delicate situation in front of him, he glanced back and shot her an expression of gratefulness and concern. Inna and Rosethorn had backed up as well; he cringed at the painful yelp of Rosethorn’s spike impaling her hand, wanted to apologize for this whole situation, wanted to explain how they just happened to waltz in on a ticking time bomb that had nothing to do with them, but the primary concern was still defusing the traumatized young Viking wrapped around Sharksneeze’s belly. As much as he hated it, Inna would have to wait, bleeding hand or not.

 

The large dragon’s exquisitely mournful croons could have melted the stoniest Viking heart into a quivering puddle of grief and sadness, and jagged spears of sorrowful empathy ripped through Hammerstein as he attempted to pull himself together for the sake of the girl clutching her depressed companion. “Y-...yeah…” came a muffled reply to his earlier question. Drawing a ragged breath and turning her head to the side to face him through bleary, tear-stained eyes, Mudslide mumbled what was obviously an attempt at a face-saving coverup. “I - I’m okay…”

 

 

Pausing before taking a last step toward her, Hammerstein considered his different options for approaching the situation. Insincere platitudes were easy, but would do approximately nothing to actually comfort. Bluntness might have worked with some of the male Vikings, but it wasn’t going to win any friends here, human or otherwise. He settled on plainspoken honesty, tempered with a soft voice and a softer heart.

 

“Mudslide,” he said gently, “you’re not the best liar. I can tell you’re not okay.” Hammerstein took a deep breath before asking the one inevitable question he could tell she was dreading: “What’s really going on?”

 

((You’re kidding, right? Isn’t that what we’re doing here, writing open-ended posts for the next person to build on? XD I think it's one of the most emotionally charged, soul-touching posts thus far. And if we don’t hit the character limit here with individual posts, I’ll definitely find it when I edit all this together. O_o That’s gonna be a project… Maybe I ought to start now.

 

*sigh* Short post is short, comparatively speaking... I'm feeling a distinct lack of creative juices flowing right now. >_<))

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Mudslide
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Don't go "boom" on me now! D8

((I'm becoming increasingly concerned with your well-being, Josh. I don't have the abilities to rip between dimensions and I haven't a clue how to get you out of this mess. But it's not necessarily a bad universe to be stuck in now is it?

 

"Interesting" is one way of putting. "Chaotic" would have been my first choice though.))

 

Despite the relative chaos not ten minutes earlier, things seemed to be on the right track to calming down again. At least as far as Sharksneeze was concerned anyway. He was currently too preoccupied by Hammerstein to notice Rosethorn's blunder with Inna or that Briarwolf was lingering close to Maceforce at the moment. There could have been a hurricane bombarding the school at that very moment, and still the Whispering Death would take no notice. His off-white eyes followed Hammerstein's approaching figure like a Terror chasing after the mysterious light.

 

It's physically impossible for a Whispering Death to not appear threatening or monsterous, but that didn't mean Sharksneeze wasn't going to at least try. For his efforts, his spines were completely lowered and his hackles no longer rose. His teeth no longer knashed within his gaping maw, silencing his renowned whisper. Even his morose croon came to a near stopping point as he rose his head further up to make his rider all the more visible. Still, the basilisk couldn't bring himself to uncoil his slender body from around Mudslide. Though he wasn't feeling as offensive (for the time being), the Whispering Death wasn't taking any chances just yet. He would wait until his rider gave him a sign that things were all right once again.

 

Sharksneeze snorted upon hearing the young man's shaky voice. Hammerstein was clearly scared of the Whispering Death, yet he was still making an effort to calm Mudslide down. It was a commendable endeavor even if the Viking failed to reach his goal. And while Sharksneeze was by no means fond of Hammerstein at the moment, he appreciated the courageous act enough that his coiled body began to loosen and receed, but only enough to uncover his distraught rider from the waist up.

 

Mudslide, for her part, was currently forcing herself to take deeper breaths in an attempt to calm herself down. She barely heard Hammerstein's mumbles, but they did give her something to focus on that wasn't her racing heart or eerily still dragon companion. The brunette blinked and resisted the urge to rebury her face as she sniffled despite her best efforts to calm down. She too found herself watching Hammerstein as he approached her with a look of fear and uncertainty etched across her flushed face.

 

She heard her name being called. And, for a moment, she found her muscles relaxing in the wake of his calmer tone. However the moment barely lasted a second before his continued statement caused her to stiffen all over again. He knew. He knew she was lying. He knew she was far from okay. And he knew she was trying to cover it all up and pretend like nothing happened.

