Dragons in Manhattan

Summary:
March 27, 2014: A mysterious young woman sets a dragon loose in downtown Manhattan. Mimic, Wonder Woman, and some new kid on the block decide to intervene.

Lower Manhattan

42nd Street. The street that never sleeps in the City That Never Sleeps. In the day, the traffic is non-stop. It's a given that busses will be stopping, letting passengers on and off at seemingly random moments, much to the chagrin of taxicabs and those brave enough to drive.

It's the evening when the thoroughfare truly shines. Literally. Bright neon lights light up the street to where it looks as if the sun simply didn't set on that stretch of road. Theatres, restaurants, shops that remain open late all have their marquis, their flashing lights, their names and offerings done up in brilliant neon reds, blues, and whites…


Characters

NPCs

  • None

Mood Music: n/a


Spring has finally come to the city… not that you'd know it to look at it. There's still salt staining the sidewalks and ice on the ground. A lot of the snow is gone, but that's mainly because it turned into run-off that, yes, turned into all that ice. Still, business continues as usual throughout the city, because it's New York and New York doesn't stop for anything or anyone.

Arguably one of the busiest places in New York is right outside the Port Authority. Between the construction, the hawkers, the tourists, and the commuters, there's never not a crowd there. And there's always room for a little mischief and mayhem. Standing high atop one of the old buildings, and thus well beyond the notice of just about anyone, a young woman stands. She has shocking purple hair and is dressed in a decidedly goth-punk style, with piercings all over, artfully ripped stockings, and black and white clothing that clings and shapes and yet still conveys a Rage Against The Machine sensibility. (The spikes and studs on the leather help.)

As she surveys the busy streets below, a small smile touches her lips. She raises her hand and points at a digital billboard halfway down the street, halfway up the side of a building. Just as the ad for a new cinematic blockbuster appears on the screen, she ripples her fingers in a come-hither gesture. Motes of lights explode from the screen and, in moments, the figure of a giant dragon explodes from the display into the air above the city.

The monster has a long, red body, like a snake with stubby legs. Its wings are wide and it must tuck them in close to avoid clipping buildings, which is why it banks and tries to climb higher. But the large buildings create canyons and, ultimately, it lands in the middle of one of the busiest streets in downtown Manhattan, lets out a mighty roar, and spews flame over the tops of cars that screech and crash to a halt against its body.

One of Cal's favorite spots in the city is Macy's. Its roof provides a great vantage point to watch over the city and Herald Square is always a good location to people watch. It's also close to Times Square. So when the police frequencies start yelling about a dragon by the Port Authority, he's really only a hop, skip and a jump away even if he couldn't just blink there. It's a location he's already familiar with and in only a moment, he's on the roof there in order to see what the situation is. Yup, dragon.

"Bitchin'!" he exclaims, pumping a fist triumphantly before rushing up to the window of the Big Belly Burger he was loitering in to get a better look. As if the boy with the full-body Superman-themed spandex getup hanging around BBB's with no money for the last half hour wasn't enough to attract odd looks the other customers, his brief celebration draws several stares. Once he has confirmed that there is, in fact, a dragon rampaging out there, he turns to shoot everyone else in the restaurant a pair of fully loaded finger guns as he promises, "Don't any of y'all worry — I'm gonna go take care of that little snake out there, and then I'm gonna come back so we can see where we're at on that whole 'free food for hangin' out in this dive' thing." With that, he takes a couple steps back, then dashes through the door, taking flight towards the monster as soon as he's outside again.

"Prick," one of the cashiers mutters, rolling his eyes after sharing a look with the other cashier.

The screams in the street, albeit several blocks over, are enough to catch Diana's attention. Her hearing may not be as acute as Superman's — or Superboy's, as the case may be — but it's still sharp. And the roar is distinctive, too. Things don't generally roar like that in Manhattan. She looks up, hands resting lightly on a podium sat on a stage in a dingy auditorium of a run-down inner-city school. "I'm sorry," she says, turning to the principal sitting nearby. "There's something wrong. I need to go." And that's about the only warning they get before she's a streak of blue, red, and gold out the door and away.

Mere seconds pass between the time she exits the building and the time she's soaring over the Port Authority to see the dragon turn its head and launch another gout of flame over the good citizens of New York. This one, however, aims low and towards the base of the buildings, putting civilians directly in harm's way. It's massive tail strikes out, flipping cars and smashing through fire hydrants. Bright side? There's now free flowing water in addition to all that flame.

