nysalogs | OPEN: Questing is more fun with friends!

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OPEN: Questing is more fun with friends!

Who: Krieg (

fuelthefire) & YOU
What: Mercenary work
When: All February long
Where: Olympia-ish; keeping it as vague as possible for maximum participation potential
Warning(s): It's Krieg, so unsettling/violent dialogue and also sometimes just plain ol' violence
The Premise: Your character has either intentionally joined Krieg on his various mercenary quests for the various off-screen NPCs I have made up OR they're in the general vicinity of Krieg performing his various mercenary quests and are now witnessing his questing. Getting characters to formally meet ICly is kind of a chore. Dumping them into a thread together with all the introductions and setup already handwaved is way more fun!

I.) A diamond in the rough
OR A FLOWER, SURROUNDED BY SHRAPNEL AND STUFF

He's done flower picking fetch-quests before. That's not the weird part of this particular scenario. The weird part is, no one's asked him to also find nudie mags.

Which is probably good, because unlike on Pandora, there seems to be a dearth of nudie mags on this world. Not that Krieg cares. He's not particularly interested in looking at naked bodies. But it would be difficult to complete a fetch quest for an item that didn't exist.

Anyway, the sun is shining, the sky is clear, there's a gentle breeze, and there's a massive, shirtless man wading through a waist-high field of grass, gathering flowers with his big, clumsy hands. Perhaps you've teamed up with him to assist in this very important mission. Perhaps you're an innocent and/or confused bystander. In either instance, if you're close enough to him, you might hear him beginning to mutter:

"Why aren't my fingers in someone's eye sockets right now...Why aren't my fingers in someone's eye sockets right now? Why aren't my fingers in someone's eye sockets right now??" Each repetition of the phrase is a little louder and a little more forceful than the one before.

Look, just because he's good at fetch quests doesn't mean he enjoys them.

II.) Put out the fire in my belly
I FEEL A DEEP, DARK WARMTH!

Krieg's an excellent baby dragon wrangler - he did bicep curls with a bunch of baby dragons all at once at the dragon cafe that one time. So tracking down this fancy rich lady's missing pet dragon and returning it to her sounds like a total breeze.

The first part was easy, anyway.

Finding the dragon hadn't been particularly challenging. It was a slovenly creature, and overweight, and dolled up in a big, pink neck bow and soft pink nail polish. A soft boy, its owner had insisted. I'm positive he's scared out of his wits! Please find him as quickly as you can!

The dragon is, indeed, a soft boy, judging by the rolls of fat crowding its frame. But several days of freedom have inspired a certain gleam in its eye. Its neck ribbon is ragged and torn, and its nail polish chipped. It's seen some shit, and gotten a taste for freedom, and it's a lot faster and more nimble than any creature with such short legs and such a rotund belly has any right to be.

Krieg has it cornered, in a manner of speaking, up a tall, old tree that resembles an oak. It didn't climb very high - even with its surprising agility, it's still a fatass, and gravity is not its friend. It's just out of Krieg's impressive reach, though, stretched out toward the end of a long, thick branch that is dipping more than a little bit under its weight.

It's a toss-up between climbing up after the stupid fat thing or throwing his axe at it until he knocks it out of the tree.

...He probably shouldn't throw his axe at it, because it's someone's beloved pet, and he probably won't get paid if it gets injured or dies. But it's still an option, and one he is visibly considering: hefting his axe in his hand, looking thoughtfully at it, then up at the tree'd dragon, then back to his axe...Hopefully someone can talk him out of it.

III.) The Witch's Brew
IT'S A HEALTHY SOUP FOR GROWING BOYS

Someone's granny is making a stew, and has promised a fine reward and a delicious meal to anyone who can acquire the rare and necessary ingredients. As mentioned previously, Krieg is aces at fetch quests, and he also likes delicious meals, so he's all over this particular mission.