 

Mudslide suddenly found herself wishing she was anywhere but here. She felt vulnerable and it wasn't just because her helmet wasn't where it was supposed to be either. The brunette bit back a soft cry as Hammerstein took a breath. Her eyes slammed shut at the Viking's question, arousing a newfound sense of fear within her racing heart. If Sharksneeze would take flight and leave this place right now, the brunette wouldn't be upset with him in the least. But, as things stood, the Whispering Death wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. Not until his rider had calmed down and things were back to normal around here at least.

 

Scared and witless, Mudslide shook her head slowly. The longer she shook her head, the more reckless the motion became until she finally caved, turned her head, and buried her face back into Sharksneeze's underbelly. The Whispering Death cocked his head at the sensation and for the first time since Hammerstein first started approaching him, the dragon turned his gaze down to watch his rider. He could hear her soft cries she was trying desperately to mask and felt every twitch and shake that wrackled her petite body. Sharksneeze did not understand what all of his meant. Why would a creature make such noises? Was Mudslide hurt? Or was whatever she was scared of still around? And if it was the second option, then what could possibly be sending the usually cheery Viking into such a petiful fit?

 

With an affectionate croon, Sharksneeze relowered his head. With careful, practiced ease, the Whispering Death gently but a section of the bottom of his chin against the crown of Mudslide's noggin. The motion seemed to both startle and arouse the Viking as her shaking stopped and her body stiffened. Unsure of how else to respond, Sharksneeze continued to hum a bizarre tune while awaiting Hammerstein's next move.

 

Finding the ruckus soothing, Mudslide ceased in her own cries and slowly, bit by little bit, unburied the left side of her feverish face. She gradually forced her left eye to open and had to blink several times before she could make out anything beyond the black spines that were back within her line of sight thanks to Sharksneeze lowering his head again. The brunette whimpered quietly and tried to find her voice that seemed to have abandoned her in her fit of terror.

 

"N-noth-things... wro-..." Mudslide deliberately cut herself off.

 

She wanted to scream that nothing was wrong; to deny that she was scared until she blue in the face. But Mudslide always tried to be honest even with her feelings, even if she didn't like the truth herself, and even if she didn't want to accept the truth herself. So with a heavy heart, Mudslide relented to Hammerstien's words and let her shoulders sag, giving the first sign that at least a little bif ot the tension was leaving her.

 

"I... I'm..." Shaking her head, trying her best to look brave (and failing miserably), Mudslide took a deep breath of her own. "I CAN'T!" she shouted before instantly turning her face to hide her shame amongst the basilisk's scales. "I can't..." she repeated painfully to herself.

 

Mudslide couldn't be brave to save her life. She was a little wimp; a chicken in human form. She was easy to intimidate and was always shaken to the core at the first sign of danger. A kitten was braver than she was! She'd seen kittens stand up to dogs big enough to put them in their mouth whole and not back down. But her? A little out-of-control fire and the brunette was left screaming like a kicked puppy. Okay, so maybe it wasn't that bad, but try telling that to a gutless Viking such as herself. Mudslide wasn't weak in terms of physical strength (working on a farm and fishing helps), but she was very weak of heart. She had little to no confidence in herself or even her abilities. Some Viking she was turning out to be...

 

((No...? I suppose you're right. I just haven't written with other people in a while. I'm used to tying everything off at the end of my posts due to writing drabbles. <_<;; I don't know about that, but thank you, Joshinator. Hm... That is true. Whelp, but to start early than be left with a mountain of work at the end, right? XD))

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The Joshinator
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Mudslide, you're making this difficult... Revenge, I wonder? ;-P

 

((You're right, it's not a bad place to be stuck. At least I survived the spaghettification process while going through the wormhole... XD Don't worry, I'll figure something out. Just hope my smartphone's Internet connection holds out! ;-P
 
Sorry about the late post: I saw an opportunity to give my character a traumatic backstory, and I took it. ^u^ It still fits chronologically, at least... But Mudslide, you're sure not making this ordeal easy on me or my character! X_x ))
 
Hammerstein saw the shaken girl visibly stiffen at his statement - he had tried to be as gentle as possible, but all the tact and care in the world doesn't help a bit when you've put pressure on a raw nerve. He wondered if the insincere platitudes would've been better; if she could feel secure enough to let go of her spiked protector, this whole thing could be hashed out at another time and place. It was too late now, though. Mudslide cringed and began to shake her head, and pressed her tear-stained, mud-caked face back into Sharksneeze's belly scales. This wasn't going to be near as easy as he thought...
 
