Storm front

The big attack right? What attack happened in London? It's hard to keep up to date with things when you don't watch the news, or listen to the gossip. He found himself cocking his head to the side as if asking for him to elaborate, and ultimately, he elaborated quite well. There was an explosion and an invasion it sounded like. Somebody named Erebus, kicking the shit out him and then throwing his boyfriend into the void? Wait- the VOID!? BOYFRIEND!?

 "You have a boyfriend?" Jordan asked, though it was an absent minded comment. Then he heard the name Deimos, a big sexy dragon? That was a relatable phrase that he could understand but it also sounded weird from a lack of use around him. But out of all of it he was given time to think. London was destroyed, and the city was saved right? What happened to the people? Was everything okay now? Why did it look the way it did when he dropped his dad off? So many important questions to ask, but he had to remember what his dad taught him. Prioritize the information.

 "So how sexy we talking? Like....scale of one to ten?" He didn't get to have this conversation a lot, so he had to definitely prioritize this one. He crossed his arms, before shaking his head and realizing he got distracted.

  "Oh wait- no. Right. I'll be back in a few hours. Make yourself comfortable uhm...blue cultists will bring food." He said as he left the pizza boxes behind, unsure if they'd all be eaten. Meanwhile Jordan had some swimming to do.

Spoiler:

 Jordan went faster than he cared to confess. He had to tap into his power several times, surging forth with a vicious aura, one that caused many creatures within the water to fight among themselves, entire schools of fish suddenly began to cannibalize each other like they were Swedish. Though finally, after following the exact same path, he had returned to where his father had dropped off. He shifted himself back to his human form before he was caught.

 His father stood there, finishing up the last part of the equipment required for the dive and swim back. He walked over to a table and picked something up in his arms, carrying it over like a rug. Jordan lifted himself out of the water, sitting on the dock and looking to his dad and messed up his own hair.

 "So...I made a friend. Kinda needs your help though."

  "We have enough going on right now. We need to get back to LA. Everyone will be meeting us there." his father said with an almost apathetic tone. That wasn't like him, he only talked like that when his brain was in "kill-them" mode. Jordan began to worry as his shoulders slumped.

  "I-uhm. He's a dragon. I figured nobody to help like the Dragon King. Heh" He said. His father was silent as he brough over the bags then put the mask on. He then put the mouthpiece in and looked to the water. "I uhm. Are you okay I just sort of-Can you stop talking? Please? I am so happy that you've managed to meet a new friend. I am currently trying to figure out everything that has happened here. An entire city returned to ash and rebuilt in the span of an hour and nobody seems to know what is going on, and combat it before it happens again. Please...I'm sorry just...please take me home." His father's voice cracked in the end, the emotion was something he found completely shocking. He didn't even know how to react. He gulped down and nodded, before diving into the water and transforming.

  The way back was not a very talkative one, just like last time. He took a small break, then swam back. This time he had to keep hold of his father even better, as he kept speeding himself the best he could through his surges of savagery.

  As they got back to the lair, he managed to surface and drop his father off, all before emerging himself. His father began peeling his wetsuit off, pulling his shirt off and then walking over to a chest, where clean and dry clothes had been stored. Jordan got out of the water and started to shake himself, letting electrical blue energy burn over his body, jumping like electricity and evaporating the water to steam as he messed up his own hair.

  "Oh uhm so. I'm sorry but uh...my friend is here. I just...uh." He was stammering and froze when the man looked at him. His father looked tired, his eyes were bloodshot, the bags under his eyes were terrible. He looked more like a raccoon than a person as the small stubble began to peak from his upper lip. He closed his eyes and nodded.

 "I'm sorry...yes. Let's go help your friend." He said with a sigh, as if the hours had given him time to mellow out. Jordan wanted to tell his father to forget about it, but he was already on his way to the throne room, and he was scared to let Jordan wait for nothing.

  With dry clothes, and Jordan wearing a cloak wrapped around himself, the duo walked into the throne room. His father crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side. There were a few cultists that stood there, discussing the green-haired visitor.

 "So, this is the Jordan of green scales." He mused as he stared at Jordan, whom was positioned several feet away.

”I have a boyfriend yeah. A few actually now that I think about it,” He noted, the many faces coming to mind. Deimos was close to him of course, but there was also the others he had allowed into his heart. Each taking up their own places, making him feel a kind of warmth that he rarely felt in general.  Things quickly moved to a question of the sexy dragon, something that drew a chuckle from him.