"Artemis, grant me strength," the Amazon prays quietly, pulling out her lasso and letting it spin.

The woman on the rooftop looks up at the Amazon, who is the most obvious of the heroes presently, and frowns, expression forming a petulant pout.

Flaming civilians? Not cool. "Do dragons breathe normal fire?" Mimic wonders to himself, BLINKing down to the street and putting himself between the dragon and the people. "Guess we'll find out." Just in case they don't, he's transformed to metal but it's the Human Torch's powers he's counting on as he pulls the flames to himself to absorb them before they can do any damage to people or property.

Since Mimic seems to have volunteered himself for fire-fighting duty, Superboy makes a slight course adjustment so that he's bee-lining towards the dragon's tail, intent on grabbing it somewhere near its end to prevent the thrashing from doing any more harm. There is a mile-wide grin plastered on his face the entire way, and he only barely restrains himself from looking out over the bystanders for someone to wave to.

"Thanks for the assist, Metal Dude," he calls down to Mimic just before making contact, "Wonder Babe — don't worry, I'll save some for you guys too!"

Wonder Babe? Did some smartass really just call Diana Wonder Babe?

The Amazon is too fine a fighter to be distracted more more than a nanosecond by that insult. She's also too focussed on the dragon to worry about something so much pettier. Her lasso strikes, looping around the dragon's muzzle, cutting off the flame. And though it jerks its head wildly, it cannot break the strands of rope.

The flame it did have time to release, however, is exceptionally hot, but still natural flame. So, Mimic's powers can absolutely control it. Good thing, too, given just how hot it really is. No one would survive that level of heat, aside from someone like the Human Torch or someone else with a kinship to flame.

The dragon's wings flare out, spikes on the end breaking glass on either side of the street as it struggles to rise. Its tail flips…or tries to. The cocky kid hanging on to its tail is certainly strong enough to contain it, but that only means the rest of the monster's body thrashes instead.

Metal Dude? Mimic glances up at… Did Superman get turned into a kid? Time for that later. Fortunately, it is normal fire but the excess of heat causes him to spontaneously burst into flame, leaving impressions of his feet in the asphalt as well as the smell of burning tar. So. Snout roped. Tail grabbed. Wings and body wreaking havoc. Solution. "Wonder Woman!" he calls. "Mid-air or open field?" Till he gets an answer, he BLINKs over to a wing to grab it and try to keep it under control.

"Woah!" the clone exclaims as glass rains down over him; all of the shards seem to ricochet away from his without ever quite touching it, but the monster's wing-span still takes him somewhat by surprise. At least keeping the tail contained isn't too big a hassle — once he toughs out the initial few moments where he's stuck clinging to the still-thrashing thing until he's able to plant his feet on the ground and stabilize himself, anyway.

All he has to do now is deal with the other who-knows-how-many feet of it; easy, right? Right.

At least Mimic and Wonder Woman are here to restrain its wings and fire breath, although he's too busy grunting with the strain of holding the dragon's tail in check to offer up any more thanks. Keeping a creature of myth restrained doesn't preclude listening as his momentary teammates try to make plans, though, so once Mimic settles in on the wing, he takes it upon himself to answer the mutant's question on his own, by gritting his teeth, crouching, then launching sky-wards in the hopes of dragging the monster - or at least its back half, if Diana decides not to fly with him - along with him.

Diana doesn't know who Kal-El's cocky fanboy is, but she's actually reasonably certainly he's not a regressed Superman — mainly because she's been in regular contact with Clark since the accident in Jamestown. But, Mimic she recognizes from that same incident. And she recalls quite clearly that one of his talents includes the ability to teleport. "Away from the city!" she calls back to him, even as the boy tries to lift the monster up. "As far over the open water as you can get it." And them. That would be helpful.

The monster thrashes in the boy's grip, half of it raised up into the air, while its claws scrabble at the asphalt, ripping deep furrows in the roads. It tries to roar, but the lasso is still unbreakable and Diana hauls its head back at an awkward angle. Its wings thrust down for balance, tangling with the buildings and cars around it.

Water it is. The thing's huge and massive so 'as far over the water' isn't going to be in the middle of the Pacific. But fortunately, there's a different ocean not at all far away. Letting go of the dragon, Mimic steps back and shifts back to flesh so he can fly to a position above it. And then *BLINK* The dragon and three heroes are in mid air over the Atlantic though still in sight of land.

