ataraxionlogs | (no subject)

CHARACTERS: Ladon Ceto and anyone stuck in the hallways.
LOCATION: The dark and spooky halls of the ship~
WARNINGS: Possible violence.
SUMMARY: Ladon is stuck prowling the halls in dragon form, scratching at doors and breathing smoke. Considering the panic going on, having a big fire-breathing lizard skulking around growling and spitting sparks probably isn't going to go too smoothly.

As luck would have it, Ladon had picked the worst possible moment to go check out the oxygen gardens.

He had changed forms, slipped out his door, and decided to be as stealthy as possible in finding his way there, only for the lights to dim and everything to go, well, quiet. Disturbingly quiet. The darkness he could handle, it was almost comforting in a way reserved for anyone who'd grown up in a cave. The dark was familiar and welcome compared to all the artificial light humans depended on. What wasn't welcome, and what made him feel a sudden surge of terror, was the temperature shift. There were few things that scared Ladon down to his core, and being trapped somewhere unbearably cold was one of them. His furnace kicked on in his panic, and soon he was breathing great plumes of smoke and sparks that crackled from his mouth and nostrils.

Not good. Not fucking good at all.

In desperation of finding somewhere warm, he started to lumber down the hallway, pausing now and then to scratch at the doors of different rooms, hoping the occupants would show him some mercy, all the while rumbling unhappily at the turn of events.

Scratch scratch scratch. Let me in. God, let me in, it's so cold.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Firo was well acquainted with New York's many winding alleys and streets, but the ship was something else entirely. He had not yet gotten used to the its layout, and the path he began to trace through the ship was merely his best guesswork. Backtrack a bit here, then take a different turn there; his room seemed to be out of the question since he hasn't been able to fore the door open earlier.

"You know, maybe movin' around'll help with the cold. You think?" He peered back over his shoulder to see how the dragon would respond. And, admittedly, to keep an eye on it. The fact that the dragon was staying a little ways away was somewhat reassuring, but he knew he shouldn't get too relaxed, not in a place like this.

Ladon followed. His own city had taken some time for him to learn to navigate, but it paled in comparison to the confusing nature of the ship. Partially because, well. Spaceship. And partially because while Ladon couldn't read street signs, at least Nieve had the decency to have plenty of memorable landmarks.

Moving helped a little, and he bobbed his head to that. He just worried that their quest for a blanket or some form of warmth would lead them somewhere even colder, and they wouldn't be able to find a way back.

Firo looked somewhat longingly at the doors they passed. This was the one time he actually felt like curling up in his room with whatever scraps of warmth he could find. "Doubt anybody'd lend us some..." Though Ladon probably already knew that after scratching on the doors.

Firo glanced again at the dragon. Of course he only realized it once the words were out of his mouth, but it probably wasn't the best idea to point that out. Could dragons be offended? If they could understand human speech, then probably. "No offense or anything. I probably wouldn't wanna open my door for anybody on a creepy spaceship."