”Ten at least. He like slammed his hammer and made Erebus fuck right off. I can introduce you two sometime, Deimos is pretty cool,” The pride in his voice was quite apparent, something that showed he thought the person he was talking about was very cool. With that the other Jordan said his good byes and he gave the dragon a playful pat on the shoulder. ”See you soon! I’ll just wait here and entertain myself,” He watched the dragon dive into the ocean, leaving him alone to contemplate how to spend his time as he paced the room.

The various creatures had their eyes on him, a few of the smaller ones walking up to him and considering the brown and green haired man with curious expressions. He smiled at them and they revealed their fangs in what he assumed was a smile back.  From there it led to him play around with him, spending a good half hour running around the throne room while he chased some and they chased him in return with a fleet of blue cloaked cultists just watching. If he was bothering them he didn’t know, though they said nothing to the effect.

Once that was done he sat down, forming a chair of green energy to keep from having to sit on the floor. ”Can I have some food guys? I’m thinking...some kind of fish. You guys got sushi?” A few of the blue robes nodded and walked off, leaving him alone once again to try and entertain himself once again.

And then Jordan’s weird brother came around to start flirting with him again. He was pretty insistent but eventually walked away, to do whatever he did. So Jordan fished his phone which was somehow still not destroyed from his pocket and texted a few of the boyfriends, inquiring how they were doing and  just sending selfies. It elicited questions though they knew better than asking too deeply about things.

Two hours later he was just sprawled across the floor, huffing to himself. A massive platter of sushi now summarily consumed, alongside a few bowls of soup and other sea foods they promised would be fresh. He was still hungry and he was still bored.

So he wandered the halls around the throne room a little more, trying to talk with some of the cultists and a few people he found out were Jordan’s siblings. They seemed cool, so he got along with them well enough. Soon enough Jordan returned, along with someone else. There was someone with him, younger than him too which confused him. ”That’s me. This one of your brothers too? ” He smiled, green scales rippling across his flesh to show he was indeed that Jordan before it became skin once again. ”Your dad just behind the two of you?”

Jordan laughed a little bit as he looked at his father. He closed his eyes, the kind smile on his face slightly turning to an irritated one as he let out a small sigh. Jordan reached over and rubbed his dad's back, trying to reassure him. He simply shook his head and chuckled.

"No. I am the dad." He said with a slight edge of irritation in his voice. He looked Jordan over real quick before noticing a vibrant green streak of hair. He uncrossed an arm and reached out to brush it, inspecting it as if it were an illusion. "Cute hair. Good color." He said before crossing his arms again. Jordan nodded, as if the compliment were some kind of approval. He then stepped around to the side and bent over to pick up the charred scroll.

"So we need some training-" Jordan started, but when he turned he saw his father putting a finger over his mouth, not even looking to Jordan, but still telling him to be quiet.

"I can appreciate you getting to the point, but don't speak for your friend when you haven't even introduced him." He said, trying to remind his son of some proper etiquette. Jordan's jaw dropped slightly and then he made a grimace, as if he had forgotten something that inflicted a kind of pain.

"R-right! Sorry. Dad, this is Jordan. Jordan this is my dad uhm..." Jordan then looked to his father, as if he had permission to use his name. He nodded and smiled at Jordan. "The King of Dragons, The Father of Leviathans. True Name to remain hidden, He goes by Matt"

Did he say something wrong? Jordan looked between the two of them, noting the change within the mans expression as well as his scent.  He hoped he didn’t piss off one of Jordan’s sibli-oh that was his dad. He looked around eighteen or nineteen, so it was hard to tell that he was the parent to the older looking half dragon. Despite that he nodded, as if recognizing that fact.  ”Of course, I shoulda guessed that,” He had no way of guessing it but he didn’t want to admit it. Something within him pushed for just pretending it should have been obvious.

”Like the eyes. Very nice to look into,” It was a compliment but there was something behind it for those looking, or even able to see. He smiled, pleased with the quick compliment/flirtatious remark.  There was a little something that passed between the two of them as Jordan began talking and his dad quickly cut him off.  Nothing was said from him, he just watched until introduced.

”Hi daddy...okay that was too far.” He chuckled to himself,  giving a small wave. ”Nice to meetcha Matt. Jordan’s right though. I need a little help with something and he said you’d know how to do it. Something to do with my breath, gets all sweaty,sticky and makes me explode when fire touches me. Messed up my clothes...though he fixed them right up so not an issue. Think you can help up with that?”

