08-28-2015, 06:01 PM
Like usual, her help jumped the gun.
The Mage’s attacks wilted in the face of the Empire guards and their superior fighting prowess. Within a few quick blows, her bodyguard had been disabled and the white-armored troop turned their futuristic-looking weapons on Daenerys. Never one to be outwitted even when she was outgunned, the princess quickly lifted up her hands. “I surrender,” she said, taking a cautious step backward. Her eyes flitted down to the Mage, crumpled on the ground. Certainly she couldn’t just leave him—he’d saved her life. But she couldn’t just stand by and let these guards capture her this easily. She was a prize.
Her offer to relinquish herself to them worked exactly as she planned; the guards lowered their weapons, content to take her in without a fight. That had never been the khaleesi’s plan, though, and she quickly spun on her heel and sprinted off. Within seconds, she could feel the weight of her earlier fainting spell plaguing her, but this time, it wasn’t her own body that betrayed her.
A three-pronged projectile struck her in the back moments after she’d taken off running, and like a true fighter, she fell to the ground, spasming from the shockwaves pulsing throughout her body. Her vision darkened as the Empire’s soldiers approached her, until finally, it went black.
When her eyes flickered open, she wasn’t imprisoned. Rather, she seemed to be sitting in a rather comfortable chair, staring at a man in a finely-pressed gray uniform, hands folded behind his back. He stood against a railing a few meters away from her, his eyes tracing her figure with a strange sense of interest. Daenerys immediately felt herself being violated, and so she very quickly pulled herself together, straightening her stance and crossing her legs.
Surprisingly enough, they hadn’t even bound her. Her hands remained her own, and if she wanted, she could’ve gotten up and walked out of the room, provided the only other occupant let her. As it were, she decided to not take that chance. She would admit that her spitfire personality got the best of her.
“Release me at once,” she demanded, determined to prove to the man that she was the authority here. Perhaps she was free to walk out, but she wanted to make it clear that he had no right to bring her here in the first place. She had more titles attached to her name than he could probably have ever dreamed of. “And tell me where my companion is,” she tacked on, remembering all of a sudden the Black Mage. She would ensure that the boy accompanied her wherever she went, no matter how reckless he may have been; he had only been trying to protect her, after all.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” the man’s slimy voice oozed, and Dany let out an obviously-annoyed sigh, “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Captain Renalds, one of the men in charge of the Empire’s outpost in Carrefore.”
This man didn’t seem to realize that she still had little idea what the fuck the “Empire” even was. At this point, they were nothing more than a bunch of boringly-dressed soldiers with interesting firepower to Daenerys. Well, that, and obviously enemies. The princess tried to stand, but found herself having a bit more trouble than usual—still feeling the effects of the shockwaves, she supposed. Hmph. They would pay for their insolence.
“I really don’t care who you are,” the rightful queen spat back, her words laced with venom, “All I want is to know what you want with me.”
“Well, Miss Targaryen,” Renalds tilted his head to one side, “you see, we here in the Empire take a special interest in Primes such as yourself. There are considerably less of you than there are of me—secondaries, if you will—and so when we stumble upon one, especially one with as much spirit as you and your companion, we like to… observe your behavior for a while.”
“I am not your lab rat,” Daenerys growled, marching toward him.
“No, no, no,” Renalds smirked, “At least… not yet.” The khaleesi quirked an eyebrow, and Renalds revealed one of his hands, holding a long, intimidating-looking syringe. With one swift motion, the captain jammed it in her arm, and her eyes went wide. “We needed you conscious in order to be able to properly complete the experiment,” he explained, “and someone told me you like dragons, hm?”
“I… I am the Moth… I am the Mother of Dragons,” Dany stammered through gritted teeth as she clawed for the syringe. Renalds nodded, condescension painting his expression.
“Yes, when my people were taking a look at you while you slept, they found tidbits of dragon DNA on your skin and clothes,” he said. “We’ve been having some dragon issues ourselves here in the Omniverse, so… I decided to see how you’d react to being injected with some of their code.”
Dany coughed up blood. “Their… what?”
But she didn’t hear the answer. Her vision blurred over. Her hearing went fuzzy. And once again—for the third time since she’d been in this fucking place—she blacked out.
When she woke up again, she was in a prison cell. Leaned up against the wall, this time she couldn’t see anyone observing her in a creepy fashion like Captain Renalds had; she simply found herself alone, behind some metal bars.
