[Open] An Iceberg Made of Spite

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[Open] An Iceberg Made of Spite

CHARACTERS: Prince Arctic ~~of the IceWings~~ and... YOU?
LOCATION: The teleporter room, the sunlight room, and other random hallways/locations around the station.
DATE: The week or so after the crew's return following the last mission
CONTENT: General open prompts for bothering the dragon post-mission
WARNINGS: Minor descriptions of claustrophobia in one prompt. Also, Arctic's backstory deals with it's own share of sensitive subjects, so, please check this post before engaging!

1. Station Return

Well, that certainly was a lot of dragon related violence, wasn't it? Violence perpetrated by dragons, that is.

Not that Arctic is bothered, or judging the residents of Dracness. No, not at all... It was a fully warranted reaction, he'll say that much. That said, in the moments after everyone is returned to the teleporter pad aboard the Ximilia, Arctic seems immediately distant... Lost in thought.

Despite his size, it's easy to overlook him at first. For one thing, he hasn't exactly gone out of his way to put himself on friendly terms with the crew, so there's little reason for people to care. For another, dragon facial expressions can be a bit difficult for humans to parse, unless you know what to look for, so it's not immediately obvious that there's anything off about him. But, if you linger in the teleporter area long enough after most of the others have cleared out, you'll notice that he's still there... Staring at his upturned front talons, flexing his claws, his wings and tail drawn in close.

You could try asking what's troubling him. But also, after everything that just happened? No one could blame you for not wanting to take the risk.

2. Freeze Warning (cw: mild descriptions of claustrophobia)

Arctic hasn't had a lot of time on the station yet, with the previous mission taking as long as it did. He's realizing now what a blessing that actually was: being out in the open air, with all the sky to stretch his wings in... Even if he found flight a bit more difficult in his unnatural bipedal form, it had still been exhilarating and refreshing to be able to soar like that.

Now that they're back on the Ximilia, he feels a sort of horror setting in. These artificial walls and corridors, too narrow for a creature his size, even shrunk down as he is... Does he really have to spend the break between missions trapped in this miserable place?!

He generally doesn't want to be out in public areas, because that means risking conversation with all the humans. But also, the sunlight room is the only means he has of not feeling COMPLETELY contained in a space where it feels like the walls are closing in on him. So, at any given time, if you're going to run into him... It'll be there.

It's just too bad it's not snowier in there, you know? But that's nothing a little frost breath can't fix. Mind your step, because some of the pathways may now be slippery with patches of unnatural ice. Or the river may feel unnaturally cold when you go to dip your feet into it, as if someone has plunked a huge ice cube into the water further up stream.

(The ice cube is Arctic. He's just sitting in there, wishing he had access to an icy ocean, instead of this pitiful little creek.)

3. Pirate Con Crud

He knew it. He KNEW he'd get some kind of disease from these mammals. It was only a matter of time!

Arctic has never felt so physically miserable in his life. Huge, dragon-sized coughs with errant bits of frost breath keep wracking his body. His scales look completely dull and dry, devoid of their usual shiny sheen. AND... He completely refuses to go to the med bay.

What could a bunch of humans possibly do for him anyway? He just needs to sleep this off. If that involves passing out in a fever-hazed heap in the middle of some random hallway, well... His "crew mates" can just deal with it.

Also, if he ever finds out who's responsible for passing him this plague, he swears he's going to bite their damn head off.

[OOC: Brackets or prose is fine, I'll match whichever you prefer. PM or hit me up on

awkwardpossum if you have any questions or want to plot something specific!]

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[Yujin definitely recalls all the snow in the sunlight room from the month that he arrived, but... it's odd. Everything else here, minus the strange patches of ice, still looks and feels like the autumn. He even debates on asking Viveca if something's wrong with the weather. The answer, however, becomes clear once he steps outside:

There's a big scaley tail blocking the hallway.]

Er... Hello?

[Yujin blinks back his surprise. He's seen Arctic around the station before, of course, but when they don't exist in his own world, one never really gets used to seeing a dragon just... wandering about. Just as Yujin cranes his neck to look for wherever the creature's head is, though, the floor rumbles slightly with the force of poor Arctic's great, and slightly chilly, cough.

Are you all right?

[Arctic is more or less half asleep where he is, or maybe it'd be more accurate to say he's in some kind of fugue state? (What even counts as a fever for an ice dragon? Don't worry about it too much.)

He stirs at the sound of Yujin's voice though, the mountain of dull white scales seething. While he's vaguely aware that he is just sleeping in the middle of the floor, which is not a very dignified position for a Prince to be in... He also can't bring himself to care enough to muster the energy to relocate. His head is pounding and his eyes look sort of glassy as he peers back over his shoulder at the unfamiliar human.]

