theattic | SWAMP PEOPLE

Krem hadn't been the most well loved man in his town. In fact, most people wouldn't much call him a man at all in the tiny place he called home. Much to the disgust of most, he wore pants, fought and had attempted to apply for the queen's army before he'd been ousted by someone from his same village. He had thankfully left with his head, and yet...he wasn't quite so sure he wanted it.

As it stood now though? This was definitely not what he was asking for when he had thought off handedly that dying might be easier, tied to a stake with a dress shoved onto him on the top of a hill overlooking a large swamp. It was close enough that he could smell it, and there were some bugs beginning to warm low in the failing light. He'd been sitting on that hill a good few hours, struggling to get himself free, but the bastards that had tied him to the pole had done a good job.

It hadn't always been so bad. He had always been like this, living as a man, being one in all but the eyes of the people around him, but that had been when his father had been around, proudly praising his son and his skills in fighting and learning his trade, as his father had been a very good tailor. So good in fact that most people ignored his crazy 'son' and held their tongues. At least until he had been called by the castle, a royal commission. His wife had decided to stay behind, and even if Krem had wanted to go with, he had been left in the village as well.

Everything seemed to just crumble from there.

He sighed, his arms and shoulders aching behind his back, whole body sore from standing in the awkward position in unseemly clothing. The men who had beaten him and dragged him here had even tried to fashion him a wig, his hair cut short years ago to make him look more 'ladylike' They had said.

Though, even if they were sure he'd be taken by the monster living in the swamp, Krem isn't. He hadn't seen much movement most of the day, and if he's lucky, he won't. What is more dangerous perhaps are the birds starting to circle above him. He'd rather not get eaten alive by ravens if he could help it.

Little concrete evidence of the beast in the bog existed in the little town. There were crude drawings, an etching or two in the large slabs of limestone that jutted from the hill like dragon's teeth. When things went wrong, they blamed him--missing lambs, sick children, most things really.

However this fear was one the cowardly townsfolk decided to try and appease rather than seek out.

And so here stood Krem, the damselkebab. Honestly, if they hadn't made such a ruckus with their horrible words and throwing things, some bandit might have come along before the beast poked his head out of the rushes to watch from a distance.

What the fuck even were humans?

There came a great glorping as the green surface of the swamp swelled and bubbled. An enormous snout followed by an even more enormous noggin emerged, topped in a murky mane and long twisted antlers. The dragon slithered his way up the hill and for anyone not looking for them, didn't appear to have any legs to speak of. His tiny wings were pressed flat to his back along with the colorful frill that ran down his spine. Foot after foot of dragon slunk up from the swamp as he tested the air with his tongue.

The monster's head, in length, was probably a little longer than a grown man and his jaws were overlapped by sparse but sharp-looking teeth. By the time he reached the top of the hill, he periscoped his neck so that he could look down upon this...curious display. An inquiring rumble.

Krem had been watching the sky, watching the birds, when the monster started to appear out of the swamp. He almost missed the last of him slipping out into the open, but the movement out of the corner of his eye made him look down, and that's when he really started struggling.

The post had been pre-dug into the ground, gotten good and rooted in this premeditated situation Krem caught himself in. No matter what he did, it didn't shift or break. The ropes were the good ones, and his arms strained as hard as he could make them, and nothing.

In the end, he started to panic as the dragon slithered up the hill closer and closer before he finally let all sense of pride go and screamed to the emptiness behind him. "Hellllllllp! For the love of god, HELLLLLLP!"

His scream echoed into silence. And when he turned his head back foward, he was face to face with the large beast, it's head just a touch longer than his entire body.

"Shit."

When the creature's dinner on a stick started screaming, its pupils narrowed into thread-thin slits. While he just didn't get humans a lot of the time, he knew well enough what was going on here. They'd left him old sickly goats once upon a time but never a screaming person.

The dragon turned his long, vulture-shaped head toward the town and let out a cloudy huff. This bullshit right here? This was why he lived alone. If you put too many heads together in one place they got all KINDS of horrible ideas. Well. He knew just what he was going to do about that.

