diatu | There totally isn't a dragon here [OPEN]

There totally isn't a dragon here [OPEN]

Who: Spyro, Sparx, and you!
Where: The Backwater or around the Diatu campus
When: August
What: Quest! Or general catch-all stuff
Warnings: Probably not

A - All that Glistens

Man, it was definitely a lot easier to fit in with the public as a human than a dragon. Not that Spyro was making any effort to mask his identity from those who already knew him by name. And while there were still plenty of places and stores in Anastara the form wouldn’t get him into, there wasn’t the worry of his kind’s reputation to constantly upkeep.

The Night Shift was great, just as incredibly accommodating for his tastes as he remembered despite the good ol’ rough and tumble atmosphere. But eventually, his wandering about in the city’s Third Ring brought him to The Backwater.

It's a natural place for anyone including Valhudor students to flock to test their performing chops apparently. The shapeshifted dragon would certainly keep that in mind as he poked his nose into a chat with one of the disgruntled staff waiting to start their shift.

”... More milk and eggs than we know what to do with! Any day now someone’s going to hand in an entire cow to cover their tab!”

“Or maybe a few sheep?” Spyro couldn’t help a grin at either the idea of a decent shank of mutton or sheep tossing, but regardless his dragonfly partner was just as quick to bump him on the noggin. “Hey!”

”Oh I hope they find that-” A very explicit insult. “-who caused this mess!” A different stranger cut in. ”All of my tips were in butter and goat cheese last night!”

Spyro put up a cl- hand to his chin in thought. The problem didn’t sound too hard to solve. Rogue wizards? Nothing his original dragon form couldn’t handle! “Huh… well maybe I’ll do it!”

The two coworkers peered down at him in disbelief, but then scoffed. One of them muttered a bit of insincere good luck to him at the task before they both left to reluctantly walk into the tavern for work, but that wasn’t going to budge Spyro’s confidence. The dragon-turned-human merely turned away from the entrance and shifted his gaze toward the insect hovering next to him.

“Well Sparx, I guess the first thing we gotta do is figure out how to find our wizard!”

B - Changing Room

But regardless of his noble quest being up on the task board, there’s still classes to take, notes to study, and magic to practice. In the mornings is a human walking out from Suite 132, while in the evenings it’s everyone’s favorite purple dragon.

Interesting.

Wildcard!
Got something else in mind? Come at me!

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Tenn had heard some odd rumors at Melody's regarding a new payment system at the Backwater. He didn't believe them at first. But someone of good repute did ask if he knew anything as a wizard. Bewildered, Tenn admitted he didn't... but he could look into it.

And so he went to the Backwater, picking up immediately that something was very cheesy. And dairy. So it wasn't a joke... well, it was, but a terrible one, as he watched a patron hand over a chicken across the bar, the bird's flailing spilling glasses and getting feathers in everyone's faces.

Tenn covered his mouth and looked away, hoping his heavy cloak disguised his failure to keep from laughing.

Once he had himself under control, the Valhudor student poked around the tavern a bit to make sure there were no other fowl spells. But then, standing outside in the fresh air, Tenn heaved a great sigh.

"What a mess...."

"Tell me about it!" Spyro piped up while racing up to the familiar face. "Hey, Tenn! It's been a while!"

Anyone who wagered a few bottles of milk on the 'dragon' forgetting himself again just won. Despite using his mirror to leave some lingering similarities to his normal form, Spyro isn't quite used to being just some kid (benefits to it aside). ~~And he's overdue for a larger personal wardrobe.~~

Being called out to by name wasn't that unusual, it came with being a celebrity. But Tenn immediately recognized the boy from classes as another Valhudor student. (He was still learning the new faces, but this kid had a distinct look.)

"Hm, we haven’t had much chance to talk, have we?" Such was the student life, especially in Valhudor. Tenn nodded to the unfortunate tavern, getting right down to professional business as he was wont. "Do you come here often? I was wondering when this started, exactly."

Spyro shook his head. "My usual spot is the Night Shift, for my custom order frappuccino."