Jordan looked confused as his friend called his father daddy. He couldn't help but notice his father chuckle, something he was happy to hear. He relaxed as his friend had explained exactly what was going on with the situation. His father's smile seemed genuine enough, though an eyebrow cocked when Jordan was describing his breath weapon. Jordan decided to start cleaning some stuff up. Cultists approached, always stopping and bowing before the man, who waved them off almost immediately, showing disdain for the reverence shown. They all immediately began to come and assist Jordan with the cleaning up, insisting he sit down.

"weird breathing, sweaty and sticky with a bit of a burst? That just sounds like fun. The fire part, that's the buzzkill." He said with a smirk as he turned around and walked over to Jordan, taking the scroll out from under his arm "Thanks bud." He said as he rubbed his eyes and started reading over the scroll. He was continually speaking something Draconic, a hard feat to do with a human tongue.

"Vaerosdac....hm. Let's see...hm. yes." He said as he stepped off to the side. "I need to confirm which of the three breath weapons it is. I need you to use it for me, can you do that?" He asked the other Jordan, motioning for his Jordan to step away. He was more than happy to do so, marching away with some cultists a bit before settling in and handing them stuff. he was out of regeneration for a while, so he had to be careful.

The mans laugh seemed lighthearted. A genuine kind of thing that made him feel good making it happen. People deserved to laugh, even if it was at his misguided attempts at flirting. So he could smile, returning the gesture and laughing along with him. ”Fires only a problem with a few candles.” He shrugged, winking a little as if he were implying something. Then turning to the other Jordan, just smiling despite himself.

The dad said soemthing that sounded like something that Deimos would say but all he heard was something sac.  Cocking his head to the side like a confused dog. ”Use it? I’ll try,” He nodded, drawing upon the same sensation, the feeling within his stomach that spread outwards as well as the rune that appeared within his mind.

Then came the feeling of stickiness across his body as well as the sweet smell once again filling the room. He opened his eyes, considering Matt with a slightly breathless smile. ”See? Now I’m all sweaty, kinda sticky and I smell...pretty nice,” He poked his arm, feeling the strange substance trying to stick to the finger as he pulled away. ”What do ya think?”

To the comment about candles, he only pointed up into the air, where there had been levitating candles. "They're there for a reason." He said the tone making it seem like he couldn't believe that Jordan hadn't figured that out. Matt then stepped back and waited.

He watched Jordan as he focused and took a breath in, he turned a pink color that almost seemed curious as a prismatic sweat began to form almost instantly. He was curious as he watched the man huffing for his breath. He walked a bit closer and circled the man, he did the same as his son before him. He leaned in and began to sniff slightly before recoiling, eyes blinking as his pupils shifted. He then took a finger and swiped it over Jordan's cheek before putting it in his mouth. There was no flirty look, only sheer focus. His expression softened as his mouth burned and he nodded.

"What do I think? Not in front of the kids." He said before turning around and going over to the bag he had brought in. He began to rummage through it before taking something out. He quickly seemed to spray the substance on himself as he felt his world fade.

"Think he can help?" Jordan asked as he walked up beside his friend, noticing the smell so he was being careful to not touch his friend. That lasted all of two minutes until he slapped his friend on the back playfully, only to feel the slick and sticky substance, causing Jordan's face to twist in disgust. "Ah! C'mon. Fuckin' breath power." He cursed as he walked away, towards the water to wash his hand off as his father returned from his bag.

"Alright, you ready hot-shot?" He asked as he cracked his knuckles. His body pulsed with a preternatural power as he smiled wildly. "You got wings? You'll need 'em."

”Guess they are. Note for later,” He grinned, just enjoying what little back and forth existed between. His eyes looked up, considering the candles floating above them.

Wit the prismatic sheen of sweet sweat on him now, he let his eyes follow Matt, wondering what he was going to say or do. Those different colored eyes just looking over him, lost in a deep kind of thought before he reached out and swiped a finger across the his cheek. Drawing away with it some of it and seemingly tasting it. Was that a thing someone should do? He didn’t say anything but he was concerned about it.

”Promises promises,” He smirked, turning to Jordan who was keeping a few steps away from him before just slapping him on the back. He lurched a little, though his expression didn’t read as annoyance.

”Should  be careful then. Know how sticky I can get with the breath weapon,” He chuckled. His attention turned to the man pulsing with a strange kind of energy not there before. Maybe it was something that made him the king of dragons, now that made sense. He nodded, letting his wings rip through the back of his shirt which was now lacking the slits he had made for them.