In a single, smooth, horrifying movement, the dragon's head darted downward, jaws closing around the post, Krem, and all, and yanked them right out of the ground before turning in place, tail cracking toward the city behind him like a whip, and trundling back down toward his home. His return to the swamp was not nearly so graceful and mysterious as his appearance.

When his body hit the water, he easily swam along its surface, tiny wings spread out and paddling him along, his long tail undulating and pushing the shore further and further away. All the while, Krem was held aloft.

Krem squeezed his eyes shut as the dragon lowered it's jaws towards him, but the pain nor the sickening crunch came the longer he waited. Just, the rattling of the stake he'd been tied too and the sudden lurch of motion and air. It was hard to breathe with the ropes so tight, too warm in the extra layers of the dress above his armor, and yet he was still hyperventilating, as he opened his eyes and saw that he was being moved right back where the dragon had come from. It's body moved along silent, and he had expected not to have the courtesy of being held above the water, and yet he wasn't getting wet in the bog.

He's thankful. And yet...doesn't know why the monster is doing this. He's rather sure if won't understand if he asks, and yet, in his misery, he voices his frustration and fear aloud.

"Should have just eaten me back there...Not like i'd be any better anywhere else." He frowns hard, still unable to move, trying to control his breathing. "And if you're not, the birds would have gotten me eventually. Greedy bastard."

Greedy bastard?

More of those words being flung around by the angry townsfolk! The dragon wasn't going to stand for that and he swung his great neck to one side, clanging the top half of the stake against a tree, thouroughly rattling Krem before continuing on his voyage.

Eventually, the hill disappeared behind the cypress and moss. The swamp was dark and full of frogsong and buzzing insects. Little islands dotted the waters and the trees were bowed and bent in places, shaped by the dragon's travels over the years. On one of these islands was an enormous pile of...well, a lot of things. There were shining weapons and armor, broken wagon wheels, blue and green bottles in various shapes and sizes, shells, feathers, and of course hundreds of skeletons. A large empty egg shell half about the size of a prize winning pumpkin was half hidden in bushes.

The dragon deposited Krem smack in the middle of the mess.

Krem was his now.

And finally, the monster spoke. His voice was loud and it rattled from somewhere within the creature's submerged shallow chest but it carried a heavy twang to it that suggested a beet farmer rather than a legendary swamp monster.

"What were those men so mad about?"

The rattling had made Krem completely lose his voice. He might have been a strong young man, but tied and helpless, there wasn't much he could do to protect himself, and so silence was the best way of self preservation at the moment, he figured.

He could barely see as they moved, but could tell that he was getting further into the swamp, the light fading to the darker shades of the bog, and he coughed as a bug flew into his mouth. Waiting and silent, he flinched as he stake and himself were deposited amongst junk, treasure and bones, unsure what to think of it all when the monster spoke.

He was speechless.

"Uh..." He starts, licking his lips to try and get his brain working, his mouth moving.

Finally, his mouth and brain work together to say, "They thought I was sick in the head."

There was a long rumble as the dragon thought about that. He lowered his head and twisted his long neck around so that he could lift a foot from the waters and scratch at his mane, sending bits of mud and stick and bits of broken arrow raining down over Krem.

"That's stupid."

Itch scratched, he shook himself out from his head to his tail. Bits of him surfaced here and there. It was impossible to tell exactly how long he was or where all of him was.

"I...Y-yeah I thought so." He returned, unsure, but then closed his eyes as the shower from the dragon's itch rained down on him. It wasn't entirely pleasant, but. What could you do, tied to a stake in a swamp? His cheek was practically pressed to the mud if he shifted on his aching shoulder enough.

"You're...a lot different than I imagined." He ventures once he's opened his eyes, considering the long seemingly endless body, "Though I figure you're still going to eat you if I tell you any sort of tale of woe, so. Might as well get on with it. Just, don't let me die in this god awful dress. I mean, if you'd be so kind."

His expression is kind of hopeless. Though he figured dragons were legendary creatures. If they could talk, surely they understood last requests, right?

