"Okay, there he is," Skye said, cracking her knuckles. "I grab him, you beat him."
"Skye...that is real world far right provocateur and neo-nazi shill Andy Ngo," Jeremy whispered back to his silver dragon as the two of them crouched in an alleyway in downtown Portland, Oregon, the smell of distant fires tingling in their noses.
"Yeah, and?" Skye asked.
Jeremy sighed.
And today had started off so very not even the slightest bit normal, at all. After his catgirl maid had professed to love him, Jeremy Bayer thought that he might have a few seconds to think about that. Instead, he'd been approached by the most...
active
of his dragon girlfriends, Skye Silver. She had dressed herself in some very advanced, high tech battle armor (for the 12
th
century, which was the primary mode of reference she still had even after a week of being hatched) and had proclaimed her intention that they should fight crime.
In Bohemia.
"Bohemia doesn't exist anymore," Jeremy said.
"Yes it does, I checked on
Maps!" Syke said, pushing the visor up on her helmet with a squeal and creak. She grinned at him. "No giant crater there, it's not like Mu, it's still above the ocean."
"No, I mean...it's not called Bohemia anymore," Jeremy said. "It's just...the...I want to say...Czech? The Czech...Republic?" He narrowed his eyes. "Somewhere around there, I think?"
"Yeah, and it's likely full of crime," Skye said. "I've been reading your illuminated texts -- Watchmen, the Authority, Phonograph, and they all seem pretty clear, we need to put on costumes and beat up crime."
"
That's
what you got from Phonograph!?" Morgan asked, her ears flattening back against her head.
"Kinda, I was only half paying attention," Skye said, nodding so emphatically that her helmet visor squealed and clacked down, making her voice into an echoing, ominous thing. "There's evil afoot in the world both grand and small. The rich are getting richer, the poor are getting poorer, vile hateful fools are spreading their vicious lies about the queer and the alien -- all while people who stand against the finest traditions of Athens plot in open to overthrow the fundamentals of democracy and the glorious purpose of the French Revolution!" She lifted her hand in a fist. "We cannot stand aside and allow this! I'm a
goddamn
silver dragon, do you think I'll let some Burbonist capitalize on a few misguided years and the specter of the guillotine to turn back the works of centuries!"
Morgan and Jeremy gaped at her.
"Have you been reading history textbooks?" Morgan asked.
"I have access...TO WIKIPEDIA!" Skye's voice was triumphant.
Jeremy rubbed his hands against his face. "Okay!" he laughed, softly. "At least you want to use your absurd dragon powers for something
other
than getting me laid." He nodded. "Lets stick with America, though. I don't know enough about Europe to know who to kick in the face."
"...can we...still go to Bohemia?" Skye asked.
"Why?" Morgan asked.
"I had an ulterior motive."
***
Morgan clung to Jeremy and Jeremy clung to Skye as Skye winged through the air, her sleek, silvery body sailing through the clouds. The shimmering waters of the Atlantic glittered beneath them, whipping by far faster than they had any right to do. Jeremy had to admit...he was rather enjoying the feeling of the night air on his face, the coolness of it less than he'd have expected. He was enjoying the flight. And he was enjoying the warmth of a dragon between his thighs and a catgirl against his back. When he looked over the side of Skye's shoulder, he could see that they were just hitting the coast of France.
"Morgan," Jeremy said, and felt the girl stir and lift her head as they flew above the city lights of Paris, glittering brightly. "Wake up, we're almost there."
"Mmhm, wasn't sleeping..." Morgan mumbled, nuzzling against his neck.
"Oh, neat," Skye said, cheerfully. "It drifted. That means something's gone wrong -- more chance for adventure!"
"Huh?" Jeremy blinked -- then his eyes widened as he saw, hovering above what appeared to be the eastern edge of France...was a castle. It was a heavy stone structure with turrets and forlornly flapping, tattered flags, illuminated only by the silvery fullness of the moon that hung overhead in the glittering night sky. The castle had a closed up front gate and looked completely abandoned...and it was also nestled atop a cloud, which was thick and bushy like downy fluff. Skye flew down, then landed upon the cloud, tilting her head back. She bumped her snout against Jeremy's forehead, then against Morgan.
Then she shifted away from under them.
Jeremy screamed as his feet dropped towards the cloud that was, to him,
entirely
solid. His feet struck the cloud -- and he stumbled and fell forward into the downy fluff of it. It was like standing on solid earth, surrounded by a thin mist that tickled his nose. He pushed himself to his feet, while Morgan snorted and shook her head at him. She had changed before they had gotten onto the dragon -- replacing her maid outfit with her jeans and T-shirt combo.
Fetish was fetish, yeah, but comfort seemed to be more important for her when it came to adventures on dragonback.
"Obviously, she cast magic on us, Jere. You big goober," she said, elbowing him as he stood and looked over at Skye, who had taken her normal human form. Jeremy realized he could save, like, a paragraph of salivating description to just say 'she looked like Korra from Legend of Korra.'
...so, she had broad, muscular shoulders with strong arms that were lined with sleek muscles -- accentuating her dark brown skin. Her hair was short cropped and dark, framing a cheerful, confident looking face with a pair of glittering, silvery eyes and a wide, generous mouth. Her preferred clothes tended to show off a lot of belly muscle, and that was no different now, considering she was in a tank top that looked about half a size too small, and a pair of jean shorts. She bounced on her feet, rolling her shoulders and her head to loosen herself up.
"Alllllll right," she said. "So, this is the Castle of Cloudmourn. Well, okay, the original name is more like..." She paused. "
Mrak Smrti.
Or something. I dunno, language." She waved her hand. "It was my mother's home, back before she laid me. She built it with magic, and it should be chockablock full of treasure. Except it should totally also be, like, you know...over Bohemia. Not France."
"You say that like it's a good thing," Morgan said.
"Yeah!" Skye beamed. "That means something's gone
wrong
."
"Okay, take what I said, but repeat it slower," Morgan said.
"We get to find out and beat it up!" Skye's huge smile got even toothier. "Fun!"
Morgan nodded. "Aight," she said, flexing her fingers to get her claws to spring out. Jeremy scratched the back of his neck.
"And what am I armed with?" he asked, frowning. Morgan and Skye looked at him, then Morgan snapped her fingers, grinning wickedly.
"Heart," she said.
"There's a magic sword right in there," Skye said, pointing at the castle. "We just have to get it -- and then you'll have a magic sword. Win win!" She turned, then walked forward and then shoved her shoulder against the front doors of the castle. Since said doors were a titanic wooden edifice, banded in heavy steel wrapping-things that looked riveted straight into the wood...Jeremy wasn't entirely sure he saw the chances of that working. Of course, he had forgotten that he was dealing with draconic bullshit here, and so, the gates instead began to creak slowly open as Skye's feet sent up tiny puffs of white cloud-stuff as she walked on it, her face tight as she clenched her teeth.
Okay, the doors had to be heavy if she was working that hard.
Jeremy and Morgan stepped into the castle courtyard.
Shadows loomed about them -- the walls too high to let anything but the edge of silvery moonlight dust along the upper edges of the far walls. The resulting glow was just barely enough to indicate that they were surrounded by
something
