*waves to the little dragon*

Good to see you back here :)

hey ever'body :)  ::snugs::

@Sahi:  well, yeah, it's supposed to be "tales," but "tails" is a pun i'm enjoying for myself in regard to these stories :)

the very one.  i was there on sunday morning.

*pouncypouncy*

i wanna bounce, too

Queen Sanasu wrote:

i wanna bounce, too

Feel free! This is a bouncy castle, after all.

Candide's raspberry-color Beetle pulled to a stop, and Mooey awoke from her car-induced nap, rubbing open her eyes.  She knew there was a surprise in store for her today, and other than some funny clothing Candide had put on that morning, our little purple dragon friend was more than a little confused about what was to come.

Peering out the window, she saw many more people in odd dress:  puffy sleeves, corsetry, men in very tight pants.  She giggled so hard the car was soon filled with smoke, and Candide quickly opened all the doors, waving her hands and coughing.  Stepping around the car to help Mooey get out, the dragon eyed up her human.  Her shoes were simple leather flats that looked hand-made, her clothes were of - could it be? - natural fabrics, with a long, flowing burgundy skirt, a white linen shirt with billowing sleeves and a dangerous neckline, all of it held together with a tightly-laced black corset.  Mooey didn't want to know how the spilling cleavage was achieved and moved her focus on to Candide's wig for the day, dark and tumbling locks with a few braids emerging here and there.  Our little dragon friend was very confused.  Where were the sequins, the fiery hair, the shoes that were practically dragon-high?

Swishing her tail in the dust, she turned around to peruse the lot again.  Some people were a bit flashier, with more formal clothing, others were dressed as pirates, still others wearing crowns like kings and queens.  In any style, none of them were dressed like anything she'd seen in real life, only in movies about very old times... times with talk of dragons.

Her interest piqued, she turned back to Candide, only to catch her arranging herself in her corset.  Clapping her hands over her eyes, Mooey asked, "Did you make magic?  Did we go back in time?"

Candide smiled.  "Well, it's kind of like going back in time, and it can feel very magical.  You really don't know where we are?"  She crouched down to be eye to blackberry eye.  Mooey peeked between her fingers and, seeing that Candide was now decent, took her hands down from her eyes and shook her head.

"We're at the Renaissance Faire.  People come here and pretend to be from centuries ago... some better than others," the last added as she glared past Mooey at a man in full garb except for his sneakers.  "There are games and shows and crafts made in the same ways that they were made hundreds of years ago."  Mooey smiled.  This place was starting to sound like fun.  She took Candide's hand, which looked strange without its sparkling acrylic nails, and toddled toward the entrance.

Mooey stopped short.  They were approaching castle gates, flanked by tall turrets with colorful banners flying.  Something stirred in her, something from deep within her dragon knowledge.  Dragons weren't welcome in this place.  She looked at the people passing her.  They wore chainmail and carried swords.  Even without her instincts, the movies had let her know what people like this meant for a big dragon, nevermind a little one.  Her eyes began to well up as she wondered what Candide had set her up for, and she tried to break away to run back to the car.

Candide took her up in both arms and snorted through the smoke that was beginning to curl around her.  "Mooey, baby, what's wrong?"  The dragon struggled and squirmed and whined until a pimply young man in a boxy tunic came over and said, "Whoa, bitchin' puppet.  Did you get that here?"  Candide and Mooey glanced at each other.  "No," replied Candide, "I got her in Vegas."  Mooey chuckled a little through her bleary, sniffling state and relaxed a little.  Once the man was out of earshot, Mooey said, "They don't know I'm real, do they?"

"No," smirked Candide, "and no one here is going to hurt you.  This is all pretend, like a stage play that everyone gets to be part of."

Our little dragon friend glanced at the castle gates again and saw the sea of smiles milling in and out of the entryway.  She was still a little unsure, until someone commented, "Hey, lady, not for nothin', that's a fantastic costume and all, but isn't your kid hot in there?"  The dragon and her human laughed aloud; Candide set her down and Mooey said, "I want a flowerhead."

"What?"  Mooey pointed just outside the entrance at the cart of flowered headpieces, brightly colored with trailing ribbons.  Candide smiled broadly, took her hand again and the two hurried over.  More people oohed and aahed at the little purple dragon puppet/costume/robot as she tried on half a dozen rings of flowers until she found one just right, with lavender and white flowers and sea-green ribbons.  Satisfied, they gave their tickets at the booth and took that last step back in time.

