Red Dragon

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Event Horizon

After relieving some... tension and washing up, he spent the rest of the day down in The Chalice. Beatrice was surprised to see him, but not upset. In fact, she seemed almost thrilled if not ecstatic. Wesley wasn’t there that day, meaning she needed to break away so often to check the store physically. Turned out she had camera feed on her phone. She was always back in ten minutes, though, and even brought him a new drink or a fresh snack.

He managed to test the rest of the decks for the day, and he was more than cooled after that ridiculously easy test once he needed to leave for the night. Though parting was sorrow, it was dour as he remembered who was waiting for him at home... It was a good thing he wasn’t expected in class the next day, for he would have been in a worse state than Monday. As was his punishment for “denying” her the weekend before... He was awoke by the knocking at the door, not even two hours after his “punishment”. He could hear over the knock the soft sizzling of food in the kitchen, and, as the rest of his senses caught up, could taste it, too. And many other things.

The knocking only grew, though, and he needed to be somewhat alive. He was a man, after all, not some sniveling little boy... and the sooner he woke the faster he could be back down in The Chalice again. He grabbed a pair of slacks out of the chest of drawers, thankful the fairies were brazen and cleaned as he dozed. If he didn’t, he would have slid when he first stood, the carpet so saturated from last night’s “release”. His balls ached being reminded of it, of the four rings around them, denying until they broke through –which any of those metal shards were, also, thankfully missing. After stepping on four of them, he was sure it was worse than Lego... He was in literal Hell. A white Hell after the last one broke, but Hell nonetheless.

But the knocks, the knocks! They called to him. He stumbled out into the living room. His head felt like it was in the clouds; he definitely needed a drink, needed food, more sleep over everything, but they could all wait if only to silence those- wonderful knockers. Bridget was once again on the other side, holding two cups of coffee.

“Well, hello,” Francis said, leaning on the door –rather leaning on it harder. He cleared his throat... and cocked his brow as her face lit up so bright. “What?”

She looked up and away while, somehow, still nodding down... where he saw that his pants were slung over his arm. And not on. He cursed and quickly pulled the on- a bit too fast, tearing a long stripe down the left.

“Oh, Goddammit-” He grumbled, making Bridget exclaim.

“Don’t take the lord’s name in vain,” she declared, but sighed. “I’m sorry. Part of my upbringing.”

“It’s fine. Just... give me that.” He snatched one of the cups from her hand and guzzled it. It was a different blend, a morning roast. No bells and whistles... save for that flowery aftertaste again. He gulped it all down though, his body more than thankful to take in the blessed brew. “Thank you. I am downright thirsty this morning.”

“So I saw... May I come in? After refilling your cup of cour-”

“Agh! What’s all the hubbub out here?” Nicole blurted, stepping out from the kitchen. “Ah thought ah heard someone knockin’.”

“She did. For, like, ever,” Francis grumbled, handing the mug back to Bridget.

“O-oh. I didn’t realize you had-” The witch began.

“Don’t. She’s my housekeeper and my nanny. There’s literally nothing going on between us aside her riding me fucking silly every other day she’s here.”

“But nothing between you?” Bridget sighed again, and bowed her head. “Nice to meet you, goblin. I am Bridget; I am one of the professors at-”

“Ah know who ya are, darling!” Nicole exclaimed, guffawing as she smacked Francis’s rump. “Eve keeps me up to date on all faculty at Vereor Nox.”

“Oh. You work for Eve, then.”

“Aye. That ah do. Owe her so much for pulling me out of Scotland. Name’s Nicole, by the way, since the wee barra was rude.”

“As I said, it’s nice to meet you. If you can wait a moment, I can make you a cup of coffee, as well-”

“That won’t be necessary. You know the lad has a coffee pot, dontcha?”

“I did, but I use a special blend... I’ll be back after preparing you a new cup, Francis.”