As the gigantic dragon wove her head dexterously between his chin spikes to gently touch the crown of her helmetless head, Hammerstein realized the best course of action at the moment was to back off and let Mudslide work some tension out. A soft, slowly modulated hum reached his ears, and it took a moment for him to figure out that the uncannily gentle sound was coming from Sharksneeze. The expressiveness and intelligence of that intimidating creature never failed to surprise him...
 
The low, comforting hum that resonated through the dragon's body did seem like it had a calming effect on his trainer, and her sobbing slowly died down. She turned to face Hammerstein again, though her head was partially hidden by long black spines, and inhaled a shaky breath. "N-noth-thing's... wron-" was all Mudslide managed to force out before clamming up again. The words were another feeble attempt at dismissing the situation, but her tone spoke volumes. The fearful whimper sounded like a spooked animal cornered by a hungry Monstrous Nightmare: whatever was going on, it was far beyond awkwardness or discomfort. 
 
Mudslide's body slumped heavily against her scaly companion, and Hammerstein could plainly see that she was making an effort to open up. But there was clearly something deeper going on, and the emotional pressure was building. "I...I'm..." Her already-strained muscles cinched down even tighter around Sharksneeze. "I CAN'T!!!" She burst into tears and hid her bawling face in the dragon's reverberating chest. Hammerstein froze: that gut-wrenching wail was one he recognized. 
 
"I can't... I can't... I can't..." The phrase bounced around in his head like a beam of light in a hall of mirrors, and Mudslide's muffled weeping recalled the first time he remembered hearing that sound.
 
-----------------------------
 
Not more than eight, a young Hammerstein watched his burly father, Erik, rush out the door for the second time in a week, battle mace in hand and a grim expression on his face. "Where's daddy going, Mommy?" the boy inquisited. His mother replied softly, "He's going to fight dragons, Hammer." She put on a strong face for her son, but secretly she worried about her husband. Every dragon he faced was a fight to the death, one that could go either way. 
 
A few hours later, Hammerstein's father came home, tired but with a bloodied mace and a triumphant smile. The young Viking was waiting on the porch ecstatically, hungry for news of the battle. "Daddy! Daddy! Did you get any?" "Yessir, I did! Two Gronckles and a Zippleback. Can you believe that?" The elder Thorston beamed at his excited son as he ran to his open arms; Hammerstein would make a great dragon-slayer one day. "Aww... No Nightmares?" "Nope, not this time..."
 
Just then, an earthquake-like rumble made itself heard, and the proud sparkle fled from Erik's eyes as he set his son down. "Go back to the house, Hammerstein." "But..." "Now!" Seeing that his father meant business, the boy scurried over to where his anxious mother stood in the doorway. Mr. Thorston brandished his mace and continually turned around, looking for the source of the rumble and the now-apparent whispering. Mrs. Thorston was already reaching up above the door, knowing the first thing he'd need. "Darling, shield!" As she tossed it to him, an opportunity presented itself for the source of the commotion to burst out of the ground behind Erik, right in the middle of the road: a colossal Whispering Death. 
 
"Daddy, look out!" The muscular farmer caught the shield just in time, for as he whipped around to face the beast it caught a volley of spikes - all but one. A searing pain ripped through his leg, and he instantly knew this would be the toughest fight of his life. Dodging a fierce vortex of flame, Erik rolled toward the gigantic dragon and swung his mighty mace. He caught the creature's flank and heard a resounding crunch, but as strong as the swing was, the dragon's stony scales were only cracked, not penetrated. 
 
"Mommy, can't you help him?" Hammerstein cowered in the doorway beside his mother, watching his father dodging and defending himself  against the enormous Whispering Death. "No, son. There's nothing I can do - this is your father's fight."  Her voice quavered with an unmistakable note of helplessness and worry. Erik unleashed powerful swings of his mace whenever an opening presented itself, but the dragon's armor was battle-hardened and incredibly thick. The belly scales were softer, of course, but the dragon was careful never to leave them exposed long enough for an attack. 
 
