//------------------------------// // Revised Beginning + Pink Smoke // Story: Lovie Dovie // by The Psychopath //------------------------------// Oliver Howard Scatch went to his fridge and took out a large bottle of water to drink from and walked to his tiny living room decked out in sport jerseys, balls, and player posters. He dropped on his couch and, with one swift movement, crossed his legs upon his glass coffee table. He didn't need to clean, after all. He hired a maid to do that every week. Why would he clean? He was a man. Men don't clean. Although...Oliver looked over his shoulder a moment and pondered the idea. He had just returned from a good day of working out and fixing his old truck, but he felt something gnawing at the back of his mind. Just by walking back home from the local gym brought his attention to several things. Looking at the many sport paraphernalia adorning his walls, the colors reminded him of a garden filled with flowers that he had just passed... "No!" he scolded himself. He smacked the sides of his head. "Can't think of stuff like that, but I do feel like I need to clean...although I'm not supposed to. That's not what men are supposed to do," he pondered with a worried expression on his face. He shrugged and sunk into his couch. "I'll sleep this off. I could ask the maid about what she thinks? I don't know. Too tired. Can't think straight." Fully content with his current situation and wanting to free his thoughts, the man put his arms behind his head and took in some long, slow breaths of the cool air in his house and slowly drifted off to sleep. His nap didn't last very long as he found himself jolting upright, beads of cold sweat irritating his entire body. He held up his head in one hand and tried to relax. "What the hell was that? A nightmare...but I can't seem to remember it." He frowned and looked into the void with a disappointed expression. "I hate it when that happens. No reason to forget a dream and wake up terrified." He took a drink of water and walked to his sliding glass doors to reach his backyard. "Maybe some fresh air would help dry this rain storm's rage." Stepping outside, the man kept a smile on his face as he took in a deep breath and felt the blades of grass tickling his bare feet and the space between his toes. It was an enjoyable sensation, and the heat of the sun allowed his body to recover and dry itself off. "Haaaaaaa...Much bett--" He cut himself off the minute he saw something in the grass. Looking down, Oliver noticed a color, vibrantly pink drawing of chalk in his lawn. It looked like a tiny dragon wrapping itself around a heart, and it had been drawn to be super round and 'cute', something he couldn't stand. "WHO DID THIS?!" he yelled. "COME ON. SHOW YOURSELF!" he challenged "Scatch, what's going on?" one of his neighbor's asked from behind the wooden palisade. "Someone got into my yard and drew this...horrible thing here." "What? Lemme see." "No, it's alright. You DON'T need to look." "Pish posh." "Shit! I need to get this thing off of my lawn before he pops up and uses his outdated vocabulary again." The man stomped on the blades several times, hoping the chalk would brush off, but it didn't. He stared at it, angry and confused, then noticed a blade was attached to his foot, and then more crept along his foot and started growing longer. Howard started panicking and thrusting his leg everywhere, but the grass wouldn't relent. By the time Oliver's neighbor managed to hoist themselves slightly above the palisade line, they saw Oliver screaming for help and with only an arm and a head above the ground. Scatch wasn't the only one screaming at that moment. A bubble of grass surrounded Oliver, and struggle as he might, he couldn't get free of the grass holding him. They swayed and glowed like the grass of a wide plain being brushed by the wind, and it soothed him hypnotically, but he did his best to try and get free. Despite his burly physique, he couldn't free himself. "Wh...I feel like I'm being broken into pieces!" he mumbled through the muffling. "What's going on! What the hell is all of this?! Let me go! This is NOT masculine in the slightest!" The grass seemingly worked over time at what the man said, and he could feel himself being disassembled like some kind of vehicle or toy. Any struggling he did was pointless as he couldn't get free from the clutches of the grass. "The hell is with this grass? Is it grown on steroids or something?! Is it digesting me?! I can't die. Not this soon. I'm not ready yet!" Sounds of the ocean started to fill his ears and gradually became louder and louder the more active the grass become, and then there was sunlight. He was thrown out of the trap he had been placed in and was blinded by the white light of the sun. He