A quick glance to the cell next to her revealed the status of her companion. Black Mage remained unconscious, lying shirtless and hatless on the ground. He looked… different than she had imagined him. Not altogether unattractive, but most definitely not what she had envisioned when she thought about what lay underneath that thick layer of robe and straw hat. She began to feel a wooziness taking over inside her skull, and pressed her palm to her forehead.
Ouch, she thought, the pain of her fingers touching her head strangely poignant. She glanced down at them. She was not prepared for what she saw.
Scales.
The cell was dark, true, but she could see just enough to note that emerald-green dragon scales covered her arm from the tips of her fingers, past the wrist restraints, to just below her elbow. From her elbow up, her alabaster skin remained until she reached her shoulder. Her shoulders, collarbone, and neck were also blanketed by the green scales, stopping just above her breasts; she reached up with a clawed hand and felt her face, noticing that just over half of it had been transformed into the skin of a dragon, and the other half remained perfectly pristine, just as it had been before being injected with the essence of dragon.
She took a deep breath, and a long, serpentine tongue rolled out of her mouth. She recoiled it, tried to scream and realized the metallic thing in her mouth muffled it. She bit down and felt her abnormally-large fangs crash into the metal thing, shattering it.
She felt tears begin to roll down her scaly cheek, and now that her voice had been freed, she had the loud sobs to accompany them.
Her white dress was ripped and torn where the scales had poked through; below her chest, no part of her had yet succumbed to the genetic infusion’s side-effects, but the princess had a feeling that perhaps, within a short amount of time, her entire body would look like that of one of her beloved pet’s. Ugly, deformed, misshapen.
In the adjacent cell, the Black Mage stirred. Dany looked over at him, stifling her wailing for a moment, and watched as he fruitlessly slammed himself into the bars. “It’s no use,” she said, shifting into the light and allowing him to glance upon her scaly visage, “The bonds are breakable, but… I don’t know how.” She clenched her hands in fury, and suddenly the scales began to glow a bright shade of orange. A chill ran through the remainder of her body as her hands heated up, and the metal melted, freeing her.
“…well, that’s one way,” she sighed. She set to work on Black Mage’s own bondage.
The Mage’s attacks wilted in the face of the Empire guards and their superior fighting prowess. Within a few quick blows, her bodyguard had been disabled and the white-armored troop turned their futuristic-looking weapons on Daenerys. Never one to be outwitted even when she was outgunned, the princess quickly lifted up her hands. “I surrender,” she said, taking a cautious step backward. Her eyes flitted down to the Mage, crumpled on the ground. Certainly she couldn’t just leave him—he’d saved her life. But she couldn’t just stand by and let these guards capture her this easily. She was a prize.
Her offer to relinquish herself to them worked exactly as she planned; the guards lowered their weapons, content to take her in without a fight. That had never been the khaleesi’s plan, though, and she quickly spun on her heel and sprinted off. Within seconds, she could feel the weight of her earlier fainting spell plaguing her, but this time, it wasn’t her own body that betrayed her.
A three-pronged projectile struck her in the back moments after she’d taken off running, and like a true fighter, she fell to the ground, spasming from the shockwaves pulsing throughout her body. Her vision darkened as the Empire’s soldiers approached her, until finally, it went black.
* * *
When her eyes flickered open, she wasn’t imprisoned. Rather, she seemed to be sitting in a rather comfortable chair, staring at a man in a finely-pressed gray uniform, hands folded behind his back. He stood against a railing a few meters away from her, his eyes tracing her figure with a strange sense of interest. Daenerys immediately felt herself being violated, and so she very quickly pulled herself together, straightening her stance and crossing her legs.
Surprisingly enough, they hadn’t even bound her. Her hands remained her own, and if she wanted, she could’ve gotten up and walked out of the room, provided the only other occupant let her. As it were, she decided to not take that chance. She would admit that her spitfire personality got the best of her.
“Release me at once,” she demanded, determined to prove to the man that she was the authority here. Perhaps she was free to walk out, but she wanted to make it clear that he had no right to bring her here in the first place. She had more titles attached to her name than he could probably have ever dreamed of. “And tell me where my companion is,” she tacked on, remembering all of a sudden the Black Mage. She would ensure that the boy accompanied her wherever she went, no matter how reckless he may have been; he had only been trying to protect her, after all.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” the man’s slimy voice oozed, and Dany let out an obviously-annoyed sigh, “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Captain Renalds, one of the men in charge of the Empire’s outpost in Carrefore.”