The subtle idea that maybe the other doesn't recognize him flies over his... hornless head. "But now that I can be like this without anyone blinking an eye..." He smirked, though Sparx did choose this moment to buzz a reminder at him. "Anyway, I was thinking of asking around at the docks."

He has another friend among them to catch up with, who might know something. Somewhere...

That particular combination of facts stirred Tenn's memories, and he stepped closer to scrutinize the boy. Were it not for the body-swapping spell last winter, it wouldn't even have occurred to him... but... he hadn't seen Spyro in morning classes lately. And he had found that odd, as the little dragon was normally diligent in his studies. Facts fell into place, and Tenn ventured to ask.

"... Spyro, did you transform again?"

"You didn't know it was me?" Spyro asked, tilting his head off-kilter in surprise. But then he paused, not particularly upset about it.

"Huh. Looking like everyone else does work like a charm to blend in!"

Tenn both shook his head and hid a smile behind one hand. It was amazing enough seeing people transformed behind makeup, but this was on another level.

"I'm glad." He meant it; he did worry about the little dragon. But with this... yes, investigating should be much easier.

"If you do go to the docks, try to find out the exact date and time this started. That may give us some indication of whether the culprit is a student at the local academies." Because it seemed like a student prank... but Tenn wasn't willing to bet on that just yet. He added under his breath. "Also... around that time, ask if there was anyone humiliated at the tavern."

Tenn was from the entertainment industry; petty grudges were a thing.

The Backwater itself is, perhaps not surprisingly, less busy than normal. Not less crowded, but certainly less musical, as the normal notes of song and instrument are replaced by clucking chickens, oinking pigs, and one plaintive cow that keeps trying to graze on the wainscotting. All of which have the glow of magic about them, for one willing to look, though what sort may take a greater effort to piece together.

"It started last Open Stage Night," the barkeep mutters, all the while polishing eggs because the mugs are all full of them. "And it's gotten worse since. I'll bet it's one of your kind who got booed off, we had half a dozen take the usual vegetables to the face! Really ought to consider not providing those, but it's a huge part of the appeal..."

Down by the docks, a man who looks like he ought to be drunk, and isn't, sits on a coil of rope and pats down his pockets with the air of one who's done this a hundred times without success. "Don't s'pose you have an egg I could buy?" he asks as Spyro approaches.

Tenn is not going to comment on that. The business deserves to take a hit if they are going to encourage humiliating performers. Though this is an extreme case of it. The spell on the animals is something he’d rather tackle with help, so Tenn takes another approach for now.

"I see. Might there be a list of those who performed on last Open Stage Night that I could see?"

If the barkeep seems hesitant, Tenn turns on the ~~Lv. 50 Fame~~ idol charm. "It is troublesome if one of my classmates acts out, you know? Performing here will be difficult if this place continues to turn into a barn."

"Nope, no eggs on me," Spyro replied. Not this time certainly. His dragonfly 'familiar' buzzed something in the kid's ear, which made him frown at first before nodding. "But I've heard that curse takes anything from any farm animal."

With a simple flourish of his fingers, Spyro called on that silly bit of magic to produce a sea salt ice cream pop from.

"Do you think ice cream counts?" he asked before sticking the treat in his mouth. "No money needed, just info on whoever swore revenge on the place."

The only other product he has to offer is spitting up perfectly whole slices of bacon, but even the shapeshifted dragon doesn't want to attempt it in this form, let alone walk around with the knowledge of someone else having consumed it.

This kid sure is judgey for a person who attends a school run by that Birony lady. He's heard stories, and lots of them!

"I get ya," he says, waving a chicken to fend off that charm assault. It works, because being charmed is difficult when you are waving a chicken. "But we only know the ones folks like. No one cares who's bad, ya know? But maybe someone here'll remember the look of one of the bad ones."

"Ugh," says the dock worker, who has never really gotten the appeal of sea salt ice cream. He's a mint chocolate chip man himself, and will swear not only by the flavor, but by the texture as well! The crunch of chips against the smoothness of the ice cream, that's heaven.