I'm fine. [The translator even manages to maintain the highly congested sound of his words. Amazing! With great effort, Arctic drags his tail in closer and hikes his wings up, shrounding himself with them, as he continues to grumble acerbically:] Just move along and mind your own business...

[COUGH HACK COUGH COUGH]

Actually, this is my business.

[says Yujin crisply, rounding the corner to stand beside-- but not directly before-- Arctic's face. Don't freeze him with your dragon sneezes please.]

I'm afraid we haven't met formally. Yujin Mikotoba-- one of the doctors volunteering in the infirmary.

[He folds his arms, giving Arctic's enormous huddled form another once over. You don't need to specialize in reptiles to know this one:]

It's my professional opinion that you aren't fine.

[Yeah good call, bud. His frost breath isn't anywhere near as potent as normal right now, thanks to the fever... but it'd still probably be pretty unpleasant to get hit by.

Arctic manages to glare back at him with tired, navy-rimmed bloodshot eyes.]

Even if I'm not. What good is a human doctor going to do for me? Do you know anything about IceWing physiology? I sincerely doubt it.

I could learn.

[Which he says with complete helpful earnestness, too. Looking thoughtful, Yujin shuts down lower to make it a bit easier for himself to be seen.]

Besides. I don't need to know anything about IceWings to know you need some rest. [He'd say "and something warm to drink", but is that gonna...hurt a big ice dragon? Let's save that one for a bit.] I also happen to know a dreadful cold from Hhial has been going around.

[Grumbling with his eyes shut like he's about to go back to sleep, Arctic gestures exasperatedly with one wing.]

That is exactly what I was doing, before YOU woke me up!

[Resting! In the middle of the hallway!]

If you really want to help me, you should tell me who brought this accursed sickness back with them... So I can personally bite them, and then turn them into a block of ice.

[You know. as soon as he's better, and his frostbreath is fixed.]

Surely there's somewhere more comfortable than the hallway?

[DODGING THE GESTICULATING WING...

Briefly, Yujin considers ratting Newt out for all the trouble it's brought upon the orbers, but he thinks better of it. Arctic might be serious about the threat. You're welcome, Dr. Geiszler.]

Is that what the... little flurries are supposed to be? [he gestures vaguely at Arctic's mouth.] You really aren't well, if so. Let me help you back to your quarters.

[There is no way they can fit him in the infirmary. Sorry.]

[Truthfully, Arctic would never actually dare, because he simply has too much to lose by getting kicked off of this crew. Getting sent home would literally be a death sentence.

Like hell is he going to let anyone here know that, though.

Like hell is he going to show such weakness by letting some human 'help him' back to his quarters, too. He scoffs, baring his teeth, and starts to struggle back up to his feet.]

I am perfectly capable... [COUGH COUGH WHEEZE!] ...Of getting back there myself!

[Says the guy trembling from the effort of just standing up.]

I'm certain that you are. [says Yujin, mildly.

He is not in fact certain that he is, actually. But if Arctic can be difficult, so can he, even if he looks.... mighty wobbly, there.

He folds his arms over his chest, waiting until Arctic isn't mid-coughing fit, then asks:]

Which room is it, again? It must be one of the larger ones, to accommodate you.

End of the hall. [He coughs a few more times, wings spasming with the force of it. Then he starts dragging himself in that direction.] It's the only one... That's actually a livable temperature...

[AKA it's the one that always has hints of ice creeping through the cracks of the door. And boy, he HOPES the layer of ice he put on everything doesn't need to be refreshed... He feels like he's burning up right now. He's not sure he could summon up enough frost if he tried.]

A livable... [Oh, yup. There's the ice. Yujin cranes his neck to get a better look at the ice that peeks under the doorframe, then turns his attention back to Arctic.

He's not going to touch him. Yet. But he is going to follow beside him and innocuously make conversation, ready to steady the dragon if he starts to look more unsteady than usual. (Sure, he hasn't got the strength to lift a creature of this size, but he'll cross that bridge when he comes to it.)]

Did Miss Viveca and Commander Degar create such a climate for you, or did you do it all yourself? If it's the latter, that's impressive.

I did. With my... Frost breath...

[As they approach, the door slides open... Revealing that every surface within has been coated in a thick sheen of ice. Arctic breaks off coughing again as he enters, dragging himself across the threshold and slumping down onto the blessedly cool floor with his wings flopped out at his sides. Frost breath is more resistant to melting than regular ice would be, so at least he's got that going for him...]