Not everyone made the magic, Mooey noticed.  Some people still looked modern, while others were boisterously anachronistic.  One man lay on a platform, face down in his tankard, seeming plastered drunk.  He mumbled to himself and at random people passing by.  He popped one eye open and it locked on Mooey.  He lifted his head and pointed, "Aye, a dragon in the midst!"  Uh-oh.

Before Mooey knew what was happening to her, she was hoisted onto the platform.  She hadn't noticed the stockade until then.  She had no time to react before being locked into it.  I thought no one was going to hurt me?  She cried out and reached for Candide, who mouthed Honey, it's ok... and not only smiled reassuringly, but took out her camera from her bosom and began snapping pictures.

Another man stepped onto the platform and announced to the building crowd, "Ladies and gentlemen, we seem to have captured a dragon just as she stormed the castle gates!  You're all safe now!  However, the Queen's guards must needs be paid for their efforts, so we beseech you, good people, to bid for possession of her upon her release.  Do I hear an opening bid?"  Mooey began to thrash and snort in the stockade, and the crowd grew ever-impressed at the quality of the special effects.

"A kidney stone!"  offered the drunk man into his tankard.

"We have a kidney stone, do I have a higher bid?"  He pointed into the crowd.

"Tuppence!"  came a shout from the back.

"Tuppence!  One better?"

"Two kidney stones!"  came the muffling from the front of the platform.

"Do I hear higher?"

"That woman's purse!"  The drunk pointed into the audience as he outbid himself.

"A chicken!"  The crowd voiced their awe, and the little dragon tucked her ears to her head and let smoke drizzle from her snout resignedly.

"Ah, a high bid of one chicken!" intoned the melodramatic auctioneer.  "Do I--"

"Three kidney stones!"  And a belch.

"Dung!"  offered a very filthy man in a green costume, and held up a handful of such.

"A whole kidney!" remarked a woman in modern dress.  Mooey raised her eyebrows.

"I believe we have our winning bid!"  The people applauded, and the auctioneer bade the woman to come up to the platform.  He held her hands behind her back with one hand and took a dagger from his belt in another.

"Nooooooo!!!!" cried Mooey as the man aimed the dagger for the woman's waist.  But it was too late.  One deft movement and the woman was let go.  Our little dragon squinched her eyes shut and held her breath.  There were no screams, just some more giggling and clapping.  She felt the stockade being lifted from her neck.  Popping open one eye, she saw no blood, no kidney, no woman writhing on the platform.  Just the drunk, Candide, and the auctioneer leering at her from the right.  The woman who bid for her release had even left them.  Mooey ran down and leapt into Candide's arms.

The auctioneer caught up to them before they quite stepped away and broke character long enough to ask, "How did you do this?" and gestured toward the dragon.  Candide smiled.  "A little magic," she said mysteriously, and walked off with a wink.

After coming to terms with her near-death experience, Mooey squirmed to be let down to walk.  She smelled good food, old wood, blacksmithy, and confused hippies wearing patchouli.  She heard chattering in accents, the rustling of complicated clothing, the jingling of silky bellydancing attire.  There was a lot here, and more and more, Candide was proving to be right, it's all like a big play, and she wanted to be part of it.  "All the world's a stage," Mooey remembered from somewhere...

Looking about, Mooey saw a booth selling small shields with different animals on them, unicorns... gryphons... and dragons!  She bumbled over and, just at little dragon height, was a black shield with a purple dragon.  She took it from the wall and brought it to Candide, thumping her tail endearingly on the ground.  The wench at the booth smiled.  "It's perfect."

"Yes, it is," sighed Candide.  They left for the next booth with Mooey fending off imaginary knights with her soul-shakingly fierce, spray-painted-plywood little purple dragon shield.  Grrrr!  Auction me off, will you? 

They saw wonderful things at this faire, handmade cloaks and tunics, hand-tooled leather accessories, sparkling silver jewelry.  They stepped into one booth where dragons made of fragile twists of glass hung from the walls and ceiling.  "Oh, how lovely," cooed Candide, looking at one in an ethereal blue.  Mooey, however, worked her snout into a snit.  She trundled over to the counter.  "Excuse me, mister."  The man in the big floppy feathered hat leered over the side.  "Good morrow, lass, how may I be helping ye?"

"I don't see any little purple dragons," came the matter-of-fact reply.