"C'mon — " Superboy hisses as he struggles against scrabbling claws and an unbreakable lasso to drag the rest of the stubborn behemoth into the air, " — you big, ugly — son of a — "

*BLINK!*

" — wuh — " he groans after that momentary and wholly unexpected sensation of being pulled from island to ocean. He doesn't lose his hold on the creature's tail, but he does stop yanking on it as aggressively, thanks to that disorienting moment; at this point, he's just trying to keep it under some semblance of control now that he has to remain in mid-air to do so.

" — oh — " He quickly shakes his head, then glances between the two heroes with a furrowing brow. "Figured y' meant — " Beat. "Whatever — look, can we just pummel this thing, now?" He quickly looks below them to check for passing boats, then back up at Diana and Mimic before finally just fixing his eyes squarely on the dragon with a put-upon frown.

"Y'know — now that we're away from all the people with phones, the reporters with cameras, the swooning fangirls…" he grumbles a little quieter.

On the rooftop in Manhattan, the girl with the purple hair begins to laugh. The heroes are gone, after all, teleported out over the water. And she didn't have to do anything. She leaps off the building, body piking out and arms spread like a swandive. Tilting her body forward, she tumbles end over end in graceful free-fall until she lands lightly on her feet in the middle of the street. Her fingers trail along the contours of broken cars and her feet crunch broken glass as she strolls casually through the carnage. The people around her are heedless of her passing, most either still panicked and running, having not registered the monster's disappearance, or otherwise too preoccupied with the chaos around them. Smiling as her fingertips trail off the last of the upturned cabs, she continues walking, disappearing into a purple mist that evaporates with the wind that blows out toward the sea.

Meanwhile, the dragon is now able to spread its wings more easily without the buildings to hamper it. There are no boats beneath them, in this space, so the risk of collateral damage is much less. As, yes, is the chance of anyone capturing the victory on camera. So, the dragon sweeps down its wings in a mighty whoosh, spraying up water and wrenching itself out of the heroes' grips. even Diana is forced to uncoil the lasso to keep from being thrown now that the beast is in its native element. "Yes!" she calls out to Superboy. "Subdue it before it can head for land."

The purpose of being out in the ocean? Lots and lots of water…

Mimic quickly flies higher to avoid being drenched. Water and fire don't mix well and steam means not being able to see well. "Wait until we know for sure it's going to keep attacking." he suggests.

Mimic quickly flies higher to avoid being drenched. Water and fire don't mix well and steam means not being able to see well. "Wait until we know for sure it's going to keep attacking." he suggests. "Where did it come from? Someone would have seen something that size flying in. Let it calm down and maybe we won't need to hurt it. There's nothing to break out here."

Not only does Superboy get flicked forcefully away from the dragon, some of that water it's picking up with its wings catches him on his way out; while he's more shaken and off-balance than hurt, his hair is a limp, drenched mess when he regathers himself and zooms back in towards the dragon.

Which is probably why he's just scowling, now, rather than grinning; there aren't any cameras out here to mug for anyway.

"Who even cares where it came from?!" he shoots back as he levels himself with the beast's head and cocks his right fist back. "What do you wanna do, interrogate it? Screw that!" He drops himself just a little as he closes in, and now that he's got his wits about him, none of the water spraying up from the ocean quite seems to touch him, as if it's all parting before him; when he's close enough, he shifts direction one last time, surging upwards in an attempt to deliver a mighty uppercut to the monster's jaw. He's holding back some in the hopes of just knocking it out, as he'd rather not kill the thing — even if did ruin his hair.

Diana is probably a little more accustomed to dealing with dragons than the others. It kinda comes with the territory. "I have no idea from whence it's come, but there are places I can take it where it can be made safe," she calls to Mimic. Safe both it from humanity and humanity from it. "But, I doubt it will go peaceably."

Particularly not after Superboy clocks it in the jaw. The thing rises up higher into the air, lifted by the punch and thrown back until its wings can stabilize it. Then, with a mighty roar, it calls its challenge against the young clone and then launches a gout of flame at him.

For her part, Diana believes the easiest way to stop it is to soak it. It's worked with other dragons she's faced. So, to that end, she swoops down toward the surface of the ocean and begins to fly in a tight spiral to give rise to a waterspout.