She tilted her head, winked at him, then skipped off. Francis stood there, watching after... actually paying attention to her rump this time. He couldn’t see the front TOO well from this angle, but... the way those black stockings hugged her legs, the way it melted into her cream skirt that day, and how it creased around that bounding, heart-shaped, perfect pillow of an a-

“Ye know, laddie, ya could probably do more than eye-fuck her,” Nicole butted in, smacking his rear again. She tittered, looking after as well, and sighed. “Lilith really outdone herself with her. Went back a few trials, but the students much prefer the doting, motherly lass over the ‘hip’ div... Laddie? Are ye listenin’? Francis? Oi!”

“What!” He bellowed, wincing as he bent over almost in two. Tears beaded in his eyes as she clawed at his ears, pulling him down to her height. She looked him in the eyes for what felt an eternity from that fine... fine... Irish booty... but sighed, pinching her brow. He straightened, rubbing his poor ears, and glared down at her, repeating what he said.

“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all... Well? Are ye gonna stand there the entire time? Food is getting cold.”

His stomach couldn’t argue with that, though his mind tried. The gut always wins, though, so he lumbered into the kitchen, plopped down at the table, and tore into waffles and fried chicken set before him. Interestingly enough, the first time he had chicken and waffles was not from the usual stereotype. Instead, the local fast food joint was offering a chicken biscuit and he was having one helluva phase of eating their pancake sandwiches. Bought one of each, put them together, and fell in love ever since. Though not technically waffles, it held true when he made it for the crew in southern Pennsylvania, though he did get chewed out for making a ‘racist meal’ for his bros... Regardless, he tore through at least three chickens and a whole henhouse of eggs in the waffles he devoured in the time Bridget returned. With more of that coffee in-hand. Nicole was cleaning the pots and pans, humming away.

She smiled at him in the archway of the kitchen, started towards him- and gasped as Nicole stepped off her footstool, splashing the cup of coffee on the witch.

“Oh my gosh,” Bridget exclaimed, looking at the stain on her dress down to the goblin beside. “Are you okay? I’m sorry. I should have said something before-”

“Ahm quite alright, missy,” Nicole muttered, and tugged on Bridget’s dress. “What about you? Ye look like you had quite the bath in it... What’s that mixture, by the way?”

“It’s one of my special blends. I’m in a coffee and tea club, which the colder months are more coffee-oriented and-”

“Aye, aye... but what is it? I smell the robust bean, as well as a touch of cacao... but what of the other? I can smell rose, violet, and h-”

“Those are my special blend. It adds a bit of... It gives tidings of Spring.” She whined, and gave Francis a sad smile. “I’m sorry... I’ll go get a fresh one-”

“That’s not necessary,” the drachan said, and motioned to the seat across. “Have a seat finally. Quit worrying about me. As Nicole spoke for me, I have a coffee pot here-”

“And it brews it up right quick,” Nicole blurted, and pushed a cup of coffee into his hand. Barely a minute passed and she did the same to Bridget. A bit too forceful. It didn’t splash on her, but it threatened to as it swirled and leaped out of the cup, splashing back down. The goblin huffed, and looked at the carnage before the drachen. “Well, missy, how much ye think ya going ta eat?”

“Oh. No offense, but I’m not able to eat in the morning-”

“No offense meant. Just wanted to make sure... Once I get this put away, can ye handle wiping the table and counter off, wee barra?”

“I think I’ll manage.”

“Good. Good. Then ah will finally get some shut eye... Well? Don’t be quiet on my part. Go ahead.”

Though she gave her blessing, neither Francis nor Bridget could find a topic to talk about while the green blur zipped around the kitchen. Even when they did start, she would butt in and give her two cents on it. It wasn’t until she retired that they were able to truly talk, and, after Francis explained the goblin’s schedule, the witch had to leave anyways. He saw her out the door, but didn’t do much more than that. He already had a nice show earlier, and he needed to clean the kitchen.

