Ruler, Tyrant, Dictator

INDIE SELECTIVE GENERAL SCALES ASK/RP

[sharpclaaw]

(@wizard-of-night )

A small bunny walks in, feeling tense as he looks into the darkness. Geez.. It's desolate here. That's usually a bad sign. But, what exactly lurks here..?

The sound of his weight beats against the grassy earth as General Scales makes his way towards Cape Claw's hidden fortress. The dense foliage of the coast's jungle giving way, practically parting before his large frame and revealing the imposing structure that stands as a testament to the sharpclaw's dominion over the lands of Sauria.

Its stone walls rise defiantly as they reach out to kiss the Saurian night sky. The ancient building showcasing the signature crest and proud emblem of his clan, of the sharpclaw. The many banners hang and fly in the humid breeze, each one bearing the weight and scars of many untold histories and battles. The scent of damp earth and tropical flora fills the air, mingling with the sharp tang of salt from the nearby sea. Scales's Waterfall, as his mother has come to name the landmark, crashes thunderously nearby in a magnificent display of nature's power. The cascade of crystal clear blue water descends from a cliff high above, its waters tumbling and frothing before pooling into a beautiful river that snakes along the coast, eventually feeding Sauria's sparkling ocean. Moonlight dances on the surface of the calm river, effectively casting phermeral ripples that shimmer like liquid silver. It is a sight that never fails to captivate the large dinosaur; a reminder of the untamed beauty that surrounds his tribe, even in the heart of their powerful dominion.

Scales's keen eyes, accustomed to the darkest of nights, pierce through the jungle's thick shadows, effectively catching glimpses of the various nocturnal creatures and wildlife that scurry about the planet at this hour. The crashing waves in the distance providing a steady, rhythmic undertone, however it's quickly interrupted by the sound of an unusual and unfamiliar rustling -- the sound, normally considered unassuming when located so deep within the planet's nature, stands out to the sharpclaw general. This noise was not the typical hopping and flopping of a Bafomdad or a Duster. No, this was something much different.

That's when a low rumble begins in the depths of the large dinosaur's chest, it's a guttural growl that seems to vibrate the very air around them. It ripples through the fortress walls, reverberating like an ominous warning. The muscles in his jaw tense, the corners of his lips curl upward, revealing the dangerously sharp edges of his huge teeth. It's a chilling sight, the grin that holds the promise of danger. As his growling intensifies, it transforms into a roar--a primal, thunderous declaration of dominance towards the invader he has detected. The sound is a shockwave; a literal physical force that moves the very stone of the building, rattling loose debris and stirring up the night's air. It is a roar that speaks of power, of a predator laying claim to his prize...

And that prize? A lost little bunny feeling around in the dark.

[sharpclaaw]

The large reptile remains decidedly separated from the festivities within Sargasso’s popular lounge. He’s leaned against the overly-waxed table in the farthest corner of the space-bar. His intimidating demeanor was useful in that it kept most strangers from attempting to make conversation with him or from trying to include him in the celebration that occurred closer to the bar counter; the usual faces in the mix: the lupine, the chimpanzee, a few toads, the felines and the vixens... 

His grip is strong against the stein. Thick dinosaurian claws meet the glass and the ex-general busies himself with pressing his thumb into the container. The glass chips as it gives way underneath the pressure of his claw, cracks spraying out from the center of the damage he inflicts, almost resembling a spiderweb of damage.

Twenty years ago.

Two full decades have passed since General Scales made his attempt to usurp the Gatekeepers of their guardian roles. He hadn’t realized so much time had passed since his banishment from Dinosaur Planet. 

Those wretched creatures. They had certainly learned the hard way that without Scales’s power, they were all weak and hopeless; the subsequent invasion of the Aparoids -- those vile insects -- wiped out an embarrassingly large number of inhabitants of Sauria. Surely, had General Scales not been so far away from his home planet, the pitiful tribes would have been protected, and even prosperous under the sharpclaw’s impressive strength. The crisis wouldn’t have made its way to Sauria in the first place. 

Alas, Scales was no longer a general. He no longer led--and won--wars. He was now a rogue. A quiet man who completed odd, violent, and illegal jobs for modest pay. People sometimes disappeared when Scales was around, sometimes he delivered messages, sometimes personal effects went missing. Sometimes all of the above... and sometimes, he did other things. 

Scales supposes he’s doing pretty well all things considered. But the idea that he’s now a face lost in the bustling ant colony of Sargasso Space Station eats at him. He wasn’t meant to fall in line, Scales was meant to lead that line.

A loud snort of air through large nostrils as the thought enters his resentful mind. The stein finally gives way, glass shattering inside his scaled grip. Hand, and table now wet and speckled with shards of broken glass. 