grunted and covered his eyes. When they finally adjusted, he was met face-to-face with a giant green reptile that had its arms outstretched and its open palms pointing to something behind him. Its face was crocodilian but rather thin. Its upper lip was wavy in shape, making it seem like it had teeth exposed. As for its body, it was unusually and uncomfortably thin; almost serpent-like. It leaned forward and looked at Oliver with an almost disinterested expression. "This one's through," she said. "And with an interesting look to boot. Never seen anything like it." She stood up straight and scratched the back of her head. "Now can I get back to the garden?" she asked. Another female voice answered with an exasperated tone. "Yes. Fine. Go. You've only been here for five minutes. You should really stop your whining." The creature shrugged and turned her back to Oliver. That's when he saw them: A pair of wings. "What the hell. Dragons?!" he thought to himself. "I mean, sure. They aren't standing on all fours wit their wings standing out, but they definitely fit the definition." "So you're our new recruit?" the same voice asked. A giant white hand stretched out from Oliver's peripheral vision."Y-yeah. I could use some help. I'm going crazy and hallucinating, it seems. I must've fallen and hit my head on my table or something. I can't seem to...." When he extended his hand to grab the red one, he saw a small pink hand fitted with hot-pink claws and a heart shaped pad on her palm. "WH-WHAT?!" he screamed. Then he noticed and grabbed his throat. "M-my throat. My vocal cords were damaged! I sound e...e...efffffffeminate!" "Right..." the voice was still exasperated and now seemed to have lost all energy associated to it. "What the hell is this?!" Oliver screamed. "My voice is high pitched, almost like--" "It's female?" Oliver remained silent for a moment then clenched his fists as anger boiled within him. He started shaking more and more as his muscles tensed, then he felt something rising in his throat. It was hot and like a liquid. He thought he was going to vomit, so he relaxed enough to turn around and point his face downwards. Pink fire exploded out from his mouth like a rocket, throwing him backwards a few inches and onto his butt, at which point he yiped in pain and flipped onto his belly. "Careful there, tiny. You'll break your tail," the voice joked. Scatch saw that he indeed had a tail, and it ended in a heart shaped 'spear' of a mexican pink color. What's worse is that he noticed that he was a bright shade of pink himself. Lighter than his tail and claws, but pink nonetheless. He slowly flipped onto his back while avoiding crunching his tail and looked at himself as best as he could. His chest's scales took the shape of a heart of pale pink that reached to his shoulders and sternum. His legs had inverted knees, and his three toes were actually dextrous, sharp claws, much like his fingers. The 'ex-man' raised his trembling hands and gulped audibly. He slowly moved his fingers to see that they were delicate, thin things. At least, they were thin by his standards. "You okay there?" the dragoness asked. "Wh-what did you do to me?!" Oliver stuttered quietly. "What the hell are you?!" he bellowed. His anger made way for fear when he saw who, or rather what, he was yelling at. It was a massive white dragon easily four or five times his size, and he didn't just mean by her girth. She was a rather large with a bulky frame and a stomach covered with a patch of cream-colored scales. Her hands were much larger than they should have been, if proportions were to be respected, as they were twice the size of a normal hand of someone her size. Unlike the skinny green dragon who had almost human-like eyes, this one's eyes were quite reptilian. Three horns protruded from her head: Two of them went toward the sides then stretched back a little bit, but the largest, in the middle, crept along the dragoness' face and muzzle, stopping just a bit past the end of said muzzle. "So you're the new one, eh?" She stood upright and put a hand to her hip. "You're a wee tiny thing, I'd say, and your body is so strange. Never seen anything like it." She pondered Oliver's new appearance. "I love it! It's adorable and beautiful at the same time!" The ex-man's eyes twitched. He tried to stand up but fall against the mossy wall he came out of. "Don't you DARE call me those things! EVER!" The dragoness threw her hands up in surrender. "Woah! No need to get angry again. You'll end up breathing fire. You can't control that gland yet." "I'm not a dragon! I can't be!" "Oh, yes you are, tiny. You're even a dragoness," the giant explained. Oliver grabbed his head and held in a scream as all the contradicting thoughts and events wracked his brain, but he calmed