Alright, this had to be the stupidest thing he had ever done. Who really believed that there where still ancient lizards still roaming around in these thick jungles? Cag stopped moving, settling back on his haunches and looking around. He had chosen a local wildlife's form to slip through the different borders of the different countries of Africa to get to the Congo, as a jaguar would not be stopped and questioned. He snorted, remembering the one stupid group of hunters who had been obviously poaching. They had tried to hunt him down and shoot him, but instead of being bullied by them, he had run behind a large boulder and shape shifted in the form of a massive white rhinoceros and came charging out the other side. He slammed into their jeep, digging his horn deep underneath and jerking upwards, sending the vehicle sailing and landing on its side. He took off running, and once away changed back.
He shook his head, and surely if a jaguar could, he would be smiling. He looked around, trying to decide where to go from here. He had only just entered the jungle, perhaps twenty or thirty minutes ago on his own personal little safari to find these mythological dinosaurs. He stood and stretched, his claws extending and scratching the tree slightly before he finished and leap lithely to another out stretched branch as if he as simply stepping across the half inch gap. He climbed to the top of the tree and glanced around, looking for the mountains and nodded to himself. Setting them firmly in his mind, he dropped back down below the tree line and began heading in the direction of the mountains. If there where any of these magnificent creatures left, they would probably be that way, deeper into the jungle and probably hidden in the valleys of those mountains where man could not reach them.
He snorted. If he had been really intelligent, he would have invited somebody along on this silly expedition. Tamreta perhaps. Or the fun loving human female, Daniela. He was sure she would have enjoyed this. Or at least he should of told somebody where he was going. He shook his head, looking as if some bug had flown into his eyes. No, it was better this way. They would have made it down right almost impossible to get through customs. Also he would have to spend half his time protecting them. It didn't matter if they needed the protection, he would provide it anyways. This way was much faster indeed. He stopped moving and glanced over his shoulder. Was that footsteps? Or perhaps another animal he leap to another tree and slipped behind it. He choose a new form instantly, and crawled down the bark of the tree towards the ground silently on his now eight, hairy legs. This spider form was small, silent and deadly. It also blended into the bark of the tree almost perfectly. Only the most trained eye would see him here. He waited patiently, to see if somebody, or something, came by.
Post by Josef Mengele on Aug 12, 2011 22:22:36 GMT -5
Bala certainly smelled something amiss. He lifted his head from the comfortable bed of moss he'd made himself and flicked his fans forward, nostrils flaring and trying to catch scents. His large eyes were wide, scanning the area. Nothing but birds and the occasional forest pig. "Josef?" he inquired. His master hadn't come back for some time now. They were close to the beaches of a small island on a delta, called Shark Island. Some medical experiments on behalf of the local governments had taken place here a while back, and Mengele was scavenging equipment. If time allowed it, he would bring back books as well of what the experimenters had found.
Meanwhile, Bala was on his own. The dragon lifted himself up and began to investigate the smell, his wings tucked securely to his sides. He lifted his head a few times when griffin passed his nostrils. Just small forest griffins...tiny things, barely the size of a man's forearm, with the forefront of their bodies being hornbills or other exotic birds. Bala couldn't exactly hide himself from these critical eyes, he was shimmering white like a beautiful stone in the middle of the dense wilderness. He smelled...cat? He hadn't seen a whole lot of the native species. Even animals knew to stay away from crazy and Mengele was certainly that. He followed the trail of the jaguar, excited.
Cag waited patiently, he had nothing else to do. He had all the time in the world. All the...time....
Suddenly something big made it's way through the forest. Not extremely large, but bigger then human. And it was CERTAINLY not being stealthy in any way, shape or form. He could almost see it, making it's way straight towards his hiding place. His eight hairy legs, so wide that they could fall off the edges of a dinner plate, tensed slightly to prepare him for a leap forward onto this advancing creatures. Bared two inch fangs glinted wetly, venom forming drops upon the ends. Patience, patience....
Something large and white rounded the corner and Cag leap, landing upon what this thing's neck, whatever it was. His minuscule hooks on his feet found ample purchase between large, white scales. He stopped, pausing before he sank his fangs into the scales. He knew he could, easily. And the poison, though not enough to kill this big creature, could definitely make it sick enough to deter it from bothering him again.