[sharpclaaw]

(off camera): let me see what you have! Scales: A KNIFE!!!!!

[sharpclaaw]

Me: this edible ain’t shit Also me, five minutes later:

[sharpclaaw]

A low, guttural rattle. “A man could do a lot with eight thousand credits.” 

[sharpclaaw]

HICOH, K0HUDK, UDT TASKUKEH EV DINOSAUR PLANET....

[sharpclaaw]

Verrrrrrrrrrry much love the inclusion of Galleon Raid in his “Final Battle” theme. 

[sharpclaaw]

When Do You Gaze At Your Soulmate?

when they're working

see this is what you love most. their eyes light up and no one can do it quite like them. whether they are a fighter or a healer. whether they are full of grace and gentle poise, or brute strength and wild energy, you love them when they are at their purest form. raw and unfettered. unadulterated by social cues and careful masks we all wear. when they are just them, trusting their instincts, using their experience, relying on the skills they earned. this is when you heart swells with pride. and you can never decide if you want to interrupt them and draw them into your arms with a hungry, appreciative kiss. or if you could sit there and quietly observe them for hours with more satisfaction than anything physical could bring.

[sharpclaaw]

The large reptile remains solitary in his usual corner of the lounge; at this point most of the patrons either knew to stay away from him through his reputation, and those that didn’t could still acknowledge the danger they’d subject themselves to should they approach him. General Scales is a bitter dinosaur -- especially on this day. 

The anniversary of THAT day.

Scales refuses to allow himself to continue down that line of thought and with a frustrated huff, a large hand takes hold of his drink and all but spills it down his own gullet. The stein is returned to the table with a slight thunk, and a harsh breath blows through his nostrils. He chooses to occupy himself; red-and-yellow orbs locate the scuffed and aged hooks, the replacement for his missing hand. Scaled fingers run across the once-sharp metal and soon he loses himself witin the desire, a daydream, the unreachable potential of an upgrade. Oh, if only he had the credits -- the power he could wield with a gadget more ... custom to the rest of the Lylat System.

With a swift movement, the tips of his hooks are sunk into the over-waxed, filthy table that he remains seated at. Damaging the surface, he idle-mindedly digs deeper into the wood, watching quietly as it splinters and gives way to the strength of his hook hand.  If only the general possessed something more modern... then those horrible little wretches back home would beg for his forgiveness for their errors and horrible misdeeds; they would cower in the wake of his rage, and they would all bow to him because of it! 

[sharpclaaw]

thebastardmeteocrusherpilot​:

“How honest he is…” Galaxicos thinks, surrounding the microphone cable. planning to take a break from his karaoke, the ape keeps looking at Scales. As soon as he mentioned his siblings and his father… Galaxicos was afraid to think if thosere latives were still alive, especially that last one, if it was possible to imagine that he would be bigger than this son of his.

Thinking of something to say, he watched him take the glass from his table, with that hand or metal claws that made him nervous. He shivered a little, but he didn’t let go of the good (fake) look at the reptile. He search for words to say before replying politely to Scales, “Well, I guess that shouldn’t matter too much, right? To yourself, I mean, if I may be honest.” Sure! honesty! “Mutt or not, you have grown well and strong for sure. All your men must be amazed that you are the tallest man on your planet.”

A little flattery won’t do anything wrong.

The stein remains in his grip, lifted off of the table. He takes a moment to allow the statement of the chimpanzee to settle before he lifts his drink back to his lips and he takes another hearty sip. The liquor being served wasn’t exactly strong enough for the large reptilian's tolerance, and unless things change, that means he will be spending much of the evening trying to make up for the fact. 

The chimpanzee’s reassurances draw a laugh from Scales, who already feels quite confident with his status as a half-breed. “You are correct! My size and strength commanded much respect amongst my other tribe members. It wasn’t until the fox landed that I actually began to see any true resistance.” 

[sharpclaaw]

time to torture myself 

[sharpclaaw]

thebastardmeteocrusherpilot​:

“Heh, well, they all barely reach my neck” Galaxicos also offers a smile also out of pride. The reality is that he likes to be a taller person than normal. He feeling delighted to be able to look intimidating and dangerous in the eyes of other people. Even if he came across Venomians or Lylatians taller than himself, the ape always found a way to lower them for his sadistic pleasure.

Although this time, there is a contrary case between Scales and him. The size of the reptile was not normal for the ape and being so close to him began to feel like a small helpless prey. Every time Scales opened his mouth, Galaxicos focused his gaze on the dinosaur’s sharp teeth and horrific fantasies crossed his mind. Without forgetting that metallic claw that replaces Scales’s hand that is sure that the reptile could damage anyone who mocks him with a single blow. He wonders how O'donnell managed to become “friends” with this frightening creature.