“Don’t worry, fairies. I’m a man of my word,” he muttered, and cleaned. Without fire. The rest of the day, once again, was spent down in the card shop. Thursday was a repeat save for an actual conversation with Bridget, then down in the card store. Wesley was finally back, so they enjoyed game after game with no interruptions. For some reason, though he expected her, Desiree never showed her face. Then again, the other students would be preparing for their tests; if he had his on Monday, then they would be in review and testing on both Friday and Saturday. Maybe he’ll see her Saturday evening... and, maybe at the same time, he’ll see Ezra and Dixie again. Maybe the orc will sprout wings and fly, too.

What was really irking him, though, was the fact Cassidy hadn’t come to see him once... One would think after such a date she would have been trying to be all on him, but no. Not a single feather to be seen –aside Beatrice’s, of course. Maybe she was playing hard-to-get? If that were the case, she might as well have been baiting a shark with a worm. There were plenty of others just gnashing at the bits to get to him.

Including a certain Fang.

Friday morning, after another... diplomatic conversation with Nicole, he wormed out of bed, into the bathroom, cried in the bottom of the shower, then finally woke up. He groaned, standing- hissing as he cracked his head on the shower’s.

“What the hell?” He uttered, looking around. “How did I get here?”

… For his own sanity, he didn’t bother asking any further. All he wanted to do was put that night long behind him. How she found that Pear he will never truly know nor want to, and it lived up to the latter half of its name. The end of his rod was still ballooned out from it, looking more like a tulip or a lotus about to flourish, and it throbbed and screamed at him as he washed away the sins. He needed to do something about that goblin, but he couldn’t outright “do” something. She made sure of that.

“Nepotism is a fucking bitch,” he grumbled... and rested his head on the cool wall, letting the cooler water wash down his freshly-scarred back. But he could stay there too long. If the last few days were any indication, his favorite redheaded stalker would be there in, oh, five minutes. He finished scrubbing, stepped out... and saw a peculiar sight on the back of the bathroom door. It seemed so out of place, truly amiss for someone like Francis.

It was a garment back.

He lumbered over to it, his head cocked, hair tickling at his shoulder in between fits of raking at it with the towel in his clutches. At the top of the long, black bag there was a yellow post-it note, with fancy scrawl on it. Light, though, almost dainty, but its ends implicated something sinister, as if she was holding some grudge or resentment. Very much Tiny.

I assumed your measurements, but made them slightly larger. If anything, they’ll be baggy. Easily compensated with a full rolls on the legs and tucking in the shirt.

He blinked, and tossed the towel in the hamper, unzipping it at last-

“She. Cannot. Be fucking serious,” he said, and looked at the... at the monkey suit inside! It was a complete, white tuxedo. It had a blue vest for the inner, with a black shirt to accentuate it, as well as a bloody blue bowtie- and actual pants. He growled, looking at those white abominations. So straight, so rigid; the chafing... He at least tried it all on, and she was right. It was baggy. Just not enough in the right places. He growled, tugging it all off, and stowed it back in that body bag. “She’s in for a rude awakening Sunday-”

“Who is?” Desiree said, giggling as he yipped. It took him a moment to realize the bathroom door was still shut, and she was talking through it. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What are you talking about? You didn’t.”

“So do you normally yelp like a chihuahua?”

“Every guy does... What are you doing here?”

“It’s been a while since I saw that handsome mug of yours, so I decided to stop by... I usually see Bridget, so I thought it would be okay.”

“Is she there today?”

“No. It’s test day, so she went in early.”

I’m starting to notice a trend, he thought, and sighed.

“Well, that’s great and all, but I still haven’t forgotten how much a stalker snake you are.”

She giggled again, and the door cracked, looking in on him in his gray slacks and black shirt.

“Isn’t that what snakes do best?” She said, and “stepped” back as he exited. She was in an emerald-hued attire this morning, with matching make-up. She traded the golden bangles for silver ones, though, a nice touch to the overall. “Have you been to The Chalice lately?”

“Every damn day I can.”

