Lightning and death (open)

[no_eels]

Who: Toothless, and you
When: Day 147
Where: The corridors. Or realistically, anywhere.
What: A Nightfury has arrived in the Science Center!


He goes to sleep next to Hiccup's bed, but that's not where he awakens.

The bed is empty, for one thing, and an unnatural shade of white that reminds him of sheep wool cleaned by rain. So does the rest of the room, for that matter. He stares at it for only a moment before scouring the room for scents. Toothless finds none, aside from his, and starts to paw at the tiny little door. Everything about this room bothers him. It's not right. And why are the ceilings so tiny?

It takes some doing to get past the door. Mostly, to open it, as the door seems to be wider than other doors he encounters. His folded wingspan fits easily enough. This he finds out shortly after escaping, rushing out into the space beyond and taking a sharp look up and down the corridor.

All of this sheep-white is going to make him hungry, soon. But the Nightfury's usual appetite is cut by confusion. Where's Hiccup? Where's anyone? How did they move him while he was unaware? Why does the little black box tucked into his saddle sometimes chirp at him?

Green eyes wide, Toothless begins to move cautiously through the Science Center. Maybe there are answers elsewhere. Maybe Hiccup is wandering. Luckily, the corridors are wide enough that his twenty-foot length can navigate them a fair amount of ease. The leather saddle on his back, connected to a leather artificial fin on his tail, is the only immediate indication that Toothless is no wholly wild dragon.

Comments

[foundacause]

Meg is bored. While she appreciates being trapped in this place for the mere fact it's keeping her alive, she really can't help but wish whoever or whatever brought them here would provide better entertainment. Because really, if the boredom got much worse she might just ram an angel blade into her own body instead - save Crowley the bother.

Boredom leads to exploration and exploration leads to finding what the hell is that?! Well, there's an instant cure for boredom. Stumbling across an oversized lizard that's been at the steroids. Sure beats cheesy romance novels, that's for sure.

An experiment gone wrong? Or ware archangels and superheroes no longer enough to keep whoever is in charge entertained any more?

"Well look at you, handsome. You lost?"

[no_eels]

Toothless pauses. The Viking isn't wearing any armor that he can see; she's like nothing he's ever seen, period. Or smelled, for that matter. There's a whiff of something on the air that he can't quite put his paw on.

Lost is a bit of an understatement. He blinks at Meg, canting his head to the side and blinking, and then nods.

Maybe she knows where this is...

[foundacause]

That would be eau de sulphur. Very rare. Not available in stores. The only place to get it is the depths of Hell, itself. And what armour does she need beyond a meatsuit? If it gets damaged beyond repair she'll just find another one. No big. She is rather fond of this one though.

And hey, the oversized lizard isn't eating her. That's good. Shame she doesn't speak lizard. But he seems to understand her well enough. Great start.

"Yeah, well. This is the Cape Kore Science Centre. And we're the guinea pigs."

Helpful, Meg.

[no_eels]

Out of all of those words, he recognizes pigs and cape. Not precisely helpful, no, but Toothless usually takes more from tone than from direct language. He makes a quiet, displeased noise under his breath, like a grumble. This Viking doesn't exactly sound happy to be here. Maybe they're prisoners. Maybe they've been attacked by other Vikings.

Nothing too good about any of those options.

The Night Fury takes a few steps closer to Meg, sniffing at her feet.

[foundacause]

Is that a pre-eating her sniff? A pre-pee sniff? A cautious sniff? This guy really needs to come with an instruction manual. And God, Meg hopes the thing is house trained. Because an indoor accident would not be pretty.

"So... you got an owner or you a stray?

[no_eels]

The eau de sulphur, as it were, intrigues him. It layers underneath the scent of the woman that Meg is inhabiting — underneath, through, above. He's never smelled anything like it before. But it only takes him a moment to get the scent down — it'll be a memorable one — before lifting his head again, just in time to hear her question.

An owner?

How insulting.