No, instead he stopped because....something? He just couldn't tell exactly what it was. His legs flexed, sending him flying away from the creature and he changed in mid-air to his human form, somersaulting and landing in a semi-crouch. His gaze found the white creature, now unmistakably a dragon!! From this size it was plain as day. He stood slowly, eyeing the beast. It was small for a dragon. A baby, or young-ling, perhaps? He slowly stepped back towards the reptile and bowed.
"Pardon me, oh dragon. I did not recognize your foot falls and I thought I was being tailed. Please forgive me." He straightened, looking into the magnificent creature's eyes. "I hope I did not harm you on accident. Are you ok?" He sincerely hoped he didn't harm the white dragon. He had a soft spot for the creatures actually. More like a fascination to be honest. He smiled at the creature, showing he didn't mean any harm and that it was an accident. Or so he hoped.
Post by Josef Mengele on Aug 12, 2011 23:21:28 GMT -5
Bala was already nervous, but feeling something jump on his neck...something huge, hairy and ugly, made him shriek and scrabble at his neck. He backpedaled as fast as a dragon could go and inevitably tripped over his tail, which hadn't managed to back up as quickly as he had. He ended up sitting on the base of his tail, eyes watering. A spider! He shouldn't have run off from Mengele like that...he rubbed his neck and tried to look at it for bites, but his head was suited in juuust the wrong place to look for spider bites near his jugular. Though, it was unlikely the spider could have penetrated thick scales. Dragons were vulnerable on their throats, but not on the sides of their necks. He looked at the human before him.
"You...you were the spider." Bala grumbled in German, rubbing his neck again. He shuddered. Ugly, nasty spiders... he shivered and stood up slowly, his aching tail sliding out from between his legs. That had smarted. He reminded himself never to land on that part of him again. He listened for a moment to the American apologize and groaned inwardly. He really needed to learn english, but the thing quibbling about at him seemed to be apologizing. He shook his head. "I don't understand. Do you speach German at all? Deutsche?" he tried to get something across. He knew a tiny bit of the local language from Mengele dragging him around, but didn't feel confident enough to ask this creature if he knew it.
Cag listened to the dragon. His lips moved and sounds came out, but it was a language he was not familiar with. The words sounded familiar, sort of. But he just couldn't place them in his mind. He stood shaking his head until one word was spoken, then repeated again. It sounded so familiar to him. He frowned and shook his head in the universal gesture of no. He reached out a hand slowly towards the dragon, reaching for the his muzzle hesitantly. If the dragon allowed him, he would put his hand upon the muzzle and rub softly. But only if the creature allowed it.
After patting the creatures muzzle, he pulled his hand back and looked around. He frowned, and pointed at the dragon then around at the forest. He then bent and drew a small question mark in the dirt at the dragon's front paws, trying to ask him where he had come from. He stood back up and made a shooing motion with his hands before then pointing at himself then the dragon, and making walking signals with his hands.
Cag was getting so frustrated with this!! It was insane, what a simple language barrier could do and keep them from conversing easily. Cag hoped the dragon got the point that he wanted to know where the creature had come from and take him there. Perhaps there was somebody who could translate between them.
Post by Joseph Goebbels on Aug 12, 2011 23:55:48 GMT -5
Bala drew back from the hand reaching for his muzzle. "Excuse you!" he said, frowning. He found it quite rude that this man wanted to pet him like some sort of dog. Mengele had taught him that touching others without their consent was rude as hell. Coming from a man that didn't like to be touched even under the best of circumstances. He looked down at the ground, at the questionmark. He frowned and looked back at where he had come, debating on whether or not to tell him. He turned slightly and gestured back. "From there." he said. "I'm with my master." Bala rubbed his nose. "And touching someone without their permission is very rude, even for humans."
He stretched and put a forelimb on his chest scale. "Bala." he said. "It means child, kinder." he pointed to the other man and gestured vaguely. "What's your name?" he asked, settling back down on his haunches. Mengele would be back at any moment, he would be mad to find out that he hadn't been fishing and was exploring without his master's consent. He edged away. "Um, I need to get back. My master's going to be angry if he comes back..." he looked back at the trees nervously.
"Faith moves mountains, but intelligence moves them to the right place."
Not surprised at all by the dragon's wish to not be touched, Cag simply shrugged the objection aside and grinned as the dragon obviously gave his name. Cag lipped the name, then said it aloud, just to be sure he had it. "Bala...." He nodded as he satisfied himself with the correction pronunciation of the name. Although he didn't understand it, he knew the creature was telling him what the name meant as well. He pointed at his own chest and said his own name slowly, for it was slightly difficult when the dragon motioned for him to do the same..