“Tell me, are you the tallest of all your kind?”

“Yes, currently.” Scales responds casually; situating his weight within his seat as he becomes more aware of his own physicality. “Sharpclaw come in many unique sizes and we have the potential to grow quite big. My siblings are also very large as well, though because we do not share the same father, I still stand taller.”

The larger reptile’s hand wraps awkwardly around the stein made for a grip much smaller than his own. The glass totally dwarfed by Scales’s huge palm and completely engulfed by his long fingers, it almost disappears in his hand as it’s lifted to his scaled lips. 

“Though I suppose that’s not a fair statement. I am one of a kind. Half-blood. A mutt.” 

[sharpclaaw]

pilotofstorm​:

He let out a loud yelp when his neck was grabbed tightly, enough to spark his fear up from the relaxed and cheerful state he had just seconds ago.“Lemme go, lemme go, LEMME GO!!” He cried as he instinctively tried to kick the lizard away. He doesn’t even know if he’s doing anything, all he feels is muscle! JUST MUSCLE!

And boy, did that scare this lil’ drunk frog.

Simple rumble from deep inside of the oversized reptile; air passes through the nearly-sealed space between Scales’s lips formed by a tightened, frowning jaw and though he prepares a threatening bellow to further validate his warning, his better judgement tells him that it’s best not to bother. Yes, General Scales is a dinosaur, and yes, General Scales is most certainly a force to be reckoned with... But even despite his physical advantages, it is clear to the foreigner that the dart frog -- as much as an exhibitionist as he has made himself out to be -- is a friend to most of the members of tonight’s party. Scales is strong, but even despite his swollen pride, he knows he most definitely couldn’t take on a mob of this size.

...Alcohol notwithstanding. 

The instinctual kicking and squirming from the nude Skippy is an anticipated response, and in truth it is one that the dangerous reptile is already rather accustomed to. The amphibian has now been reluctantly inducted into a group of people that the general has felt compelled and practically welcomed to manhandle and funnily enough, he’ll likely never know how close Skippy is to another one of his victims: the particular animal girl who seemed hellbent on weaseling herself into his interest of unifying that dinosaur planet under his ruling, iron fist.

The intoxicated dart frog is abruptly dropped; three-finger reptile hand -- complete with a set of intimidating claws that rivals that of the Lord of Sargasso -- releases its grip on Skippy’s neck and Scales allows the smaller man to fall to the floor with what the tyrant deems as a satisfying sound of impact. 

“You insist upon being taken seriously and treated like an adult, yet you operate as childish and out of control as you possibly can. It’s clear to me that either you fail to hold this -- this swill that you animals refer to as actual liquor or you are so deluded that you don’t have a clue just how foolishly you present yourself.” 

“I might be foreign to your world, boy, but at least my understanding of social etiquette is not so poor that I feel it tactful to behave as invasively, obnoxiously, and offensively as I possibly can towards those that are not reciprocating such idiocy!” His good hand is slammed against the counter, the sharp curl of his hook hand slightly carves a chunk out of the false marble of the surface while he leans his weight into his wrists. The reptile shoots up from his seat, now towering over the newly released amphibian. Voice seems to escalate in volume as he continues. 

“You are a lunatic, Skippy! And I am through tolerating your pathetic behavior! Your friends might cater to it but I don’t have to!” 

[sharpclaaw]

namelessnobodyrpblog​:

W-w-we .. “The young man stops. Trembling in all his fur. He takes a breath and wants to talk to the reptile again” well, thank you very much, sir! “

Slowly, with a few awkward movements of his hands and legs, the catboy sits down next to the huge sharpclaw. He rests his hands on his knees, paying attention to nothing. He doesn’t say or gesture anything. he only has his claws on his leg, moving his fingers as if he were playing a piano.

Uhm, I don’t know if Mr. Godzilla likes his company.

"Are you new here?” He asks to break the awkward silence in both of them. It was a sudden question.

He turns back towards his drink, a settling breath of air bushing through large nostrils as he forces himself to become more comfortable with the situation. This was the point, after all, having climbed into one of the counter’s empty barstools. Perhaps not keeping eye contact would draw some confidence in the defeated dinosaur. 

“I suppose you could say that.” He says rather quickly, hand to beer stein, then, beers stein to scaled lips. “Yes, I am -- new -- here.” He seems rather stilted in his speaking, as though perhaps such an admission wasn’t something the reptile was proud of. 

“I am to expect you are as well?” He questions a the glass hits the counter with a thud, even despite the noticeable effort he takes in protecting such a delicate glass from shattering under his strength. 

