sky sailing

blue blooded

The car shudders to an eventual halt. My magic spikes, because this is not supposed to happen. The familiar burning sensation behind my eyes is not welcome this time as I wince, expecting to hear a loud crash somewhere, but then realize that all it's done is turn off my music. Wow, first time my magic acting up has ever been convenient. Most of the time it would have knocked something over, like that bucket of water with Gaius..., but that is gone.

Glancing up out of my thoughts, I am met by a cacophony of urgently angry and frightened voices. At first, I can't even understand what they're saying and roll my eyes in exasperation. After some shouting between Mrs. Cane and some other blonde lady who appears to be quite fond of eyeliner, though, I can finally understand that practically the whole car, besides me, is panicking about the fact that we're stopped.

"Maybe we've broken down..., in the middle of nowhere," I muse aloud, grinning as I sense the oncoming presence of danger and adventure that I'd missed all these years. My magic twists in my chest again, blood boiling with a newfound adrenaline. I'm too wrapped up in my cold, far off memories to hear the slightly sarcastic retort from Valerie Cane of "thanks, Jethro."

When I become aware of my surroundings again, I notice that the same man with the bright red converse is trying to calm everyone and reassure them that everything is fine. I can, of course, tell that he is lying and know that this cruise never stops for anything. A tall, thin, white haired guy who almost reminds me of an older Agravaine states so about a second later.

"Mister...," he waves his hand in the air as if unsure what to do with it. "whatever your name is, I've been on this cruise fifty times and it has never stopped once." His expression is set in a determined yet childishly disbelieving and incredulously panicked state. "Something must be wrong."

"The Doctor. Call me Doctor, that'll be fine. And I'm completely sure that whatever it is that's wrong will be fine in a minute," the red-converse man says as if he's not really paying attention. I smirk at this, because the white haired man doesn't seem like he knows what he's talking about and this 'Doctor' guy seems to know it.

"Ladies and gentlemen, and variations thereupon. We're just experiencing a short delay. The driver needs to stabilize the engine feeds. It's perfectly routine, so if you could just stay in your seats...," A dark haired lady hurries out into the passenger carriage, her heels clacking on the floor. Judging by her blue and gray uniform, and her makeup, she's the hostess. Her face is a mask of barely concealed distress.

Promptly ignoring her, red-converse guy strides past her.

"No, I'm sorry, sir, I- could you please return to your seat?"

Red-converse man flashes her a blank piece of paper. "There you go. Engine expert. Two ticks," he tosses out, stepping into the control room.

I peer after him, watching the heavy gray door close intently. The Doctor reminds me of my father for some reason. My real father, I mean. Balinor, the last Dragonlord.

I haven't tried calling the Great Dragon for a long time. I doubt there are any dragons left now.