"Ca'guuror. It means Night Creature." He nodded with satisfaction that they had actually been introduced and grinned. His four sharp canines glinted in the light. He watched as the dragon turned back towards the direction he had motioned towards and Cag nodded enthusiastically, motioning with his hand for the dragon to go ahead. He took several steps in that direction and looked back, seeing if the white dragon was going to lead him to where he had come from.
Post by Joseph Goebbels on Aug 13, 2011 0:26:58 GMT -5
Bala trundled through the forest, his wings clenched to his sides, his ear fans down. Once he saw a fire burning he knew he was in trouble. Deep, deep trouble. "Is there a reason I wasn't provided dinner?" Josef didn't look up from tending the fire, knelt, his arms covered in blood. Old blood, and not his own. He'd obviously encountered something on the island, not something good. Bala lowered his head and slunk closer. "Stop. Answer me Bala. Why didn't you fish like I asked?" Mengele was cold, and not looking at the dragon. He knew simple questions without eye contact would make the dragonling squirm. He was right.
Bala shifted from foot to foot and looked at Cag. "I..." "It's because you're lazy." Josef answered for him. "Do you know why you're lazy?" Bala looked at the ground. "It's because you haven't gotten it through your thick skull yet. I, as a member of the human race and your father, expect tasks from you. Small, simple little tasks. But your fat, reptilian head can't wrap around the fact that if you do not hunt for us both, then I will hunt and you will live off that gut." Mengele hissed. Even in German, which was a menacing language even if spoken in a friendly manner...it sounded horrible. Bala felt himself tearing up. God, he knew he'd be in trouble. Mengele rose and looked over at him, eyeing Cag. "Unless you've brought me a specimen. Then all can be forgiven." he said, a bit calmly.
Bala shook his head. "I can't...he's a friend." he said. Mengele's expression soured a bit more. "Then go off and sulk with your...friend." Mengele flicked his wrist and walked in the direction of the river. He would fish.
"Faith moves mountains, but intelligence moves them to the right place."
Seeing the fire, Cag smiled. That was, until he heard words spoken. Very harsh words. Cag's smile vanished like a slice of chocolate cake in front of an extremely obese kid. He couldn't really understand what was being said, but he certainly didn't like it, especially as it was making his new dragon friend uncomfortable. As the man stalked off towards the water, Cag leap forward and grasped him by the elbow firmly and spun him around.
"Excuse me, sir. First of, do you speak english?" Cag stared directly into the man's cold eyes. "Second, you should treat that dragon with more respect. It is a magnificent creature, and deserves it! I may not know what you said, but you hurt his feelings." Glaring with a bit of anger at the man, he released his arm and reached up to his face. His hand was no longer a human hand, but a taloned paw, covered with pitch black scales and he pressed them gently against the man's cheek and drug them down slowly. Not enough to even slice the man's flesh, but even if the man did not speak english, the threat was sure to be crystal clear.
He dropped his hand away, and the bones snapped and ground back into place and the flesh rippled back into normal human skin. "Now, if you would be so kind. What is your name. His name," Cag pointed at the dragon, "I know is Bala. But what is yours?"
Post by Joseph Goebbels on Aug 13, 2011 0:57:00 GMT -5
Bala squeaked when Caguuror grabbed Mengele's elbow. Oh god, that wasn't smart. That wasn't smart at all. Mengele stared at Caguuror with cold, unfeeling eyes. He showed absolutely no emotion, even when the claws came close to his face. He grabbed Caguuror's wrist with the swiftness of a hunting bird, examining the claws for a second and dropping them. "The little dragon is fat, lazy, and easily distracted." he said in thickly accented english. "Second of all...you've caught my interest." he looked down to Caguuror's hand. "Which...as the fat one will tell you...is dangerous." he turned and left them. When Bala was sure that Mengele was out of earshot, he bounded toward Caguuror and grabbed both of his arms, looking him in the eyes.
"Are you crazy?! He could have killed you! Or worse! Did you see what you did?!" he grabbed Caguuror's hand and shook it. "This was dangerous! He knows what you are!" he realized he wasn't speaking in a language that Caguuror could understand and sat back, sighing deeply. "Um...I can't eat tonight." he pointed at his mouth and shook his head. His stomach was rumbling too...if Mengele was good at anything, it was cooking. Cooking was an exact chemical process, and Mengele was good at chemical processes.