If the creature took any offense to not meeting Krem's expectations, he didn't show it. Instead, he turned his head so that he could look at Krem with one big yellow eye at a time.

What the fuck was a dress?

He didn't know, but he did know that he couldn't expect his new piece of treasure to be any kind of good company tied to a stick. He lowered his head again and spread his jaws, gingerly hooking a long ugly tooth under one of the ropes and ripping it in two with a loud snap, as though it were twine.

However, instead of allowing Krem the dignity of untangling himself, the creature just rose his neck up and up and up, unwinding him like a yoyo. This rope was his too now. He shook his head, flinging it over himself and then twisting his head around to admire his new necklace. Yes, this was nice.

Krem watched as the dragon leaned forward, snapping the rope, and-

He was suddenly twirling, sick and fell from the slight rise of being pulled on the rope, quite dizzy when he hit the ground. The ill-made garment atop his regular clothes was ragged and tangled all up in his legs and the wig that the villagers had made falls off his head, his dark brown hair and shaved sides free to the air again, even if his hair definitely didn't look as nice as it should. Wig hair.

"I'm...going to vomit." He manages, ignoring the dragon admiring is knew necklace as he stands up on shaky legs and stumbles over to the edge of the water, taking deep breathes, even if the water stank. He heaved once, but managed to keep it all in.

Give him a minute, Dragon, he needs to collect himself.

The retching managed to steal the creature's attention and he watched Krem with concern. He wondered if the little human was hurt--well beyond the ugly bruises and cuts from the stoning.

"Well, if you gotta, I won't stop you."

Lowering his head and removing the rope from his neck, he began to drape it across the branches with his snout, suddenly climbing up into the ancient trees like a python and stringing it along to see how it looked hanging THIS way.

Suddenly his head was around in front of Krem again, hanging upside down.

"What is a dress?"

He almost glares in his direction, blaming him for the sudden sickness. He can't expect a dragon to hold it's stomach well if it was spun around like that either. His head ached from the momentum. "Give me a minute." He holds up his hand as he continues to just breath, and when he feels his stomach settle, his head stop spinning, he opens his eyes.

And there's the Dragon's nose, right in front of his. "AH!"

He tumbles back, falling on his ass and breathes out another deep breath to collect himself. "Warn a guy, would you?" He sighs, heavily and stands, grabbing the hem of the top garment and shedding it, waving it at him. "This. This is a dress. A god damn, ladies garment, made for women." He glares at the thing, feeling his eyes burn for want of crying, but instead he lets out another yell, wadding the thing up and throwing it as far as he can into the swamp. Being cloth, it doesn't go far but, it feels good to do it. The light fabric settles on the top of the water.

He's left in his pants and a ripped shirt, his boots and paldrons but nothing else. They'd stripped him of the rest once they'd gotten him unconscious. He supposed in their haste to get him tied they hadn't removed it all. For that he's thankful. "God damn bastards..."

Humans were so jumpy!

All of Krem's stumbling and shuffling around made his prey drive itch but his curiosity easily beat it down. When the dress went fluttering, he turned his head, tempted to lurch out after it. It had come with Krem! It belonged to him too!

But Krem didn't seem to think it was a good thing to have so he decided to let it be. He didn't know much in the way of humans but he was sapient enough to know misery when he saw it. The dragon crawled down from the trees, submerging most of his body again, hanging his head like a swan's so that he could easily see his sad new treasure.

"They aint the best neighbors..." he commiserated.

Krem was perhaps a little preoccupied glaring at the ground. His fear had been driven out of him. He hadn't been hurt yet, more like resigned to what ever fate. After being beaten and left for dead, he wondered if his mother had even protested. What she would tell his father when he returned. That he was gone, she couldn't save him?

His boot kicked into the mud, unsure of what to do with all the anger and misery he had wallowing around, all those left over feelings. And then he looked up, and there was the dragon. Again. He didn't jump this time, just laughed harshly.

"You're not wrong about that. Lived with them all my life. They all hated me...every single one."