A.) The Wild Beast
The Wild Beast is something like a boar, and Krieg is absolutely, 100% facing off against the thing with his fists, his fire breath, and his trusty axe. Whether or not he has competent backup is a complete non-issue for him. Whether or not the beast viciously gores him is also a non-issue. It's barely even a fight unless somebody loses a kidney. Hopefully the beast will be the one losing a kidney, but Krieg won't be a sore loser if it's his kidney that gets skewered. He's got two, after all.

There's a solid thunk followed by a blood-curdling, feral scream. Krieg has wedged his axe in to the creature's ribs, and in its rage at being so injured the beast is twisting and turning in an attempt to simultaneously gore Krieg with its enormous tusks and trample him under its sharp hooves. Krieg twists away and avoids injury for the moment with a laugh, although he does sadly leave his axe where it is - buried deep in the creature's side.

"I'M GONNA SWALLOW YOUR THROAT, BADASS!"

And get his axe back. It's his favorite axe.

B.) Cliff Gull Eggs
The cliff faces along the South Coast are where the appropriately named Cliff Gulls make their nests. The rocks are sheer and not easy to climb, but the reward for the effort is apparently worth it.

...It had better be worth it, because not only is the climb treacherous and difficult, but also involves fending off dive-bombing seagulls.

"I ordered a lead salad!" Krieg's not exactly angry at being persistently dive-bombed as he clings to the cliff face and raids nests, but he is kind of annoyed. The gulls are yelling at him, and he's yelling right back.

C.) Cave Mushrooms
There's a special kind of mushroom that only grows in the special blend of cold, damp dark provided by an ocean-facing cave. It's a must-have for Granny's Secret Stew. The caves are narrow and winding, but passable. Krieg is walking even more hunched than he usually does, partially because of the low ceiling, and partially because the cave is freaking cold. Cold doesn't normally bother him all that much, but for some reason this particular cold is biting.

It's necessary to trek deep into the cave's recesses, because it's a popular mushroom-picking spot and all the mushrooms closer to the entrance have been harvested already. It'd probably be a boring and uneventful trek, if you weren't traveling with a Pandoran Psycho, whose response to the lack of interesting stimuli as the cave gets deeper and darker is to mutter,

"The voices said empty, hollow, and thud. The voices said empty, hollow, and thud! The voices said empty, hollow, and thud..."

Yeah, that's absolutely not creepy or ominous. Maybe it's time to distract him?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Rocket has been watching this from a tree directly above the fight.

Why is Rocket in a tree? Because he can be. That is the benefit of being nimble and small, and overwhelmed with a desire for schadenfreude. A lot of idiots come by this way to hunt, and he likes to enjoy the show.

And this is... some show.

Holy shit, he makes Drax look like a monk.]

I gotta tell you, dude. This is the most entertaining hunting trip I've watched all day. I dunno whether I'm impressed or sickened.

[He's beauty, he's grace--

--Actually, nah, he's not either of those things. He will punch you in the face, however.

He's aware of some asshole somewhere apparently heckling him, but it doesn't bother him, or distract him - much.]

PfmnahahahAHAH! Everybody's a critic!

[The wild beast also hears the second voice, and hesitates momentarily as it tries to locate the source of what is likely yet another threat, but it doubles down when it hears Krieg's laughter, squares off, and charges.

It's a short charge, because the two aren't very far apart, but it's definitely in the spirit of the thing. Krieg's dodge to one side is graceless but effective, and he reaches out to grasp at his axe as the creature plunges past. His fingers brust the haft but he's too slow to grasp it, and the beast is twisting and thrashing around in yet another attempt to claim one of Krieg's kidneys.]

[Maybe Rocket should offer an assist.

Except all he has is his laser rifle and that has about as much chance as hitting this MANIAC as it does the giant beast, so he just drops down to a slightly lower branch so he's more visible, but still a safe distance away from the carnage.]

No, but really, I should be sellin' tickets to this. [He whoops in delight.]

[The voice in the tree throws the beast off again, which actually gives Krieg the window he needs to rush in and take his axe back. The serrated blade comes free with a pretty impressive spray of blood, and the wild beast screams even as it turns to attempt to gore Krieg again. He'd been expecting that, though, so it's a fairly easy matter to get out of range before he can be eviscerated.]

