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Topic Started: 11 Jun 2025, 14:06 (9066 Views)
NightLightNadderWhip
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Night Fury, Light Fury, Deadly Nadder, Razorwhip hybrid

The boy glowered at him with cold eyes, his mouth forming a tight line. They weren't that threatening. Especially the white-haired weirdo. But he wasn't stupid. Making a run for it while trapped in this cave would almost certainly lead to injury and recapture. He supposed he could try to get to the other side where an even slimmer crevice led to another exit. He knew this cave. They didn't. He could make it even in the dark, and he had a suspicion they might not be able to squeeze in after him. However, they were stronger and faster than he was, and they'd probably snatch him the second he broke free. Best to wait for the opportune moment.
He huffed. "Let go of me, and I'll show you." This time when he yanked away from Gojo, the man let him loose. "They're not gonna be happy, you know." He looked up at the two Smokebreaths clinging to the ceiling. If he told them to, they would attack the strangers and give him an opening to escape, but he didn't know what that would mean for them. Instead he raised his hands and signaled for them to come. Then dove down beside him, and that's when Gojo realized one of them was still holding his glasses in its mouth.
"Hey, that's mine!" He began to reach out, but the Smokebreath jumped into a warning position, back arched, and snarled at him.
The boy couldn't help smirking slightly. Then he knelt down and scratched the dragon under the chin while speaking to Gojo. "You don't want to get between him and his toy." The dragon was enjoying the scratches and his jaw slacked, so the boy picked up a piece of scrap metal off the ground, slipped the glasses out of his mouth, and replaced them with that. He stood and handed them back to Gojo then wiped the slobber off on his pant leg and turned around.
He lead them further into the cave behind a fairly large stalagmite formation. A little lantern sat on the ground and illuminated the immediate area. The confiscated satchels and saddlebags had been dumped out and neat little piles of items had been arranged. There were also weapons lined up. They poked out of scabbards—or a cloth covering the actual metal in the case of the shiny mace—to make it less tempting for the Smokebreaths. The boy glanced at the two men behind him, trying to gauge their thoughts.
The white haired man's face was twisted in a slight grin, as if he were amused. Then again, that's how he always seemed to look. His dark-haired companion seemed more like the type to get angry, so the boy turned his attention to him.
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Dragonrider's Fury
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Javon took the scene in quickly and silently, marking especially how expertly-placed the lantern was to cast no light that could be seen from the first cavern. Whoever this boy was, he didn't want anyone to find him; that much was plain. That or he was being extremely considerate of the nonexistent Night Terrors that lived in the main cave, the snarky corner of the Dragon Rider's mind said. He silently told it to shut up, then glanced again over the arrayed items, jaw muscles working behind tightly closed lips.

"So..." he began slowly, "the Smokebreaths didn't just steal the others' things. You had them take them, for yourself." They were statements, simple observations of evident fact, not questions. The viking's steel-blue gaze, not blazing with full, unbridled anger, but still smoldering, snapped to the young lad's face. "Why?" Then, in afterthought, taking on a more distant expression briefly, he added in a softer tone, "And how? I didn't think Smothering Smokebreaths could be trained*." He glanced at Gojo out of the corner of his eye, then, businesslike again, went on, "You can answer that while we work on packing this back up and returning it to its owners. This little mission has taken far longer than it was supposed to, and I'm sure Fishlegs is wondering by now. Plus I'm hungry. I hope we put enough fish to roasting."


*I know the wiki says they're trainable, but we see no evidence of this in canon, so in my headcanon, the Berk Dragon Academy considers them untrainable.
Proverbs 25:11
 
A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver.
Proverbs 15:1
 
A soft answer turneth away wrath: but grievous words stir up anger.