Toothless makes a mildly grumpy, offended noise, expressive face shifting. No one owns him. Not even Hiccup. Hiccup is his friend. And he might like to call him a pet, but dragons aren't exactly domesticated. Not even Toothless, who is, these days, as gentle as can be with Vikings.

[foundacause]

Oh don't be a grumpy lizard of enormous size. Or you know, weird dragon-not-dragon thing. What is Meg supposed to think when he goes around wearing a saddle? A saddle suggests ownership... maybe she should get a saddle or a leash for Cas...

"So... You hungry?" She really hopes that well as being house trained, that his appetite is not equal to his size, otherwise he'll eat everything the kitchen has to offer. Not that it would make much difference to her, but she would rather her humans didn't starve.

[notfromnature]

...woah. Non-humanoid species weren't new to Bashir, of course - he'd encountered plenty and studied plenty more - but during his exploration of the 'Science Centre' (so-called - personally he's not impressed) he'd been left with the impression that humanoids were all there were. Of course, without a tricorder on him to do a proper scan, he couldn't be sure, but everyone and everything he'd seen looked as if it could even be indigenous to Earth and its early colonies! To find something (or someone? even he had to remind himself sometimes that non-humanoid life could be just as developed if not more so than humanoids) that wasn't... well, that was intriguing. Intriguing enough to forget that he was supposed to be just observing, as far as was possible, and make contact -- after all, without any of his equipment he couldn't simply run scans to find out what this creature was. He'd have to do it the old-fashioned way.

"Hello?" Which, alright, was maybe not the brightest-sounding start, but determining sapience and an ability to communicate was vital, and speaking was the best way of doing that. Even if it couldn't understand the language, it would probably be able to determine that he was speaking and respond accordingly, or at least give some sign of understanding. "Easy-- I just want to get a closer look."

Again, admittedly, not a bright-sounding idea. Especially considering that he was unarmed and approaching an as-yet unfamiliar species which could well be dangerous and might well not understand. But he was a scientist, and a dedicated one - and sometimes that overcame silly things like good sense and survival instinct.

[no_eels]

Toothless is distracted from the Vikings' approach due to catching a scent, finally. But the scent turns out to be a rodent's, and it isn't a fresh scent either. He's a little disappointed as he hears the greeting and raises his head, blinking at the Viking who's now approaching him.

Nothing in the man's body language is too threatening, and he doesn't seem to have any blades on him. The Night Fury stares for a long moment — because what in Berk is he wearing — before sitting down and rumbling a greeting back to Julian.

He's glad that he doesn't seem to be alone, here, at least.

[notfromnature]

There's a hint of a flinch as Toothless raises his head, but nothing more than a frown of consternation and a slight sway backwards. The way he sees it, without a phaser there's nothing much he can do to stun the creature from far away, and he's too close to run now, so even if it does attack, he wouldn't be any safer further away. That logic is very counterintuitive and not all that logical, he's aware, but curiosity killed the CMO... or something. And as luck would have it, the specimen (whatever it might be) is apparently friendly. Or at least not hostile, which is all one can ask, really.

"I, uh-- I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

With any luck, this creature's method of communication will prove to be translatable. Whether the device that enables translation is his own Starfleet UT or something provided by Cape Kore, he doesn't know, but it might take a while for its matrix to get accustomed to a particular language. That had been the case with unfamiliar languages before, after all. Julian doesn't expect it - the way Toothless sits down is more like a pet than a person, if such distinctions can really be made when it comes to first contact type situations - but it's worth a try, at least. For the time being, he's content to assume a form of intelligence that is perhaps closer to a Terran canine, though of course he'll be polite anyway. Partly because he'd rather not patronise an alien but sapient life form, and partly because, well, he's English. He's even polite to chairs he walks into (unless it's early in the morning, in which case, of course, it is permissible to swear a blue streak).

