the world's a beast of a burden//you've been holding up a long time

[kelpful]

Characters: Percy Jackson and you!
Date: October 4-8
Location: All around Keeliai
Situation: Percy is trying to cope with the prospect of literally going to hell, and failing miserably. Sparring, Water Sector fun and getting your head bitten off (not literally) are all options. If you want a specific thread starter, lemme know!
Warnings/Rating: None for now

Starters are in the comments!

Comments

[dracobin]

[Temeraire has finally found somewhere to keep the cows he found in Sinbrilee: a secluded plot with a small shed far from the city, and a kedan who is willing to look the other way in exchange for milk and fertilizer. It is all very neat, and he finds himself in a very good mood indeed as he returns from closing the deal.

At least, he does until he sees someone being attacked.

From this height he is too far up to see who it is, or hear Percy's laughter--only that an immense hound, larger than any he has ever seen before, appears to be savaging a helpless person. At once he folds his wings and drops, claws outstretched, the beginnings of the divine wind rumbling in his chest.]

Let them go, at once; how dare you attack someone so small, when you are so large!

[kelpful]

[Holy crap what is that, there is a thing falling from the sky why is that why--

Mrs O'Leary bounds off Percy almost immediately, hackles raising and a low growl rumbling in the back of her throat. Percy himself is on his feet just as fast, uncapping Riptide and holding his sword out, ready to attack.

Except that it's Temeraire.

Momentarily caught by the kind of awesome sight of a dragon dropping out of the sky, it takes Percy a second here] Hold on, hold on, Temeraire, stop! It's okay, she's my dog!

[dracobin]

[Oh, oh no, this is terrible, even if the person is free now and they are armed, whoever it is, and they do not stand a chance, and--

But then the person is shouting, and it is Percy, and Temeraire has to flare his wings out abruptly to stop in time. Even then he barely manages it: his tail misses the dog by a matter of feet as he backwings up and hovers in the air a short distance away.

The creature is even larger up close, he notes doubtfully: roughly the size of a small elephant, and not friendly-looking, at all.]

Are you quite sure? Only I have never seen a dog that large, before: she is not perhaps a bear?

[He has never seen a bear either, outside of books, but surely it does not hurt to ask.]

[kelpful]

[And of all things, Percy actually starts to laugh.

It feels like such a long time since he's done it, that he almost seems surprise for a second. But there's just something about a very polite, very British dragon dropping out of the sky and confusing his giant dog for a bear. While he's on the back of a giant turtle.

Percy touches the pen cap to his sword, and it transforms back into a pen as he manages to get himself under control. Still grinning, he tucks it back into his pocket] I'm definitely sure, I promise. She's - well, she's what's called a hellhound. Technically she's a monster, but she's been really well trained.

[dracobin]

[Temeraire's ruff flares in surprise when Percy begins to laugh. It is not funny--it is not funny at all, when Percy could have died--and instinct keeps his ruff flared as he stares down the hellhound. It is very large, he thinks, warily: the largest creature he has seen since Drogon, and although he is still a little larger, he cannot help but feel a little threatened by its presence.

But he thaws a little, when Percy explains, and he hovers closer, still staying carefully out of reach.]

Well, that is all right, I suppose, if she has been trained: a great many people will call creatures they do not understand monsters, when it is simply that the creatures in question do not know any better. Where has your sword gone, Percy?

[kelpful]

Well, I mean - most hellhounds are monsters. Mrs O'Leary is kind of the exception to the rule, and even that took a really long time. But you're right about making assumptions. [A beat] Oh, uh - you can come down if you want. The worst she'll do is lick you.

[He blinks at that last question, because obviously his sword is right - oh, it's a pen. Right. People don't generally expect that] It's right here. [He holds out the pen, and uncaps it again. Sure enough, a bronze sword springs to life in his hands again] It's basically so I can carry it around without people looking at me like I'm crazy.

[dracobin]

[Temeraire is still inclined to be a little cautious, as much out of a general dislike for dogs as out of wariness at something so close to his size, but Percy's words are more effective than he perhaps intended. Temeraire's ruff flares a little in mild indignation, and he lands at once with a thump:]

I am not worried about her, at all; it is only that I do not wish to start a fight, if she is your friend.

[And, oblivious to his blatant hypocrisy, he turns his attention to Percy's pen instead, pointedly ignoring Mrs O'Leary.] Why, that is very clever, and convenient besides: is it some sort of magic which does it?

[kelpful]

[Percy's lips twitch slightly] Uh huh. Right, obviously. [And Mrs O'Leary is going to take that as an invitation, bounding over to Temeraire with a happy bark now that it's clear (to her mind) that he's a Friend. She doesn't lick just yet, but her tail wags furiously]

I guess you could call it that. I never really questioned it too closely, you know? But it does this too. [And he throws the pen away from him as hard as he can. A beat or two passes, before he reaches into his back pocket. Tada, pen!]

[dracobin]

[Temeraire most certainly does not flare his ruff a little more. He very definitely does not tense up. Instead he says, in the politest tones possible,] Hullo, Mrs O'Leary. [Beat.] Percy, why is she called that? Is there a Mr O'Leary?

[He watches intently as Percy hurls the pen away, and his pupils widen significantly when it appears again in his pocket.]

Why, that is a very neat trick; I suppose there is no question of transferring that spell to anything else? [Things like his small pile of treasure, and his favourite books, and certain members of his crew.]

[kelpful]

[Mts O'Leary barks a greeting in return, bounding a little closer with her tongue hanging out] Man, honestly, I have no idea. I kind of inherited her from her last owner, he's the one who trained her, and I guess he's the one who named her that as well.

[He smiles a little at the dragon's reaction. In general he's starting to feel a little lighter than he has in the last little while. Maybe because talking to a dragon is pretty much the definition of a distraction.] ...I'm not actually sure if it even is a spell, now that you mention it. I mean, it's obviously not mechanical or anything like that, but I never really thought of it as magic. It's just...Greek. [The way he says Greek implies that he's talking less about place and more about a concept]

[dracobin]

[It is a terribly silly thing to give one pause, but Percy's mention of a previous owner is what finally wins Temeraire over. At last he lowers his head a little, his own forked tongue flicking out to sniff at the enormous dog as he addresses her cautiously.] It must be like taking a new captain, to have Percy with you; it cannot have been easy, losing your last companion.

I have never been to Greece, though I should dearly like to go sometime: is it a country where such things are commonplace, then?

[kelpful]

[Mrs O'Leary takes that tongue flicker as a hint and slurps her way up the side of Temeraire's face. Her head tilts a little as he addresses her, and a soft whine sounds in the back of her throat. Sort of like she's agreeing, but that Percy is pretty good to hang around, too]

Oh, no, uh - Greek demigods, I mean. A lot of weird stuff happens to us, but I don't think I've ever really heard anyone call it magic.

[dracobin]

[Temeraire makes a faintly distressed sound in the back of his throat, trying none-too-discreetly to wipe drool off his face.] Well, I am--certainly glad you think so.

Oh, that is true, I had not considered that gods might have entirely different rules of their own, as we have not got any where I am from: or at least if we do, they have not bothered to show themselves, yet.