"Who cares where it came from?" Mimic repeats just to make sure he heard right. "WE care!" The 'you moron' tacked onto the end isn't spoken but can be heard anyway. "If one dragon appeared out of nowhere, who's to say there's not a second? Or a dozen on the other side of a dimensional portal to…" Dragon land. He doesn't quite sigh as Superboy punches it but he does shake his head. Seeing what Wonder Woman is doing, he tosses a spear of energy at the ocean. A sizeable portion disappears and reappears just above the dragon, getting it from above where the spout comes from below.

"Look, dude." Superboy turns away from the dragon whose ass he's pretty sure he just kicked to smirk in Mimic's direction as he hovers upright over the ocean. "See that?" He jerks a thumb above himself, keeping his eyes squarely on the mutant. "That's what's gonna happen to any other dumbass dragons that come at me from — wherever dragons come from; one, two, twelve, twenty, it doesn't matter, as long as — "

That thunderous roar offers a pretty fair hint that perhaps the dragon isn't quite as deal with as the clone thought it was; it also gives him enough time to turn and face the thing before it breathes at him.

"Motherf — " he exclaims as he pulls his arms up protectively in front of his face; the *WHOOSH* of fire washing over him drowns everything else out, including the yelps of pain that escape him once he realizes that dragon fire is, perhaps, a touch hotter than expected. To his credit, though, he manages to withstand a good few seconds of the stuff before the heat buffeting him through his telekinetic field becomes too much to bear and forces him to fly straight down into the ocean to escape it. There are a few flames burning on his costume, but they're quickly extinguished by the speed of his retreat.

Or temporary retreat, anyway; he'll be back to finish the monster off soon enough. As soon as Mimic and Wonder Woman finish softening it up for him.

And as soon as it doesn't feel like he just took a dip in an active volcano; that would be nice too.

As Superboy plummets into the ocean, the dragon is hit above and below by fonts of water. It roars again, though the whoosh of flame is extinguished by the brine that splashes over it, and its wings are made heavy by drenching. It begins to fall, and as it does, Wonder Woman soars up to bind its muzzle once more and support its body as water splashed down all around. "We need to get it some place solid," she calls to Mimic, "where we can contain it! Can you do it?"

In the city, the emergency services people are already beginning to restore order, and SRD forces have arrived in case of further attack. The only indication of the attack, however, are is the physical destruction and a single blown out digital billboard.

Mimic spares a glance for Superboy just to make sure he's okay but doesn't comment on the little over confident speech. The dragon made his point for him. Solid it is! *BLINK* This time they end up in the middle of a large grass field in the middle of Governor's Island. Over land again, Mimic shifts to metal and just lets himself fall, half a ton of hero onto the dragon's back where he can grab its neck.

"Alright!" Superboy exclaims when he bursts out of the ocean. Patches of his costume - the places where he was briefly on fire - are missing, but he otherwise seems to be more or less intact. "Look here, you scaly — "

Where did the dragon go? Where did Mimic and Wonder Woman go? The Clone of Steel's brow furrows as he quickly swivels his head around to search for them; could it be that they've all vanished back to whatever other dimensionmetal album cover the beast originated from? Just as he begins crafting the story of how he single-handedly banished it back to whence it came after the heroic sacrifices of Wonder Woman and Blinky Guy, he finally spots them on an island not too far away; with a sigh of — well, he //tells himself it's relief, anyway — he puts both fists forward and soars over, aiming for the dragon's flank.

"Hey, if you guys are gonna move the party," he calls to the other two heroes, "the least you could do is wait 'till I'm ready to come with!"

Diana pulls her lasso tight around the creature's head, as Mimic lands on its back. It tries to buck the heavy mutant off, but Diana flies out ahead of it and lands on the ground before it, forcing its head down. It's wings beat against the ground, but it is waterlogged and heavy, so it struggles to move as swiftly as it it did before. It does, however, growl with pain and shake its head, slashing its tail at Superboy as the clone rams into its flank. "By Hestia, will you STOP antagonizing it?!" Diana cries as she must yank bodily on the golden rope to keep the monster from rising again.

Oh, to have mimicked a telekinetic at the moment. Still holding onto its neck, Mimic jumps down in front of it, trying to keep its head down and as still as possible so Wonder Woman can tie it up. A glance to the side and a large swath of sod and dirt disappears to land on a wing, hopefully forcing it down and helping to keep it immobile. "Hold is steady, kid. Stop hurting the poor thing."

