It had taken a while, but Flikk had found a place where the three of them could attempt to exhaust Tajakith's seemingly boundless energy. The room they'd been given was hardly the place for three dragons to dart about. Flikk didn't feel like being forced to explain again why the couch was a broken mess of splinters and upholstery. The first time had been awkward enough, no thanks to Vikktor's hysterical laughter.
The room was huge, scattered with obstacles and things Flikk could only assume were toys designed for creatures bigger than most children ever became. It was the perfect place to give Tajakith the play he desired (and demanded), and possibly teach the child some of the fighter's art at the same time.
Perfect plan. Only one problem.
Tajakith insisted on playing in their dragon-forms.
Flikk mentally cursed as he tripped over his own four feet for what seemed like the thousandth time and went tumbling face first into the floor. Tajakith's light giggling and Vikktor's deeper guffaws followed him down. He hated his dragon-form, he truly did. Vikktor was so... so at ease in his own dragon-body, never seeming to put a foot wrong, never second-guessing himself. It was enough to drive a man mad.
Tajakith's paws began to wrap around Flikk's tail, causing Flikk to yelp and swish his tail to the side, safely out of range of the hatchling's sharp beak.
"How come this always turns into 'pick on Flikk'?" Flikk cried out as he slithered his body away from Vikktor's lunge and scrambled to his feet once more. He shifted until he could see both Vikktor and Tajakith, then began to slowly circle them, his heart screaming for revenge for his many humiliations.
Tajakith grinned and matched him pace for pace, bouncing from foot to foot, his little wings rustling with excitement. "Then stop taking this so seriously!"
Vikktor was circling in the opposite direction, forcing Flikk to divide his attention between the tiny terror before him and the giant terror that was trying to get behind him. He knew this game, knew where it was heading, and thanked the stars that Taj was still learning the fighter's art, as the dragonet's gaze continued to flicker between Flikk and Vikktor.
The world crystallized. When they lunged, he was ready, had been ready, had known that it was coming. His hind legs coiled and sent him bounding across the room and up onto a convenient perch.
Flikk immediately spun back around, tail lashing and wings partially spreading to help maintain his balance. He took the others in with a glance (Taj blinking in confusion at Vikktor, who was slowly hauling himself back to his feet, neither yet aware of where their target had gone, both moving as if caught in a Slow spell) judged the distance, and leapt. Vikktor crumpled under him, as Flikk wrapped a paw around the other's neck just behind the head and crouched just so to compensate for Vikktor's greater bulk.
"Woah..." Tajakith breathed, his eyes wide.
Vikktor roared out in laughter, tail thumping the floor hard enough to make Flikk wince.
"There's my Flikk!" Vikktor finally managed to say between gales of laughter. "Finally got you pissed enough to thrash me, didn't I?"
Flikk grit his teeth, choking back the urge to shove Vikktor's face literally into the floor, but compromised with himself by leaning harder on Vikktor's upper body, pinning the obnoxious golden dragon hard enough to partially smother that annoying laughter. Vikktor, however, was as unphased as usual. It felt... reassuringly familiar, no matter the strange forms they were wearing. And any minute...
A deep growl ripped from his throat as Vikktor writhed just so and threw Flikk off his back. Human instincts screamed for him to tuck and roll, but his body had other ideas -- his wings opened with a cr-ack and beat twice, lifting him out of the tumble and giving him enough control to land with something resembling grace. He used the last of the momentum from the throw in a quick crow-hop to the side, and brought his closed fist down on the back of Vikktor's head as the other tried to pounce.
"How'd you do that?" Tajakith asked, as he cautiously approached the two. "You just... I couldn't even see you!"
Flikk felt his cheeks heat and looked away, unable to meet the dragonet's worshipful gaze. It reminded him too much of other youths, other children he and Vikktor had trained to become mercenaries, other young men and women that he had seen set upon pyres when the odds finally caught up with them. Those were wounds that the Whorl hadn't been capable of lifting from him.
To cover his hesitance, he tried to take a step away from Vikktor, to give the other room to rise, but as his fury at the other drained away, so too did his unconscious acceptance of his body; the world lost its sharp-edged brilliance, his feet instantly became tangled, and Flikk found himself in a heap on the floor once more, trying to sort his limbs apart.