[sharpclaaw]

pilotofstorm​:

“You’re..”

Woah, those are some sharp teeth. It startled him enough to say some gibberish! While it definitely is extremely muffled by his drunken state, Skippy did sense at least the slightest bit of danger in that sentence. “Wooah, ya sound like you’re super strong..!” He said quietly in awe. Though, he immediately brightened up again.

“I’m kinda curious ‘bout how ya would trample my ass anyway, hahaha!! We should spar! Oh, no let’s play a game! I bet ya know some fun games from ya hometown! Hic!” With a leap, he ended up sitting on the counter, swinging his feet joyfully. “Name’s Skippy!! Hehe, What 'bout ya, Ol’ timer?”

Without warning, a dangerously sharp grip meets the amphibian’s neck. He recognizes, in his grip, just how easy it would be to snap such little bones without too much effort. He knows he’s drawn the attention of others with such a rash action -- but certainly the state of the dart frog would be a perfect justification of a response so flashy.

Muscles move underneath scales, he remains wordless as he lifts Skippy--bare ass and all--from the bar counter. Certainly such an unsanitary action would be justification enough for the large reptile as he removes Skippy from the counter and places him on his feet to the floor nearby. As much effort as it takes to hold back, Scales doesn’t dare puncture claws into the flesh of the younger, louder individual, as tempting as it is. He was trying to fit in after all, not be rushed out by a mob of angry drunks for harming one of the regulars.

“Walk away.” He demands with a threatening urgency, harsh red-and-yellow eyes pouring into the smaller Skippy as though he’d been staring his next meal. “This is your only warning.”

[sharpclaaw]

thebastardmeteocrusherpilot​:

“fireweed?” The ape wonders as he fiddles with the microphone. He does not miss the detail that the reptile is smiling in … a particular way. Although he could also notice an expression of displeasure on his part. He then supposes that reacting in such surprise and fear was unpleasant for this newcomer. Although, well, Aaron Galaxicos has never liked reptiles in his entire life.

“Well, O'Donnell is always in full view of any guest and person at the Sargasso. You get used to that later..” Shit, I should get used to that shit too, he thinks.

“Oh, and I’m so sorry for my reaction. It was a mistake on my part.” He follows his gentleman face with the Sharpclaw. It was certain that Scales did not fully know his other side of bastard, or that’s what Galaxicos thinks for himself “The truth is that I am always surprised to see people taller than me.” He laughs trying to look nice.

The last thing he wants is to have trouble with the giant reptile.

While it was true that General Scales was not socially adept within this side of Lylat, this cluster of planets he had only been only so recently acquainted with outside of traditional sharpclaw legends about the stars in the sky -- he could still recognize a fake smile when he saw it. Perhaps politics in any form still functioned on basic principles: false friendships, showmanship, how well others could be out-acted. 

“He is a... notable presence in this room: loud and surrounded by many smiling faces. But he seems to stay in his corner and I am thankful for that.” He speaks without regarding his personal grudge against the lupine -- perhaps he could find a friend in the chimpanzee, particularly in their shared reluctance towards the so-called “fireweed” that Scales had labeled O’Donnell as. 

The final remark from Galaxicos draws another grin from Scales, only due to the stroke of his ego. The size of a sharpclaw had always been and indication of pride, and the fact that the reptile remains the tallest in this packed room, even with all its colorful characters, draws a certain gratification from the general that he would feed on as long as possible. 

“Are you normally the largest in this... rowdy place?”

[sharpclaaw]

thebastardmeteocrusherpilot​:

The song that was playing stopped and it was time to start another song. The chimp was satisfied that the public liked his karaoke and felt ready to choose and start singing a new song.

“Ah!” But just noticing Scales’s presence made him jump and stay quiet. An awkward smile greets the reptile as a drop of sweat runs down his forehead.

“Oh … hi, nice to see you here … sir ..”

Galaxicos did not recall having a pleasant encounter with this giant reptile for a while. He couldn’t even know his name.

“Well, Happy New Year! I didn’t know O'Donnell invited you!”

Turning towards the karaoke stage upon being greeted by its usual suspect, the large reptile offers a frown at such a nervous greeting. He no longer commands the respect he did back on Sauria, and such a fact always drives nails into his wound when he is faced with it. Hard lips seem to form a zig-zag, unable to perform and offer a smile to such insolence: how dare this fleshy, fuzzy, meatbag ask the general to look up at him, as though he dared demand such glory and regard from someone that could cripple him with a simple squeeze of his claws. 

“The... living fireweed did not invite me. I showed up on my own accord. In truth, I am seeking to avoid him, though his presence seems to engulf this entire establishment. I can’t escape him.”