But he also really, really wants an ale. "Can't hurt to try. Not sure I can help you, though. "There's always a guy or two who storms off, vowing revenge on the folks who didn't 'preciate his singing quite as much as he'd like. Most of 'em are all talk. The rest just come back in disguise and try again."

What a fowl diversion! But possibly useful for the future. He'll remember that.

It’s unfortunate they don't keep a sign-in list, but Tenn can understand the reasoning behind it. If performers are putting themselves at risk of vegetables to the face, he can sympathize with the reluctance. As it sounds like there are many of those on a regular basis, he’ll need to find someone who comes here fairly often and has a good memory for voices.

"In that case, could you point me to someone who comes here for open nights regularly?"

(But if Barkeep NPC has run out of dialogue, assume Tenn takes a seat in a central location and listens for any snatches of relevant conversation to get a feel for who might be open to talking. And he'd keep a look out for anyone he might know from Melody's, since that’s where he does most of his related socializing.)

As someone with a sweeter tooth than for ice cream that isn't based entirely around salt, Spyro would agree. He conjures a new one and simply hands that over. The guy can figure out how to keep it from melting too much, surely.

"Funny, you'd think they'd stand out... but thanks anyway," he said.

(Spyro is going to keep walking about, questioning more nearby folks, stopping at maybe a handful or so. Who knew a silly power would come in handy for the more unexpected chance of a bribe in the world.)

No one seems to quite remember one specific face or being who they could pin the troubles on, but a pattern soon begins to emerge: a red-robed man, slightly portly, by the name of Harrison or Garrison or Gary's Son or somesuch. He'd been a vociferous complainant, when his efforts to sing a Maladrine composition had fallen flatter than his voice in said efforts. No definitive proof, but sometimes you go with the lead you have, yes?

A few helpful souls immediately crowd Tenn, and soon enough engage in a conversation he can easily steer towards the open night performers and the worst of the worst. They're eager to tell more than a few tales, all of which Tenn can remember and only one of which may prove relevant in the long run once he meets up with his partner: a wizard named Gary Hartson, who fancies himself a singer and comports himself as an oaf at best. A lot of people vow to get them all, the patrons relate, but he had that particularly wild look of a man who just might consider it.

When Spyro returns to the Backwater, Tenn is standing off to side near the bar, observing a cow nibbling at the wainscotting. (He gently directs her head away and offers some reassuring pets.) Now that he has his answer about who to keep an eye out for, there’s still the issue of that spell. Sense Magic didn’t get him as far as he would’ve liked, but maybe with another wizard’s help, he can glean more from it?

He waves Spyro over as soon as he catches sight of him. "Well, how did it go?"

"Some guy wearing red robes, Harry or Garrison or a son of something," Spyro put forward. "Really likes... uh... 'Maladrine' compositions."

To that, Sparx nodded in confirmation.

"That sounds like the Gary Hartson I heard stories of." Tenn mused. Excellent, this meant they had a lead. "Though, the Maladrine detail is new."

He returned his attention to patting the cow's nose; it was good that they wouldn't have to worry about Spyro's form scaring her while investigating.

"We'll look into that later. First, these animals have a spell attached to them." Tenn frowned. "I wasn’t able to learn much from Sense Magic. But if it’s allowing the animals to take the place of coins, I wonder if it’s some sort of Thaumaturgy, or perhaps related to Modification." Neither class of which he’d ever taken, alas. But aside from seeing Spyro in Fantastics and Discovery, he wasn’t sure which classes the little dragon had been enrolled in.

"You saying we should take a shot at breaking it?" Spyro asked, looking entirely undeterred about the idea. "Because I have some experience with that Thaumaturgy stuff."

Enough that he sure as heck doesn't see any diagrams left scribbled anywhere. Unless they were hidden in a very well-placed spot the staff didn't already find by now.

"I was thinking that if we identify the magic, it will be easier to find a solution."

But Tenn gave Spyro an intrigued look; he hadn't considered trying to break the spell themselves. It was out of his area of expertise, since he only knew a few basic techniques.