"Do you understand what I'm saying at all?" Polite or not, the tone of voice is still more like one someone might use for a pet or small child. Maybe that's supposed to be calming.. possibly it's just because Julian has an unfortunate tendency to condescend. "Er, if you could blink twice for yes, please. And three times if you haven't a clue what I'm on about."

As he's been speaking, he's been drawing closer still. By this point, he's within arm's length and, taking something of a risk (but no more than he had been already, really), he kneels down so that he can look Toothless in the eye. It's not just for the purposes of establishing the creature's level of intelligence, of course - he wants to get as good a look as he can, too. Quite a lot of the creature's basic biology is immediately obvious, of course - a reptile of some sort, quadrupedal, with a good sense of smell and what looks like a set of wings (interesting, but not really unusual). Beyond that, there's not a lot he can immediately tell just by looking so, obviously, he reaches out a hand (carefully!) to touch its head. For this, he has no justification, but luckily Miles and Ezri aren't here to yell at him for being an idiot.

[no_eels]

The Night Fury's eyes grow to their widest as he stares at the Viking trusting enough to kneel down in front of him. Even Hiccup wasn't that brave, when they had first met, and Hiccup had been the first Viking to give dragons a chance. He does, however, fully understand what the Viking is telling him, and so he blinks twice.

And then nods firmly, once, for emphasis.

He might be more evasive, were he in Berk, but this is a strange new location and he can't take too many chances. The Viking might be trying to sneak up on him with some sort of concealed weapon, but Toothless trusts his reflexes enough to get him out of danger if this proves to be a volatile situation. For now, he'll concentrate on communication.

It isn't his fault that Vikings are so infuriatingly precise.

[notfromnature]

At an early point in his timeline, Julian's reaction would have rivalled Hiccup's in terms of flat-out awe. Just because similar creatures aren't rare doesn't mean it isn't amazing to meet one for the first time, especially one intelligent enough to understand speech. As it is, he's older and calmer than he once was, and his reaction is restrained to just a pleased little smile.

"Excellent. And I take it you can't speak? Or don't want to, at least... my kingdom for a medical tricorder!" He sighs, melodramatic, but it's evident from his expression and general aura of excitement that he's not too disappointed. "I don't suppose you're familiar with any kind of sign language? Or, er-- Morse code, perhaps?"

In this respect, Julian's definitely not the best person for the job. In terms of sheer unbridled curiosity (and even now, a certain level of inadvisable trust in the universe's good intentions) he's excellent for this kind of first contact, but when it comes to communicating without speech, well, he's a little too talkative. If his assumption about Toothless's lack of verbal communication is correct, that's an awful lot of questions to be asking to someone who can only answer by nodding or shaking his head.

[no_eels]

Luckily, the answer to these questions is all the same: a shake of his head. Dragons don't speak as Vikings do, and he doesn't know how to talk other than simple body language. Which, before, had been enough. Hiccup has always understood him perfectly. Right now, however, he wishes that he could speak. It would be far more convenient.

Since Julian is so close, Toothless leans forward a little to sniff at his hands and get his scent down to memory. And to check for Hiccup's, but that doesn't seem to be anywhere near here.

[notapawn]

With little to nothing else to be done around here since she can't even hunt without any weapons to do so, Katniss finds herself mostly just wandering the halls each day. On this particular day, in half-searching for a window to maybe climb out of, she brings herself to a pause when she hears movement around the corner. Movement that doesn't sound human. Too heavy, too many footsteps. Tensing, preparing to spring and run away if she has to, Katniss slips her hand into her pants pocket, and closes her grip tightly around a scalpel she stole out of one of the labs she's run into in her time here. It's not much of a weapon, but it's something, it can do enough damage to give her a window to escape, or...a bit more, if she has to. Not that she wants to have to.

The idea of whatever this is being a muttation is already running through her head as she releases a slow breath that holds a slight quiver on the end and takes careful, quiet steps toward the corner. This is it, what she's been expecting since she was brought here, this is the thing that's going to run through the building and kill them all, isn't it? It's just another game.