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NightLightNadderWhip
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Night Fury, Light Fury, Deadly Nadder, Razorwhip hybrid

“Ah,” Gojo waved a hand dismissively. “I’m sure Fishlegs will forget his concern once he meets some tame Smokebreaths.” He took a few steps forward and ruffled the boy’s hair. “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, kid.”
The boy swatted at him and ducked out of reach. “Stop doing that!”
The Smokebreath that had confiscated Gojo’s glasses wrapped its tail around the boy’s ankle and growled at Gojo, but the lanky man ignored it, instead kneeling and grabbing a satchel. He looked up at Javon. “I say we just stuff ‘em full and let the owners sort it out later.” He turned his gaze to the kid. “You may as well help since you dumped it all out.”
He scowled. He had been hoping to get them distracted with that while he slipped away.
“Aw, what? Feeling lazy?”
The boy didn’t respond and knelt down to help because clearly there was no way around it. Maybe he should’ve made a break for it earlier. . . .
“Sooo, Javon asked you some questions,” Gojo prompted. He started grabbing things and stuffing them in the satchel.
The boy said nothing for a few moments as he packed. He wanted to keep up the silent treatment, but that probably wasn’t a smart idea. If Javon didn’t threaten it out of him, Gojo would surely annoy it out. Besides, it didn’t matter if he told. He just felt like being petty.
“Yeah, I trained them to steal stuff for me. I’m just trying to survive. Oh, by the way, the helmets could be anywhere. They’re useless to me, so I let the dragons have them.”
“You don’t wanna wear one?” Gojo smirked. “I think it’d look great on you.”
The boy replied with a deadpan glare. No. He did not want a hat. That message needed to sink in. Once he figured that nuisance understood, he continued. “As for how,” he shrugged slightly, “Gained their trust by helping them hunt—”
“Hellooo?” the voice of a certain nut by the name of Ruff echoed throughout the cave, making the youngster jump.
“Smokey, Smokey, Smokebreaths! It’s your ol’ buddy, Tuffnut!”
The boy tried to peek at the source, but he couldn't see anything. “Who—?”
“Oh. That’s just Dumb and Dumber.” Gojo buckled the first satchel shut and looked at Javon. “Should we just let them wander? Or, no, we can make them carry the bags out!”
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Dragonrider's Fury
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Skrill

"I'm sure," the dark-haired viking replied. "But until he does, he'll be going crazy, so let's get a move on." He knelt and followed the taller man's example, and the spiky-haired lad soon joined them.

Javon frowned thoughtfully as the boy spoke. At least the kid was honest when confronted, but training dragons to steal from others? That rubbed him in all the wrong ways. Sure, survival was a need, but what was a young lad doing out here where he had such a need to begin with? Surely, if he was shipwrecked, there were other people shipwrecked with him. The viking didn't believe the blue-eyed youngster could be older than thirteen summers, and no one that age had any business solo-piloting a craft this far out in the middle of nowhere. He was about to ask about it when the twin numskulls' voices penetrated the chamber. He scowled. Great.

His satchel full, Javon buckled it before nodding at Gojo's suggestion. "Sounds good to me." His tone said he really wanted nothing to do with those two at the moment. Ah well, at least once the stolen helmets had been collected, he and his dragon could leave them, their two-headed disaster, and their collective maybe-quarter of a brain in the dust. Assuming Firelash was fit to fly. If looks could burn, he, Gojo, and Mystery Kid would have been shortly standing in the middle of an active lava flow.

As things were, the young man got up from the cave floor, walked back to the main chamber, and unceremoniously tossed the satchel at the first Nut he saw, saying only, "Go." He then slipped through the exit tunnel, and, after pausing just long enough to caress the Fiery One's snout, cast about for a stick that would make a good torch handle. He found one before long, but promptly realized he had nothing to hold the Monstrous Nightmare gel he hoped he could convince his dragon to provide as fuel. Plain wood wouldn't keep burning long enough, and a Nightmare gel-covered stick could burn to ash within seconds. Growling under his breath, he walked back to find Gojo and the crow-haired boy. "Either of you got some spare fabric? Ideally heavy? We're going to need some light to find those helmets. And one lantern doesn't split three ways." An immensely irritating --at that moment-- part of his brain corrected that to "five ways". He ignored it.
Proverbs 25:11
 
A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver.
Proverbs 15:1
 
A soft answer turneth away wrath: but grievous words stir up anger.