Mnahahahaha! It's a baptism of blood!

[Well that's kind of a creepy thing to say.

...Aaaaaand the beast is charging him again, blood still pouring from its wound. Has it slowed down just a teeny, tiny bit? Maybe. It's hard to say.]

If you're gonna sell tickets, I want a cut!

[... that is a really creepy thing to say.

yikes.]

Heh. I wouldn't think twice about tryin' to stiff you. You, dude, are a maniac. These Wyver idiots'll love you.

Pfffmnahahahaha! Hurt me 'till you love me!

[Is he talking to the voice in the trees, or to the enraged wild beast? Who can say? Maybe he's talking to both. He meets the beast's charge head on - with his axe. With excellent timing, he brings the serrated blade of the buzzaxe down in a two-handed chop directly between the creature's eyew. The loud THUNK! of the blade burying deeply into bone is accompanied almost at once by an enraged shriek from the beast and...fire? It sure looks like in addition to an axe in the skull the creature has somehow spontaneously caught fire. The wild beast screams a second time and presses its charge as the fire quickly spreads from its face to the rest of its head and then to its body.

This really does seem to be a situation where a boar spear would be a better weapon than a buzz axe, because even despite the severity of its wounds and the fact that it's now on fire, it's still trying to gore Krieg. All of Krieg's many bulging muscles aren't for show, however, and he's down for this contest of strength. Even though the beast is definitely pushing him back, he manages to hold its head and tusks at bay with a death grip on the axe's handle.]

Mnuhuhuhu...Keep warm!

[That remark is directed at the wild beast, which is very quickly and obviously running out of strength.]

Dude! Dude. [Rocket's whoops and hollers have become an obnoxious cackle of sheer delight, as he really, really gets into this.] Now that's a blade. I don't even like shit like that, but that awesome.

[Eat your heart out, Godslayer.] Take it down, man! You got it on the ropes.

[The encouragement from the trees is a little weird, but he doesn't mind it. Krieg grunts occasionally with the effort of the contest of strength, but it's not a long contest. The beast's forelegs give out first and it slumps forward, pushing at the buzz axe still embedded in its skull with more dead weight and less active malice as each second ticks by. It gives one final groan as its rear legs finally give out, and the entire wild beast topples over, almost in slow motion, onto its wounded side. Krieg moves with it, not quite ready to extract the blade of his axe but also careful because he doesn't want the blade to break.

He waits for several long moments, tense and ready for any last-minute rallying the creature may do, but once it's obvious that the thing is spent, he jerks the blade free and straightens up from his alert crouch with a laugh.]

Mnahaha! I told you what would happen!

[Eat shit, Wild Beast.]

[Once it's good and truly dead, Rocket finally jumps down out of the tree to land on the ground, slapping his little disconcerting hands together in applause.] Man, you have gotta be one of the baddest dudes in these parts. And you have my awe, if not my respect.

[He glances up when he catches the movement of his mysterious spectator, and then jerks his head to follow his gaze when he sees who is talking to him. Or...what is talking to him? Hm. His grasp on reality is shakey some days, but he's pretty sure he's never hallucinated a talking raccoon before. Or, well, maybe he has, and he's just forgotten. He takes a moment to stare, head tilted, visible eye squinting as he processes this new development.

The moment passes, probably awkwardly, as most moments involving Krieg tend to do, and he reaches his conclusion: Eh, he's seen weirder. This little guy seems alright.]

Mnuhuhuhu...You think I'm good, you should see the Haiku Ninja!

[He turns his attention back to his recent kill, because it's still on fire, and gives it a good solid kick in the snout. Weirdly, the leaping flames covering the body seem to die down, quickly shifting from an active fire to a smouldering one.]

Where're you from, little dude?

[Rocket waits for it. That's pretty much all he can do- sit and wait for the inevitable "the fuck are you" conversation. It's as the moment drags on awkwardly that he almost deigns to say something when finally it's just... brushed off.]

