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Post by Alma on Mar 30, 2020 1:34:45 GMT -6
Instead she returned not much later, catching him as he tried to find the best location to place his newest prize. Leaving it upon his fine fabrics might cause it to tip and stain, and when he got the lizard to light it for him, it would need to stand straight so that the flame would never escape. Balancing it on the fabrics that hung over his sleeping quarters would not do, as he would not be able to rest and watch the flame dance as he wished. The twisted piece of metal that had once been a door that the lizard foolishly attempted to keep him trapped inside might do if he could bend it into a shape better suited to hold the lantern. But the metal was torn and pitted from his displeasure at her attempts to trap him, oh oh silly the lizard had been to think she could stop him from doing as he pleased, and itself was a reminder to the lizard of the result of any struggle she put up.
((Sid-19.2))
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Post by Alma on Mar 30, 2020 1:34:56 GMT -6
Haix hated the tat-lung.
When Sid had been nothing more than a fish, it had been fine. She did not have any swimming beasts at the time, and had hoped for a monstrous catfish, something to drag prey down beneath the placid surface of the water. Then the rest of his kind started to grow, and she had discovered they had been created not from fish, but from something fouler than she could have ever imagined from looking at his tiny fishy body. Up until he had molted and changed into the disgusting thing before her, she had hoped against hope that he would avoid being changed, that he would remain fish-like and proper.
When he had not, she should have killed him. Should have, but she had spent so much time with the little fish that she was reluctant to do so. Instead, she had taken him to the trading posts.
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Post by Alma on Mar 30, 2020 1:35:09 GMT -6
She had not thought the little fish could have been so different than he had once been, for this was a time before drakes and hens, before creatures that would never obey her until she had found a way to calm them and break them. She had dismissed the glint in his eyes, the way he would sometimes trip her on the way to the trading post, or how he had taken tools and fragile things she owned and broken them before her as she struggled to take them back. He was a stupid little fish in a dragon-like body, that was all.
But the trading post had proven to her that there was nothing left of the fish. Sid would break out, taking things from her own post and swapping them with other traders in parody of what he had seen her do, usually trading away things of much greater value for trinkets and baubles when she was lucky. When she was not, he would merely take, and the soft-skins would scream at her until they changed color if she did not pay their ridiculous rates.
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Post by Alma on Mar 30, 2020 1:35:19 GMT -6
Attempts to take anything back would be met with the tat-lung proving his strength and weight as he sat on the blankets and rugs she was trying to pull free, choosing to float through the air with his baubles when she went for them instead. Drugging him did nothing as he would never allow it, breaking free to find food dusted with nothing more than spices, one time shattering the lock when she had tried with smoke to fly away. She had hoped he would not return, but he came back with a new soft-skin and more credits owed as she had tried to take his stolen goods out of the cage to be sold.
And even when he was not misbehaving, soft-skins would make jokes and bellow at her for trying to sell him, one of such towering over her as it sat on a bionic dash-claw. Sensibly, perhaps noting that there was something distinctly not smile-like about her grin, the soft-skin turned away before she lost her carefully honed self-control and ripped it off of the poor female’s back.
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Post by Alma on Mar 30, 2020 1:35:37 GMT -6
If he was not stealing, he was focusing his energy on tormenting her. Bags of feed and herbs ripped and their contents scattered on the ground. She would come into the post for the day and find some of the beasts she had left there shivering and soaked, a bucket resting on its side just outside of his cage. When she walked past him, arms laden with sacks of supplies and goods, she might trip and fall, turning back to find him looking anywhere but directly at her, chuffing as he pulled in a limb or tail that had not been out there a moment before.
And the cages. No matter the cage, he always got out. Once the age had not even been at the post but back by the kennels, a twisted mass of metal that she only recognized as it by the few pieces of red hair caught in it, and the smug, cageless tat-lung waiting for her at her trading post from his mound of rugs and trinkets.