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NightLightNadderWhip
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Night Fury, Light Fury, Deadly Nadder, Razorwhip hybrid

Gojo had piled his and the kid's satchels into Tuffnut's arms and was spinning him around towards the exit. The Nut was calling out his protests, asking who the little ankle biter was, and immediately pinning him the new culprit. Since he wasn't getting a move on, Gojo took pleasure in kicking him in the butt.
"Hey!" he yelped. "The audacity it takes to—"
Gojo's laugh cut him off. "Just go!" He shoved the him in the back with his shoulder this time, and finally, with a scowl, Tuffnut got going.
"I've got my eye on you!" he called his warning to the young boy. "My good eye! Don't think you can escape Thorston & Thorston, Sleuths Extraordinaire!" Then he turned up his nose and stalked off.
"Freak," the boy muttered under his breath before looking at Javon. "I have a couple strips stored up. Let me get them." He turned around, about to head back, when a hand on his shoulder stopped him.
"I'll come with you." Gojo. Why? Why did that pest have to tag along? He was probably just being extra cautious. After all, they still had no reason to trust each other. But it made him worry the man could somehow read his mind. Had his tone unconsciously changed? It would've been the perfect time to escape if Gojo didn't insist on coming. But it wasn't like there was anything he could really do about it. Denying his request would just cast suspicion.
"Whatever," he huffed and headed on his way with Gojo at his heels.
When the others were out of sight, Gojo spoke up. "So, what'd you say your name was?"
"I didn't."
"Hm, what is it?"
"Why do you care?"
"I'd like to know how to address you. Unless you want me to call you Spike."
The boy sighed. Really, how could it hurt? Unless these people were bounty hunters. But they didn't really seem like the type. However, better safe than sorry. "Why did you come here, anyway?"
"Just a pit stop on our way to check up on some friends."
He nodded. He was pretty far from home. These people probably had no idea who he was. But the weird thing was Gojo. That name was too familiar. He didn't know why someone who bore it would be here. Unless . . . "If I tell you my name, will you tell me your first name?"
Gojo raised his eyebrows. So the kid knew it was a surname. People around here weren't aware of that unless he told them. Things were starting to get interesting. "Satoru."
The kid had heard that name many times in passing. It was a subject his masters found greatly amusing. Satoru, the exiled Gojo clan prodigy. Well, that was good to know, at least. The guy had nothing to do with his hometown. And now it was time to hold up his end of the deal. "Hm. I'm Fushiguro."
That was met with a stretch of silence so long that the kid looked back to see if Gojo had turned to stone or something. He hadn't. He was still walking behind him. But the expression on his face was distant.
"You're the one who wanted to know," he muttered and looked where he was going again.
The comment must've snapped Gojo back to his senses. "What's your first name?" he asked.
The kid scowled. "Megumi."
"Megumi?" He could hear the grin in Gojo's voice. But that's—"
"Call me Fushiguro," he snapped.
"Okay, okay." Gojo put his hands up in surrender. But by the tone of his voice, the boy knew he was going to hear the name "Megumi" a lot more than he wanted to from now on.
They got back to his little stockpile room, and Megumi grabbed his plundered strips of cloth. Then, they walked back to Javon in silence. However, the moment the other man was in sight, much to the kid's chagrin, Gojo yelled, "Megumi's got 'em!"
"Fushiguro," the boy corrected through a sigh.
Last edited by NightLightNadderWhip on 20 Jun 2025, 03:41, edited 1 time in total.
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Dragonrider's Fury
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Skrill

"Megumi?" Javon raised an eyebrow. Strange name. But then, he was a rather strange kid, so that tracked. The viking shook his head. "Whatever. Thanks, Megumi." He took the cloth and exited the cave once more. Upon emerging into the now-slightly-westering sunlight, he turned to where his dragon still guarded the entrance.

"How are you feeling, Firelash? Think you can get me to some water?" From the dragon's stiff movements, his rider guessed the answer to the first question was "Sore", but the Nightmare crouched to let him mount. Before he assumed his accustomed position astride the great neck, the young man rested his hand across the dragon's nasal ridge and looked him earnestly in the eyes. "Please don't hurt yourself, Firelash. Take it easy, and if you feel you could use a break, take one." He quickly embraced the scaly snout, then took his seat. The fiery beast stretched and shook out sore muscles, then with a short running leap, took to the air.