Uh... I'll take your word on that. [His eyes fall on the beast, now a smoldering and smelling a great deal like barbecue, which serves to remind him that it's been awhile since he ate. Dammit. Stupid tasty things.]

Not from this planet. And not from anywhere that matters since- [He pauses. This is a guy from the station, right? It occurs to him that natives to Wyver are actually this weird. Maybe he should be more cautious.] Uh... [He points upwards.] Question. What's that moon mean to you?

[Now there's an abrupt subject change if Krieg's ever heard one. And he has. Because usually he's the one making them.

He follows the gesture of the wee little raccoon finger, and he squints and grumbles under his breath as he catches sight of the moon. His gaze lingers there as he answers the question.]

It's a facade of falsehood swaddled in the dregs of deceit! When I woke up they told me Pandora was gone, demolished and obliterated and swallowed by a storm but that some had been spared! But they saved the wrong one!

[His volume increases as he talks, until his last sentence is all but shouted, and he looks back down at Rocket. And sees again how small the little guy is. And actually. Modulates his voice so that he's no longer shouting. It's clear he's still pissed, though.]

They woke him up but took him back for a nap. If they wake him up again I'll peel off his face with my fingernails before I split his skull in half!!

[You're welcome for that mental image.]

[Despite the intensity of the statement- holy shit he even talks like a thesaurus like Drax- Rocket lets out a relieved breath.]

Okay, okay good. For a second there, I thought you were a Wyvern with weird fashion sense.

[a beat] Though, just for kicks, whose face are you peeling off?

[It's been a lot of talk of murdering people who suck in stasis since the beginning. He likes knowing who the shitty people are.]

[No Wyvern here, Krieg's just a regular Pandoran with normal Pandoran fashion sense.]

The man with the face stapled to his face! Handsome Jackass!

[You know. The Guy.]

We shot him in the mouth on Pandora in the middle of his villain speech and took turns wearing his mask after he died! Mnuhuhuhu, the beefy Gunzerker wore it best.

Okay... That is terrifying, but cool. You do you, man.

[Of course now he's wondering how many people named "Jack" there are that need to die. He only knows about Angel's and she seems pretty cagey about that fact, so there's no easy way to ask.

Best just to now then.] Still don't know why the frickin' Celestials have to go around keeping people we already killed in stasis. It ain't like we murdered 'em for fun. And it's just counterproductive.

[Angel is very cagey for pretty good reason, but Krieg is not. He'll shit on Jack all day with minimal encouragement. But, Rocket's next remark has him curious, and he tilts his head to one side as he asks about that, instead.]

Who'd you kill?

[Is there someone awake and wandering around on the planet that he should be aware of?]

Not anyone who's woke up now. [Rocket grins cheekily. Now's the time to bring the bullshit so he can maybe impress this guy. He could be an asset one day. After all, he always needs muscle around.] But I may have killed a sentient planet.

[Technically, the Storm preempted the fight, but whatever. There's a twenty percent chance Groot wouldn't have killed them all, and it would've been fine.] He's got this avatar or somethin' that's human, and that's what's in stasis right now. It's complicated, but all you need to know is that guy is nuts.

Pff! Nuts like, nipple salads!! Or nuts like, I poisoned my daughter with slag and I'm going to burn this planet to ash but I'm really a good person and also a hero!

[There are many kinds of nuts, after all.

Krieg, for instance, is a beautiful, shining example of the former.

The guy he warned Rocket about and who he is now poorly imitating is a filthy stinking example of the latter.]

[Rocket stares at him, because those are oddly specific examples, and yet somehow hits the nail on the head exactly. Because of Drax and Ego... Though admittedly, Drax would never use "nipple salads" in a sentence, but that's because he's too literal.]

...The second one. Almost perfectly, actually. Man, I'm suddenly glad I don't have a dad I know about.

[Krieg's grasp on reality isn't nearly good enough for him to take everything (or maybe anything?) literally. Hyperbole is how he lives his best life!]