[He's prepared to continue the idle chatter, but Arctic makes it to his room after all, flopping down and looking very much like an oversized version of the kind of lizard Yujin might find in his garden at home. It's a little endearing, in spite of Arctic's.... everything.]

Feel better soon.

[He slips out without another word.]

[The dragon looks like he's brooding over something. A dragon in a bad mood isn't something anyone wants on this space station, so a distraction seems like the best option here.]

I'm heading to the kitchen. Do you want anything?

[Not expecting to be addressed, Arctic straightens up and glances at the questioning human with piercing blue eyes, frowning uncomfortably. It's... An unexpectedly kind offer? Part of him wants to take offense to it just on principle though.]

I doubt you could carry back the quantity of food that I require, human.

[Has Viveca even started stocking seal or polar bear meat yet?]

I'm pretty strong. [Yuri says, with a grin, flexing an arm at him.]

But you're probably right. I was thinking that you could sit in the dining hall, and I'd bring meat out for you. Would that work?

[Arctic arches a scaly brow, obviously dubious of that claim, but doesn't challenge her on it. More than anything, he's suspicious as to why anyone would go out of their way to be so friendly towards him. That's something he's not at all accustomed to being on the receiving end of. IceWings don't really do friendly, or at least, the nobility doesn't; and the hatred between him and his NightWing captors was immediate and 100% mutual. He always kept them at an arm's length, determined not to let any of them get close enough to use him, ever again.

This human, though... What's her angle? You'd think, if she had any brains, she would take what she just saw as a warning, and give him a wider berth. Instead she's doing the exact opposite! Why? Is she trying to stay on his good side or something? Hoping that he'll favor her?

Honestly, he's not even really that hungry. His stomach feels like a yawning pit of uncertainty and uneasiness. Buuuuut...]

...Hmph. If you want to go to all that effort, I suppose I have no reason to stop you.

[So saying, he gets up and starts to stalk in the direction of the dining hall. Passing through the station's corridors will only serve to ratchet up his discomfort as they go, though, until he's full on scowling by the time they reach their destination.]

Do you eat cooked food, or do you prefer it raw? [She'll just go for a casual conversation, apparently ignoring any tension in the air.]

IceWings have no use for fire.

[Which is a jackass roundabout way of saying 'raw, please'.]

Do IceWings have use for spices, or do you like the flavor of the meat on its own? [Is that tone teasing? Maybe a little bit.]

[Arctic shoots her a look, picking up on the tone but not wanting to dignify it with a proper reaction beyond that.]

....Sea salt is fine.

[Ice Kingdom doesn't really have access to any other kinds of spices. And if you can't get it in the Ice Kingdom, it's probably not worth having. That's the general rule.]

All right. You stay here [since they've reached the mess hall] and I'll bring something out for you.

[And she'll go into the kitchen. She's going to warm up some frozen rice and quickly start some meat cooking for herself, and then go looking for meat options for the dragon.

In a few minutes she comes out with a tray of fish for the dragon. Just a big pile of whole sardines and smelt and other smallish sea fish.]

I wasn't sure if you liked fish, but I'll bring out some other meat in a minute. [She's going to go right back into the kitchen. Eat your fish they're good for you!!

And then in about five minutes she's coming out with a giant tray of meat, it takes both hands to carry it. There's some stuff still on the bone, some sliced thin, some cut in big chunks.]

Here you go.

[Arctic sits himself at the table and waits, not entirely sure why he's even playing along with this. He's probably too wrapped up in his own head to be truly argumentative, really... Too depressed at the dismal outlook of multiple days stuck on this station.

The good news is: IceWings love fish, actually. But, Arctic doesn't eat any yet. The tray gets set down in front of him, and he blinks at it with vague surprise. The human is gone again before he can question her, so. He mindlessly spears a smelt on one claw, staring at it absentmindedly...

Foeslayer... He's not sure why he thinks of her now. Maybe he's never really NOT thinking of her. Did she ever tell him her opinion on smelt? She must have had one. She had an opinion about everything. If he had to guess, he'd say most likely she did tell him, and they disagreed, and that would have been one of the many thousands of ridiculous arguments they'd had.

He's still staring at the fish when the human comes back again with that massive tray of meat, and... By all the snow spirits... She really wasn't messing around, was she? He blinks down at the tray of meat in utter bafflement, silent for a moment, before he looks back at her, head cocked slightly.]

...Why are you doing all of this for me?

[There's less bite to his words than usual. He sounds guarded, and suspicious, but mainly just confused. He was used to being waited on hand and foot back in the Ice Kingdom, but that was because everyone knew he was a Prince. He doesn't have that kind of status here, no matter how often he may grumble about it.]