They were emerald green draconic wings more sized to lift a human body, luminous with green energy. He let them stretch out, looking to the man with a ‘there you go’ gesture. ”I can make certain dragon parts, think you might like the tail the best,”

Jordan didn't read the situation of what was going on. He nodded and agreed that he indeed should have known. He was the one who helped unlock his breath weapon to begin with. He was proud of his friend for the way he was willing to persevere through the process of learning from someone else. Jordan always struggled with that, he had an issue with authority in general. He just loved to break shit that had control over others. Even his powers existed to do that. Sadly his powers weren't as benevolent as he wished they were.

His father had said about the dragon wings. They had a back and forth, but Jordan focused on cleaning his hand. He figured his father would do a boring rant. Then Jordan spoke about thinking his father would like the tail creation better.

"I'd be more impressed if you knew how to use it." He said as he stretched his arms out across his chest. That was a very dad response, Jordan admitted. Just when you think you can impress him, there's something he has for a comment to keep you humble. Jordan only seemed more confident though. He was envious of his friend, he wished he was that confident when it came to learning.

"You're going to extent your wings out and back, like you're trying to blot out the sun. It'll feel weird because you're on the ground and that's typically something you only do in flight. But do it. Then, when you come down, you're going to speed up, as if you're going to push off the ground here, but then slow down right about here. On level with your pectorals. Then you slow it down using the muscles int he back of the wings. Not the front. Again, it will feel weird. This will cause the wings to follow through near the ends of the wings and by time your wings are down they'll feel like they whipped behind you slightly. This will feel mor natural in your dragon form, when you get it." His instruction was as best as he could give. He used his arms to display where the wings will be and how they'll be going to move. The whiplash effect would be the hardest part to master, it always was. His father walked over to Jordan and walked around him, holding the wings and slowly walking him through the steps, poking and pressing into the conjoining area between the wings and the back muscles to emphasize which muscles would be used.

"I almost forgot he's a medical guy...how do you go from taking care of people to....that?" He asked himself quietly, looking over to his father's bag and grimacing when he saw the mask of the horrid vigilante. He looked back to his father and Jordan.

"No, not enough force. It's a perfect balance. Pull back, be flashy, I can tell you're good at that. Yeah, then push down, powerful. Pull back right here. Like you're trying to scare someone, but you pull your punch last second. Try hunching your shoulders a bit...When you push down, channel your mana to make a mini-pulse on the tip of your wings.. You want to whip this stuff everywhere."

Jordan was having to repeat this over and over again, but his dad was still patient. That was unusual. But finally...Jordan did it. His wings almost flopped down, whipping and suddenly there was a prismatic mist that seemed to emanate from around Jordan, the mist that didn't coat over his father or items, fell to the ground slowly but also drifted outwards ever so slowly.

”You’d be surprised what I can do,” Briefly a draconic tail formed from his lower back and playfully flicked in his general direction. Quickly fading away into whatever energy it appeared from. With that, he just let his mind open to whatever the man might have to say. If he had valuable knowledge, it was good to listen. His parents taught him that, listen to his elders and if this guy was old enough to have a kid as old as other Jordan he must have been some kind of elder despite also looking younger.

So he listened, trying to remember and follow every step that was given to him. Precise wing movements he first even had to internalize, before letting his wings move in that kind of way. The first few times it didn’t seem to work out, the way his wings flapped or twitched not really doing it right, though each time he felt as if he were getting better with the practice. There was a mention of a dragon form, which drew his attention though he didn’t say anything about that. It was an option he had hoped, though the information into how to do it was another matter entirely.

Other Jordan mentioned him knowing medical things, which sounded pretty impressive.  The rest he didn’t quite catch when a few presses at muscles drew his attention towards them instead. ”Flashy I can do,” Jordan noted, now fully into trying to get this whole thing right. With all of those small lessons in his mind, his wings now whipped properly to propel the prismatic mist outwards, pulling it from his own body. It made him less sticky to be sure, though he was certain anyone within the cloud would now feel that way.

Matt was now covered with the prismatic mist. A faint sheen that was visible to him, faintly sweet that mingled with the mans natural scent. ”Didn’t mean to get it all over you. Now you’re the sticky one,” he chuckled to himself, turning to Jordan. ”Well, I guess I found a way to not blow myself up. Pretty cool right? I think that means I can blow other things up, however that works.”

