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PostPosted: Sun Oct 07, 2012 7:31 am 
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Kunja and Jake grinned. "Be on your guard Captain Wainwright. That might just be the dragon we brought down earlier if it looks like it got the crap beat out of it. Dragon that was being chased was distinctly golden in color and definitely lightweight in size. I'm guessing it was a Spanish breed but I've never seen anything like it before, and if I haven't heard of it that means it's pretty rare."

As Jake spoke, the pair turned, spotting Alacritas in the air and began their approach.

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PostPosted: Sat Oct 20, 2012 4:02 am 
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Haakon was pleased, but less pleased than he would prefer to be. He had acquitted himself well, which is not a small thing for a dragon who had not seen actual combat for a hundred years. Still, having to babysit a stricken heavyweight and run interference for it was not his idea of a good time, when he could have been thrashing some Nazi milk-drinker.

Was this what a mid-life crisis felt like for humans? He had seen enough of them to realize they could be a thing.

"I will leave what we do to your discretion Björn"

"We probably should go and attend to whomever it was the germans were chasing."

"Ah, yes. They may either need assistance, or death, circumstances depending."

With that, Haakon wheeled around, altering course for Captain Wainwright while Björn spoke into the radio

"This is Björn and Haakon, to Captain Wainwright, we are on our way to your position"


A few minutes later they arrived overhead, and Haakon was able to identify the stricken courierweight and spoke over the radio.

"He's a Montana del Oro, Basque courier dragon. I would presume them friendly or at least... not hostile. They have no love for fascists."

He landed some twenty yards away from the stricken dragon and his Surgeon, Dr. Svend Sandarsson dismounted and moved to approach, making sure the red cross on his uniform was visible.

"Nothing in biology makes sense except in the light of evolution."
- Theodosius Dobzhansky

There is no word harsh enough for this. No verbal edge sharp and cold enough to set forth the flaying needed. English is to young and the elder languages of the earth beyond me. ~Frigid

The Holocaust was an Amazing Logistical Achievement~Havoc

PostPosted: Sat Nov 03, 2012 12:54 am 
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Until Captain Cannon and his dragon had landed, Marcus had been waiting with baited breath... but the relief he and Alacritas both felt when the Norwegian mid weight made their approach was palpable. Without needing to be urged, alacritas altered his circle and got the bloody hell out of the way so he could land... and then proceeded to follow suit.

An aerial marker just wasn't necessary any more here, and from the radio chatter the only mop up remaining of any note was either being handled by that loud american lady and her australian friend, or was floating out at sea like a mastless barge. The former situation seemed well in hand, and the second was one they were in the wrong size category to assist with for now.

The new holes in Alacritas' hide didn't hinder landing much, which only added to the relief as Alacritas' claws touched earth for the first time in what felt like forever. "Oh bloody hell. I never thought I'd enjoy NOT flying this much." Alacritas began walking towards the midweight, and every step plowed through fauna and dirt like a post-hole digger. If Marcus didn't know better, he'd swear his dragon was hanging onto the ground for dear life for fear of falling back into the sky.

"Take a breather mate, but keep an eye out in case those jerries return." Marcus unhooked from the harness and dismounted so he could stretch his legs with a brisk walk towards the other allies, keeping an eye of his own on this dragon called 'mountain of gold'. On any other day he'd poke fun at the spanish and their pretentious naming habits... but running from a dragon aptly titled 'antichrist' tended to alter ones views on such matters, so he kept his mouth shut and hefted his gun, and the precious few rounds remaining in it.

"It might be better if I stood watch from atop the wreckage of the barn, right Marcus?" The captain turned to look at his dragon, who was obviously stealing glances at the livestock inside as they walked. It had been too long since Alacritas had eaten properly. At least he'd had a canteen and some emergency rations during the flight. Nevertheless, it wasn't nice to just take other people's things.

"Not right now. I know you're hungry but you need to stow it for a little bit longer. We can't just take what we want. If we did we'd be no better than the Jerries. So come on, show me that stiff upper lip!" Marcus pat Alacritas' good side in an effort to cheer him up after that rebuke, knowing the appeal to his draconic pride would work. "Besides, you were the first to spot this dragon ... maybe this Captain Eisenhauer fellow could be convinced to get you an extra meal instead of of beers."

Even if the appeal to Alacritas' pride didn't work, the appeal to his stomach surely did, and it rumbled loudly in response. "Hm. You're right. Maybe there's a bright side to all of this after all."