[Because you looked like you needed a friend is the answer, and she doesn't give it to him.]

I was already going to the kitchen, and it wasn't that much extra work. I might end up stealing some of that meat from you, so watch out. [She says, with a grin. She pops back into the kitchen for a minute to grab her tray (rice, a dish of sauce, some pickled radish). And she's also grabbing a little portable grill she found under the stove. She's absolutely up for stealing some of his meat for yakiniku.]

Hmph...

[He's. Vexed and not sure what to say to that, so he just lets her go for now. By the time she comes back with her extra supplies, he is finally eating some of what's been offered to him, and he's doing it with what one might consider surprisingly good table manners, for a large apex predator? Eating his fish slowly, one at a time.

He glances at her with her little grill and her rice and such, observing with some curiosity.]

...I've never understood the appeal of cooking meat. [He still sounds grouchy, grumbling out his words, but Yuri might have the sense at this point that this is partially just his affectation. Constantly cold and bitter.] You're going to lose all of the natural flavor that way. It's a waste.

Edited 2023-10-09 18:18 (UTC)

[She steals a slice of meat off his platter, and starts it sizzling on the grill.]

Cooked meat is easier for humans to digest. [She explains.] And searing it adds flavors it wouldn't have otherwise.

[ alucard's hair is still jet black though his blond roots were slowly starting to show once more. he was merely passing by when he pauses. ]

Is something wrong?

[Arctic looks up from his talons and turns his head sharply towards Alucard; surprised to be addressed, at first. And then right back to looking guarded. He can't believe he let a moment of vulnerability slip through like that.

He snorts, tossing his head and putting his disaffected royalty mask back on.]

I was just rejoicing that I'm not stuck in that ghastly two-legged form anymore. If you really must know.

I suppose it was rather uncomfortable. More so for you than anyone else.

[ he's still touching the strands of his black hair with a frown. he looks like his father. what an uncomfortable realisation. ]

I might have dealt with it better, if I hadn't also been put in a situation where I was to interact with other dragons. I was completely unfit for proper company!

[Granted, the Dracness dragons were also uncivilized freaks as far as he's concerned, but like. It's the principle of the thing!]

[ alucard blinks. ]

I am sure you dealt with it as well as any of us did.

[SNORT! he snorts. There's a bit of frost on the exhale when he does.]

Of course I did. A good IceWing always knows how to carry himself in a diplomatic situation, even if he's not fully prepared for it... But I still would have PREFERRED not to be hindered in such a way!

I think some hindrance is acceptable. No one said these missions would be easy. Or that we would always be adequately prepared for them.

Was it the other dragons that bothered you?

[Arctic snorts and sticks his snout up and away from Alucard at the first part, evidently not willing to concede on that point but, also not wanting to keep berating it... Lest he sound like a total weakling.

He shuffles his wings and glances back over at the second question, sounding guarded in his reply:]

It was having to appear as some kind of ghastly human-dragon hybrid in front of the other dragons, when I am of pure royal IceWing blood, which bothered me. It was humiliating! And worse, when they began to retaliate for the theft of their dragonets, they saw me as a target, and not a fellow dragon!

So the lack of acknowledgement over your identity bothered you.

[ sounds like insecurity. ]

[It is 100% insecurity.]

It's not about a lack of acknowledgement at all! The point is that I was hindered!

[ alucard remains pointedly calm. ]

Yes. And I pointed out the source of your hindrance.

[Scoffing, Arctic tosses his head, making the mane of spikes around his neck rattle like an irritated snake. He side eyes the (presumed) human from above, baring his teeth slightly.]

Is there a point you're trying to make right now? And if so, do you think you could get to it already? Or at least some time before I die of old age?

[ alucard remains passive. ]

I had no idea dragons died so easily. And I did not need to make one. You know it already, you simply do not wish to confront it.

[Arctic hates passive, but he's also painfully used to it. To him, this is exactly like speaking to another IceWing noble: trading in snide, passive aggressive verbal barbs, back and forth, until one of them succeeds in flustering and shaming the other. His skills are a bit rusty, though... Not much room for practice in the Night Kingdom.]

We don't. Perhaps your constant verbal slithering and tendency to speak only in implications is just that tediously lethal. And I'll remind you that you are the one who addressed me; if you did so merely to antagonize me, then I'll say now that I'd much prefer if you went and found your entertainment elsewhere.

[Hmm... Too polite. Not enough bite. He doesn't know this guy well enough to REALLY insult him, though.]

[ buddy. ]

I think it is a bold thing to say that you're particularly entertaining. But perhaps I should expect more from a real dragon.

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[Open] An Iceberg Made of Spite

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