Vikktor chuckled softly and sat up, rubbing at the back of his head with a paw. "Vicious as ever, Flikk."
"You're just losing your edge," he snapped, as he slowly pulled his limbs back under control and sat up as well. He glanced at Tajakith, nodding slightly. "To answer your question, if you knew how to look, you'd be able to see me. I'm not moving that quickly."
"I'd contest that." Vikktor grumbled. "You're definitely faster now than you were."
A small furrow formed between Tajakith's eyes. "Fliiiiikk, you're speaking in riddles. How's it matter how I look?" He tilted his head, then grinned, "Am I supposed to gaze at you adoringly? Or maybe scowl like a one eyed pirate? How about this? I call it my 'Vikktor's been annoying Flikk' expression!"
Flikk blinked in surprise, then gave a soft laugh as Tajakith went from looking like a love struck girl, to trying to keep one eye closed as he scowled and let his beak gape in an attempt to be intimidating, to simply glowering darkly at Vikktor and flexing his front claws.
Vikktor pressed a paw to his chest and flared his small wings dramatically as he reared back in mock fear. "Flikk! Partner, dearest, please answer the squirt before he goes for the throat! I'm too young to die!"
"Maybe I should let him," Flikk said, as he rolled his eyes at the dramatics. Vikktor never changed. "As for how you look, are you looking with these," he leaned forward to tap Tajakith between his eyes, then once more on the top of the kid's head, "or this?"
"Eyes or brain? Flikk, are you secretly a tourist-trap psychic on the side?" Tajakith protested.
He couldn't help but chuckle at the thought, shaking his head in denial. "Never fear, I leave that to the professional silver-tongues. Sorry. What I meant was, are you acting on instincts, or relying on your brain to analyze everything?"
Tajakith blinked, opened his beak to respond, then closed it with a click and a frown as he thought it over. Finally, he responded, "My brain, I guess. Why's it matter?"
"Because instincts are faster, and more accurate if you train them right."
A small, sly smirk suddenly appeared on Tajakith's face, but his voice remained as innocent as ever, "You mean like how you can't walk a straight line, but you just thrashed Vikktor?"
Flikk frowned and glanced off to the side, considering Tajakith's words. It made sense, instinct versus thought, but was that the answer? Simply not thinking about it? But how did you not think about something like the fact that you had too many limbs, or a tail nearly as long as your body?
"--know you hated it, but maybe it would help?" Vikktor was saying, drawing him back to the present. "Yo, Blue-boy, you heard a word I said in there?"
Flikk mock-glared down at Vikktor and batted the golden paw out of his face. "I rarely listen to your prattle. What were babbling this time?"
"Meditation," Vikktor made his customary paw-twirl 'woowoo' gesture as he spoke the word, "and how it might help. Y'know, if this is a whole mind-over-matter thing like the squirt's implying."
Suddenly, the rest of Vikktor's half-heard words made sense, and Flikk prayed for patience. He would not resort to name calling. He would not resort to name calling. "I don't hate it, Vikktor. I hate how you constantly bug me while I'm trying to do it, so I stopped."
"Oh! Well! Why didn't you say so?"
Flikk twitched. Prayed for more patience. Repeated his mantra of no-name-calling. Tried to speak as civilly as possible. "I did."
"Huh," Vikktor scratched at the back of his head with a paw. "I don't remember that."
Well, okay, maybe a bit of name-calling was acceptable.
"Of course you don't, you damn drunken bear! Every time I tried to do it, you decided to get drunk with the rest of the company and start singing those stupid songs!"
"Songs? What songs?" Tajakith asked.
Vikktor chuckled and leaned in close to Tajakith, speaking in a stage whisper, "The greatest songs man's ever invented. Best of all, Flikk turns brilliant scarlet at even the hint of one. Only mercenary I've ever seen that can't hold his liquor and blushes like an innocent at drinking songs."
"I can too hold my liquor!" Flikk protested weakly, already seeing where this was headed and not liking it.
"What, no protestation about blushing?" Vikktor gave Flikk a predatory grin and sidled up to him. "Come out drinking with me tonight, then, pretty boy, since you insist you can hold your beer."
He glanced at Tajakith, who looked both perplexed and fascinated, and dredged up a bit of resistance. "No. Someone needs to stay with Tajakith."
"Awww, Flikk! I'm a big boy!" Tajakith whined playfully.
