ThreeMoonback

Echelon sat quietly in his room on a day like any other, reading a book in private just to pass the time. It wasn’t long past noon, and he was figuring it would be another calm, quiet, average day by now– surely, the unusual never struck this late into the day– until he heard a loud crash somewhere outside his door, followed by a remarkably audible “Fuck!” said with the familiar voice of his father. Echelon, in a hurry to see what had happened, placed his book pages down on his bed rather than grab a bookmark and scurried out to the hallway, head turning to figure out what exactly was going on. Echelon immediately caught quite the sight as he looked toward the kitchen, spotting a somehow even smaller than usual version of his father sitting on the floor and wiping raw egg off of his snout. “Should’ve known, should’ve fucking known something would happen today, April Fools on Mezzo,” he grumbled in an oddly high-pitched voice as he got up on wobbly legs and began to pick eggshells off

This is an RP transcript I am submitting for the PPAU mini-event, not a writing piece! My responses (Varroa's) have been bolded, the rest do not count towards my word count for DS grading. -------------------------------------- Kraken: Typically, a place such as the Deep Glade did not concern a dragon Kraken. It was dark and spooky yes, but Kraken had darkvision. It held the most dangerous types of flora and fauna found on the Isle Mezzo, but Kraken was more than a match for the animals of the woods. There were tales of dragons getting lost in there and being stuck in a neverending maze, but hey! Kraken had survived that before. So when their Survival professor had assigned Kraken to try to find edible plants, mushrooms and medicines within the Deep Glade and bring back what they could find - a test for, if they were in a forest by themselves, they could sustain themselves - the SeaWing princess hadn't been too worried. After all, her group was with Princess Varroa of the HIveWings

Varroa spent a while just practicing her newfound song, alone. An hour passed, or maybe two, as she thoughtlessly passed time. Once she’d had enough for the time being, she took another look around her spacious room, wondering what was next— there was still time to spend in the day, though it was getting late. She turned her head back to her writing desk and— oh yeah! She had her unfinished letter from before still lying there. She supposed now was as good a time as any to keep working on it. She pulled it closer to her and leaned over to re-read what she’d already written. Dear Queen Bonsai, Hi again! I know last time you told me to write to you as Queen Bonsai now, It’s been a while, how are you? Not too busy, I hope? Baobab still treating you well and all? I’ve been wanting to come visit lately, but momma keeps saying you’re too busy for ‘a leisurely visit’, as she called it. I wanted to go to the Spring Jubilee with you this year, but when I came to visit I couldn’t find you

Varroa came to a landing on the pathway streets of an upper middle class residential area, looking around at the homes nearby. By now, she’d practically explored all of Bumblebee hive, and though she didn’t know the directions to every spot she’d been to by heart, she could remember the major ones. She looked for a certain honeycomb house, decorated a specific way on the exterior, knowing it would be nearby. When she found it, she determined the direction she was supposed to go, and bounded off down a side path, heading towards the middle of the level. Varroa passed easily through the residential district, only distracted slightly by the delicious smell emanating from a honey drop shop closer to the middle of the level. She certainly received plenty of glances from passing HiveWings as they tried to understand if their queen was shrunk down and walking nonchalantly through the streets, but she was not stopped, thanks to her lack of publicity. She moved too quickly down the pathways and

Varroa fixed her grip on her weapon once more before stepping forwards, taking her time, and lunging with one forearm towards her tutor. The elder dragoness blocked it with ease. “Again,” she told the princess. Varroa, used to this, did not hesitate, despite how she still struggled to hold her sword up. She stepped into position again, lunged, and was blocked. Once more, an “again” resounded from her tutor, and she repeated the process. This time, however, with just a slight movement from the other HiveWing, Varroa’s sword was wrenched from her talon, and fell to the ground with a clatter. Varroa, startled, jumped a bit as it fell near her other talons. She looked disappointedly towards her weapon on the ground, and after a moment’s respite, moved to scoop it up again. “Keep your grip tight; don’t let up for a moment, even in simple sparring like this,” she was instructed. Varroa sighed. At least she wasn’t berated for the fifty other things she most likely did wrong in that short

Varroa raced down the halls in a familiar direction, talons clacking loudly against the wooden floor. She passed further halls and many doors and drew the attention of multiple servants working nearby in the palace as she used up a mere fraction of her bubbling dragonet energy. She could already hear in her head the scolding she’d receive later— not from her mother, no, but surely at least one of her tutors— for running in the halls. Yet, practically every day, no matter how she was told not to, she could not be contained, and ran to anywhere she needed to get to whenever she felt like it. She was the princess, darn it, she’d do what she wanted! It didn’t take very long for her to reach her destination, of course, as her bedroom was close by to anywhere and everywhere her mother spent her day in the place, relatively speaking. Her bed chambers, the throne room, her private office of sorts, etc. She stood in front of a pair of extraordinarily large doors, made of wood just the same as