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Post by Alma on Mar 30, 2020 1:35:56 GMT -6
She had done research on the tat-lung. She knew now that the beast would obey her in theory, that he could still be taught even if he was insolent. That he would never respect her, that his species was known to be impossible to break, soft-skins usually resorting to potions to drug the tat-lung back into an earlier stage so that it would learn to respect them before letting it grow up once more. The creature would still be just as smug, but at least it would lose it’s insolence directed at its master.
But he had been the little fish she remembered. She would not wipe away his new life just yet, she was no soft-skin to wipe away a mind just because it did not suit her. Not even with the story she had heard recently from another ranger of life outside of the soft-skin hive. She would give the fish one last chance to prove he was more the little fish than the new beast that had taken his place.
((Sid-20.2 Haix-202.0))
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Post by Alma on Mar 30, 2020 1:36:11 GMT -6
That meant trying to train him. She had gathered up the supplies she hoped to use, a few of the more common gems that were touted as cheap tat-lung food, some small fish that he had been willing to steal back when she kept him in the trading post. There were a few other things tossed into the sack, the biting pole hooked onto her harness. She did not bother to bring her weapons because, if the tat-lung took a shine to them, she would never get them back. The few items she had managed to take from him always ended back up in his room, usually draping onto his cage in a sign of defiance that she just barely could tolerate.
But after today, with a little bit of training, the beast would stop it. He would learn to actually listen to her and, if not stop seeking new things, he might do so in a way that kept soft-skins from shrieking at her. Or perhaps the mage-steel cage would finally come in and she could stop him.
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Post by Alma on Mar 30, 2020 1:36:24 GMT -6
Leaving for the park went surprisingly smoothly. The tat-lung did not allow her to tie a rope around his throat, instead floating above her as he removed it and dropped it around her own neck. She removed it as he pulled sharply on it, his chuffing laughter ringing out as she slipped free a moment before it would have snared her quills. He kept holding one end of the rope and she the other, and in that way he allowed her to pull him along, chuffing whenever she tried to swat him away from the pack. He at least did not press her further than that, clearly satisfied with the hissed command and swat that would always fail to land.
The park itself was not entirely new to him, but it was nice to see as he led the lizard around. There was not much she could do as he floated ahead, looking at all the humanoids and their beasts.
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Post by Alma on Mar 30, 2020 1:36:36 GMT -6
The plot she had wanted to train him at was a simple one of grass and a small pool of water, the nearest tree breaking up the skyline a few plots down. Sid ignored her barked demand and tug on the leash and, rather than attempt to fight him now and risk any chance she had of taming him, she reluctantly followed. Sid flew to a few plots and would hover alongside them, looking so intently at the plots that Haix attempted to walk onto the first few. The moment her feet left the path however, the tat-lung would softly chuff and tug on the rope, going so far as to slowly drag her back off the plot the third time when she tried to dig her claws into the ground.
She stopped playing his game after that third try, pointedly ignoring him when he craned his head back towards her with a boneless ease.
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Post by Alma on Mar 30, 2020 1:36:48 GMT -6
Then, with a small chuff, Sid dropped the rope and took off, careful not to look back at the lizard’s bark of surprise.
He, of course, thought the little dear needed a bit of exercise, the silly thing apparently still wound up over something. So he floated away, careful never to leave the path so that she could easily follow him without fear of some stronger beast attacking her, and floating forward with just enough speed to keep her a foot from his tail. Wanting to reward the little lizard for both letting him keep what was his without a fuss and for coming outside with him, he decided a small game was in order. He would slow down, dropping altitude and speed to that she would near him, hands outstretched to grab a hold of a leg or his tail. Then put on a burst of speed that left her with nothing more than a breeze. It had been too long since he had played more directly with the little lizard.
