Post by angel624 on May 1, 2010 0:49:05 GMT -5
FINALLY. I've been wanting to write a fanfic about Rexy and Pirateperch for awhile, and I'm so glad I now have the time to do so. ^^
I was listening to Savin' Me today, and thought it kinda fit Rexy. In a way. And in this, Rexy is Stoick's dragon instead of Snotlout's. Why? For one thing, I wanted Fireworm in here. For another, at the back of my HTTYD coloring book is a picture of Stoick riding a Monstrous Nightmare.
And I'm trying to write in Cressida Cowell's style...dunno if its working, though...
~~~
This existence is horrible.
Those were the thoughts that echoed in the young Monstrous Nightmare’s mind (roughly translated into human thoughts, of course) as he stood before Big Boobied Bertha, chief of the Bog Burglars. The three and a half-horned Nightmare’s jaws were tied up, and he was doused head-to-tail with water. Even though he was tied up and wet and helpless and humiliated, he held his head up; his dignity would not, could not, be squelched.
Big Boobied Bertha was shaking with rage. “How….dare…you?!” she snarled, “you’ve destroyed our entire food storage supply, burned down half of the buildings, and injured the son of chief of the Hairy Hooligans AND his dragon! That is a sign of GREAT DISRESPECT, Nightmare!”
The warrior princess, Camicazi, and her Grapple Grounder, Stormfly, both hissed at the Nightmare; he flinched at their action. It had been a mistake, why couldn’t they see that? He simply didn’t know…!
“I’ll run him through!” Camicazi was shouting, her sword drawn and pointed towards his heart. “He’s dishonored the ENTIRE VILLAGE, as well as the CHIEF of the HOOLIGANS! And his son and son’s dragon, SAVIORS OF US ALL! This dragon deserves DEATH.”
Stormfly spat at him, agreeing with what her pet Viking had said. “Traitor!” she snarled in Dragonese, “Destroyer! Servant of the Red Death!”
The cheers of the other Bog Burgars sounded more like the Red Death’s killing snarl to the Nightmare. He still held his head high. He would die with dignity.
“I’d rather you didn’t,” came the shy, somewhat squeaky, voice. It was the Hooligan boy he had accidentally tackled, gashing open his side; his dragon, the pitch black Night Fury, one leg wrapped in bandages, glared angrily at the Nightmare as the lad spoke. “He’s really a magnificent specimen. I’d rather try and train him.”
“TRAIN?!” yelled the Hooligan Chief, “The dragon that almost killed you?! Are you mad?!”
The son shrugged. “Toothless almost killed me a couple times. Look how he turned out.”
The Night Fury snorted with pride. The Nightmare hissed in disdain.
“He’s obviously been giving you all trouble,” the son continued, addressing Big Boobied Bertha. “We’ll take him back after the negotiations are complete, and make him a model citizen.” He turned back to the Hooligan Chief. “You said you wanted a Nightmare, right? I’ll train him for you!”
The Hooligan Chief shook his head furiously. “I refuse. This Nightmare has no sense of goodness in him! He’s more vicious than any other Nightmare I’ve seen in my life!”
I’m not bad, the Nightmare thought, I just…don’t know…!
“There’s no such thing as a bad dragon,” the son said, “They’re only misguided. They just need someone to show them the way.”
The argument continued, long and tense. The Nightmare never moved; Toothless and Stormfly never stopped glaring at him; the Vikings argued for his execution while the son pleaded for his salvation.
The verdict was surprising. Big Boobied Bertha AGREED to the son’s plea! “He’ll go back with you,” she said, “and you’re going to train him. Make him good. If ever we ride to war, I want to fight beside a leader with a powerful steed…NOT a vicious monster.”
The Nightmare never flinched as he was lead away. His heart pounded with excitement. I’M ALIVE. I’M ALIVE. I’M ALIVE.
The son patted his nose. “Rexnon Haddock,” he said, “welcome to the family.”
It took the Nightmare a moment to realize he had been named.
I was listening to Savin' Me today, and thought it kinda fit Rexy. In a way. And in this, Rexy is Stoick's dragon instead of Snotlout's. Why? For one thing, I wanted Fireworm in here. For another, at the back of my HTTYD coloring book is a picture of Stoick riding a Monstrous Nightmare.
And I'm trying to write in Cressida Cowell's style...dunno if its working, though...
~~~
This existence is horrible.
Those were the thoughts that echoed in the young Monstrous Nightmare’s mind (roughly translated into human thoughts, of course) as he stood before Big Boobied Bertha, chief of the Bog Burglars. The three and a half-horned Nightmare’s jaws were tied up, and he was doused head-to-tail with water. Even though he was tied up and wet and helpless and humiliated, he held his head up; his dignity would not, could not, be squelched.
Big Boobied Bertha was shaking with rage. “How….dare…you?!” she snarled, “you’ve destroyed our entire food storage supply, burned down half of the buildings, and injured the son of chief of the Hairy Hooligans AND his dragon! That is a sign of GREAT DISRESPECT, Nightmare!”
The warrior princess, Camicazi, and her Grapple Grounder, Stormfly, both hissed at the Nightmare; he flinched at their action. It had been a mistake, why couldn’t they see that? He simply didn’t know…!
“I’ll run him through!” Camicazi was shouting, her sword drawn and pointed towards his heart. “He’s dishonored the ENTIRE VILLAGE, as well as the CHIEF of the HOOLIGANS! And his son and son’s dragon, SAVIORS OF US ALL! This dragon deserves DEATH.”
Stormfly spat at him, agreeing with what her pet Viking had said. “Traitor!” she snarled in Dragonese, “Destroyer! Servant of the Red Death!”
The cheers of the other Bog Burgars sounded more like the Red Death’s killing snarl to the Nightmare. He still held his head high. He would die with dignity.
“I’d rather you didn’t,” came the shy, somewhat squeaky, voice. It was the Hooligan boy he had accidentally tackled, gashing open his side; his dragon, the pitch black Night Fury, one leg wrapped in bandages, glared angrily at the Nightmare as the lad spoke. “He’s really a magnificent specimen. I’d rather try and train him.”
“TRAIN?!” yelled the Hooligan Chief, “The dragon that almost killed you?! Are you mad?!”
The son shrugged. “Toothless almost killed me a couple times. Look how he turned out.”
The Night Fury snorted with pride. The Nightmare hissed in disdain.
“He’s obviously been giving you all trouble,” the son continued, addressing Big Boobied Bertha. “We’ll take him back after the negotiations are complete, and make him a model citizen.” He turned back to the Hooligan Chief. “You said you wanted a Nightmare, right? I’ll train him for you!”
The Hooligan Chief shook his head furiously. “I refuse. This Nightmare has no sense of goodness in him! He’s more vicious than any other Nightmare I’ve seen in my life!”
I’m not bad, the Nightmare thought, I just…don’t know…!
“There’s no such thing as a bad dragon,” the son said, “They’re only misguided. They just need someone to show them the way.”
The argument continued, long and tense. The Nightmare never moved; Toothless and Stormfly never stopped glaring at him; the Vikings argued for his execution while the son pleaded for his salvation.
The verdict was surprising. Big Boobied Bertha AGREED to the son’s plea! “He’ll go back with you,” she said, “and you’re going to train him. Make him good. If ever we ride to war, I want to fight beside a leader with a powerful steed…NOT a vicious monster.”
The Nightmare never flinched as he was lead away. His heart pounded with excitement. I’M ALIVE. I’M ALIVE. I’M ALIVE.
The son patted his nose. “Rexnon Haddock,” he said, “welcome to the family.”
It took the Nightmare a moment to realize he had been named.
