How to Dine and Dash [Clara/Tyrant]

The being known as Arkos stared out at the bleak cityscape beneath him with a mixture of disgust and wonder, unable to differentiate which of the conflicting emotions was his and which was bubbling up through his bond with the Mistress. She was annoyed, that much was certain, though whether it was with him and his inability to control himself, or with some other poor fool, was beyond his ability to understand. Still, that annoyance spilt over into the dragon’s mind like a prickly bramble, poking and cutting away at the edges of his already frayed nerves without mercy. He was still getting used to the thought that he was now a flying lizard of legend instead of a tortured, broken soul trapped inside an endless cycle of pain and misery. “Jarring” didn’t quite cover the magnitude of his disquiet, but it came close- one did not just snap into a new identity like putting on a new hat, after all. He would manage though; he had to, if he was to remain free of that infernal book.

Another stroke of his long, leathery wings brought the beast to the very top of the cloudless city, yellow-green gaze flitting about the grey buildings in search of his prey. The Mistress, blessed be her soul, had tasked him with tracking down a Hollow of peculiar ability– each of its most recent victims, and there had been many, had all experienced severe necrosis, despite being dead for only a few hours. It was enough of an oddity to draw the attention of the local authorities and, thusly, the attention of his master as well. Why she wanted him to find and engage such a creature was irrelevant. He would do it, if only to escape his prison for the duration of the task. And if he performed well?

She may even call upon me again. The memory of those words echoed in Arkos’ mind, spurring him onwards through the night sky. He would do well, no matter the cost. To be given this kind of freedom, only to have it taken away, never to be tasted again...

The dragon’s wings went limp, wrapping around his body to form a near perfect aerodynamic cone that sent him plummeting to the streets below. Adrenaline slammed into his veins, accelerating his heartbeat even as time seemed to slow to a crawl. Target acquired. Three kilometers and closing. Air whistled past his ears as he fell, gaining speed with every second. Two kilometers. Unfurling his wings with a spin of his body, the beast threw the limbs back and forth as fast and as hard as he could, each flap increasing the pace of his descent until the very air around him shattered as he passed through it. 1,000 meters. Target is moving.

Double lidded eyes snapped open, reptilian pupils widening as he gazed at the situation below. 500 meters. Ah, so his prey had found another victim, had it? He could use that. 400 meters. Muscles flexed in his wings as the window of opportunity drew near, righting his body with the ground even as he closed in for the kill, mouth opened and teeth barred, ready to pierce dragon scale if need be. 300. Almost there! 200. 100. Now! He closed his mouth, the warm, coppery tang of flesh and blood filling his gullet as he sped past his target’s empty jaws, triumphant in his success. Tilting himself back, the beast used his long wings to slow himself down, landing atop a nearby apartment complex.

But there was no time to enjoy his meal, nor his victory. The target was coming, his massive, black scaled frame barreling towards the building with only a single intention; crushing him. Literally. Move! His body obeyed without question, instinct pushing his wings down just in time to propel the smaller dragon up and over the Hollow’s attack. No mercy. Arkos took in a deep breath, hovering over the partially destroyed building with fangs barred as he let loose a deep, guttural roar. Fire welled within his chest, spewing forth in a bright blue bolt of heat and flame and death that scorched the air. And, if his aim was true, the center of one of the Hollow’s wings as well.

There would be no fleeing for this one. Only fire, and the cold embrace of death.
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WC: 728
GP: 14

Arkos' Combat Data

The tiny black dragon escaped Tyrant's dive into the building by escaping past the hollow's very body. Like a mosquito that constantly slipped through a human's fingers. He charged a blue ball of fire within in his lungs and shot the bolt with true ferocity. Tyrant whipped his neck around and shot a crimson ball of his own. A finer tuned version of cero that lacked power but made up for it with speed and accuracy. Bala, the technique was called. Though the mighty hollow wasn't proficient in the skill, he never saw that it was without use.

His rookie skill with the technique was obvious though as the blue bolt over came the crimson. The bala wasn't enough to destroy the bolt but it was enough to deflect the shot enough to send it past the Hollow's wings. The irony here was that the dragon had been attempting to clips his target's wings. If it had been a direct chest shot, it would have succeeded.

Tyrant turned his body to face the other dragon. Truly, this was something that he could not fathom. It was not a hollow or a shinigami. It's reiatsu was unique and unfamiliar to the Hollow. It appeared to be tethered to someone else but the intricacies of the matter were completely lost to him.

”Do you have a name? Do you have sentience? Are you even able to speak?” His questions gave off a sense of curiosity and manners. It did not appear that Tyrant was talking down to the dragon, but just to gather information from him. At the same time, the hollow sifted through the debris he had caused.

He found his prey's body with the soul already gone. By one of his three tails, he held the limp corpse up, her neck broken by the g-forced placed on her by the thief's aerial maneuver.

”This was mine but you took it from me. I spent a year finely seasoning her to the perfect mental state to kill herself on that building. Do you understand the poetry of it? That place where she had lights in her eyes. That light began to reflect off of her skin darkly and all eyes began to question what was truly going on around her. Finally, the spot light of her dreams became a devouring maw that devoured her. It'll take years before I can find a girl perfect for that role once more.” Like she was little more than the plastic wrapping of his treat, Tyrant tossed the body away. Over the edge and down into the street below. Surely, they were drawing the attention of mortals at this point.

A glare and a growl from the gut of the Hollow now hungry for a substitute. ”You are made of reiryoku, yes?” It would only take one guess to figure out what the Hollow had in mind now. If this dragon did have some sort of sentience about it, surely, it could then feel fear.

WC: 503
GP: 10
TGP: 24

It was talking.

It had deflected his blast with Bala, though only just. He’d have to try again, perhaps with a bit more power, or maybe more shots…

It could talk.

…Could he talk? Probably.

Arkos let loose a long, hot breath, the motion eerily similar to a sigh as his target yammered on below. Why was it that every monster that could speak always seemed to do so with alarming frequency? It made no sense; he had just stolen the creature’s (apparently well-seasoned) meal and attacked it, challenging the beast for superiority on its own territory. Any animal with even the slightest hint of instinctual prowess would have been tearing after him in a fit of rage, but this one… this one was just sitting there. Talking. Staring. Waiting, as if it actually expected him to respond to its petty questions like the egotistical sycophant that it was.

Bah, this world truly was disgusting. “You know nothing of poetry, beast.” Flicking his head towards the broken body of the girl, the dragon landed atop the building just across the street from his prey, yellow-green gaze locked on its massive frame. “That? That was but a crude picture, scratched out on the walls of some Neanderthal’s cave by your barbaric claws. The mere thought of swallowing such a pathetic, miserable soul disgusts me.” Blue fire bloomed within the creature’s chest, tiny burning flecks of Reiryoku and heat falling between his fangs with each word. “And as for the rest…”

He was moving again in a flash, wings propelling him not above but behind the monster, mouth alight with burning acetylene as he opened fire against the beast once more, this time peppering the other dragon’s back with dozens of smaller, yet still potent, gouts of flame. If he could not get a direct, full power hit against the Hollow then he would simply have to overwhelm him with sheer numbers. And if that didn’t work, then he would find a way to get in close and tear this thing’s throat out. “You would do well to remember your instincts, Hollow.”
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WC: 350
GP: 7 (Reset due to claim)