It wasn't a long flight to the nearest watercourse, but Javon could tell his dragon was glad when he could rest his wings again. The viking gave the Nightmare a few words of praise and encouragement, then dismounted and made his way to the water. He thoroughly soaked the stick and material, then wrapped the latter many times around one end of the former. That done, he dipped the assembly into the water once more, then returned to his dragon.

"Okay, Firelash," the dragon rider began. "Would you mind sharing some of your gel? This torch isn't going to do anyone any good without some fuel, and" he hesitantly half-grinned, looking rather sheepish, "I was kinda counting on you to provide it. If you'd rather not, though, that's fine. I, uh, I guess I'll... find something else." Firelash rumbled softly and flicked one fork of his tongue across his rider's cheek. He was always happy to share anything with his human. He gently closed his jaws around the would-be torch end and rolled it around in his mouth until it was well-covered with his saliva, then gave it back to his rider.

"Thanks, Firelash. I appreciate that," the young man smiled. "So, ready to head back to the others?" The Nightmare crouched again, and one more short flight landed the two of them next to the now-familiar opening into the cliff. Javon slipped off the dragon's neck, and giving him a farewell pat and jaw scratch, made to once again enter the cave. Before he could, though, his dragon quickly ignited the torch for him. With a soft smile and "Thank you", he rejoined Gojo and Mys- er, Megumi.

"Alright, let's see about those helmets, guys." He raised his voice. "Ruff, Tuff, come on!" Time alone with just his dragon always improved the viking's mood. "If you two" he looked at Gojo and Megumi, "want to take the lantern and one of the twins, I'll use this and take the other. This shouldn't take too long, right?"
Proverbs 25:11
 
A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver.
Proverbs 15:1
 
A soft answer turneth away wrath: but grievous words stir up anger.

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NightLightNadderWhip
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Night Fury, Light Fury, Deadly Nadder, Razorwhip hybrid

"Piece of cake," Gojo agreed and held up the smallest of the three missing helmets for Javon to see. "Tripped on this when I came in and decided to look for it while you were gone." He set it on top of Megumi's head and clapped his hands together. "All right! Ummm, Ruff, come with us." He decided to spare the poor boy from all Tuffnut's accusations.
The twins looked at each other.
"Whoever finds the least has to do the others' dirty laundry for a week," Ruffnut challenged.
"Oh, you're on, sister!"
They broke apart, running in opposite directions. Ruffnut snatched Gojo by the wrist and dragged him along with her.
Megumi, sitting on the ground with his knees drawn up and his back against a stalagmite, watched with a blank expression for a moment before calling out: "I might know how to make it faster."
The twins did complete 180s and came running back to Megumi. Once they stopped in front of him, Gojo ripped his arm out of Ruffnut's grip, and the twins leaned in close to the boy.
"What is it, thief? Spit it out!" exclaimed Tuffnut.
"Why would say anything, you muttonhead? We could've had the advantage!" Ruffnut complained. She shoved her brother and stepped in front of him, grabbing Megumi by the shoulders. "Let's get out of here, and then you can talk."
Megumi took Fishlegs's helmet off his head, threw it at her, and tore himself away, running behind Gojo because, somehow, that felt like the safest option right now. "I don't care about your stupid bet!" he snapped.
His Smokebreaths obviously didn't like the atmosphere. The darker one arched its back and snarled at Ruffnut while the lighter one snapped its jaws at her but quickly whimpered and backed against the stalagmite.
"Why, you little—" Ruffnut began to approach Megumi, reaching out with her fingers arched as claws.
"Oh, cut it out," Gojo interrupted. "As much as I love a good competition, we just need to find the helmets right now. Doesn't matter who finds them."
"You're just saying that because you already found one, which automatically makes you a winner," Tuffnut huffed.
Gojo flashed him a cocky grin. Perhaps he was right. "Let the kid talk."
"Kuro and Shiro." Megumi pointed at the Smokebreaths. "We each take one with us. Let them smell the twins—"
"Aw, don't abuse the poor things," Gojo cut in.
Megumi ignored him. "—Then have them sniff out the helmets."
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