She whined, and pushed a finger against his chest.

“And you didn’t invite me? You really should give me your number.”

“Already did.”


“Yeah.” He grabbed her hand, and ran a nail along her smooth palm. “Here it is again... and... done. Don’t lose it this time... If it’s not obvious I don’t have a phone.”

“What? Why not!”

“Because I can’t get a fucking job yet because the fucking head of that can authorize it.”

“... Okay? But why not?” She giggled, and pulled out her phone, pushing it in his hand. “Here... I’ll just sneak down to the store and buy me a new one, but we can format this one.”

“Why... why would you do that?”

“Again, why not? It’s the least I can do for my fiancee-”

“And there it is! Nope.”

He started to shove the phone back, but she refused, keeping it in his hands.

“It was only a tease, darling. A tease... I really don’t mind.”

“You would be fine with another person on your line... why?”

“It means nothing to me. And that way I can send you sexy nudes.”

She stuck out her tongue, tittering as she blushed, and finally took the phone again. She slithered out to the kitchen, where, once again, Nicole was humming away... Francis really didn’t want to go in there. Every part of him screamed to take his boxes and jump out the window... but... with someone else there, he would be fine. He should be fine- could be fine? The odds were not good enough... but... he was a man, and faced it head-on. Besides, he was getting food and a phone out of it. Not the best phone, but a phone.

Desiree set it up for him, sneaking bites of sausage in between while her tail teased at his. More than once he had to bat it away, keeping it from taking his food; she could play with his member all she wanted, but food was sacred. It took her no more than fifteen minutes, and he even got to see her dusky nips on her burgeoning chest. Made into his background, as well.

She giggled, handing him the device as she straightened her top, and her tongue slithered out, lapping at her cup of coffee.

“You’re all set,” she said, and winked. “Hope you enjoyed it.”

“Oh, I did. I did,” he said, admiring them still on the tiny phone. “But... a question.”


“Why do snake people have tits? Do they actually feed their young with them or-”

“Lamia do. Others in the Replion genus don’t. Naga, Lizan, Merfolk; they don’t have breasts. Or nipples.” She cooed, raising her arms, and gave him a luscious view of the underside of her chest. “Why are you complaining, though? Don’t you like them?”

“Hell yeah, but was simply curious.”

She tittered again- and yipped as Nicole closed the fridge a bit too hard.

“Sorry, lassie,” she said, and waggled a finger at her. “Though aren’t ye running late?”

“I know. I know... I’ll be texting you, Francis. Wish me luck for the test, okay?”

She winked at him, then slithered off, leaving him to gawk at his phone. Not at the picture but at the actual device. How far technology had come since he last held one... How much porn could it hold now? Was it in HD? Could he finally access his crypto again? Jones set him up one with forty coins before he left them, always said it would be “big bucks”, but Jones was always a weird one-

“Be careful with that one, wee barra,” Nicole said, yawning as she sat across. “And that item. Nothing is free.”

“I know,” he said, and cracked his knuckles as he stood. “Right. I’m heading down to The Chalice now-”

“Why not go somewhere else today? There’s an entire strip to peruse.”

“Because I have to give Bea my new number, too.”

The goblin chuckled, wagging her finger.

“Oh, ‘Bea’ is it now? You two are growing close... Regardless, Ah’ll see ye when ya get home.”

“IF I get home.”

“Don’t tempt me, laddie. Ah’ll come down and drag ya home, myself... Especially after seeing that suit on the back of the door.”

“You knew about it?”

“Knew? Ah let her in. Offered a cup of coffee. We talked a moment; sweet lass, though needs to learn to put her hair down... Ye doing her a favor, laddie.”

“Oh, I bet.”

But that was for future him to deal with. For him then, he simply wanted to go relax... In truth, the last few days have been the most chilled he had been in a long time. And they were being whisked away with such abandon. The theory of relativity was truly the greatest curse on mankind, though nowhere near as painful as Nicole’s Pear.

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