Asch the Bloody (
bloodyashes) wrote in
lazybox2016-11-15 08:36 am
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[Dragon AU] Once more into the breach
Military work. An obligation to any dragon who wanted to live peacefully - to have even a chance of living to old age. Most humans regarded it as a way for adolescent dragons to burn off their hormonal urges relatively safely, especially the males.
The dragons themselves knew that the reality was a bit more complicated. Young dragons had a need to claim territory, but with their own populations dwindling and human populations surging, there was very little territory left they could claim. And with most matings chosen by genetic matches, there wasn't a need to impress potential mates anyway.
So they sent their young to defend human territory instead. It had the side benefit of making the humans think they were tamed, safely under control, and so it protected their kind as a whole. Human technology, quick to develop, could easily spell the end of dragons entirely if their kind was seen as a threat, instead of allies.
By the time they hit puberty, most dragons knew this. It didn't mean they didn't chafe under it, especially those with more stubborn and independent personalities. The dragon seated in a human chair, trying to ignore how his shoulders itched under the shape-changing magic, was a particularly magnificent example of that.
The flight commander's office was small, especially for a facility designed to accommodate dragons, and even though his human shape fit inside perfectly well, Asch couldn't help but feel caged in. Part of it, he knew, was the lack of windows, which itched at him more than it would even most other dragons. Claustrophobia and large creatures didn't get along well.
Military dragons were appointed flight partners for their term of service; sometimes it was more than one, depending on how lucky the human was. Dragons could restore themselves with magic and recover from injury much better than their human counterparts - a benefit to shapeshifting, certainly - but sharing that healing outside of a pair bond was difficult. And true bonds were rare these days.
All the better, as far as Asch was concerned. He wanted this section of his life over with as quickly as possible. Not that he hated humans - just the opposite. He found them endlessly entertaining and innovative... Outside of the rigid structure of the military.
Inside of it, well, he'd already had a face-off with the commander about the length of his human form's hair. The bright crimson, at least, had gone un-commented-on, as many humans knew that bold colorations were critical points of pride, but being forced to keep it short as well...
Well, it simply wasn't happening. He was already going without his ornaments and usual loose clothes, not to mention going along with the polite cultural requirement of maintaining an entirely human form. For this, the first meeting with his assigned partner, he could manage polite, even if it chafed.
And did it ever chafe. Asch flicked his eyes up at the commander before returning his attention to his dull human-shape nails. He'd at least made a good impression by being early. And he was good at most of the actual tasks the military required of their dragons - a fast, strong flier who could easily bear a rider, skilled at magic, not afraid of violence. For his skill, they were willing to let some things slide.
But not everything. And one of the things they weren't going to slide on was 'no solo operations.'
He really hoped that whoever came through that door was tolerable, or the next couple of years were going to be hell.
The dragons themselves knew that the reality was a bit more complicated. Young dragons had a need to claim territory, but with their own populations dwindling and human populations surging, there was very little territory left they could claim. And with most matings chosen by genetic matches, there wasn't a need to impress potential mates anyway.
So they sent their young to defend human territory instead. It had the side benefit of making the humans think they were tamed, safely under control, and so it protected their kind as a whole. Human technology, quick to develop, could easily spell the end of dragons entirely if their kind was seen as a threat, instead of allies.
By the time they hit puberty, most dragons knew this. It didn't mean they didn't chafe under it, especially those with more stubborn and independent personalities. The dragon seated in a human chair, trying to ignore how his shoulders itched under the shape-changing magic, was a particularly magnificent example of that.
The flight commander's office was small, especially for a facility designed to accommodate dragons, and even though his human shape fit inside perfectly well, Asch couldn't help but feel caged in. Part of it, he knew, was the lack of windows, which itched at him more than it would even most other dragons. Claustrophobia and large creatures didn't get along well.
Military dragons were appointed flight partners for their term of service; sometimes it was more than one, depending on how lucky the human was. Dragons could restore themselves with magic and recover from injury much better than their human counterparts - a benefit to shapeshifting, certainly - but sharing that healing outside of a pair bond was difficult. And true bonds were rare these days.
All the better, as far as Asch was concerned. He wanted this section of his life over with as quickly as possible. Not that he hated humans - just the opposite. He found them endlessly entertaining and innovative... Outside of the rigid structure of the military.
Inside of it, well, he'd already had a face-off with the commander about the length of his human form's hair. The bright crimson, at least, had gone un-commented-on, as many humans knew that bold colorations were critical points of pride, but being forced to keep it short as well...
Well, it simply wasn't happening. He was already going without his ornaments and usual loose clothes, not to mention going along with the polite cultural requirement of maintaining an entirely human form. For this, the first meeting with his assigned partner, he could manage polite, even if it chafed.
And did it ever chafe. Asch flicked his eyes up at the commander before returning his attention to his dull human-shape nails. He'd at least made a good impression by being early. And he was good at most of the actual tasks the military required of their dragons - a fast, strong flier who could easily bear a rider, skilled at magic, not afraid of violence. For his skill, they were willing to let some things slide.
But not everything. And one of the things they weren't going to slide on was 'no solo operations.'