If I had one, I don't remember! Dads are overrated. Friends are better.

[The last of the fire seems to be dying out on Krieg's kill, so he kneels down to grab one of its forelegs, and yanks and hauls the creature up onto his shoulders with quite a few grunts and groans and some effort. Once he's got the thing positioned, though, he stands back up with much less trouble, and settles his kill comfortably over his broad shoulders.

And then, to Rocket, more or less apropos of nothing:]

Where do you live, Little Dude?

[Friends are definitely better, but Rocket is loathe to admit that to anyone, much less a guy he just met. He's in that in-between space where it's still awkward to admit you have friends (and, honestly, the Guardians are more like family to him).]

Back towards those crappy starter houses. I'm still tryin' to get up the silver to move out.

[What he doesn't say is he's pinching silver that he isn't using to drink or gamble to buy something nice. If he's gonna be stuck in one place, he's gonna be doing it in style.]

[Aww. It's okay to have feelings, Rocket. No one will judge you for them!

...Well. No one important, anyway.]

I just crash with the shotgun ninja. He has a couch that isn't even broken!

[Is anyone surprised at how low Krieg's standards for comfort are? Anyone? Bueller?

Kill claimed, it's time to start heading back to said bachelor pad. With a small detour by Granny's, of course, to drop off said kill and get that sweet, sweet payment. He just walks off like he either assumes Rocket's going to join him, or stay out here. Because that's totally normal, right?]

Who's the shotgun ninja, exactly? 'Cause not gonna lie- that guy sounds like someone I should know.

[And he follows, because he is That Interested.]

My murder buddy from Pandora! He stabs and snipes and I burn and slash! He's also a giant nerd, but nobody's perfect!

[Krieg really doesn't have much room to talk; he'll occasionally quote classic literature, although it's anyone's guess as to whether or not he's aware he's doing it. Zer0 prefers to reference pop culture that's usually weirdly specific to an ancient east-asian country on Earth.]

You wanna meet him?

[~~Yo, Zer0, this cute little raccoon followed him home, can Krieg keep him?~~]

[Rocket stops short, the pieces falling together. Pandora. Stabs and snipes. Ninja.

He bursts out laughing.] Whoa, whoa. Wait a minute. You're talkin' about Zer0, right? He's your buddy? Man, no wonder Rhys always said I'd fit in on that planet. It's full of my kind of lunatics.

Yeah, that's him! We kill real good together!

[Oh, the fuzzy dude knows Rhys, too? Small world.]

I dunno how Noodles lived on Pandora without snapping himself in half or getting snapped in half. He's probably better off here.

[Probably. Some of the locals are pretty shifty, and the whole...political climate...thing this planet has going is really shitty.]

I mean his first impulse was to open a store, apparently, so probably. Pandora does not seem like the shopping capital of the galaxy.

[He has heard many, many things. Enough to get a decent idea of the climate there. It's kinda like Sakaar, only with less gladiator slavery.

Who would have thought the true bonding experience would be dunking on Rhys.]

MnahahahahAHAHAH!

[Look, dunking on Rhys is the natural instinct of literally any intelligent being who's made his acquaintance for more than five minutes. Clearly it's a great way to bond!]

Better here than Pandora! Even the Gun Man prefers vending machines!

[That is, selling via vending machines. Marcus may have a physical shopfront, but it is very notably in Sanctuary, which is a slightly safer place to do business than pretty much all of the rest of Pandora.]

But headshots drop the best loot.

[Rocket isn't going to question the logic of headshots dropping loot, because that just sounds too awesome on its own to be destroyed by an explanation. Instead, his eyes light up with the kind of glee reserved only for professional thieves.]

Dude. Dude. They put guns in vending machines there?!

[VENDING MACHINES ARE THE EASIEST THING TO STEAL FROM. HOW DO YOU THINK HE FED HIMSELF BEFORE HE LEARNED ALL OF HIS SKILLS.]