This man didn’t seem to realize that she still had little idea what the fuck the “Empire” even was. At this point, they were nothing more than a bunch of boringly-dressed soldiers with interesting firepower to Daenerys. Well, that, and obviously enemies. The princess tried to stand, but found herself having a bit more trouble than usual—still feeling the effects of the shockwaves, she supposed. Hmph. They would pay for their insolence.
“I really don’t care who you are,” the rightful queen spat back, her words laced with venom, “All I want is to know what you want with me.”
“Well, Miss Targaryen,” Renalds tilted his head to one side, “you see, we here in the Empire take a special interest in Primes such as yourself. There are considerably less of you than there are of me—secondaries, if you will—and so when we stumble upon one, especially one with as much spirit as you and your companion, we like to… observe your behavior for a while.”
“I am not your lab rat,” Daenerys growled, marching toward him.
“No, no, no,” Renalds smirked, “At least… not yet.” The khaleesi quirked an eyebrow, and Renalds revealed one of his hands, holding a long, intimidating-looking syringe. With one swift motion, the captain jammed it in her arm, and her eyes went wide. “We needed you conscious in order to be able to properly complete the experiment,” he explained, “and someone told me you like dragons, hm?”
“I… I am the Moth… I am the Mother of Dragons,” Dany stammered through gritted teeth as she clawed for the syringe. Renalds nodded, condescension painting his expression.
“Yes, when my people were taking a look at you while you slept, they found tidbits of dragon DNA on your skin and clothes,” he said. “We’ve been having some dragon issues ourselves here in the Omniverse, so… I decided to see how you’d react to being injected with some of their code.”
Dany coughed up blood. “Their… what?”
But she didn’t hear the answer. Her vision blurred over. Her hearing went fuzzy. And once again—for the third time since she’d been in this fucking place—she blacked out.
* * *
When she woke up again, she was in a prison cell. Leaned up against the wall, this time she couldn’t see anyone observing her in a creepy fashion like Captain Renalds had; she simply found herself alone, behind some metal bars.
A quick glance to the cell next to her revealed the status of her companion. Black Mage remained unconscious, lying shirtless and hatless on the ground. He looked… different than she had imagined him. Not altogether unattractive, but most definitely not what she had envisioned when she thought about what lay underneath that thick layer of robe and straw hat. She began to feel a wooziness taking over inside her skull, and pressed her palm to her forehead.
Ouch, she thought, the pain of her fingers touching her head strangely poignant. She glanced down at them. She was not prepared for what she saw.
Scales.
The cell was dark, true, but she could see just enough to note that emerald-green dragon scales covered her arm from the tips of her fingers, past the wrist restraints, to just below her elbow. From her elbow up, her alabaster skin remained until she reached her shoulder. Her shoulders, collarbone, and neck were also blanketed by the green scales, stopping just above her breasts; she reached up with a clawed hand and felt her face, noticing that just over half of it had been transformed into the skin of a dragon, and the other half remained perfectly pristine, just as it had been before being injected with the essence of dragon.
She took a deep breath, and a long, serpentine tongue rolled out of her mouth. She recoiled it, tried to scream and realized the metallic thing in her mouth muffled it. She bit down and felt her abnormally-large fangs crash into the metal thing, shattering it.
She felt tears begin to roll down her scaly cheek, and now that her voice had been freed, she had the loud sobs to accompany them.
Her white dress was ripped and torn where the scales had poked through; below her chest, no part of her had yet succumbed to the genetic infusion’s side-effects, but the princess had a feeling that perhaps, within a short amount of time, her entire body would look like that of one of her beloved pet’s. Ugly, deformed, misshapen.
In the adjacent cell, the Black Mage stirred. Dany looked over at him, stifling her wailing for a moment, and watched as he fruitlessly slammed himself into the bars. “It’s no use,” she said, shifting into the light and allowing him to glance upon her scaly visage, “The bonds are breakable, but… I don’t know how.” She clenched her hands in fury, and suddenly the scales began to glow a bright shade of orange. A chill ran through the remainder of her body as her hands heated up, and the metal melted, freeing her.
“…well, that’s one way,” she sighed. She set to work on Black Mage’s own bondage.