"Not the first time." His father said before starting to wipe his face off and messing up his own hair, the fuel smell filling the open expanse of a chamber. "A shame if it's the last, too."

"That's awesome! So how does he ignite it?" Jordan asked as he watched the misty prismatic particles slowly drift towards the ground, carried off by the subtle wind in the chamber, produced from the throne.

"You'll get good enough at this. You'll take a deep breath in as you pull the wings back, then exhale as you're doing the rest. It'll be a faster set-up than other breath users, actually. Covers more area. Just make sure to practice. Then you'll just need a spark. It'll cause a chain reaction of an outward explosion, like a pulse wave of pain. This is one of the most dangerous breath weapons of Earthen Dragon kind. Master it and even larger dragons will steer clear." His father explained a little bit, letting Jordan revel in the moment of having mastered a badass skill. He gave Jordan's hair a ruffle before a slap on the back and then walking over to the water to wash his own face off. A tricky thing to do considering the polarity of the substance. Jordan stood up and walked over towards the other one.

"Okay so uhm...warning. Now you're going to have to show him you can do it under pressure. So uhm...like. Do it quickly, okay?" Jordan said it almost sounded as if he was pleading for his friend, as if he had seen this happen before. Probably because he had. His father was a merciless taskmaster when it came to training. His father stood up from the water and walked back, pulling his sleeves up.

"Alright. Guess what time it is?" He asked, cracking his neck and lifting one knee up to his chest, then repeating the motion on the opposite knee.

”Doesn’t gotta be,” He quipped, looking to Jordan who asked about how tro ignite the breath itself. That was a good question because otherwise  he was pretty sure he got the feeling down, that tingling within his body of the mana moving through and settling in certain places. It shouldn’t be too hard though he was also uncertain how quickly he could do it...especially under pressure.  Well if he had to he had to right?

”Sounds pretty powerful,” He nodded in approval at the breath he managed to develop. It might even become something that became dangerous once he managed to master it. He didn’t really flinch at the back slap, just letting his eyes follow the man and sitting there before Jordan spoke up.

He blinked blankly. ”What kinda pressure?” He questioned, looking to Jordan with a questioning look.  He looked to Matt who stood up, sticky breath stuff washed from his face. Taking on what looked to be fighting position, leaving him a little nervous before slipping into a fighting stance. It was all too familiar compared to when he used to spar with Sammy who was very good at flipping him around. He got nauseous from all the flipping around.

”Hammer time?” He questioned, quickly scrambling for the sensation that came with the summoning of his breath weapon while also defending himself in combat.  This was going to be something.

Jordan watched as both his friend and his father took a stance. His friend Jordan began to take a deep breath in, and he got blitzed immediately. Even as an observer, his eyes widened as his father moved with an inhuman speed. His heart sank, did his father have to take some of that stuff just to teach his friend without getting hurt? Well, that did no good because now everybody except those two would get hurt. The middle of the breath his father was right in his face and with a mediocre wind-up he threw his fist into half-dragon's abdomen. There was a delayed sonic clap upon impact as the entire cave around them began to vibrate, some of it even cracking and letting water in before the magics of this place quickly repaired it.

"D-dad that's a little rough!" He shouted, trying to dissuade his father form such a display of force. Though he had to confess he knew that wasn't the worst that the scary mist had done to augment him. He had thought Jordan was indestructible. He had hoped this was true. He watched as the other Jordan tried to gasp for air, any small portions he could get forced out.

"You telegraphed with your diaphragm." He said as he stepped back slightly. His skill without the mist let him keep up and combat people multiples stronger and faster than him, but with the mist? It was hard to assume that his friend would win. Though he didn't seem to be keen on just unleashing an unrelenting attack to batter or break the one he was teaching. "You'll learn, association through pain. It's how humans learn. Dragons too. Don't be afraid to multi-task. Use every asset you have to defend yourself. It's like one of those base-building games." He said, trying to relate the lesson here to some kind of pop-culture thing that might be understood.

He stepped back a small bit as he let Jordan recover, though he kept his guard up. He wasn't about to be made a fool of or caught unsuspecting.

He thought he was ready. Really he did but that was wrong. One minute the man was there, and then next he was gone. Whatever speed he was running at it was too much for him to keep track off, and the clap that followed which shook the cave.  There was also the hope his body could withstand it, the scales forming over his stomach to protect him without him even thinking but they weren’t enough. Not when the fist slammed into his stomach, that was followed by a pain he couldn’t even describe.