Bala rubbed his eyes and allowed himself to sniffle. He knew that if Mengele saw him crying it would be the end of the night. At least if the doctor had the time to decompress he wouldn't be angry when he came back. He settled down by the fire, sighing. "You really shouldn't have done that." he grumbled, playing in the soil. Wait a moment...he got up and went to Mengele's things. He hesitated above the bags. Would he be angry...? Well, he never used that book anyway. He opened the suitcase and gently pawed through it until he found what he was looking for. He set the english book down by the fire and shut the suitcase. He picked up the book and sat down before Caguuror, flipping through the pages.
"You...should not...done that." he said, looking to see if Caguuror understood. "He could..." he flipped pages. "...killed you. Death, yes?" he eyed him.
"Faith moves mountains, but intelligence moves them to the right place."
Smirking, Cag watched the man leave. Oh, in the shadows he had not been able to see who the man had been with his back turned. But now....now he knew exactly who the man was. Getting a good look at this face. Dr. Josef Mengele, the supposedly psychotic doctor who had worked with Hitler during World War 2 doing horrific experiments upon people, especially twins. He jerked around as Bala grabbed his wrist, shaking it. Apparently the dragon was upset about what he had done and was telling him off.
Although he didn't understand the language still, he knew the young drakling was speaking German. After all, was that not what Dr. Mengele was, German? Cag shook his head, watching as the dragon retrieved a book and used it to speak to him, haltingly and pretty broken up, but he was impressed by the dragon.
Cag sighed and spoke one word he happened to know in German. "Deutschland?" He spoke and pointed at the dragon, making it into a question. He nodded, already knowing the answer. His ears caught the faint rumble of hunger, and he glanced down at this own stomach. It wasn't from him and he looked up and eyed the dragon. He pointed the dragon's stomach and then made gesticulations of eating something. Then he pointed at Bala and raised his thumb up, then down. His meaning was clear. Did food seem good or not to the dragon?
He knelt in the soft dirt and drew a simple sketch of a fish, then pointed at it, then pretended to eat again and pointed at Bala. Did Bala want some fish?
Post by Josef Mengele on Aug 13, 2011 12:33:03 GMT -5
Bala nodded emphatically when the man said the name of his country. He watched him gesticulate about food and shook his head, flipping through the book again. "Cannot. Punishment." he said in explaination, his mouth fiddling with the unfamiliar words. It would be worse for him if he ate behind Mengele's back than if he just dealt with his gnawing hunger until breakfast. "He... will get food for you." he told the shapeshifter, pointing to the river. Mengele was polite. He'd been taught to be polite by his mother, and it was a habit that had stuck with him. He wasn't afraid of being viciously cutting to his dragon, it just made the creature more eager to please him. Which, of course, was impossible. Mengele had feelings like contentment instead of happiness.
Bala set the book down and waited for Mengele to return. He decided against telling Caguuror that he could have turned the shapeshifter over to be drugged and cut into in return for Mengele's forgiveness. It was a deal that Bala had eagerly accepted only once, before he figured out what exactly a specimen was. Mengele was a genius in his own right...his findings on the limits of the human body had been found and published after the war, much to his chagrin, and doctors pussyfooted around using the data because of their morals. Mengele was a doctor without morals...the best kind.
The doctor returned from fishing, three arapaima all gutted and cleaned, with the heads neatly sliced off. Obviously he hadn't wanted Bala edging toward the scraps. The dragon sighed as his master speared the fish through three iron rods and plunged them into the ground beside the fire. The rods must have been scavenged from the island...Bala was suddenly curious. His master had washed off all the blood, but the coat that was currently rolled up to his elbows was still bathed in it. "....Josef?" Bala asked softly. "You're not eating." "No, it's not that." Bala said quietly. "What happened on the island?" "I picked up new information. Apparently they were doing intelligence studies on the negroids in the area. Measuring their brains against those of caucasians and mongoloids." Mengele said. "I have three new specimens in my bag. Three brains that are quite inconclusive, though their particular creases and folds makes them fascinating to look at. Don't you dare break the jars." The doctor looked at Caguuror and spoke in english. "Are you hungry?" he asked.