A second blast of flame rocketed toward Hammerstein's father. The young boy had never actually seen him fight a dragon before, and was terrified by the hundred-foot serpent. This time, the fire caught the farmer off-guard; he raised his battered shield, but the force of the blast knocked him to the ground and threw his mace nearly back to the house. Taking advantage of the moment, the Whispering Death snatched up Erik's wounded leg between its wickedly sharp fangs and tossed him high into the air. "MOMMY!!! Do something!" Hammerstein screamed as he clutched at his mother's legs. Her reply was the sound of powerlessness and fear itself, a sound Hammerstein would never forget: "I CAN'T!!!"
 
Through the blinding pain in his leg and the disorientation of slowly rotating in free fall, Erik knew he was going to die. The insidious whisper and counter-rotating rings of countless teeth below him left little doubt of that. Unless... He remembered the short sword strapped to his belt for emergency use, and instantly knew that it was his last chance. As Erik fell toward the gaping maw of the Whispering Death, he unsheathed the sword and reached around its head. Its mouth was opened so wide he couldn't see its eyes, and he only had one shot. Plunging the blade into the front of the dragon's face before grabbing a long, pointed fang with his other hand, he could only hope the small sword found its mark. 
 
Sure enough, the spine-covered colossus unleashed a terrifying scream that would haunt Hammerstein's nightmares for years afterward. It wrenched its massive head to the side and convulsed in agony, throwing the farmer hanging from its teeth against the front wall of his house with a sickening thud. As the small sword worked its way deeper into the monster's brain, it began to writhe less violently, and suddenly lay still. 
 
"ERIK!!!" Hammerstein's mother screamed and ran to her wounded husband, who lay in a crumpled heap beside the house. The beast was dead, but there were no triumphant cheers or celebratory dances. Young Hammerstein stood in the doorway, in shock and unable to think. The bitter wailing of his mother bent over her bleeding husband registered only subconsciously - he could only stare at the twisted and hellish corpse of the Whispering Death that nearly killed his father. 
 
-----------------------------
 
Hammerstein's mind was wrenched back to the present by Mudslide's sobs, where he realized he was trembling and panting for air. Remembering the current stuation and the conversation he had been engaged in, he laid a shaking hand on her shoulder. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm his own quaking lungs, Hammerstein said the only thing that came to his still-reeling mind: "I understand."
 
((I feel really dumb for making this whole big giant post and only getting two words of actual conversation in it... >_<
 
Haha, yeah I probably ought to start soon. I thought about doing the big SoD roleplay first, but that's a bit too big of a bite to take at once... O_o))
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ShadowclawFC
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...

With Maceforge settled down and her own Nightmare perched high above, Shadow looked around to survey the area. The new girl was injured, apparently by her own upset dragon; Mudslide was apaprently even more upset than when she had been clinging to Sharksneeze; Hammerstein was doing his best to help her, though even he seemed to be awkward; and there, on the ground nearby, just at the edge of the burnt area, was Mud's helm. Glancing at Maceforge and determining he would be fine, she walked over and picked up the helm, wiping off the ashy covering with her shirt. After all, she was dirty anyway, so the char wouldn't make much difference. Quietly, but within sight of Sharksneeze, she strode over to the others and held out the helm.

"There's nothing wrong with being afraid," she told the girl, who she considered a friend, "Everyone is afraid, of one thing or another. It's part of being alive."

 

((I'm sorry Inna, I intend to get to you cause I/my charrie can help with the injury. But it's hard to ignore Mud's not-so-subtle hints that she wants her helm back))

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Lemoneyedragon
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(nawww, that's fine, I only

(nawww, that's fine, I only did that so Rosethorn won't run away. In fact- it's real fun reading your posts- Inna won't go anywhere unless she gets too bored. The movie is not over yet y'know! ^_^ *takes popcorn*)

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I'd say I'm not the vengeful type, but...

((That's one thing to be grateful for, no? XD Hold in there phone! D8

 

Nah, it's okay. It's a really interesting snippet into Hammerstein's past. Makes me wanna write something for Mudslide, but I'll hold off on any backstories for the time being. I've been tinkering with ideas for a little while now anyway. <_<;; I'm sorry! I can't stop myself! 8C))
 

Salt and dirt never mix well and Mudslide's face was feeling it. While the water helped to clear up her filthy mug, the brunette's cheeks fell row and burned from the presence of salt. She weakly shook her head into Sharksneeze's scales in an attempt to ease the throbbing and wipe her face off, but only succeeded in smearing the mess and dirtying her dragon's smoother scales. Thankfully, unlike the Deadly Nadders which prided themselves in their beauty, the Whispering Death was used to being caked in the soil, be it wet or dry. He liked being down and dirty.
 