The dragon blinked. "Because you were sick?"

That didn't sit right with him. He turned and rumbled to himself as he gazed in the direction they had come from. He had a mind to eat more than a lamb or two the next time he slunk into town to Learn About Peoples.

"I'm not sick," He shoots back venomously. His fingers curled tight into fists. Even sore and beaten the word made him immediately tense.

"I'm...myself. And I was myself, unapologetically. They didn't like that." He swallows, his heart beating fast again. With all these feelings in his chest, the anger that kept growing he felt like he would get sick, and yet it stayed, rumbling there like a storm.

"Without he mob, I'd have loved to take them all down, one by one. I barely even got a few hits in..." He hadn't stood much of a chance, really. One against a whole mob wasn't fair odds. Though...honestly, there were some he might have stayed his hand for. Jury's still out on whether he would for his mother.

A low hiss met Krem's retort. The dragon withdrew his head as though Krem had swung at him and he growled.

"Get that knot out of your tail, I'm trying to understand you. Unless you'd rather me eat you."

He lowered his head and ruffled Krem's short hair with a burst of stale dragon breath--something loamy clouded the air. This dragon was not the fire breating sort.

"You got mad when I called you a greedy bastard!" He shoots back, fists still curled, and yet, he takes a step back when he snorts on him, trying not to cough.

And yet still, he holds the ground he does have, "Just...please don't use that word. It makes me angry. I can't help it." His shoulders sag slightly, looking up at the dragon, trying to feed that anger else where, into something less destructive and hateful.

"What's your name, anyways? If you're trying to understand me, I'd like to understand you."

"I know words!" The dragon snapped back.

Sorry, Krem. NO GENDER IN THE SWAMP. That was one part of human society that he hadn't been very captured by in his lurking. He liked that humans covered themselves in pretty cloth like--dresses, he'd learned the word for, but he didn't know that you could get the shit beat out of you for wearing the wrong kind.

Unless it was a stolen dress maybe.

But then it was Krem's turn to ask a question and the dragon's mouth opened and closed a few times. He'd had a few names over the years but...no one to call him by any of them for a long time now. Monster, Beast, Dragon, Serpent, Devil.

But there was one a couple of special someones had called him once upon a time. It was so long ago and only a breath ago for a dragon.

"Derrgun."

He'd like to hear that word again.

"Well, I won't say it any more. So long as we're good on you not calling me sick. Because I'm not." He tries to compromise. It's all he really had to offer in any case. Not that he had been left with much.

He watched as the dragon considered his question though, making faces, though afterward, what came out of his mouth wasn't what he expected. His mouth makes a thin line as he tries not to laugh. It sounded silly for a Dragon. He almost does in the sort of hysterical way, and yet his mouth stays closed.

"Derrgun, then. I'm Cremisius Aclassi." He extends his hand, offering it naturally since he was so used to the gesture, "Though...My father calls me Krem, it's easier."

AH YES! DERRGUN KNEW THIS ONE!

He twisted himself up onto the bank so that he could reach out with a large, clawed hand that engulfed Krem's and he shook him roughly.

"Krem," the dragon parroted. It sounded more like Kreyum. He lifted his head and looked out into the trees. "If you go back, will they tie you to another post? There is a kingdom on the other side of my land and they have never put up posts for me."

That might not have been Krem's best idea, shook like a ragdoll by the dragon and feeling his aching shoulders protest greatly. He rubs at it once he's let go.

He needed to rest once this was all settled, and despite the setting, he's sure to sleep for sometime. His whole body ached. At the question though, he frowns, looking back towards where his town lay. "They probably would. My mother was part of the mob." His hands tremble at his sides when he says so, but he stops shaking once the words pass from his lips. He'd get no more sympathy from her.

"Father is probably still at the castle you're thinking of. I...I'm not sure it would be a good idea to see him either." Not that it left him anywhere else to go. He had been discovered at the palace while trying to become part of the royal army. It hadn't been wise to try again after the first attempt.