"'Xactly! Squirt's a big boy now, he can survive one measly night without you hovering over him every second."
Flikk sighed heavily. Drinking with Vikktor was always an adventure.
"Come on, you know you want to," Vikktor teased. "You haven't had more'n a glass of that prissy wine in months."
It was inevitable. Vikktor wouldn't leave him alone until he went out drinking with the man, so... he might as well get it over with.
"Fine. Just, no bawdy songs," Flikk grumbled his agreement, then winced as Vikktor practically knocked him over with an enthusiastic slap on his back. Human or dragon, Vikktor still out-classed him in sheer strength.
"Gotcha. No bawdy songs in the bar."
At least, Flikk mused drunkenly, as he leaned on Vikktor, the two of them swaying down the empty hallway together. At least he didn't start singing while in the bar.
For Vikktor was singing, and Flikk had no idea where the man had learned the song. It wasn't one Flikk had ever heard before, and he'd thought Vikktor had exposed him to every bawdy song out there.
"Dooo virgins taste bett'r than those who're not? Are they salty, or sweet'r, more juicy or whaaat?" Vikktor sang enthusiastically, his swaying steps keeping vague time with his drunken words. "Do ya sav'r 'em slowly? Gulp 'em domn on th'spot? Dooo virgins taste bett'r than those who're not?"
Flikk winced and glanced around the deserted hallway, thankful that this area, at least, cleared out this late at night. He had no idea how he'd deal with a dragon running across them while Vikktor was roaring out some song about them eating virgins.
"We'd like t'be shed ya, and many've tried! But none can get through yer thick, scaly hide! We hope that some day, some brave knight'll come by, cause we can't wait 'round till yer too fat to fly!" Vikktor broke off his singing and giggled, as he pulled Flikk closer to him and 'murmured' loudly, "This next verse's a hoot, gotta thank wasserface fer teachin' this t'me."
"Why'n fury are you singing 'bout dragons eating virgins?" Flikk hissed.
"Would y'rather I sang 'bout sheep?" Vikktor grinned evilly and broke out into a different song. "Bring me some whiskey, mother! 'm feelin' frisky, mother! Need a sheep t'keep me warm through th'night! Need a lover, mother. No, not my brother--"
Flikk clamped his hand over Vikktor's mouth as quickly as he could, feeling his cheeks flame in embarrassment as Vikktor kept right on singing, though the lyrics were thankfully muffled into incomprehensibility. This was why he didn't get drunk with Vikktor!
"I don't wanna even know where y'learned those," Flikk muttered as he tried to guide them both towards their room. "Now shaddup, don't wanna wake Taj."
Vikktor pried Flikk's hand from his mouth, "There's this 'mazing collection a'songs at Akelara, from hundreds a'diff'rent worlds. Got plenty'a bawdy songs in it."
"Need t'get you banned from th'library, then," Flikk said, as he shoved the door to their place open and stumbled in. He tried to pry Vikktor off of him, so that he could go to his own room, but the man clung like a burr. This, too, was usual, and Flikk put up only a token protest before giving in. He was too drunk to care.
All that mattered was that the bed was soft, Vikktor didn't smother him in the night, and that he could finally pass out.
"Fliiiikk! Viiiiikktoooor!" Tajakith's voice bounced around the small apartment, waking Flikk from his blissful rest.
He took a long moment to orient himself before he dared to open his eyes. Fully clothed, check. Heavy weight across his chest, likely Vikktor, check. Proto-headache still sleeping at the back of his mind, check.
Why do I go drinking with the bear, again? Flikk mentally grumbled as he carefully opened his eyes. The lack of light in the room let his hangover remain sleeping for the moment, for which Flikk was glad. It was going to take--
Light flooded into the room as Tajakith shoved the door open and peered in. "Oh! There you both are! Why are you sleeping in the same bed?"
Flikk groaned and threw an arm over his eyes, fighting against the headache that had woken up with a vengeance at the light and sound. "Not so loud, Taj, please..."
The bed flexed as Tajakith leapt up onto in and walked up next to Flikk's head, weaving his way around Vikktor's splayed limbs and Flikk's trapped body.
"What's wrong, Flikk?" Tajakith asked, remembering to keep his voice lowered.
"Don't ever go out drinking with Vikktor," Flikk said.