The man in the very silly big floppy feathered hat chuckled and said, "Well, you're right, I don't believe we have any."

"Why aren't there any little purple dragons?"  The tone became more grave and smoke began to waft.

The man in the really stupid-looking floppy feathered hat hedged and fiddled with his hands.  "I don't rightly know, I--"

"Do you have something against little purple dragons?"  Smoke began to pour with fervor and the man in the entirely idiotic floppy feathered hat began to whimper.

"Oh, Mooey, look, this one's almost like a blue-violet when you look at it in just the right light!"  Candide swooped over and smiled much too broadly at the man.  "I'll take that lovely very-nearly purple dragon from up there.  Quickly," she added, hoping the man would stop being so slow about catching on.

Snapping out of it, the man nodded and took the step-stool over to the painfully-obviously blue dragon near the entrance and carefully packaged it up, one eye never leaving the glaring, offended dragon.  He made a mental note to order a dozen purple dragons the next time he had to replenish his inventory.  He handed Candide the bag and bid her a good day.  Mooey gave one last meaningful snort over her shoulder before exiting.  Candide waited until they were two booths away before she breathed again.

Brandishing her shield at anyone who moved past, Mooey bumbled behind Candide as the browsed along.  They tried on bellydancing wraps covered in clinkety coins, and practiced shaking their hips.  Candide bought a new corset made of a silver and purple dragon brocade, and Mooey puffed with pride both at how beautiful Candide looked in it and how honored she herself was over the presence of purple dragons here.  They ate frozen oranges and watched a swordfight on a field that was made to look like a chessboard.

One tent displayed what looked like a big bunch of branches that had rotted hollow through the middle.  "Those are didgeridoos," Candide explained, and motioned for Mooey to watch a man who was playing one.  "They're a musical instrument used by the Aborigines in Australia."  Now, even Mooey knew this had nothing to do with castles and knights and dragons; Candide read her face and nodded.  "I know, it doesn't fit, but they appeal to the same type of crowd."  Mooey listened to the earthy, growling hum-buzz.  She began to appreciate the appeal; it stirred something ancient in her.  Looking over, she saw one that was all of two feet long.  Moving closer to it, she saw that it had a stylized dot painting of a lavender serpent.  She watched the man at the booth, then picked up the dinjamanoo, held it like he did, and blew into it as hard as she could.

The hooting echo she produced sent herself flying backward, sent the man out of his chair and sent several other patrons jumping straight up out of their skins, all of which in turn sent all the other dimsumazoos clattering to the ground.  The man who had been playing so beautifully stood up and loomed over the now cowering little dragon, who clutched the little purple dibbamaboo to her.  Mooey heard Candide call her by her full name, and that's when she knew she was in trouble.

"This kid yours?"  The man jerked his thumb toward our bumbling little friend.

"I am so sorry, sir."  She fished through her bodice for her money, peeled off the amount on the tag for the instrument-turned-weapon, and hied thee hence away from the tent with the little purple collection in tow.

"Kid, I need a drink."  She led Mooey over to a refreshment stand and requested a mead.  Sweet like nectar and sneakily potent, Candide let it trickle down her throat.  She was already warm in the sun and her clothing, which was already binding, and she felt herself heat inwardly.  Her skin felt as if it was growing more supple by the sip, and she decided that while mead was a very good thing, perhaps she'd had enough.  She looked down and saw two huge, welling eyes staring up at her, being rocked back and forth by the big, tripping feet that were attached somewhere at the bottom.

She sighed.  "Baby, I know.  I know you're sorry.  Can't you relax?"

"I've been through quite a lot already today."

"Indeed."  Candide looked at the last couple sips of mead in her glass.  "Drink this."  She handed it to the daiquiri-loving little dragon, and prayed to whatever available deity who might listen that it would help calm Mooey down.  Sweet strawberry-and-honeyed-wine smoke emerged in filligree curls and our dragon friend became visibly calmer.

Wandering back into the shoppes, Candide found silver and gold spirals to twist into her hair while the little dragon, drunk with mead and sun, tottered at her feet and swished her tail approvingly at Candide’s choices.  A wooden cart rumbled past on the dirt path, and Mooey sobered quickly.  “Pickle!”  She bumbled zig-zaggedly after. 