"You said subdue — " Superboy sputters after bouncing off of the thing's body; the flailing tail forces him to hit the deck.

"What'd you even — ugh, whatever." He pushes himself up, thankful for the telekinetic field that kept him from literally eating dirt and mutters, "It's like, just say what you mean, Jesus," beneath his breath. Once he's on his feet again, he looks left, then right, then up — and sees dirt raining down.

"Better idea," he calls out, crouching and digging his hands shallowly into the dirt, "the lady doesn't want me to antagonize it — " He squeezes his eyes shut, tenses every muscle in his body, and most importantly, concentrates on the dirt beneath and around him. A wave of it rises up from a few feet in front of him, cresting through the air in an earthen wave before finally raining down towards the dragon's back.

" — so I'm not gonna antagonize it!" Beat. "Hopefully," he tacks on, a little quieter.

The earth is enough to weight the thing down, particularly with the strength of both the mutant and the clone to help the process. Diana pulls the creature's head down and slowly coils in her rope, walking toward it like a horse whisperer toward a spooked horse. "Softly," she says gently, "peace…" She does have a way with animals. And as the thing chuffs air out of its nose and settles down, she lays her hand on its snout. The huge golden-green eyes close slowly and it's body relaxes. Light suffuses its skin, like pixels on a digital screen, and the figure breaks apart. Motes of light blink out of existence, leaving behind nothing but a muddy shell that collapses in on itself, the only indication the dragon was ever here.

As the dragon begins to relax, Mimic's hold on it relaxes proportionately until, by the time Wonder Woman touches its snout, he lets go and steps back. And then it… disappears? Disintegrates? Shifts out of this dimension? He blinks once, glancing down at the outer leftover bits and then to Diana. "Did you do that?"

"Alright!" Superboy exclaims as the dragon finally relaxes. He leaps up with a fist pump, dirt falling away freely from his hands. "Score o — "

His celebration stops short when the beast disappears, which leaves him hanging a foot or two off of the ground as he squints at the collapsing prison of mud. He slowly turns his head towards Mimic, but before he can get his question out, the mutant is asking Diana if she was responsible; he snaps his mouth shut with a frown, touches down and mutters, "Dammit — I was gonna get all of the likes, too," clearly disappointed despite only just having learned what Instagram was yesterday.

"Sooooooo…" he trails a bit more audibly as he looks between the other two heroes. "Good team up, right?" He musters a big, bright grin and shoots finger guns at each of them.

"No," the Amazon says to Mimic, looking clearly as surprised as he. "It wasn't me." She looks over to her lasso, laying in the mud and flicks it smartly. It snaps in the air, the mud falling away, and coils itself in her hand, thus allowing her to replace it on her belt. "I don't know what it was." Her eyes narrow. "And that concerns me."

She glances to Superboy, however, and a dark brow arches in askance, very little of what he said missing her sensitive ears. "Who are you?" she asks carefully, trying not to display the impatience she feels. The boy is enthusiastic, after all, but perhaps no less clueless than some of the other high schoolers she's met — children who don't understand that the things they see in video games and movies are not nearly so simple or clean in real life. "And why are you wearing Superman's shield?"

"Then I'm guessing it went back to wherever it came from." Mimic muses which, of course, offers no explain as to where or how. "Which is concerning." he agrees and then turns to look at Superboy too, in time to catch the finger pistols. "Are you serious?"

"Whaddya think the 'S' stands for?" Superboy shoots back at Mimic, his grin taking on a cocky edge; at least he puts the guns away in favor of running his fingers back through his hair, causing it to repel water from itself and fall back into something resembling its former controlled chaos as he goes. When he's done, folds his arms over that emblem and turns towards Diana.

"But nah — I mean, what else could it stand for, right? Isn't it obvious?" He opens his arms enough to bare the shield, and as he makes a few small gestures towards it with his fingers, he finishes, "I'm Superman."

Any sense of warmth drains from Diana's eyes. It's a shame neither man knows her well. They'd know how rare that is. "You are not Superman," she says bluntly to the boy. "Superman is one of my closest friends, and one of the most courageous, selfless, and humble men I know. So, I ask you again: Who are you? And why do you wear his shield?" Given that she knows Superman has lost his powers, the appearance of this boy has her deeply concerned. She knows Clark is still out there, albeit out of town. She knows this boy isn't him. The next time she asks, it will be less friendly; it will include her lasso and the Fires of Truth.