"Then why do you, if you hate it so much?"
Flikk paused and thought as hard as the headache let him, before shrugging and saying, "Don't know. If you ever think of a reason, let me know. Can you help me up? Vik's got me pinned better than normal."
"This happens often?" Tajakith asked, as he tried to carefully pry Vikktor's arm off of Flikk's chest.
He nodded as he helped the dragonet out. A few long minutes later, Flikk was able to slither off the bed and onto the floor, using that momentum to pull the rest him out from under Vikktor. He laid there, slowly stretching out his cramped wings, and wondered how long it would take him to get used to having such strange appendages. They seemed designed to get in his way, to cramp at odd times, to keep him from sleeping comfortably no matter how he lay.
"Flikk?"
"Sorry," Flikk muttered. "Trying to get my wings to stop cramping."
Tajakith jumped down and nosed at him, then reared back, wings fanning at the air, "Phaw, you stink!"
Flikk chuckled as he pushed himself up off the floor and staggered towards the bathroom, tugging off bits of his outfit as he went. "That's what happens when y'get drunk then go to bed without washing."
He felt Tajakith follow him into the bathroom, but for once he couldn't raise the will to care that the dragonet was watching him undress and climb into the shower. In fact, he didn't even really mind when Tajakith clambered into the shower with him, and began playing in the spray as he washed.
The water felt blessedly cool against his skin, as it sluiced away the sweat and alcohol stench of the night before. This was definitely one thing he would miss if he was suddenly shoved back onto his home world, the ability to take showers and get clean whenever he wanted. No more baths that had to be carted up one bucket at a time, no more bathing in a frigid stream or lake. If this was what these strange people equated with civilization, he was perfectly willing to admit that his world had nothing to compare.
His headache slowly receeded under the power of the spray, and Flikk thanked the stars that he hadn't gotten wasted, just mildly drunk. He could still remember the night before (the memory of Vikktor singing some song about sheep intruded in his thoughts), which meant he hadn't done anything completely stupid.
Still a bit muzzy-headed, Flikk turned off the shower and stepped out, wrapping a towel about his body and drying himself off as he left the bathroom and crossed to where he kept his clean clothes stacked.
"You know, you haven't tripped once so far," Tajakith mentioned.
Flikk blinked, looking down at the dragonet, then back to the bathroom. I haven't. He mused thoughtfully, as he carefully pulled on a shirt, flexing his wings so that they would slot through the holes made for them. Maybe I am getting better. Maybe all it took was thrashing Vikktor and then getting drunk.
Of course, when he went to pull on his pants, he stumbled against the wall and had to steady himself. Or maybe I'm just too hung over to fight myself. He added wryly.
Whichever it was, he reveled in his ability to actually move without tripping over himself, even if the state was temporary. He moved through the morning routine in a haze, putting together Tajakith's food, making a light meal for himself, and another, larger meal for Vikktor, for whenever the bear actually woke up.
With Tajakith settled and his own stomach pleasantly full, Flikk settled onto the couch with a glass of juice and a book, looking forward to a quiet morning.
Hours later, he heard the shower going in Vikktor's room. When Vikktor finally stumbled out of his room, still naked and toweling his hair dry, Flikk focused all the harder on his book, though he still felt the heat rising in his cheeks. Damnit. You'd think, years later, I'd be used to his habits by now.
"Mornin', sunshine," Vikktor grumbled as he walked past the couch and towards the small kitched. "Food?"
"On the counter," Flikk replied.
"Love you."
Flikk twitched at the words, then forced his attention back to his book.
"You two really, really confuse me sometimes," Tajakith murmured just loud enough for Flikk to hear him.
"That makes two of us," Flikk responded just as softly, to Tajakith's obvious puzzlement.
As soon as Vikktor finished the food Flikk had set out for him, he shambled back into the room and plucked the book from Flikk's fingers, examining the cover.
"A collection of short stories about dragons? Flikk, you surprise me," Vikktor said with a smile, as he sprawled over the couch and rested his head on Flikk's lap, holding the book awkwardly with one hand in an attempt to angle it so that both could read.
Flikk sighed, snatched the book back, and shifted about so that Vikktor's head was on his chest. Vikktor always wanted to read with him. It was frustrating at times, but also rather... cute. Who would think the big, uncultured brute liked literature?