Candide made a quick rummage through her bodice, paid for her hair decorations, and lunged in the general direction of our purple friend.  When she caught up, a bemused pickle man was crouched between his cart and Mooey, having himself a chuckle at her puckered face.  Looking up at Candide and holding a pickle nearly the size of her own arm, she smiled as best she could and licked at the pickle juice that poured down her arm.  The pickle man looked up and smiled as well, and Candide could only be charmed by the scene.  “Full-sours,” he said, and Mooey nodded enthusiastically.  Laughing, Candide requested one for herself and tried not to be too suggestive with it while chatting up the pickle man. 

Needing to get on with his route, the pickle man bid them a reluctant good day, and dragon and drag queen ventured on, still sucking seeds from their teeth.  Not too far ahead, a woman in wench garb bellowed the announcement of her wares. 

DRRRRRRRRRRAGOOOOOOONNNNNN! 

Mooey stopped cold and looked wide-eyed at Candide, fearing another capture or worse.  Candide took a quick look and noticed that the woman had a strange little friend on her shoulder.  Candide smiled and hoisted Mooey so she could see shoulder-high, and her eyes grew wide again, this time with wonder.  She had on her shoulder what did, in fact, look to be a dragon.  “Closer!” cried the anxious blackberry dragon.

Candide pushed her way through the crowd and stopped in front of the other woman with the dragon on her shoulder, only there was much disappointment to be had.  Mooey looked at this other dragon and saw empty eyes and an unbreathing snout.  Candide saw the control cable in the woman’s hand.  The dyed feathers, the fixed expression, there was no question:  this was merely a toy.  The fake-dragon wench made a face full of wonder and envy at this other, better “puppet.”

“That’s fantastic,” she said to Candide.  “Did you make that?”

“Her.  I’m a her,” said Mooey.  “Your dragon isn’t real.”  Candide’s hair stood on end.  This tone began the same as the one toward the man in the feathered hat.  Muzzling Mooey with her free hand, Candide gave a twinkling laugh and moved past the now scowling puppetress and onto the next set of vendors.

Setting Mooey down, Candide found herself enchanted by a collection of candle holders and incense burners, all made of brightly-colored clay and each featuring a small dragon to guard its contents.  This place had dragons in nearly every color, including not one, but many shades of purple.  Looking up and around, she saw dragons to hang from the wall and to set atop a bookcase to peer over the edge.  Delighted, Candide began to select a few for herself and for the little dragon she loved so well.

Then came the blood-curdling shriek.  It wasn’t from the vendor or from another visitor, but from Mooey herself.  Turning toward the entrance, Candide saw a horrified Mooey looking up and pointing.  “Let them out!  Let them out now!”  Turning her view from the dragon’s tear-stained face to the direction of her hand, Candide now saw what upset the little dragon so.  Hanging around the doorway were various small cages, some set with glass, some not, and all containing the same small clay dragons.  Mooey wailed for her tiny brothers and sisters and continued to demand their freedom.  The woman behind the counter looked as though she didn’t know whether to laugh, scream back or demand they both leave.  Mouthing her apologies to the vendor, Candide stepped toward the tearful purple dragon and crouched down to hold her.

“She can’t do that to them,” Mooey sniffled into Candide’s bosom.

“Baby, they’re only clay.  They’re not real like you.”  Mooey shook her head in her disbelief.  Cupping the streaky little face in her hands, Candide turned Mooey’s gaze up to hers.  “If I pick you up to show you, will you promise to be calm so you can really see?”

Mooey glared angrily at the vendor and sadly up at the cages, then nodded at her wise mother, at her caring and gentle face.  Candide wouldn’t let another dragon be sad in a cage.  She did trust her.  She grew calm and raised her arms to be hoisted up.

Once eye to eye with them, Mooey saw that Candide was right.  They had faces that were even more vacant than the puppets, and they did not move, not one bit.  Mooey tucked her ears to her head and wiped her eyes.  “I’m sorry,” she said guiltily to both Candide and the woman at the counter.

Candide petted her head.  “It’s ok, love.  I know you only wanted them to be happy, right?”  Sniffling and nodding, Mooey took another glance around at the cages.  Candide smiled to herself, and did have to remember that she was already planning on bringing at least one of these home.  “Tell you what.  Do you want to pick out one of them to take home?”

The wide eyes began to well up again and the little purple dragon immediately pointed to another littler purple dragon hanging just above her head.  When the vendor came to take it down, Candide understood exactly what sparked our little dragon friend to become so upset.  This dragon was of very nearly the exact same violet skin with the same kind eyes as Mooey herself.  Candide was glad to take this one home.