In an instant, the dragon looked scandalized. This human's own MOTHER put him on that post! He drew himself up, tail lashing and churning up the water, startling several frogs and turtles.

"I don't understand..." Derrgun had studied and watched but he just couldn't...GET humans. He puffed out another choking cloud through his nose and turned away. He had snatched up Krem for a few reasons...but now he had more of a reason. He felt downright justified. They couldn't have him!

Sure he'd heard of mother dragons eating their hatchlings sometimes but this was...twisted.

Krem bit his lip, unsure of what to think of the Dragon's sudden outrage for him and his situation. He coughs this time when he puffs his breath in irritation, covering his mouth and stands, watching.

He knows why it was done, he understands even if he doesn't agree and yet...he doesn't have the heart to talk about it. Derrgun hadn't questioned him yet, had called him Krem without hesitation, and it felt good. He was judged for his harsh words, not his appearance and all that he was and wasn't.

"You know, I hope you never do. It's...odd to say, but you're quite the breath of fresh air when it comes to a decent conversation."

Derrgun would have protested--that he wanted to understand the ways of men--but he was sidetracked by a compliment. He puffed up, the purple frill on his back raising like a sail.

"I have been practicing."

At least it explained his stilted speech.

Krem smiles, just the slightest. His heart is a little too heavy for much more at the moment, but it's something.

"For a dragon, you're more personable than any person I've met for a long time. I guess your practice paid off." He continues to compliment, finally shifting to sit since his whole body ached. Once off his feet, he heaves a very heavy sigh and leans forward, resting his weight on his bent knees. "Though I suppose you'll want me gone here shortly."

Derrgun made no protest when Krem sat on his favorite broken shell. His hoard wasn't quite like other hoards he'd heard tell of. If nobody saw it, what good was it?

However...a problem quickly arose and the dragon's face shifted. He glanced around as though something very awkward were taking place because in his eyes there was.

"Er...no. No, actually. They gave you to me. You're mine now."

He explained as gently as he could.

"Excuse me?" Krem managed to choke out, something in his heart seizing. There hadn't been slavery in these parts for so long, and yet the idea of it made his stomach twist. "They had no right! I didn't belong to them, and I certainly don't belong to you!"

He immediately stands, if more weakly than he had before on his protesting legs, and that anger was back, wanting to take back all the nice things he had sad. He wasn't sick, and he wasn't a slave.

"If I'm just going to be your slave, then kill me. I'm...no. I'm no ones slave."

Derrgun met Krem's new flash of anger with only a tilt of his head. He didn't seem very grateful...who wouldn't want to be his? He'd loved belonging to those who cared for him before.

"What is a slave?"

Something rolled in his stomach when the question came. The idea that he'd have to explain to his captor why what he was saying was wrong...what point did it even have.

"You don't know? Of course you don't know." He growls, suddenly pushing at that long snoot of his in anger. He's...not the most well adjusted after years in that village, all that anger and no where to go with it. Please don't kill him, Derrgun.

"A slave is a piece of property. They aren't allowed to think, aside from what you tell them. They obey, or they die, and if those are my choices, I'd rather die, thank you. I've lived my whole life trying to avoid being given off as someones wife, I'm not..." He shakes his head, wanting to scream. Today...Today was such a bad day.

"Who do you think you are that you have any right to own me, dictate my life?"

While he did hiss at the shove, he didn't snap--which was good. Because then Krem wouldn't have any arms. And with furrowed scaly brows, he soaked up this information like moss clinging to dew.

And he thought about it. He poured over his pile of grim treasures. He kept them because he liked them. He kept them safe and (somewhat) clean. They were his...but none of them were alive. This new piece of treasure was very very different.

Then, suddenly, with a green wave, the dragon turned from Krem and plunged into the depths. And for the better part of an hour, it seemed Krem was alone with his thoughts and the skeletons.

When the tell tale bubbling and scattering of wildlife that announced Derrgun's return broke the silence, the dragon surfaced and dropped half of an alligator at Krem's feet.

