Miles from Nowhere [1x1]
<img style="Owen Flayred" src="http://i1299.photobucket.com/albums/ag76/danixiewrites/owenFlayred_zpsqax4owau.png" style="max-width:25%;float:right;margin:0 0 18px 18px;]Owen Flayred sped through a chat to her underlings, fingers flying over the on-screen letters, emerald and red eyes narrowed at the messages that came back. "No," she growled at her phone as if she were talking directly to a person instead of yelling at a machine, "you will NOT use the puce. Verdant Shores. Accept no substitutes!"
<font color="#ec7f99]@ If they can't mix it right, we'll take our business elsewhere.[/font]
<font color="#be8986]-- Bosslady. There's nowhere else open on a Sunday.[/font]
<font color="#ec7f99]@ Fine. Our future business.[/font]
<font color="#be8986]--This one's looking much better but I still think it's more Shamrock than Shores.[/font]
<font color="#ec7f99]@ Mpfh! Go pick up Lars. He can mix it for them.[/font]
<font color="#be8986]--They won't like that.[/font]
<font color="#ec7f99]@ <img style="" src="http://i1299.photobucket.com/albums/ag76/danixiewrites/dontcare_zpsft8t7hpk.gif" style="max-width:100%;]
@ How do you hire someone for a job then not make sure they can do it?[/font]
She didn't give a flying flip if they had 12 unsellable pints of off-green paint before they were done; she invested enough of her time and money to get it right. Her clients knew it, her more labor-intensive employees knew it, and it was why she did so well for herself.
She shoved back a mass of brown dreadlocks, irritated for all that she'd had a half-pot of coffee and it wasn't even noon.
But it was close enough to start looking for a cab. No such thing as late for a lunch meeting like today's. It'd likely be an even bigger debacle than incompetent paint mixers; meeting with her dragon kin over sushi. The elders had "ways" and "rules" and "sayings" and Owen just wanted to get things done, stop wasting her time with superstitions and whatever...just get back to leaving shiny, pretty things and places in the world.
Tapping out another series of commands to the duo who was supposed to be disassembling a particularly hideous bathroom, Owen strolled toward the edge of the sidewalk. One thumb hiked out even as she continued texting. One short ride later and she'd put her calls on silent mode--the last thing she needed was the elders calling her out on her tech.
<font color="#a89a9e]"Flayred."[/font]
Shit. They'd beaten her there, which meant even at 7 minutes early she was late.
<font color="#ec7f99]"Good morrow, Elder Caz."[/font]
<font color="#a89a9e]"Don't you good morrow me, youngling."[/font]
<font color="#ec7f99]Ah. This is off to a great start.[/font] She slid into the booth with five other dragons and didn't wait for them to offer food before she pulled over a spicy tamari roll. Shoving it into her mouth, she could practically feel the disapproval radiating from her dragon-kin. Nothing new. She'd grown up a golden child but now that she was middling 20s, she couldn't seem to do anything right based on their traditions. What was it going to be today? That she needed to settle down and build her own horde? How trite.
"You recall when we last spoke...about your dragon?" her mother asked as she offered a glass of water. "About honoring your abilities and learning how to use them properly?"
Owen frowned. <font color="#ec7f99]Ah. Training.[/font] <font color="#ec7f99]"I don't need to learn how to use my dragon. There's been no cause to use it in my entire life--why would I start inviting it to take over now? What possible benefit does that net me?"[/font]
She was comfortable. Happy. Busy. Well-off, and no dragonblood was going to screw everything up, nor burn everything down.
"By shoving your dragon back, you are harming yourself, child," another elder contributed. "You continue to refuse our council, deny your blood."