Comrade Tortoise: Shit is Becoming Properly Real.

PostPosted: Sun Nov 04, 2012 10:15 am 
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Thundercracker and crew was set down as best as the Wendigo could manage - during the flight Roberts remained in his harness, doing his best to sooth the technicolor beast's wounded ego, and to keep the dragon aware.

"I'm perfectly fine.." Thundercracker had muttered a few times during the flight, and once again as he settled his half-paralyzed frame as best he could. "I can breath, and the poison might soon work it's way clear of my system."

Roberts walked towards the Xolotl's head, as Nathan tried to sooth 'Cracker, and extended his hand "It could have been worse...we lost three men to being doused in the bastards spit. We could have all died if you hadn't managed to help us though Captain, we thank you and Frostfell for the assistance."

Roberts placed his palm just below the multicolored terror's eye, patting gently "Just rest for now, we got help on the way."

Allen Thibodaux | Archmagus | Supervillain | Transfan | Trekker | Warsie |
"Then again, often have you dreamed of hearing your father's voice once more? Of feeling your mother's touch?" - Ra's Al Ghul
"According to the Bible, IHVH created the Universe in six days....he obviously didn't know what he was doing." - Darek Steele bani Order of Hermes.
DS's Golden Rule: I am not a bigot, I hate everyone equally. | corollary: Some are more equal than others.

PostPosted: Sun Nov 04, 2012 7:19 pm 
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"Sounds lik' yer prize got 'way, Kunja," Jebediah said, listening in on the radio. He almost felt sorry for his friend, to get that beat down and not have a prize to make up for it.

Judith tried to raise Capt. Rankin on the radio. "Jebediah to AEquitus, we foun' a Spanish courier, please inform th' Spanish o' that."


Dogs are Man's Best Friend
Cats are Man's Adorable Little Serial Killers

PostPosted: Mon Nov 19, 2012 4:01 am 
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"You're not fine," said Nathan. "You've been poisoned by one of the most toxic dragons in the world. A lethal dose paralyzes the limbs first, the heart and lungs last. You're just not dead yet.

"Hopefully between the water washing the poison off and the vets you won't be dead at all, but you will stay still and conserve your strength. That's an order. I'm not losing any dragons I don't have to."

It's not that I'm unforgiving, it's that most of the people who wrong me are unrepentant assholes.

PostPosted: Wed Dec 05, 2012 2:36 am 

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One of the sentries spotted it first, a tugboat coming from the direction of the base. The radio had finally sputtered and died a few minutes ago, so Emily had no way of communicating with it. Apparently the message had gotten through though, or at least part of it had. A few of the crew jumped up and started waving and hollering at the top of their lungs, to little avail. It was only when someone found a working smoke canister and triggered it that the tug turned and started powering straight for the stranded dragon and its crew.

As it neared, Emily went over to greet their rescuers. Several men from the tug tossed over thick line, and to Emily's surprise some of the spare dragon crew that had been left at the base just a short while ago were part of the tug crew. As they got to work tying everything down and preparing for transport, the captain of the tug found Emily. He was an older man, a bit sloppy in appearance, but with the weathered skin and bulging muscles of a lifelong sailor. He did not salute, but rather offered a large calloused hand to shake. Emily returned the gesture, and the man said "Name's Wexel, we're a civilian crew over at the base. Heard you were in a spot of trouble and needed a tow, so we came quick as you please."

"Emily Hunt, pleased to meet you Mr. Wexel," Emily replied. "And thank you for coming so promptly. We're fairly done and tied down here, but there's quite a bit of, ah, formerly hostile forces just floating in the area. I think you may be doing some cleanup work in the near future. For now though, please accept my greatest thanks."

"Aww, don't you go all mushy on me, little miss. Not the first time we've dragged a waterlogged dragon out of here, and it won't be the last." The man took on a more serious tone before asking, "How bad was it?"

Emily looked around, frowned, and said "It's always bad, but this was perhaps worse than it could have been. We had just arrived and as much as they wouldn't admit it, everyone was tired. I... we... need some time. For a lot of things."

With that, Wexel recognized when he should step away, and did so, putting his focus and booming voice back to the task of getting Luna ready for a tug. Emily went back to the task of directing her own crew, but wished for nothing more at this point than some private time with Luna, just human and dragon. The past few days had been rough, and the past half hour even more so. There was plenty of talking, consoling, and maybe a bit of crying to be done.

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