The arrival of Snarksneeze's chin atop her head was greatly appreciated as both a sign of affection and a distraction. The noise he created was one she had never heard from the scaled beast and one she hoped she would never forget. It was both alluring and outlandish in its own beastly way. The sound resembled hundreds of little bells that were way-off tune with one another being chimed in a gentle breeze. Some bells were cracked while others jingled as if they were brand new. Several more clang a deeper melody that didn't seem to go with the rest of the ruckus. Still, it somehow all came together to create a mysterious and charming number that she would not have ever expected to come from something as monsterous as a Whispering Death. Her Whispering Death. Her best friend and companion.
 

But the noise wasn't enough as Hammerstein's words dug into her waning resolve to play this whole thing off like it was nothing major. And in the silence that followed her outcry, Mudslide was left to her thoughts as to just why she was even here.

 

She was not afraid of fire. She would profess to not being scared of dragons either, but there were several she'd heard about that she sincerely hoped she never crossed paths with. Changewings, Typhoomerangs, and Scaldrons to name a few. Timberjacks used to be on that list, but when riding one was the only way back home at the end of the school day (Sharksneeze couldn't yet fly on his own), the brunette had to confront that fear and move past it. In fact... Whispering Deaths used to also be on that list. And yet here she was, clinging to the belly of one such basilisk as if he was her only lifeline. But that was another story best saved for another time.

 

So then... why couldn't she move past whatever fear this was like the previous two?

 

It was because she didn't know what exactly she was afraid of. She was afraid of getting hurt, but she imagined all living creatures were that way. Mudslide was also afraid of letting people down or having them discover how much of a wimp she was, but nobody was depending on her and it was too little, too late to save face now. What was left?

 

So then what was she to do?

 

To be honest, Mudslide had never been the overly social type. It wasn't that she was picked on growing up or treated like some kind of freak. She was just socially awkward and couldn't lie to save her own hide. So some took advantage of that while others decided they should protect her from those who would force the truth out of her. But, as with going to school, there comes people who want to get to know you for whatever reason they so choose. It was one of the reasons she was even attending the school in the first place; to become more social.

 

Pulling herself from her troubled thoughts, another sob, far weaker than anything previous, escaped her partched lips. Her shoulders felt stiff and all of her muscles felt sore from being overexerted. Her dark brown eyes remained closed with her forehead still pressed against her dragon's underbelly. It wasn't until that very moment that she began to realize Sharksneeze's bizarre hum had come to an abrupt end. Blinking out of her trance, Mudslide found herself stiffening all over again at the feeling of something that was distinctly not reptilian touching her shoulder. The brunette was thankfully able to bite back a yelp, but she couldn't continue to hide her face at the sound of Hammerstein's shuddering voice.

 

Slowly, Mudslide's face came out of hiding. Mud was smeared across her face and masked the scar going down her right cheek. Her purpils were vast and her expression was honest, giving away her struggle to maintain a false air of calm away. Her bangs were sticking to her forehead via an odd combination of tears, soil, and sweat. As she stared at the young man, wide-eyed and sheepish, Mudslide found herself wondering how he could understand when she herself didn't even have a full grasp of the situation. So she just kind of stared at him, unsure of what to do or even say to make light of her current predicament.

 

Thankfully, Sharksneeze was ready, willing, and able to bring her back down to Miðgarðr. The Whispering Death prompted removed his chin from her head and quickly butt it back down onto her noggin. Jolted but unharmed, Mudslide blinked several times, releasing a fresh and final volley of tears from her reddening eyes. Before she could repremand the Whispering Death for his actions, the brunette was drawn back to the hand on her shoulder. Tentatively, as if afraid the touch might scare him away, Mudslide unwrapped her right arm from around Sharksneeze to reach up and cautiously grab his wrist. She gave it a moderate squeeze as if to reassure herself before closing her eyes and dropping the side of her head against Sharksneeze again. She suddenly felt a little exhausted, but she figured she would be okay. "Okay..." came her mumbled response.