You know who is also an amazing dragon wrangler? Reinhardt. He is a walking heatpad and climbing rock. Before his do-gooding had bit him in the ass, he could be found in the dragon nurseries, surrounded by little hatchlings, wearing about 20 of them at any given time. However, he wasn't actually out there for dragon reasons.

He comes and goes from Olympia, ferrying food or medicine or blankets. Whatever he can to help those who are avoiding the oncoming war. He doesn't find any of those on his way back to the border. It's been a pretty sad haul. What he finds is a familiar man standing in front of a tree.

He slows, the heavy thud of his horse's hooves stopping just to the side so he can look way way down at Krieg. He looks from man to the drooping branch and back to the man. From horseback, Reinhardt is pretty much about level with the branch. The joys of a huge man on a him sized stallion.

"Hallo, mein freund. Would you like a boost?" Since he's not just going to reach up himself. He knows men like to do things for themselves. Krieg is such a man.

Krieg turns when the man speaks, and looks up (and up) into that familiar bearded face. He grins, although his ever-present mask completely hides his expression.

"Hey, gramps!" He tosses his axe lightly, spinning it in the air once before catching it by the haft. "I'll take a boost or a catcher, your choice!" He's perfectly willing to accept any help Reinhardt chooses to give. It's Reinhardt offering, after all. Krieg could never say "no" to this guy, and he'll even leave the choice up to him: Does he want to separate the dragon from the tree the easy way, or the fun way?

Like there is any question which way he'd choose. He knows Krieg, or at least he thinks he does. He likes seeing his friends happy. So he's going to choose the best option. Besides, that wood could be useful. He could chop it up and bring it to those hiding away for firewood.

So he'll smile down and casually dismount. It's actually pretty much falling still, but he hopes he doesn't ruin the man's image of him. It's so he can send the huge white horse just out of the way of any falling anything.

"Chop away, mein freund. I will catch that beast."

Reinhardt has misunderstood Krieg's meaning. Which, to be fair, is easy to do; the Psycho isn't exactly a font of clarity even at the best of times. His buzz axe, with its radial, serrated blade, isn't a wood-chopping axe. Attempting to use it as such would quickly dull or even break the blade. No, this axe is meant for carving up much more pliable material than wood - namely, flesh.

He's not going to carve up the baby dragon, though. Its only sins, if they can even be called that, are that it's a little too skittish and wiley for its own good.

Once Reinhardt is in a good catching position, Krieg throws his axe, exactly as he's been contemplating doing. It spins through the air and knocks the non-bladed handle harmlessly into the dragon's side. The creature lets out a surprised squeal and scrabbles at the bark of its perch, but the hit was a strong one, and its back end slides off the branch. By digging in with its front claws, it manages to avoid falling completely, though now it's dangling precariously from the branch like some kind of fat dragon baby equivalent of the quintessential "hang in there!" kitten poster.

It's a good thing that Krieg isn't going to carve up this specific turkey. Reinhardt might not be too happy with him. He would be very upset and disappointed that the man would hurt such an adorable innocent fat little dragon. But all is well. Throwing things is different.

The dragon is hit and Reinhardt can't help but call out to the other man. "Good throw, Krieg." Because the man needs to know when he does a good job. It's not his fault the little lizard is being stubborn and scared.

He laughs a little though at the sight. If he was home more, he would totally have a poster like that in his hovel. But he's not home enough to decorate. So he'll just remember this moment and move to stand under it and reach up. "All right, you can let go. I'm going to catch you, little one. I'm warm and I have dragon treats." Well, sort of. He always carries dog cookies, just in case he runs into a nice dog in his travels. Surely a dragon would like them just as much.

And if the critter doesn't fall on his own, he supposes he can reach and catch the end of the things tail. He just has to hope it's not like lizards that lose their butts when people grab them.

The baby dragon's eyes flick wildly back and forth as it pinwheels its stumpy rear legs in a futile effort to heave itself back up onto the branch. It hears Reinhardt's words, and for a second it seems to bristle - it's a noble and venerable wild BEAST! Its kin are venerated and worshipped throughout the land! It is no mere housepet, to be placated with the offer of treats!