<font color="#ec7f99]"Look, the only one it's bothering is YOU. There's nothing wrong with ME."[/font] Owen shoveled down another series of rice-covered fish and wasabi and grinned. <font color="#ec7f99]"Why can't I just live the way I want?"[/font]
<font color="#a89a9e]"We can't take the chance your dragon will correct the course of nature and assert itself in a populated area."[/font]
Reasonable, except her dragon was pleased as punch to be making pretty things. She was in no danger of transforming--unless she purposefully called it out. Owen opened her mouth but Elder Caz continued, <font color="#a89a9e]"Because you continue to ignore our warnings, we have to take action."[/font]
<font color="#ec7f99]"Action?"[/font] It was followed by a sudden crackle of fire and Owen yelped as it raced toward her. Were they going to force her to change HERE? So much for concern over a populated area...
The fire pulsed in the middle of the damned restaurant. It consumed her, wrapping her like a cocoon until she could no longer see her companions. And then it was gone, and she stood in the middle of Verdant Shores. Or the nature equivalent of the paint color she'd wanted--it was perfect and it was everywhere and it was sticky.
Heat didn't bother her but humidity? No sign of shelter where she could keep her hair from frizzing out to the moon? Used to the usual illusion-magic of her kin, she sighed. <font color="#ec7f99]"Where did you pretend to drop me, ye olde mouth-breather?"[/font]
No cell reception. <font color="#ec7f99]UUUGHH. [/font] Shouldn't have been, not with an illusion. But she supposed they were pulling out all the stops. <font color="#ec7f99] "Taking action. Pfft."[/font] Her phone had about a 30% charge left, and she had a battery pack in her oversized purse, so that'd buy at least another day until her punishment was over and she woke up in civilization. Longer if she wasn't on it constantly, and in the middle of a fucking jungle illusion...she might not have much cause to use it beyond the flashlight.
Out of habit she scrolled through her gif folder, found one, and crossed her eyes. Owen's laugh came out with an edge of panic as a centipede crawled up a branch near her face. <font color="#ec7f99]Real. Live. Giant. Bug.[/font]
<font color="#ec7f99]Oh my god. They didn't...they teleported me. I'm actually in a jungle. This is an actual fucking jungle.[/font]
"Is this supposed to appeal to my lizard?" she grumbled. "Jungles have bugs and spiders and snakes and FUCK YOU ELDER CAZ!"
<div style="text-align:center;]<img style="" src="http://i1299.photobucket.com/albums/ag76/danixiewrites/thor_zpspmyp4uak.gif" style="font-size:10pt;max-width:100%;][/align]
<font color="#ec7f99]@ If they can't mix it right, we'll take our business elsewhere.[/font]
<font color="#be8986]-- Bosslady. There's nowhere else open on a Sunday.[/font]
<font color="#ec7f99]@ Fine. Our future business.[/font]
<font color="#be8986]--This one's looking much better but I still think it's more Shamrock than Shores.[/font]
<font color="#ec7f99]@ Mpfh! Go pick up Lars. He can mix it for them.[/font]
<font color="#be8986]--They won't like that.[/font]
<font color="#ec7f99]@ <img style="" src="http://i1299.photobucket.com/albums/ag76/danixiewrites/dontcare_zpsft8t7hpk.gif" style="max-width:100%;]
@ How do you hire someone for a job then not make sure they can do it?[/font]
She didn't give a flying flip if they had 12 unsellable pints of off-green paint before they were done; she invested enough of her time and money to get it right. Her clients knew it, her more labor-intensive employees knew it, and it was why she did so well for herself.
She shoved back a mass of brown dreadlocks, irritated for all that she'd had a half-pot of coffee and it wasn't even noon.
But it was close enough to start looking for a cab. No such thing as late for a lunch meeting like today's. It'd likely be an even bigger debacle than incompetent paint mixers; meeting with her dragon kin over sushi. The elders had "ways" and "rules" and "sayings" and Owen just wanted to get things done, stop wasting her time with superstitions and whatever...just get back to leaving shiny, pretty things and places in the world.
Tapping out another series of commands to the duo who was supposed to be disassembling a particularly hideous bathroom, Owen strolled toward the edge of the sidewalk. One thumb hiked out even as she continued texting. One short ride later and she'd put her calls on silent mode--the last thing she needed was the elders calling her out on her tech.