He didn’t really notice when his otherwise durable body punched through, flesh made delicate to the immense force of it all. The taste of copper quickly rushed to his mouth, a spill of blood that spattered across the floor into a puddle. Was it supposed to hurt this bad? Why did his body just decide to be so painfully human?  Despite that his body was knitting itself back together, the injury closing up as quick as possible as if it weren’t even there. This had happened once before, when Sammy punched him in the right spot and burst one of his kidneys. It didn’t heal for a little and he was pretty sure he was dead at that.

Not stabbing himself through that same spot was...tough. ”Now...that...just not fair,” He coughed, forcing the rest of the blood out before he could stand up with shaky legs. Trying to draw upon the same green energy he could use, which formed in ineffectual sparks before finally forming a wavering gauntlet around his right arm. More reaching for the energy within him, anything before he acted. It felt like things were working again, far quicker than it had last time. Was some other magic making him work again?

”Okay, let’s try this again,” He spat out a glob of blood, spreading his energy outwards in the form of many green scale patterned constructs, pulling on all of the energy he could form and creating what looked to be a spinning minefield of blades between him and the man. Would they do any good? He formed a multilayered field over his stomach, wrapped around his body to keep it in blade with the hope it would hold.  

Breathe deep, let the magic spread out over and away from him. He could do this.  He couldn’t let the man punch him like that again. Whatever pain he was feeling, he pushed it back and only looked towards the goal.

He was learning, already from one painful moment he had learned that his father chose his education plan of his friend well. His father moved rather quickly, mixing the reflexes he had as a mortal with the strange empowerment he had through the mist. He was much faster than one would think. The Minefield was laid out, though from that moment on he was moving. He knew an enemy wouldn't wait for his friend, and neither would his father. The Villain's villain would show Jordan just what it meant ot be the dragon king.

  He knew his father was holding back, but even then he moved through the minefields, navigating with a strange precision. He wondered what lesson his father would teach this time? Jordan leaned his wings back, took a breath in and suddenly, there it was, the opportunity. The blades he navigated around would be a huge problem if he didn't have access to bursts of intense speed, even compared to a fast metahuman. He didn't want to abuse the power, but he wanted to ensure when he sent this dragon into the world, he would be able to hold his own. He regretted the force he used moments earlier, but even then...he wasn't trying that hard.

  The human quickly exploited the opening as he saw the creature breathing in. He vanished in a split second and reappeared with a foot on the back of Jordan's head, his arms down, grasping the large wings not but a few inches from their base. He began to pull on them as his foot pressed against the back of the man's neck. But rather than do something terrible, he simply restrained the wings.

 "Don't get frustrated. I've got your wings, and if a slack-armed smack like the last one did that much damage, I'm not going to be any more rough than I need to be. But hold here for a second." He said, as if pausing the battle. He cleared his throat and let out a slight sigh, as if he had been holding in a breath for quite some time. "You're not going to be able to wrestle your wings away from me. You can't leave me here. I've got too much control over you from here. Think it over. What do you do now?"

He wasn’t sure if this was a training session or a practice in sadism. The vast field of spinning blades looked like it had no openings in it, and yet the man casually stepped through it as if it were nothing. Rapidly his eyes searched around for the target, though he wasn’t quick enough to respond to the foot slamming into the back of his head, or the floor that came to meet him. This time he didn’t give under the weight of the things beneath him, though the ground did crack from the sheer force of it.

Slack armed smack? What the hell? He thought to himself, feeling a part of his mind begin to rise. A more primal feeling one that wanted blood. Not this play but something more. Despite that he tried to push his head up, quite eating stone so to speak. He should have been pissed, but this was just a show of everything he was lacking.  If his wings were restrained then it was fine, he didn’t need them.

”If they’re in my way I don’t need them,”

So he willed his tail into being, a prehensile extension of himself that moved to wrap around the mans other leg. It was by no means strong enough to hold him in place, but maybe it would be enough to knock him off balance. In a bout of rage fueled by his desire to just get this right, he forced the energy within him outwards. The scales around his wings glowing a violently and brilliant green. That was when they disappeared, forming into ephemeral green energy and slipping into his back.

If breathing was the tell he just didn’t need to inhale. Just imagine it all over him, the scales forming over his arm and the claws in the other. Proverbial flint and tinder.  If he could pull the man off balance he would run the claws against his scales, creating a spark that would follow with a boom. If not, well he just looked like he was flailing his tail against him and made himself look even more foolish.