...Except, after what seems almost like a moment of thought, it decides that maybe treats are worth it. They have to be better than scavenging in the garbage, right? And this guy seems a lot nicer than the crazy dude with the axe and the mask. So yeah, okay. There's no need to find out if dragons are like the lizards with the detachable butts; the baby dragon lets go of its branch, trusting the human below to catch it.

The treats are totally worth it. Reinhardt has made them after all. He always has some because well, he's an old man at heart that likes to spoil cute animals. Dogs. Cats. Fat dragons. So he waits and has his bribe ready in his pocket.

And there goes the dragon. One fatass lizard right into his arms. Reinhardt adores dragons (at least the little ones, he'd slay the big ones), so he's careful with it, making sure to have a strong hold while he gets into his pocket for one of those treats.

"As promised." He looks to Krieg again. "And you. That really is a good throw. I have him now. I can't get back on my horse with him, so I'm going to trust you to help me with Grani. Since I'm going to keep hold of his guy until we're where we need to be." Not that he'll take any money. His payment had been helping a good friend.

A compliment from Reinhardt? Grandpa, pls, you're making him blush...!

"You should see me when I throw to kill!"

...Okay, maybe not really. Still, he's pleased by the praise. Coming from someone as badass as the Battle Grandpa, it would be impossible not to feel flattered. But what goes around comes around, as they say, and it's not long before Krieg's got something nice to say.

"Pfmanahahaha! Good catch!"

Not that it would be super difficult to catch a fat, falling baby dragon, but in Kreig's eyes, everything Reinhardt does is amazing. Including standing in one place to catch a falling baby dragon. So, uh, yeah.

Kreig regards the massive horse with some curiosity, but doesn't make any immediate moves to approach it. He has some vague idea that all of the leathery bits attached to the creature's head are what you're supposed to grab to make it go, but he's obviously not sure about that. His rebellious brain supplies him with all kinds of crazy notions and ideas all the time. Sometimes it's fun to just go with the impulse and see what happens, but Reinhardt is actually one of the few people he respects enough to not want to do that, sooooo...

He looks back and forth between Reinhardt and the horse a couple times before he can line up the words he wants, and spits them out.

"Tell me what to do, Gramps!"

With the little fatty lizard in his arms and nomming on the treat, Reinhardt can't really take his horse. He knows the animal would follow him, but in this place, he can't be too careful. He doesn't want his horse tripping or throwing a shoe or anything like that.

He watches the way the man looks forward and back to him. He considers handing over the dragon, but he thinks the critter is likely most secure being manhandled by him. Not that he didn't think Krieg could do it, but he knows that he's a little stronger arm-strength wise. It means he can keep hold if the dragon decides to make another runner up another tree.

"Well, Grani is a good horse. But sometimes, he needs led. See those reigns. You take those and you just hold on and use it to guide him around any big holes he might step in. Tug to the left and he goes left. To the right, he goes right." He gives another treat to the dragon to keep it docile for the moment and frees a hand long enough to catch those little leather strap thingies to hand over to the other man.

"I'm counting on you to keep him safe. A knight is nothing without his horse, ja?"

Considering how vehemently the baby dragon ran away from Krieg, Reinhardt's conclusion about him being the best one to hold the little guy is likely the correct one.

Krieg squints at the horse as Reinhardt explains what needs to be done to lead it. After a moment, he reaches up to grab the dangly bit he's assuming is the rein. It seems to be attached to a metal bar clenched between the creature's teeth and held in place by more leather strapped around its face. That seems weird, but, well, so do a lot of things in this place.

He looks back over to Reinhardt as if to say, Like this?, but what he actually says is, "Mnuhuhuhu...I'll keep him the most safe!"

Which, considering nearly all of their journey back to the dragon's owner's home is going to consist of walking through the streets of Olympia, shouldn't be difficult at all to accomplish.