<font color="#a89a9e]"Flayred."[/font]
Shit. They'd beaten her there, which meant even at 7 minutes early she was late.
<font color="#ec7f99]"Good morrow, Elder Caz."[/font]
<font color="#a89a9e]"Don't you good morrow me, youngling."[/font]
<font color="#ec7f99]Ah. This is off to a great start.[/font] She slid into the booth with five other dragons and didn't wait for them to offer food before she pulled over a spicy tamari roll. Shoving it into her mouth, she could practically feel the disapproval radiating from her dragon-kin. Nothing new. She'd grown up a golden child but now that she was middling 20s, she couldn't seem to do anything right based on their traditions. What was it going to be today? That she needed to settle down and build her own horde? How trite.
"You recall when we last spoke...about your dragon?" her mother asked as she offered a glass of water. "About honoring your abilities and learning how to use them properly?"
Owen frowned. <font color="#ec7f99]Ah. Training.[/font] <font color="#ec7f99]"I don't need to learn how to use my dragon. There's been no cause to use it in my entire life--why would I start inviting it to take over now? What possible benefit does that net me?"[/font]
She was comfortable. Happy. Busy. Well-off, and no dragonblood was going to screw everything up, nor burn everything down.
"By shoving your dragon back, you are harming yourself, child," another elder contributed. "You continue to refuse our council, deny your blood."
<font color="#ec7f99]"Look, the only one it's bothering is YOU. There's nothing wrong with ME."[/font] Owen shoveled down another series of rice-covered fish and wasabi and grinned. <font color="#ec7f99]"Why can't I just live the way I want?"[/font]
<font color="#a89a9e]"We can't take the chance your dragon will correct the course of nature and assert itself in a populated area."[/font]
Reasonable, except her dragon was pleased as punch to be making pretty things. She was in no danger of transforming--unless she purposefully called it out. Owen opened her mouth but Elder Caz continued, <font color="#a89a9e]"Because you continue to ignore our warnings, we have to take action."[/font]
<font color="#ec7f99]"Action?"[/font] It was followed by a sudden crackle of fire and Owen yelped as it raced toward her. Were they going to force her to change HERE? So much for concern over a populated area...
The fire pulsed in the middle of the damned restaurant. It consumed her, wrapping her like a cocoon until she could no longer see her companions. And then it was gone, and she stood in the middle of Verdant Shores. Or the nature equivalent of the paint color she'd wanted--it was perfect and it was everywhere and it was sticky.
Heat didn't bother her but humidity? No sign of shelter where she could keep her hair from frizzing out to the moon? Used to the usual illusion-magic of her kin, she sighed. <font color="#ec7f99]"Where did you pretend to drop me, ye olde mouth-breather?"[/font]
No cell reception. <font color="#ec7f99]UUUGHH. [/font] Shouldn't have been, not with an illusion. But she supposed they were pulling out all the stops. <font color="#ec7f99] "Taking action. Pfft."[/font] Her phone had about a 30% charge left, and she had a battery pack in her oversized purse, so that'd buy at least another day until her punishment was over and she woke up in civilization. Longer if she wasn't on it constantly, and in the middle of a fucking jungle illusion...she might not have much cause to use it beyond the flashlight.
Out of habit she scrolled through her gif folder, found one, and crossed her eyes. Owen's laugh came out with an edge of panic as a centipede crawled up a branch near her face. <font color="#ec7f99]Real. Live. Giant. Bug.[/font]
<font color="#ec7f99]Oh my god. They didn't...they teleported me. I'm actually in a jungle. This is an actual fucking jungle.[/font]
"Is this supposed to appeal to my lizard?" she grumbled. "Jungles have bugs and spiders and snakes and FUCK YOU ELDER CAZ!"
<div style="text-align:center;]<img style="" src="http://i1299.photobucket.com/albums/ag76/danixiewrites/thor_zpspmyp4uak.gif" style="font-size:10pt;max-width:100%;][/align]
Dreams come in a size too big so we can grow into them.
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