Krem had considered leaving when the dragon disappeared, but having never been one to swim much, he thought that if it became deep, it would be rather pathetic to drown in a swamp. Or get stuck in the mud and be eaten by water ever lurked underneath the water. In any case, he was exhausted. He considered the treasure behind him, found nothing really in his lazy searching that might be comfortable but just leaned against it and fell asleep.

He woke with a start when the few birds around suddenly took flight, and then there- right there, was a mutilated alligator. He yelled again, hoping that this might not be a regular occurrence off handedly because his throat was starting to get sore, and yet, he wasn't sure what to do with the dead thing in front of him.

"What's this for?"

Derrgun watched Krem expectantly. His spirits fell a little when Krem didn't give thanks for this MARVELOUS BOUNTY...but it was becoming more and more obvious that he wasn't nearly as ready to communicate one on one as he thought he was.

"It's very good."

He lowered his head down and made a few chomping motions with his jaws. SEE? GATOR GOOD! MAKES U STRONG, KREM.

"Stay here. No one will tie you to anything. No one will put you in a dress.

Krem squints at the dragon as he mimes eating. He looks down at the gator and back up at Derrgun. "I can't eat it unless it's cooked. It would make me sick, I'd die." He explains flatly, unsure if he could even start a fire here...it was so wet.

But, the more he talked, the more he just, stared at him, like some abused animal being called for but unmoving.

"What's the catch...what do you want from me?"

Again, the dragon had to think about it. If Krem hadn't suggested it, he wouldn't have even considered it.

"I want..." His coils bobbed slightly as though to suggest a shrug. "I like to look at you."

That probably didn't come out right. He tried again.

"I want to know more."

That definitely hadn't come out right. For minute, the absolute disgust on his face was so incredibly clear. He had gotten up, was just about to start trying to get out of the swamp, or die trying when he stopped at the next bit.

"If you...nix that first part, what is it you want to know? I'm not some fountain of knowledge. I don't even know what I could teach you..." He's practically a peasant. If his father wasn't so well known for his skill, he wouldn't have lived so long without coming to the fate he had now. But even with his fathers talents he'd never been formally educated. He knew survival tips. How to sew, things he picked up growing up in the town, but had no one really to teach him except his parents.

"I have so many questions...I used to know the answers but it was a long time ago. I was sick. I forgot. About people. How people are."

Derrgun was just a big weeb for humans.

He finally crawled out of the water, laying his long tail across it so that it led to another little cluster of mossy islands that were not full of junk and skeletons, should Krem brave the living bridge.

"They don't like you. They don't like me. They won't come here."

Krem stared hard at him as he talked. He's still unsure, he doesn't necessarily want to give in, but the idea that he could be alone without being forcibly alone, all by himself...that it was his choice. They won't come here. He closed his eyes, breathed and moved forward.

"Don't get angry with me if I can't teach you what you'd like to know. Everyone i've known aside from my father thought I was...off." He doesn't want to say sick any more. Doesn't want to say crazy. He wants to forget those words. "but...I suppose I can help you, if you'll help me."

He steps cautiously onto his tail, moving across the water slowly before he gets to the other side, glaring at the dress he can see still slightly sticking up from the water. It was stuck on something or else it would have sank to the bottom. Damned thing.

"Why be angry? If you can't do something, you can't do something."

He closed his eyes and unfurled the pathetically tiny wings that sprouted from his back and gave them a few flaps.

"I will devour anyone who sets foot in this swamp." He nodded smartly because that was TOTALLY the help Krem was talking about.

Being angry was one of the only coping mechanisms Krem had at his disposal currently. He couldn't think of why not to be angry. "Why wouldn't you be angry...If I can't hold up my end of the bargain, what good am I?" He sounds bitter, like he's had to say that before.

Though, he watches those little wings unfurl, trying to find some sort of calm. It's derailed though when Derrgun claims he'll eat anyone who approaches. "That...I'm not asking for that, really. As much as I'd love to beat the whole town to the ground, I...I'm not like them. and I don't want to be." He swallows, hard. "Scaring them away would be enough."

SWAMP PEOPLE

Nothing like a damsel in this dress

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