 

The arrival of Briarwolf caught Sharksneeze's attention very quickly. He raised his spheroid head and watched the approaching girl with watchful curiosity. The Whispering Death recognized her as the girl with the ashen Nightmare and took note that her dragon was hanging back. What drew his attention fully was the site of Mudslide's horned helmet cutched in the girl's hands. And while he didn't completely understand her words, he did understand her tone and implentation. So he raised his head further and flared his wings up for balance. His spines were at their most relaxed position and no noise escaped his gaping maw outside of the usual burrage of heavy breaths rattling his rows of pearly-white fangs.

 

Mudslide did understand Briarwolf's words, however she was not expecting the girl to so suddenly appear like that. She stiffened and fastened her grip on both Sharksneeze and Hammerstein's wrist, but soon recovered and forced herself to relax again for her muscles' sake. Her eyes were opened once again to view the world around her and her gaze was drown from Hammerstein's face to the approaching girl's.

 

"My helmet..." she murmured in a daze. "Th-thank you..." she quickly added in a stammer. She wanted to reach out for it, but she was afraid to release her grip on anything at the moment. It was irrational, but she couldn't help it. Thankfully, Sharksneeze was willing to take charge for her and lowered his head a fraction. He wanted to reach out and take it, but feared startling Briarwolf and having a repeat of earlier with the new girl this time around instead of his rider. He partially opened his mouth before quickly closing it again upon realizing his gaping maw likely wouldn't help the situation either.

 

Mudslide watched her dragon's jaw from beneath his head with a weary smile. He really was a good dragon when you got right down to it.

 

((It's okay. I don't feel like I got much accomplished with mine either. Seriously considering writing that little "story for another time" too. OTL

 

Yeah... That's 7+ pages long last time I checked. Hence why I'm afraid to jump in there. O.o;;

 

@ Shadow: As for my "not-so-subtle-hints" I was honestly just writing something for filler. Sorry about that. <_<;; Go help Inna! D8))

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((Funny... I can quite easily create backstories for my persona, Briarwolf, but not translate any of my own.. I mean I could, but ... eh. Whatever. And lol, okay, but it did seem like you were trying to make a point about the helm))

 

Shadow looked up at Sharksneeze; she wasn't afraid of him. Even if one of those vicious-looking teeth was as long as her arm. Smiling reassuringly, and with a claming look in her eyes, she raised Mudslide's helm so the Whispering Death could take it. Then, with a glance to Hammerstein that essentially said, 'good luck,' she turned and quickly strode over to the newest member of the fiasco. It was strange, really - while in most circumstances she would have stayed in the background and not spoken to the stranger at all, the sight of an injury switched Shadowclaw into 'help mode.' She was knelt on the ground and removing items from the knapsack she always had on before most people could even register that she had appeared.

"Hold out your hand," she told the other girl, 'Inna' she thought her name was, as she cleaned off her own hands with water and a rag, "I need you to keep completely still, too. If not taken care of properly, you could get an infection, which can kill you or cause you to lose your hand." She briefly looked up at Inna, her eyes showing that she was dead serious and reinforcing a tone that brooked no argument...

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Phew... Glad the story opened up!

((*grabs popcorn* Time for me to sit back and watch for at least a little bit. Looking forward to some more RPing from Shadow and Inna! :-D I feel like we've written a small novel over the past week... XD ))

 

((Edit: you know what's awesome (and slightly freaky)? Right after writing and posting Hammerstein's backstory, I watched DoB episode 4. I won't post spoilers, but the way the Whispering Deaths look and act in that episode, particularly when fighting Vikings, is EXACTLY how I imagined the battle between Hammerstein's father and the Whispering Death! I watched it, thinking the whole time, By Odin's beard, I already wrote this episode! I'M A MIND READER... O.O ))

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Slow posts for the next week

((I'm looking forward to it as well. Unfortunately, I won't be able to post as often as I have been for the next week. My roommate has the week off and I want to spend as much time with her as a possibly can since her job keeps her so busy. Sorry, guys. OTL

 

A small novel? I can agree to that. XD

 

I watched the episode after reading your post as well. Freaky stuff man. I'll admit that I'm kinda shocked by the fact that I got the whole "young Whispering Deaths can't control there _____." Wasn't expecting it to be their jaw muscles and spines, but I'd imagine fire is just as important. And if you're a mind reader, what am I thinking about right at this very moment? >3

 

@ Shadow:

I wasn't meaning for it to appear as that. Sorry. But thanks for getting it back! Sadly, I don't know when I'll be able to write a quick reply to it. I'll try here in a bit if I can!))