"Not to mention he isn't cocky and overconfident." Mimic adds, on top of what Wonder Woman says. He's barely met the man yet knows that much based on news reports. But it's also not his fight, so to speak, so he lets Diana handle things while he listens.

"Woah — hey!" Superboy exclaims, throwing his hands up in front of himself as Diana responds. He takes a small, reflexive step back, too. "Chill, baby, look — it's true!" His hands come together in a 'timeout' sign as he finishes, "I'm Superman…'s clone." He says the last part a little quieter, but even Mimic should be able to hear it.

The clone throws his arms over his chest and looks at the sky just past Diana. "So, y'know. Superman 2, I guess," he mutters. "Whatever." He gives his shoulders a quick shake, then sets his eyes a bit more squarely on Wonder Woman as he rattles off, "Hope you won't hold this against me when we're building our very close friendship," sans grin; some of the wind has definitely left his sails, given the way his d├ębut has gone.

"You will address me as Diana or Wonder Woman," the princess says directly, now. "Not as baby or babe or by any other pet name. Because, for the moment, we are not friends." And if he keeps this up, they won't ever be. "If you are his clone who made you and how did you come to be here? Why did they make you?" Her hand does sit on that rope once more.

Mimic's enhanced hearing picks up the info and he nods. "That explains it." The cockiness, the attitude. "Were you supposed to be used as a weapon and escaped?" Is Weapon X expanding outward from mutants?

"I don't know anything about any of that, Diana," Superboy replies. "Blinky Dude." Despite the defiant edge to his voice, he's keeping a wary eye on Diana's lasso-adjacent hand; he saw what she did to that dragon before she soothed it away. "I just — some guy in a labcoat rushed me out of some place, and then I was in Metropolis; I dunno who the guy was, even. He was just all like, 'quickly!' and 'be a hero' and 'achieve your true potential'." He takes a second to rub his chin before thoughtfully offering, "Between you and me, I think he probably had a looooot of self-help books; poor guy."

Once that pearl is offered, he gives Mimic a brisk shrug and gestures at himself as he breezily says, "I dunno, but if they did — good job, right?"

Diana regards the young man for a long time. Finally, she lets out a soft sigh, one with an edge of both frustration and resignation. She would rub her forehead, but her tiara's in the way. There's no point. "Then, you have a lot to learn," she says wearily. "And a lot to live up to, if you expect to be accorded even half the respect Superman receives." It's reasonable, she admits privately, to assume he was made to be a weapon. And that, too, is deeply concerning. "Does the man in the lab coat have a name you can recall?"

"I'll leave you both to straighten it out then." Mimic tells them. He's met Superman once; this is obviously more in Diana's ballpark. "I'm going to see if I can figure out where the dragon came from." And with that, he's gone. Back to the Port Authority to see what he can see.

"Peace, Blinky," Superboy says with mock salute for Mimic. He turns towards Diana as the mutant leaves, shaking his head. "Nope; I mean, I was kinda — out of it, y'know? 's like he drugged me or somethin'." A beat passes as he slides a hand to the back of his head, and then he quietly adds, "Kinda starting to wish I did know his name, now that I'm thinkin' about…" Before he can dwell on that thought for too long, he gives his head a shake, then folds his arms over his chest.

"Look, I appreciate the help and all, but I think I know what it takes to be Superman — I mean, like it or not, I'm still him, y'know?" He shoots her a wink, then gives her a marginally more sincere wave than the parting gesture Mimic got before lifting a foot off of the ground. "Just the younger, better version, you feel me? Anyway — nice meetin' you, Wonder — Woman; maybe we can get together and fight some orcs or something next time, huh?"

What Wonder Woman wants to do is drag the clone back… well someplace she can question him further. Particularly since it's clear to her he has no clue what he's talking about, when it comes to Superman.

What she actually does, however, is take a step back, releasing him to go. Chances are it won't be hard to find a glory hound like him again. "I'm sure we'll meet again," she says simply. It probably won't be to fight orcs, however. But, only the Fates know for sure.

"If you wanna make extra sure, you could always hit me up at — " he rattles of an email address and seals it with another wink.

Where or why he has an email address when he probably doesn't own a computer(or even a cell phone) is, perhaps, a less important mystery than the one of his origins.

"Peace out, princess!" He gives her a final wave, then flies off to look for trouble elsewhere — or, more likely, cause some.


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