himself again. "A man doesn't display his emotions so abundantly like that," he thought to himself. "But that THING just said I'm a woman! I gotta get to the bottom of this." He, or rather 'she', turned to face the giant dragon and, with a commanding tone and face, gave her an order. "Turn me back to normal." The giant grinned. "Hooo. You've got many repressed emotions if you're dealing with it this long without changing to a more open behavior, especially in your state." "What are you talking about?" The giant pointed to behind Oliver. What the new-dragoness witnessed were her pink flames actually burning like hearts along the wall and ground, yet they didn't produce any smoke. Worse still, there were two heart marks in the mud Oliver had just walked through, indicating that he now had pads or a single scale on both his feet that created this shape every time he walked somewhere. He looked to his feet then dropped on his butt and started pulling at them. The giant dragoness crouched, grabbed him, and held the man up to her face. "H-hey! What are you doing?!" she asked with a startled tone. "Are you trying to kill yourself?" "Well," Oliver started. "I was thinking of just gnawing off my feet, but your proposal sounds much more lucrative." The giant blinked slowly. "Alrighty then. Looks like we need to hold you in particular." "What?" "Uhhh..." She punched her head gently to remember what she meant to say. "I meant we need to hold you particularly close in our regards. We're going to keep an eye on you." "Let me go! I don't like being man-handled like this, and I hate this new voice." Oliver struggled to break free of the grasp but failed. " 'Man-handled'?" The giant repeated. "And I find your voice is soothing and quite beautiful. It has a silky tone to it." Oliver's rage started bubbling up again and causing flames to flicker and fan at the edges of his mouth. "Why don't we start with introductions? I am Zoonzu, a caretaker of our gardens and one of the top dragons tasked with helping new members adjust to their new positions here." "So you just kidnap people?" "Not really." She scratched her head. "I'm not sure what the Head Pueric Dragoness would think of you, though. You're not very open with your emotions." "Well, duh. I'm a man?" "A what?" "A MALE!" Zoonzu scoffed. "Not anymore." Oliver audibly growled. "How about I show around this place while we go to the Pueric Dragoness who will determine your purpose here? Okay great!" "What?! But I didn't say anything!" Zoonzu didn't listen and forced Oliver to suffer several Gs worth of pressure on her way back up. The tiny dragoness got to see that, wherever she was, it was surprisingly intricate and well cared for. The small stone wall covered in moss and leaves was just a tiny portion of this maze-like garden. There was nothing but greenery everywhere: Vines having grown to massive heights, trees of various sizes, and green walls that rose above Zoonzu's head. Several flowers had bloomed along the walls and were letting their clorfuls petals flutter down into the wind. Some of the smaller dragons were swooping around with bags in had to catch the petals, but for what purpose Oliver could not deduce. Looking below, he could see several different dragons either working on plants or going through-- "Sheets of paper? What are they doing, macaroni paintings?" "HA HA!" Zoonzu bellowed. Her laughter, be it fake or real, nearly deafened the tiny dragoness she was holding. "No. They're reviewing documents and reports we received about the dragon tribes nearby. I heard there's some trying to start a war." "A war you say?" Oliver looked to the side, intrigue shimmering in his eyes. "This one doesn't seem too bright. She presented herself but ignored me. As soon as I can get free of this raging reptilian I'm getting the hell out of here and calling for help. I must be stoned as hell or something." He looked around to see that there were dragons either near or at the height of Zoonzu as well, and this actually scared him, but listening to the voices, Howard found something odd. "I only hear women?" "What?" the giant said. Scatch groaned in annoyance and facepalmed. "Females. Aren't there males here?" "Oh, our species of dragon doesn't have males," she replied cheerfully. "What?! Why?!" "Uuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...Hey look, the Pueric Dragoness' tower!" "DON'T JUST DODGE THE--woah." As much as the garden maze stretched as far as Oliver could see, it paled in comparison to the absolutely titanic tower sitting near its edge. "Hey, that thing looks like it's made of bone." Oliver chuckled nervously. Zoonzu only replied by a brief hum of acknowledgement, making Oliver looked at the immense construct a second time, but less in awe and more in shock. That