"But if you could break it, that would save time." Though, Tenn had to wonder about the consequences of such an action.

"What's the worst that could happen if I gave it a shot, raise the prices?" Spyro replied, certainly looking confident about his chances.

Sparx chose this moment to butt in, even if the sounds he buzzed at his ear were only intelligible to Spyro and sounded more like someone speaking through a kazoo for anyone else.

But the human waved the bug off without indirectly translating and turned his attention back to Tenn. "Basically, I don't see why we can't make Fantastics and Thaumaturgy go together."

Tenn gave a smirk; the livestock may be worth more as it is, actually. But he lowered his voice for the next observation. "No. I was thinking more along the lines of the business getting off without consequences. And it might bring the culprit back here if he finds his spell has been tampered with."

Tenn tilted his head at them; that little exchange went over his head. "How? I specialize in musical illusions, you know." Also Discovery and Sundering... the latter of which he was definitely not trying here.

Spyro listened intently, but the idea of consequences from helping here as much as he could that he couldn't handle... doesn't dampen his confidence.

"The grumpy old fart said the factors were all about the right gesture, the right word, and following the giant textbook of spells..." Spyro simply began with a nonchalant wave of his hand.

"But where there's a will, there's a way to use our magic off the books! I just need my guitar and want my claws back first."

Tenn blinked, mildly startled, shooting a glance to the cow he was petting and then around the tavern at those few patrons still trying to enjoy themselves. He leveled a questioning look at the boy. “You want to come in here in your normal form? And perform?”

The Night Shift and some other taverns had come around to the little dragon, but the Backwater was unknown and upscale in comparison… though halfway a barn by now. The ruckus that might be created by a dragon coming in could do more harm than good, and Tenn looked genuinely concerned at the thought.

The boy peered in the same direction, at the cow. And he can internally concede that smaller animals tended to flee from a child-sized dragon anyway...

"I guess I could make do like this," Spyro said if a bit begrudgingly. "But anything I composed for homework won't be the same without that extra... 'twang' if you know what I mean..."

He might need some help picking a composition worth an audience and his idea though.

That sounded more reasonable. But though Tenn was intrigued by the suggestion of combining Fantastics and Thaumaturgy, it was too far out of his expertise to agree right away. Not without hearing more and seeing the spells for himself.

"It sounds like we should return to the academy for now. You can tell me about your plan there, in detail."

That was assuming that the spell Spyro had in mind that wouldn't entirely be improvised. Nevertheless, the boy nodded in agreement. Who knows if he would still plan and then attempt such a far-reaching feat within a single evening, but they also have a spiteful wizard that remains on the loose.

And so once they eventually return to the academy, Spyro has no qualms about leading Tenn along to his fire-proofed suite, not counting the scattered papers on the desk. There's a large mirror in one corner and a pair of guitars, one acoustic and the other seeminglya bonafide electric guitar, in another part of the room.

"Don't mind the mess. I'll uh... get to it," Spyro said idly as he opened the desk drawer and started pulling out folders of sheet music.

Huh, an entire suite. How lucky. Tenn was used to having roommates by now, but he did miss the days when he had a whole house to himself. Valhudor’s dorms were less than pristine, so he could ignore the mess for the moment. (Anyway, he imagined cleaning up with claws was a challenge.)

His attention was quickly captured by the guitars, and he knelt to study them closely. The acoustic one didn't surprise him, but the electric one sure looked like something he could've found in Japan. But was anything here at Diatu normal?

"That's... where did you get an electric guitar? Does it work?"

"Remember when there was that demon in the fountain granting wishes in whatever ways it wanted to?" Spyro's expression turned slightly smug, but only slightly before he continued. "He promised me awesome music from it... after I got some help to fix it."

And then the boy, with a sizable stack of folders in hand, walked over to drop it onto the bed. Just gently enough that the papers wouldn't slip out and scatter everywhere.

"So it works! More like a bass guitar right now."