A pause. Eyes intent on where the wall ends, mere inches from her, she draws in another breath, draws up some courage. Then, finally, she peeks her head around to get a look at...whatever it is. It's big, as she predicted, and not like anything she's ever seen. Some sort of reptilian creature. Her chest tightens, and for a few seconds...all she can do is stare. It doesn't exactly look like an animal on a rampage, looking to kill whatever it sees, but she doesn't trust appearances. Her stare becomes more wary, still shocked, but scrutinizing as she keeps herself prepared to run, or do whatever she has to if this thing turns out to be dangerous.

[no_eels]

Katniss is quiet enough that Toothless doesn't really notice her at first. He's on alert, but he's used to threats that make themselves known quickly. Vikings aren't exactly subtle, where he's from, and dragons are big enough that he'd hear them coming. He bends his head, sniffs at the traces of a scent. Viking. Recent. Leather boots.

But not Hiccup's scent.

He makes a quiet, disappointed trill in the back of his throat. A despondent noise, not really befitting how most would view a dragon. Any lower and longer and it might be close to a whimper.

Then he turns his head, looks up, and spots the head peering at him around the corner.

Toothless' green eyes widen in surprise. And there's also something else there, in the expressiveness of his face. Embarrassment. Obviously, a Night Fury like him should be brave in the face of all of this strangeness. He can figure it out. And instead, he's made that noise.

So, like any dragon worth his salt, he immediately clears his expression and just peers curiously back at Katniss. He meant to make that noise. It was for... dramatic effect. Obviously. Just a noise he makes all the time. Right.

[notapawn]

It's weird, but the creature, whatever it is exactly, seems almost...sad. Disappointed. Or something. That's not an emotion she's seen any sort of animal present before, not like this. It makes her curious, more than she probably should be, though it doesn't lower her guard.

She registers the surprise on the creature's face. It must not have heard her. It...did seem distracted by something. It causes a hint of her own surprise to cross her face, and while she's careful not to move, she takes the almost awkward pause between them to glance over the thing's face. Get a good look at it. Search it, even. It's just a second before he rearranges his expression that she notices the...something else that was there. She can't put a finger on what sort of expression it was, exactly, she didn't get long enough to look at it, but the very fact that his face is expressing anything is pretty amazing to her.

Silence continues to hang in the air, and Katniss continues to simply stare back at the... Hm. He looks like a giant lizard with wings, really. But it's staring at her, and she's staring back, and if she's not mistaken...it looks curious. At least that's a bit more common for an animal. She's still wary, but her own curiosity is getting the better of her; she should be running away, just to be safe. The fact that the lizard with wings hasn't lunged at her, however, has kept her in place, and the longer she looks it over, the more she notices. First the wings, of course, but then...what it's wearing. It doesn't look like something it could put on itself, it looks manmade, even looks like some sort of...saddle, maybe? It's not domesticated, is it?

"What are you?" She asks finally, not that she expects an answer. It's more wondering aloud than anything else, and she stays firmly in place, mostly hidden behind the wall, hand still gripping her makeshift weapon as she watches him carefully.

[no_eels]

What is he?

Toothless looks at Katniss for a long moment, noting how she seems to be poised — but more poised to flee than anything else, which is mildly comforting. At least the Viking is also nervous. Though he'd prefer it if she weren't nervous about him. He prefers not to hurt Vikings, and had only done so in the past at the command of the Green Death. May it not rest in peace.

There's no easy way to answer her, of course, and so Toothless half-raises his wings before folding them at his side again. He doesn't want to breathe fire, as that might alarm her, but he's not sure how else to indicate dragon.

[laevisilaufeyson]

It has been an age and longer since Loki has seen a dragon. Once he had stood at the feet of the twisted wyrm Fáfnir, greatest of beasts, and had known awe, wonder, disgust -- for Fáfnir, it was said, had once been a dvergr, corrupted by greed and lust for gold and for power to such an extent that it had warped and twisted into another class of being entirely. But that age is long gone, the Father of Dragons ages ago fallen silent, and his line lost, dwindled away to nothingness, perhaps. But this...