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Lemme guess... HTTYD. XD

((Oh my gosh, I almost forgot about that! You DID get the young, out-of-control Whispering Death!!! O.O That's crazy... Just remember, you heard it here first, folks! XD 

 

Yeah, I think that's forgivable. Sometimes, real life just has to take first priority. I had several days where I was just not able to post much, and conveniently it was my turn in both of the RPs... Oh, the life. (Originally, that's what I thought OTL referred to. XP) Enjoy your time with your roommate!))

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((That seems to always happen to me. The one time I'm not able to roleplay for whatever reason, often lack of motivation, it's my turn. In fact... I'm so sorry Lemon/Inna!!! TT_TT;;; I've had a busy day today and was barely manage to get through just one tiny post of the 'main' rp. I swear I've started typing a post here and then something happens or I get distracted for only a moment and then I can't figure out what I was going to do... Not really an excuse, but.. ))

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Well, if you've got a post going already...

GET CRACKIN'!!! XD

 

Totally kidding... Please don't force it, I think we'd all be happier (including yourself) to see good creative writing instead of forcing out something dissatisfying. Honestly, I'm surprised you're the first one to succumb to writer's block... ;-P

 

And unless it'd screw up your post-in-progress, I could do another one that brings you guys to our attention. You want me to wait? I'm in no hurry; you know how long it takes me to write! XD

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I've always had problems with writer's block... well, ever since... I started high school, I think. Before then I never had it. But that's when things started really getting stressful, and stuff was happening and all... and it still it. In fact, it's worse. Plus, I'm not in school or working, so I'm not as active as I should be, therefore I lack the motivational energy needed to sustain a block-free writing life. -sigh- Still, I'll figure something out. I always do.

 

And nah, you don't have to. Basically all I'll end up doing is medieval medicine DX Yay, poultice-making... I'll get to it...if not tonight, then sometime tomorrow depending on wenever I wake up.

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Okie-dokie then.

I may not get to it tonight anyways, as I'm starting to write this whole thing up as a single cohesive fanfiction narrative. The first part's going to be by far the hardest, because we started it in medias res and typed pretty much actions and dialogue only, leaving much to the (read: my) imagination. Later on, it's all pretty much written out for me. Wish me luck... O.O But it's good to know for once that I won't screw anything up if I get a post in before you.

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"Luck? I don't wish you luck, I wish you sense!!! ... ... ... Good luck, kiddo..."

 

And hey, I think if I listen to my music I'll have a reply up soon. 

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BORIS QUOTE?!?!

You, sir, just brought back my childhood, revived my hope in humanity, and won the internet. Plain and simple.

 

In other news... Good sense? That's been out of the question since I decided to edit this whole madcap adventure together - Boris' expression is pretty much mine right now. Basically, to start the story I'm having to write your character finding Sharksneeze, and describe you getting eaten alive and unharmed by something that doesn't usually leave its prey as anything remotely resembling alive. >.< I'll send a draft to you for adjustments, since it's kinda your charrie getting eaten... XD However, I am finding this a pleasurable challenge, so don't expect to see me RPing in this thread until at least tomorrow. 

 

Speaking of pleasurable challenges, how's that Mudslide and Sharksneeze sketch coming? No pressure or anything, I'm just curious as to where the progress is at. Last I heard, you were going to have an aneurysm if you so much as looked at something long and pointy again. Get over that yet? ;-P

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I love Boris

Uh, I'm a lady thank you very much. But yes, I love that movie so much. So inspiring, especially when you're as close to the Wolf Spirit as I am. 

 

And heh, yeahhh... I would never have even thought of attempting such a venture. And okay, I'm sure it'll be fine. 

 

As for the sketch, it's coming along. I forgot to add wings x.x Once I'm pleased with the result, and stop myself from attempting to build a Whispering Death in minecraft, I'll get on to the colouring part. Gonna try something out, where I don't actually put on lines. Or...what I'll prolly do is make the lines, but then do the colour using the sketch and see how that turns out, and if I don't like it, I'll colour the lineart.

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Oi... >.<

Why do I ALWAYS wind up calling the females on this forum guys instead of the other way around?! I'm really not sexist, I promise! XD

 

Haha, gives you an idea of just exactly what kind of crazy I am... O-o

 

Yeah, those could be important... Cool to hear how it's coming along. I'm excited! You can build one in Minecraft... as soon as you have a finished sketch to model it on. ;-D

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Whispering Death

((For some reason, I want to see this Whispering Death if you create it in Minecraft. As for your art, take your time. There's no rush. Heck, I might not be able to even see if for a day or two after you post it unfortunately. Sorry. OTL))

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Well, I have posted the sketch version in the Fan Art board, if you're interested. And... if I ever do build one, I'll most certainly show you (if it's worth showing at all, that is).