tower had an absolutely massive base from which even Zoonzu was dwarfed by. It stood on multiple 'legs' branching out like tree roots into the ground, and the new dragoness could see movement in them. It looked like young children were having fun underneath the tower. Two doors led inside the construct, and as the trip to this place came to a close, the doors became nigh fource the size of Zoonzu. They were even built uniquely: Their frames holding them to the borders of the entrance and the opposing section of door were solid brown and polished, almost like wood. However, their interior was hollow, save for long, bending beams of the same wooden material starting from a higher point in the inner area of the doors to a lower point n the section touching the walls. Looking closely at them, Oliver realized they looked like wings, and huffed at the design. He couldn't enjoy anything, especially not under these circumstances, and try as he might, he couldn't get free of the gargantuan ogre holding him in her grip. The doors opened with a loud screech, and a shorter-but-still-huge dragoness ran up to the doors to clean the hinges and oil them afterwards. The inside of this place was terrifying. The walls were covered with paintings not in frames, but literally on the walls themselves. There were multiple scribbles Oliver couldn't read under the art, and, quite honestly, he didn't care. Some sets of melted armor the size of Zunzoo, and weapons big enough for him to carry were placed here-and-there in the construct. "Is this a museum?" "It's like one to have them." "...What?" "Uhhhh...Sorry. I have trouble talking. I mean that this place is like one because it has all of these things. They're from the history our group has had in the past." "...That was a redundant sentence," Oliver grumbled. Spiraling pathways wide enough for a four-lane highway climbed ever higher in the immense tower, and the many non-unilateral holes in the walls serving as windows allowed Oliver to see past the garden and towards the distance. Unfortunately, the angle and the sun burning his retinas didn't let him see if there was anything out there. Zunzoo stopped in front of solid gates of black iron just as tremendous at the entrance gates and, after backing up a bit, shoulder bashed into them, pushing them open. "Ow," she whined. A waft of decaying flesh attacked Oliver's nostrils like a weapon of mass destruction, and he almost vomited. "UGH! What the hell is that smell?!" "It's Pueric Mother's experiments and potions," Zunzoo explained innocently. "Mother? I thought it was Dragoness or something like that." "Mhmm." "..." The room was just as imposing as the entrance, but unlike it, the entire room was clear. There weren't any sections of wall made to hold the weight of those climbing the pathways blacking sections of the area. The entire room was a round cone whose height was unfathomable Oliver, and all along the walls were shoddy wooden shelves of various sizes that looked they were going to collapse at any moment. There were vials of glass of varying shapes and sizes occupying the fragile spaces and giving off various different colors. Some were just boxes and barrels as well, and not all of them contained colorful liquids. Others contained herbs, flesh, fur, body bits, plants, mushrooms, and so much more. It changed from the usual that Oliver had seen on his tv back home, but it was still dwarfed in eye-attraction to the immense gray mass in the middle of the room. It was hard to make out because of the holes in the walls being covered by sheets of gray leather filtering the light. "We've got a new member, Pueric Mother!" Zunzoo shouted into the room. "She's...quite unique in both appearance and personality. I think she has repressed emotions." Scatch would have slapped her there had he the proper size and freedom. "Don't just yell that out there!" He pressed himself against her hand as best as he could and looked around for anyone listening and watching. "It's not masculine. It'll shame me!" he whispered. "See?" "Who are you even talking to?!" he shouted. "The walls? The weird, giant egg in the center of the room?" "A giant egg?!" a tremendous voice boomed. It was so strong and reverberated so thoroughly in the room that even Zunzoo flinched in pain. "I've heard of associating young years to dragonesses to flatter them, but that's going a bit too far back!" The 'egg' moved and rumbled, dust clearing coming off of it. Two tremendous wings spread outwards for a stretch, nearly touching the walls, and a long tail ending in a heart shaped scale stretched out of a nest hidden by piles of empty wooden crates, barrels, and wagons. Oliver saw the figure rising higher and higher until even Zunzoo looked like an infant in comparison to it. "Oh shit..."