At this point, Zer0 is so used to Krieg's creepy bullshit that it never really bothers him. Every now and then though, he can't help but just stop and stare, and wonder just what the fuck is going through this asshole's mind.Part of him doesn't want to know, but another part of him really just wants any distraction from the cold that he can find, so.

"What else do they say? / That we're starting to get close? / That would be super."

There's not much going through this asshole's mind, except thoughts of dinner. This stew they're freezing their butts off for had better be super good.

"Mnahaha! The end comes soon! We hear drums, drums in the deep! Eat your heart out, Nerdlord!"

There aren't actually any drums, just the quiet, echo-y sound of the ocean behind them. But Zer0 knows how Krieg is, so it's probably no big deal.

Hey. [ she interjects as he keeps muttering ] Y'know life isn't always about gouging out people's eyes. Chill a little.

[ ermes has willingly come to help krieg pick flowers because the absurdity of watching him run across the field is worth the price of admission alone. he still freaks her out a little, but hey, no giant sea monsters in sight, so her issues are minimal.

but after saying the word "chill" she realizes immediately after that, no, this is a man without that ability. ]

[Being sort of freaked out by Krieg is a very reasonable and sane reaction to have. It's actually kind of weird how many people he's met here on this weird little planet that aren't slightly freaked out by him. But that's neither here nor there.

He's glad to hang out with Ermes again. He likes her attitude; she reminds him a little bit of Pandora, but in a good way. Also, she gave him a copy of his axe, which he still has! Best present ever.]

Can't chill! The fire'll go out!

[...He says that, but it's also fairly apparent that in responding to her remark, his focus has shifted into a more personable place. So he has, actually, sort of done what she asked anyway.]

No fire here bud. Just the great ol' outdoors of beautiful nature.

[ and part of her wants to put a hand on his shoulder and turn him around to show him the vast fields in emphasis of her point, but he does not look like a man she should touch - like ever? he might freak out at her and it isn't worth it. inatead she opts to spread her arms out to show that... the field is big? ok no, she drops them right after. ]

Gotta say, didn't think a maniac man like you cared about flowers.

Pfff! Maybe I have the soul of a poet, but you just don't know it!

[Yeah, no, that's not actually super likely, even though he does sometimes have a way with words.

He actually doesn't care all that much about flowers. He's only doing this becaaaaause...]

"If the Quest-Giver wants to pay the Psycho to pick flowers, the Psycho's not gonna say no!"

[Get money get paid!]

[ she smiles ] Fair 'nuff. [ hell, she would probably pick flowers if the pay was good enough. it'd have to be really good though. ]

But, uh, usually when you pick flowers off the ground, they die like really fast. Do you think they care about that? Like you ain't giving these to your school boy crush to blow dandelion dust into their eyes.

The Pretty Lady wants guns, not flowers! A Maliwan SMG is a girl's best friend! [He pronounces 'SMG' like 'smig'.]

I think the flowers need to be dead. They hang upside down from the ceiling for weeks, and all the life dries out before they're crushed into powder!

[It would definitely be easier to say they're for an apothecary but metaphors of life and death and violence are Krieg's bread and butter. Is anyone surprised? Probably not.]

Edited (lmao formatting, W H O O P S) 2018-02-24 03:20 (UTC)

Uhhhh-huh.

[ she has no clue what he even just referred to. goddamn what is up with his head, he must be legitimately fucked up as opposed to just being weird. ]

Well, I'll agree with you on one thing - guns are way better than flowers. Though I'm more about fighting with my fists nowadays. It's way more satisfying to just knock a dude's head, y'know? I bet y'know, you probably knock dudes all the time.

[Oh, Ermes, if only you knew...8')]

Yeah!

[He is instantly enthusiastic about her enthusiasm for brutal assault. Heck yeah, he knew he liked her for a reason!]

I miss my guns but I still have my axe, and my fists always work! There aren't nearly enough heads around here to smash, though.

[The bandit-to-citizen ratio on this planet is a huge letdown. There are barely any heads to knock. Which is why he's out in this sunny field picking flowers for sweet, sweet cash.]

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