He really hoped that whoever came through that door was tolerable, or the next couple of years were going to be hell.
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"I think it's in the high fifties or low sixties. There's a cold front coming through in a few days, though. Will you be okay?"
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Will Asch get sick in the cold? Would it cause him permanent harm? Maybe they'll be transferred to a warmer climate once they complete training.
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Soma heads for the door, holding it open for Asch. He can't help worrying about the impending winter. While he enjoys the cold, the thought of Asch being miserable in the snow makes him unhappy. Just how much warmth can illusory clothing provide? Does Asch have a spell that will help?
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The walk out to the practice field is brisk and a bit breezy but thankfully quick. Already there are several other dragon and rider pairs waiting, and by the time everyone arrives there are a dozen total. The drill sergeant and his dragon are both grizzled veterans, powerful and as stern as they are scarred. The sergeant gives Soma a glare, perhaps expecting shenanigans from the unit's oddball, but Soma draws himself up into perfect attention.
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"Alright, you greenies! Time to sort out which of you can stick to your lizards without falling off or puking your guts out! Mount up!" Of course, the drillmaster doesn't tell them how to fix their safety rigs. He wants to see who bothered to study ahead.
Soma relaxes from attention and turns to Asch with a faint smile. "Ready when you are, partner."
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Down the row, not all the riders are so lucky; many of the other dragons only go as far down as they have to, forcing the humans to hop a bit in order to get up to the saddle.
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Soma gracefully climbs up onto the saddle, making sure he doesn't step directly on Asch's scales and feathers. Settling onto Asch's back, he starts gathering the various straps, needing only a cursory glance to know which ones go where. Before some of the other riders are even seated, Soma has himself securely buckled in. The drillmaster's dragon huffs in grudging approval.
"Well, at least somebody knows what the hell they're doing! You all give Cruz a bunch of shit but he's got something over the rest of you maggots!" The drillmaster's barked shout earns Soma more than a few dirty looks from the other riders.
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He fastens the case with the oxygen mask onto its designated spot, just in case. A few other riders brought theirs as well, so maybe they really will do high altitude tests today, or at least give the riders who are prepared a chance to do a little free-flying after orientation drills.
Once everyone is mounted, the drillmaster makes the rounds to check safety rigs and chew out the riders who fouled up the straps. It takes a good ten minutes before everyone is lined up and ready.
"Pace out for takeoff! I don't want you idiots bumping into each other and crashing on your first day! First pair on that end of the line, you're cleared to go!" Soma and Asch are third from that end of the line. Asch might be able to feel his rider trembling with anticipation.
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Yes, Soma, your dragon is the snooty one, just in case you'd forgotten. As the second pair goes for the runway, Asch stands and starts stretching his wings in preparation.
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"Don't hold back, Asch. Show me just how fast you can fly," he breathes quietly, his voice shaking with excitement.
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The first couple of down-flaps are the most intense, but even the short run yesterday is enough to give Asch an edge over the others in gauging how much extra power he's going to need for the additional weight of saddle and human. (It's quite a bit; he's still runty and Soma is not exactly the smallest human of the batch.) But dreary and chill as the sky is that morning, it's open and free, and soon Asch is soaring and circling easily, ignoring the half-formation of the other dragons and riders until actually given the order to form up.
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"This is incredible!" Soma laughs, freeing one hand from a strap so he can rub Asch's neck. "If I had wings, I'd never want to land!"
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"How long can you fly if you can catch good thermals? I guess even if you're just holding your wings out and not flapping them, you still get tired eventually. And have you been high altitude tested yet?"
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At least no one else can hear the endless curiosity spouting from his back. [Long enough that the thermals don't really matter; you don't get much benefit from them at night. Up here, maybe 36 hours if the weather is decent. Longer when it's warmer, shorter when I have to worry about freezing rain in my feathers.]
A strong downbeat of his wings. [And high-altitude is a requirement for combat and travel heavy units, you know. Everybody but search and rescue.]
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But even with all the questions, there's no hiding the excited trembling of his body even through the saddle. He's finally in the air on a real dragon, not a simulator, and he's ready to burst with the thrill of it.
The drillmaster and his dragon take the lead of the formation. "Time for turning and formation drills! Follow my lead, don't break formation, and don't slam into each other!" They suddenly bank right, expecting the rest of the squad to copy them by visual cue rather than direct orders.
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There's a single sharp flap as they begin the turn - and then Asch's wings tuck in as the dragon to their right takes the turn too wide and he has to drop out of the way of the other male's wings. He's not entirely sure it isn't intentional, but he's not the one who gets snapped at for poor turning. With his smaller size, he can out-turn any of the dragons up here and they all know it.
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"Are you okay?" Soma's eyes scan the squad. "Maybe we should hang back a bit, give those guys some space."
WOW I THOPUGHT I REPLIED TO THIS comes back three days later WOW UI THOUGHT I REPLIED TO THIS
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The next attempt at turning in formation goes a little better, then better still, as the dragons become accustomed to following the leader.
"Eventually they're going to have us shift so we each get a turn leading. Can't wait to see the crap the others get up to when it's our turn." The sarcasm practically drips out of Soma's words.
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