His steps slow. Awe -- some edge, some hint of that old emotion, stirs in him and he wonders at it as much as at the creature. So much has fallen between that time and now that he had begun to suspect that nothing remained to link them together, and yet here he stands, Loki Silvertongue struck silent by a memory, by a ghost.

"What manner of creature are you -- dwarf, drake, or spirit?" The question is largely rhetorical, delivered in a voice tinted with wonder, with appreciation. And who dares commit the crime of keeping him bound?

[no_eels]

Toothless pauses, warily, at the sight of the Viking. One who seems to wear some kind of armor, unlike many of the Vikings he's glimpsed here so far. Though Loki's attire is far different from the Vikings of Berk, something within it strikes a chord with Toothless — there's an odd comfort to it. Familiarity, as the rest of the building is so alien.

He trills quietly in the back of his throat, ears perking.

Hiccup calls him a dragon, and that's what he is; what's a dwarf? Or a drake? Spirit is the only thing that sounds vaguely familiar. It sounds close to something Hiccup's mentioned before, or maybe something that's been used to tease him. But Toothless is no spirit...

The Night Fury stays where he is, for the moment, watching Loki.

[notatroll]

Loki has seen all manner of creatures in his life. There was the Serpent that nearly destroyed all of the realms and succeeded in killing Thor. There were, of course, the elves and the dwarves and the faeries and the frost giants and fire giants that made up the entirety of the other realms. There also... well, he attempted to domesticate a helwolf with... disastrous results. Magpies were also an important part of his life. And then there were the rams that could breathe fire...

Well, the point is that Loki is used to seeing strange and theoretically impossible creatures. Therefore, when he comes across Toothless, he's not overly surprised nor is he frightened.

If anything, he moves forward, slowly so as to not startle the dragon. He doesn't particularly feel like being burned to a crisp today. That is what dragons normally do, right? Breathe fire?

He stops a few feet away, hands clasped behind his back and a grin on his face. "Hello Mr. Dragon!"

[no_eels]

This is different.

A little Viking who isn't afraid of him.

Toothless feels a tiny surge of hope at the voice, but looking up he makes note that this is some other Viking. Not Hiccup. He looks friendly, at least, and his attire... well, it's vaguely familiar. Much more familiar than what most Vikings in this place seem to wear. Toothless has broken away those who have been showing him the ropes, just long enough to get lost again in his frantic search for his best friend.

He scrutinizes Loki just a moment before he sits down, blinking his big green eyes at the little one and rumbling. Hello!

[notatroll]

Loki's grin only grows wider. "Ah! It appears you have been trained! This is most excellent news!"

And with that, he moves close enough to Toothless to pet him on the snout, his grin fearless. "After all, it would be terribad if you tried to kill me before I've yet to do anything to warrant it."

He takes a step back. "My name's Loki. Do you have a name, Mr. Dragon?"

[no_eels]

Watching him and doing nothing to stop him, Toothless is pleased by the petting and his ears flick forward. He'd be faster at responding, but petting is a distinct distraction. It feels good, Loki's fingernails against his scales that can be so scratchy...

Oh, wait, he'd asked a question.

Toothless nods. He does have a name, though it will take a lucky game of charades, perhaps, to get it across.

[notatroll]

Loki tilts his head to the side at the dragon and its silence. "Can you not speak? Most creatures where I am from, can speak."

He puts a hand to his chin. "I suppose it would be difficult indeed to speak your name if you can not speak. Though, it leaves the problem of what I am to call you a complete mystery."

[no_eels]

Slowly, he shakes his head, though his expressive face looks intrigued. Most creatures? Does that means that there are dragons that can speak, in some far-away land that Toothless has never been to? Like this land, wherever it is?

All that remains is the Charades, then, though he doesn't know it by that name.

Toothless opens his mouth to Loki and then retracts the short teeth into his pink gums, using one paw to make a point of it.