Cag watched the exchange between the two with interest, his head swaying from side to side as the two bantered back and forth in German. He still could not understand a word of it, though did catch the number three spoken in the language. That was all, however, he managed to catch of the conversation. Not a lot to go on. Three what? The three of them? Three creatures? He was deadly curious, but it didn't matter. His stubborn streak left him wondering, with out asking.
When Josef Mengele turned toward him and asked if he was hungry, Cag stared at the man for several seconds. Had he really just asked him, right in front of his dragon whom he was apparently refusing food to? Cag bit back a nasty retort. This was not his fight, or his dragon. Yes, they might be friends, but he did not know the ways of working between these two and thus had better not get involved anymore. Especially as he had apparently already gotten the little dragon into trouble already. He parted his lips, his odd pupilless solid gold eyes hard and lacking their usual shimmer of life as he spoke.
"No, I do not eat in front of others. My table manners," he paused, hunting for the correct wording, "leave much to be desired. So I simply refrain from eating and turning the stomach of those around me until I am alone. Thank you though." He nodded towards Mengele, still not sure what to make of him. He didn't like him, that was certain. He did not like the way he treated Bala, and he certainly did not like what he remembered about the man from old textbooks and his past military experience. Cag tried to keep an open mind, as was his way. Just with some people, it was extremely hard, and this was one of those cases. He spoke again, making small banter.
"So, you two have apparently been in this area a while now. Have you heard of any rumors lately? Large creatures, wandering around perhaps? Missing people or mangled corpses? I am hunting for something, you see. It is probably a wild goose chase, but I wanted to come see if the insane rumors where true or not.. I just couldn't help myself." He grinned. Cag's curiosity had gotten the better of him on multiple occasions, often leading him into trouble. Some times it had lead him into even down right dangerous situations. That was fine by him though, he like the thrill and danger. It kept him alive and fresh, his reflexes sharp, and his mind churning. He may not be the smartest being ever, but he was extremely intuitive and resourceful, able to see many things other did not.
Post by Josef Mengele on Aug 13, 2011 21:11:07 GMT -5
"Table manners do not bother me. A man who can perform vivisection can watch another drool over food without becoming ill." Mengele said, serving one of the fish on a tin plate to Caguuror. He listened when the man asked about mutilated bodies. "Yes, in fact. I came across some very fresh corpses on my own expeditions to Shark Island. I was not looking for monsters, however, but these." Mengele set his own fish aside and went to his bag, pulling out a large mason jar. While it had a threatening crack in one side of it, it still contained a large human brain, submerged in formaldehyde to keep it preserved. He set it down away from the fire. "I recovered three, but I found several injured and dying on the island that seemed to come from large animal wounds. Consequently older bones from earlier victims were strewn about in the manner of a predator."
Bala's neck was craned toward the doctor, aching to understand what his master was saying. But alas, he was saying it in english. Probably as a further punishment to Bala...Josef normally loved his german superiority over americans, and lorded it over them accordingly. Josef sat down and began eating his fish delicately with his long, slender fingers. He looked at Caguuror to do the same. "Ignore Bala. He knows what he did. Is it not customary for disobedient children to be without supper in your country?" he pointed out, sliding a piece of the white flesh into his mouth.
Cag slowly picked at the fish, placing small morsels of the white meat into his mouth. It was so hard not to shape shift and rip into the fish, flinging bits of bone and flesh and scale everywhere. Even if it was not red meat, it was still tempting. He ignored the impulse, and sat listening. What the doctor said was very interesting. What manner of dinosaur could possible hope to swim out to those islands and slaughter people whole sale like that. Then to simply swim back and disappear again, all with out being seen once? Very interesting. When words of children where spoken, a blood curdling snarling hiss slipped from his lips which pulled back over four sharpened canines, red flaring through the once golden eyes before Cag managed to control his raging anger. The noise stopped, and his eyes and teeth returned to normal and he groaned. This man did not know of his past, and hence did not mention that touchy subject on purpose.
"Sorry, Dr. Mengele. Children are," he stammered over the softly whispered words, "a touchy subject with myself. I wouldn't know if that is common practice, to be honest." He gathered himself, shrugging off the incident and move the topic back to safe ground.
"Well, as a doctor, what is your expert opinion on these attacks? Have you seen anything like them before? Or are we simply dealing with a raving lunatic, cavorting about these forests with an extremely dangerous toy?"