 

And don't worry, everyone has some amount of life that rears its head now and again. Life should always come first, after all.

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-Insert Something Hilarious Here-

((Really? I'll need to go look into this! 8D

 

Life does tend to rear itself and reminds us that it exists for our benefit. XD))

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<_<;;

((Yeah... We're just uncanny like that or something. O.o;;

 

I'm sorry, guys. But we're gonna be a bit busy this week with running errands and just spending time together this week. That, and with the new release of Pokemon X & Y, there is that in my way as well. <_<;;

 

I will try to get on at least once a day and check up on you guys. Unfortunately, I don't forsee myself having the time to crank out one of my larger posts, so any responses from me will be short as a result.

 

@ Shadow:

I know the feeling. Usually when I get writer's block, I listen to music or play a video game that is completely unrelated to the topic at hand. Somehow it helps me.))

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Inna agreed and tried to

Inna agreed and tried to remember any healing she knew- maybe she could somehow help... herself... anyway... She didn't excactly knew what to do when a nadder attacked- back on her village at the times when the war between vikings and dragons existed, the only dragon that truly attacked and made serious wounds was the Thunderdrum- because it was the only dragon that was willing to attack such blast of ice (in other words- it was awfully cold in her village- pretty much like winter forever! ;D) No Whispering deaths, at all!

"Uh... thanks about that..." Inna said "I'll keep still... or more less try..."

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Shadow nodded, getting out the rest of her materials. For a small knpasack, there was a remarkable amount of stuff in it. Her double-strong medicinal ale, brewed with herbs to add some actual healing to the alcohol; an assortment of knives, of various sizes; rags and strips of cloth; a small wooden box containing vials of herbs and herbal medicines, such as tinctures and ointments; a small bowl; and a small brazier. With deft hands, she set up the brazier and lit it, set the bowl above it using a metal rack she made herself, and filled the bowl with water to warm. Then she soaked a rag in the medicinal ale, ignoring the scent, and cleaned Inna's still-bleeding hand as best she could, being sure to re-soak the rage constantly. She would have to make some more of the mixture, though, after this mess was over. The hand was still bleeding profusely, but at least now it was clean. 

By now the water had heated up enough, so Shadow took one of the strips of cloth and placed it beside her, out flat. Then she rifled through her medicine box to pull out dried herbs - Golden Cale, Knitbone root, Craneflower, Lady's Luck, Luna's Wash, Wegbrade, Knapweed, and Millhair. She mixed small amounts of each into the near-boiling water, letting it brew up a bit as she replaced each vial. When it was ready, she took the cloth and soaked it in the mixture, banking the fire slightly to keep the brew from overheating. Once the cloth was thoroughly soaked and coated, she began to wrap it, while warm, around Inna's injury. She secured the poultice, wrapped a thicker, waxed clother around it, then poured the remaining brew into a bottle, capping it tightly.

"Keep that on until it gets cold," she said, handing the potion to the other girl, "Then heat the mixture and resoak the poultice in it before reapplying. If it starts to get worse, go see the School Healer or the Botanist. You should be fine, though." With that, she began carefully restoring her things to their rightful places in the knapsack, promptly ignoring everyone else...or seeming to, anyway...

 

((Note: The 'medicinal ale' is something I just came up with - I have no idea if it would actually work or not, and I do NOT advise anyone to try making anything like it. For reference, however, I will say that, as I imagine it, it's normal ale but with double the alcoholic content for disinfectant properties, plus brewed with herbs such as garlic and marigold to add extra disinfectant properties plus healing properties. It probably smells horrid...

Also...I just made up names for the herbs since people would have called them differently back then. In order: Marigold, Comfrey, Geranium, Lady's Mantle, Lavender, Plantain, Shepherd's Purse, and Yarrow. You have no idea how long it took me to look those up and think of names for them x.x))

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"I suppose it's not that bad,

"I suppose it's not that bad, we better go check upon..." What was her name again? "...Mudslide!" She finished.

(That's the shortest post- sorry. I am not much of a writter! ^^; By the way- that healing part was awesome! *_*)