RE: The Cat's Meow Brothel *delicious plot and yummy smut*
Even the ambient noise of the night seemed struck dumb by the statement. Trygon certainly was. His snarky grin slowly became an expression of sheer befuddlement.
"A... A student?"
His tail rose, slowly, almost invisibly in the darkness. The bladed tip caught some light from a distant streetlight, and glimmered harshly. It would be a simple thing to ram it home, and drink deep of the impudent bastard's Essence...
Or not.
This could be fun, too... After all, far too many in this, the world he had made, were distinctly disrespectful. This boy... Well, he was STUPID, but Trygon was not so detached from reality to imagine himself an intellectual colossus. What he was was canny, and that could be taught. And what the boy was, was respectful, and that was a start.
His tail settled back to the street, scales rasping on the pebbled surface. Lightning-quick, Trygon's hand shot out, and grabbed the boy high on the left arm. He squeezed tightly, his razor talons cutting into flesh as bones bent slightly under the pressure, rasping off each other in the shoulder and elbow. Trygon had no doubt the sensation was deeply painful. It was about to get worse. The dragon pulled the boy aloft by his arm, and brought the back of his scaled hand to his lips. Trygon exhaled a low, blue fire that washed over his hand, burning the exposed skin around it. Underneath his palm, however, something else was happening.
Heat sank into the skin under Trygon's hand, and deeper, soaking into the muscle. The dragon suddenly released Atredies, dropping him in a pile on the street, his arm likely fractured and possibly dislocated, besides the second and third degree burns outlining where Trygon had gripped him. The patch in the shape of the dragon's hand didn't stay unmarked for long, however, as a terrible burn wound suddenly appeared. The boy's flesh burned from the inside out, outlining a brand of a black wing. As the process completed and the wing brand stopped smouldering, Trygon nodded, pleased, as he idly rifled through his new servants mind.
"Atredies, right? You are now Cleric Atredies, with all the benefits that come therein. For starters, you should heal rather faster then you expect. Not that mark, though... No, no. That stays. That mark will outlive you. Your entire line will bear it, and they will all be beholden to me, on pain of death should they displease me... Just as you are. So don't get any silly ideas about misusing the gifts I will give you... Killing you is now even easier then it was before. And that's saying something, boy."
The dragon tilted his head, emotionlessly surveying the damage he had caused.
"Go get some rest. Your dreams will be terrifying. I once held dominion over Cruelty, and I still embody it. If you are not driven utterly insane by the things our linked minds visit on you, then you'll be ready to learn. I'll be in touch..."
With that, the dragon took wing and was gone.