Leaving the very frazzled and confused woman with the rest of her dragons, the pair continued on, however much more weary themselves.  It had been a long day.  “What say you, little dragon, shall we go home?”

Looking up from her new friend in the little wire cage, Mooey nodded and they turned to navigate their way back to the castle gates.  Not without stopping for distractions, however; Candide found jewelry to pore over and Mooey listened to minstrels play up on a balcony while a supple woman dressed in scarves and clinking finger cymbals undulated down on the street below them.  Mooey became entranced and Candide found herself almost envious and made a mental note to take up bellydancing lessons when she got back home.  Applauding in appreciation, the two moved on and Candide found a display of exquisite harlequin masks.  She stepped into the booth to admire the selection and to talk with the artisan.  She had just about made up her mind when she heard another heart-wrenching scream.  What could Mooey have gotten into now?

Rushing out into the alley, Candide saw people running from a booth across the way.  She looked up at the sign:  St. George’s Dragon Orphanage.  This could only be bad.

Pushing her way into the booth, Candide saw a snarling, angry dragon, looking twice her usual size, lashing her tail and spewing smoke at the vendors she had cowering in the corner.  Mooey had looked into the little plastic cages.  These dragons had life in their eyes.  They moved and breathed.  Candide looked into the cage and saw anoles, the same kind she used to get for a few bucks at the petshop.  But Mooey didn’t know that.  Even if she did, at this moment she would not care.

“LET.  THEM.  GO.”  She growled.  The vendors looked up at Candide, who had come fully in and was standing directly behind the scaly ball of fury.

“Mooey,” she said gently.

Whipping around, the furious little dragon quickly shrank back to her normal size and began to weep anew.  “Don’t you see?  These ones are real!”

“Baby, I do see.  But we can’t let them go.  They need people to take care of them.  Look, they’re so tiny.”  Crouching yet again today, she was infinitely glad she was wearing flats and a long, loose skirt.  “This place is an orphanage.  It’s where little dragons can find new families who will love them, just like I love you.”

Our little dragon friend looked solemnly around the booth at all the other little dragon friends in their cages.  Someone to love them…

“Then we need to take them home.  All of them.”

Candide stifled a laugh.  “We can’t take them all.  Even if we could, dragons make people happy.  You’ve seen all the different things with dragons today; people love dragons.  And people will love these dragons, too.”

Mooey took another look around.  She saw dozens of cages, big and small.  There were only children and twins, and even cages full of eggs.  Lots and lots of chances for people to be made happy by bringing a dragon into their home.  The idea that so many people could be made happy with a dragon finally brought a smile to her face.  The vendors sighed their relief and began to emerge from the corner.  “We need to take one,” stated the purple dragon.  Candide expected this and smiled.  “Absolutely.”

Together they selected a little green dragon in a little purple-lidded cage.  Mooey listened carefully while the vendor explained how to take care of her.  Watching the tiny dragon twist her head from side to side, the bigger dragon smiled.  She loved this little dragon.  She was happy to be bringing her into her home.  She wanted so badly to hug her, but knew she was too tiny.  She hugged Candide instead.

Having finally made their way back to the car, the weary troupe arranged themselves in the back with the little purple dragon buckled into one seat and the littler green dragon’s cage buckled into the other.  Candide plunked herself into the driver’s seat and sighed, thankful for its softness and for it just being there.  She wiggled her toes inside her shoes before stepping on the gas.

She looked into the rear view mirror and saw that Mooey was already beginning to doze.  Her eyes lit up as she watched her odd little daughter, a delight she never expected in her life and certainly never would have expected in the package she came in.  Candide saw, too, the little green dragon, also beginning to doze, and knew that she would be loved quite well.

thanks for reading :)

I'm saving this for tomorrow, when I'm bored at work!

Brilliant!

Makes me long for december, when the midwinter fair will come along again.

Yalahii.

::dusts::

*cough*

i dunno if i'm gonna post a story again soon, but i hate it being so far down in the pile lol.

*joins in the bouncing*

Well you could just bounce in every once in a while without telling a story. I always check on this topic when I see it in active topics. :)

Yalahii.

*Hands Mooeykins a roll of duct tape*

*bounces*

Flying without Pixie Dust(tm). Whee!

*cartwheels through the air*