Tajakith, at this point, was clearly beyond confused and into the realm of simple acceptance. "I'm going to be in my room. Y'know, in case anything weirder happens out here."
Vikktor waved a hand casually, "S'alright, kiddo. Me'n Blue-boy are going to sit and read for a bit."
Flikk tried his best to choke back the laugh that wanted to escape at Tajakith's expression, only succeeding up to the point that Tajakith entered his room and pushed his door closed behind him. As soon as the door closed, he dissolved into helpless, soft laughter.
"Flikk?"
"Just Tajakith's expression," Flikk managed to gasp out. "Utter confusion mixed with disturbance."
"I win again," Vikktor rumbled, pleased.
"I only hope you didn't freak him out," Flikk said, more seriously this time.
Vikktor shrugged, unconcerned, "The kid's tough, he'll live."
Flikk let it go. There was nothing he could say that would change Vikktor's habits; it was like fighting against a river in flood, it just didn't work.
The day the hammer fell, Flikk was in the shower, cleaning off from yet another adventure in teaching Tajakith how to fight, and re-teaching himself the basic art of movement in either of his forms. He finally felt that he was making progress in both regards and it was a pleasant feeling, like when he had first begun to learn the sword.
He heard a knock on the door, and Vikktor shouting out that he was coming, and put it out of his mind. Vikktor could deal with anything that showed up.
Except Vikktor knocked on the door to the bathroom moments later and announced, "Flikk, you might wanna get out here for this."
What in fury? Flikk wondered, even as he shut the water off and grabbed a towel to wrap about his waist. Vikktor's voice had been far too serious. Did one of us get in trouble with the authoraties? Is Tajakith okay?
Vikktor wasn't in the bedroom, nor was he in the living room. Frowning in concern, Flikk poked his head into the kitchen, finally spotting Vikktor's golden form, along with...
"Haart?" Flikk asked in confusion. The pale green whorling looked utterly exhausted, his skin grey around the edges and his wings drooping.
Haart turned to look at him, nodded once, then turned back to the small table he was sitting at and took another sip of whatever drink Vikktor had poured him. Likely some hard alcohol, judging by the whorling's cringe every time he took a sip.
Vikktor shoved a similar glass in Flikk's hands, muttering a glum, "Yer gunna need this," before he slumped at the table and took a drink from his own glass.
Flikk cautiously sniffed at the liquid in his glass, wrinkled his nose at the harsh scent of alcohol, and set it down on the table, untouched.
Haart took that as his cue to begin. "We've been able to deal with them, for the most part. Between us and the fighters that Akelara has, we pretty much equal Koshi Keidai one to one. But lately there's been... sightings. Strange creatures without wings, maybe twenty feel long from nose to tailtip, and skinny enough to count every bone in their body from a mile off. At first we thought, no problem, we can take them like we've taken the rest."
Flikk licked his lips, his gaze focused on Haart as the man took another sip of his drink. He didn't like where this was going.
"Thing is... thing is," Haart continued, "they're fast. Fast enough that Kinai can barely keep up. I've had to patch him together several times already. Their fangs are poisoned, and I think their claws may have some sort of venom as well, though I'm not sure about that."
"How bad?" Flikk forced out as he stared at Haart and prayed. Let brash, violent Kinai be the worst of those affected. Let the Clan not have suffered badly.
Haart winced and took a large gulp of the alcohol. "Bad. One got in once, killed a hatchling and its bond, carved its way towards the leaders. We can't keep up with the damn things, they just leave us in the dust and go for the helpless."
Flikk picked up the glass Vikktor had given him and took a gulp, nearly gagging at the harsh fire as it burned down his throat. Two children, at least, dead. Who knew how many others injured or killed in the process. He glanced at Vikktor, saw the same mix of sorrow and rage in his partner's eyes. Koshi Keidai had gone too far.
He set his glass back down on the table with a soft click and rose to his feet. "Then we'd better get back and deal with these things."
"But!" Haart stared up at him, confused. "You don't understand, Captain! They're just so fast! How are we supposed to deal with something we can't keep track of?"
"Leave it to Vikktor and me," Flikk said, trying to put as much confidence as possible in his voice. "There's more than one reason I'm called Blue Lightning. Vikktor, get Tajakith ready, I'll go pack our things. It's time we dealt with this little problem properly."