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Post by Alma on Mar 30, 2020 1:37:07 GMT -6
Finally the lizard seemed to be slowing, no longer catching up to him as quickly as before. He supposed it was that sack on her back that she had tried to shoo him away from, it clearly being too much weight for her. He would not dream of carrying it for her though, no, the lizard wanted to serve him by carrying whatever smelled so good. Instead, he rose slightly higher, glancing between the plots for a spot for her to drink from. Finding one that was empty of life beyond a few trees and grass, he lazily spiraled back down towards it.
Feeling a bit thirsty himself, and not particularly wanting the lizard to dirty the clear water before he could drink from it, Sid duck his head down and drank. He paid no attention to the lizard as he did, certain she would wait her turn as she should, not noticing that she drank from a water skin as he drank from the pool.
((Sid-21.2))
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Post by Alma on Mar 30, 2020 1:37:29 GMT -6
If she had been carrying the dagger, she might have killed him right then and there, slicing the side of his throat and ending the false dragon. He certainly acted like one of the evil beasts. But no, there was no dagger, and there would be no killing. It was not just that he had been the little fish, but she had to at least try to tame the thing before some soft-skin killed him for taking something too valuable. She herself had already been about to kill him herself when she had caught him threatening Walker. She would give him a training session to prove that he did not need the antigrowth to be reprogrammed or to become a meal for the formica.
She pulled out a few of the gem treats from the pack and pulled the stick free of her harness, but left the sack attached to her back. The chase she had been forced to give while carrying it made her body protest the weight, but she could not be sure Sid would not just take it and fly back to the kennels. At least this way she would have a chance to keep it.
And with that, one final exhale marking her breath fully caught, she poked him with the stick.
((Bite-Start))
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Post by Alma on Mar 30, 2020 1:37:43 GMT -6
When that failed to elicit a response from the tat-lung, she jabbed the pole into his mane, this time barking out the new command as he was to learn it. The splashing sounds of his drinking stopped, but Sid held the same position, head dipped down towards the water, forelimbs held apart to bear his weight. Or no, as with another call of the command and a jab that might have hurt him slightly had it connected, one limb shot out and grabbed onto the pole, halting its momentum before more than a quarter of an inch had sunk into his mane. He turned to look at her, bewildered but looking, to her eyes, just as smug and amused by her antics as always. She yanked at the pole experimentally, then nearly fell on her tail when Sid finally released it. She stumbled back, then resumed the command calling and jabbing towards the agate.
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Post by Alma on Mar 30, 2020 1:37:54 GMT -6
Now this was new.
The lizard was not screeching or snarling for all that she seemed to be trying to attack him, her tone light even if the swings and jabs of the pole ruffled his mane. Perhaps she was trying to communicate with him through her play? That was adorable!
The sun was bright, the day was warm, the air fresh, and he was more than willing to put up with the little lizard’s antics. The first thing to do was figure out what the lizard was trying to say. The noise was always the same, and always proceeded a swing of the pole near his head. Perhaps that noise meant head, and the taps to his mane and shoulders were just a sign of her lack of coordination. He chuckled as the lizard continued to swing, and the pole whipped in to strike between his jaws. He instinctively closed his mouth and barely noted the foul rubber taste over the happy hoots from the lizard.
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Post by Alma on Mar 30, 2020 1:38:08 GMT -6
Well, it was very sweet of the stupid thing to have made him this, but it certainly was no gem, nor was it even on par with a fish. He did not necessarily want to hurt her feelings, but he could not tolerate her trying to feed him something so foul, so he spat it out. In return, still with her chirps and happy hissing, the lizard threw something small and sparkling at him. He barely managed to catch it as it thudded into his palm, fingers closing around it only to open a moment later. A gem? Yes, this was much more to his liking. Good of the lizard to figure it out so quickly, though he hoped the gem-thing would be tastier fare than this.
Then out came the stick again, the same noise barked at him as it jabbed, and he slapped it away each time, growing slightly annoyed. He did not want to eat the rubber.
And then it occurred to him that eating the thing had never been the lizard’s intent. Steeling himself for the taste, he bit the pole as the noise repeated.
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