Tenn was reaching out to touch the electric guitar, but nothing else Spyro could’ve said would’ve made him yank his hand back faster. Were it his, he would've gotten rid of the instrument asap, as he’d disposed of the cursed make-up kit he’d found attacking another student around that time. (Tenn was overly cautious like that.) He cast an alarmed look back at Spyro, but bit back further comment. If he made a fuss over every cursed item he found in the school, he would never rest.

Tenn sighed, walking over to investigate the notes. "You should know I only took a basic Thaumaturgy class when I first arrived. You'll have to explain how it can tie into Fantastics. My professors haven't covered that."

You know how it is; Porsfin only grudgingly uses Discovery and Trent is wrapped up in the music itself.

"It's not going to bite you," the boy merely replies at first toward the look on Tenn's face. Though he doesn't stop there and picks up the 'bass' guitar as his instrument of choice. And if the other was expecting heavily detailed and laid out spellwork, this was going to be the best anyone gets thus far from a young and easily bored mind.

"But same here," Spyro said as if such a line would immediately inspire more confidence. "I figure though that with the right song..."

From one of the pages of sheet music, the kid started to strum on the demon guitar for a few moments, but not the entire piece.

"Most of these I wrote based on parts from my daring adventures. And I've tangled with plenty of wizards, sorcerers, warlocks..." He idly waved his hand. "So whichever tune I present keeps me focused on channeling the whole curse-breaking thing, then magic does the rest."

.... And of course, the music has to be GOOD.

Edited 2021-10-18 01:52 (UTC)

Not very reassuring indeed. But giving benefit of the doubt - Spyro does seem the sort to engage in those battles - Tenn tries to parse that together.

"You want to use music to help channel Thaumaturgy, and as a diversion?"

It's not a bad idea... if people hear music, they'll be on the lookout for illusions, not actual spells. It's a good cover to work at unraveling magic. Tenn listens attentively; the guitar isn't doing anything suspicious, and the music is appropriate and flexible. It shouldn't attract tomatoes at least (not that Tenn thinks the Backwater will be providing those to patrons as readily in the future.)

"It's an upbeat song for the tavern. You can work the command words of the spell into the performance. But what are you planning on using as your focus?"

Spyro can't say he completely thought of things to that degree, as much as the plan was clearly starting to come together. His way to deal with magic was always brute force. The boy just brightened at the 'suggestion' and then thought for a moment as he went back to the papers.

"Maybe... since we have a curse and a suspect..." He pulled out two different yet clearly related pieces. "So now it's a story. Kick the bad guy's butt, break a curse along the way, and then roll in the hard-earned treasure."

Yes, Tenn could tell by now the dragon boy was flying by the new seat of his pants. Fortunately, he knew enough artists like that to be patient. But it would be best to set down a solid plan.

“It would be good to figure out in advance how long you need your performance to be. Some flexibility is always desirable, but I’m sure the Backwater will ask for an estimate. Also, chose pieces you are confident playing if you plan on casting at the same time. Playing these in a set order rather than creating a medley would be easier.”

"I think I see what you mean," Spyro just answers before he grabs a notebook and old textbook for Thaumaturgy.

And thus, while the humanized dragon isn't about to shoehorn lyrics into his chosen pieces, working the basic counterspell words into his recounted tale about his very first major adversary should be no sweat.

"And what are you gonna do?" he then asked. "I wouldn't mind some extra illusions from a backing track to sell our front."

There's silence for a moment as Tenn hadn't planned on going that far; he originally went to the Backwater to see what all the fuss was about, and then had intended to report back to Melody's. It wasn't his job to free the tavern from its curse.

But, much less did he like the idea of Spyro going in without any backup at all.

“I could provide Fantastics, influence the way your performance sounded, or create a cover. I wouldn’t even have to be on stage with you.” You’d be surprised what he can do just sitting at a table and tapping on a glass. “But you will have to tell me exactly. I don’t usually improvise.”

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

There totally isn't a dragon here [OPEN]

A - I am not sure Tenn has seen him in human form? so surprise him!

a surprise indeed

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> talk to barkeep

> dock worker

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Back at the Backwater

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That’s a fun OST to write to!

lots of good iconic tracks yeah!

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