Nov 10, 2025
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Dragonified self-portrait
Naasir’s answering smile was nothing but fangs. “Aren’t you the little rising upstart?” His tone contained a slight tease but his posture was aggressive, his claws barely sheathed as he gripped the smooth glass shot. He lost his smile, his gaze growing flat. “Don’t think me to be one of your little flunkies that follow you in line. They’re little morsels to someone like me.”
He was content with his power alone. Status was nothing to him. The way this little shit was in his space was a blatant disrespect and it almost had him snarling. The sardonic smirk on his face told him alot.
Intelligent, strong. Was he as powerful as he was? Naasir gave him a critical glance.
“Oh I do know. You ate your father’s heart after all.”
Not many knew about that. It spoke his age, the same age as him if not older. The rich nobility only knew whispers of this and made Naasir despise him more.
“Then get lost, blue blood,” he spat. “You know how dangerous it is to be around me.”
Coverage
He did me no favors when he stripped the landscape smooth, neglecting to mention the importance of insurance (which turns out to be a myth). For a moment, I thought I’d die in the the face of such worldly concerns as stuffed mattresses and plastics but there are few deductibles in heaven and fewer bonuses in hell; saving up all your nuts in a tree distracts from the simplicity of replication and the necessity of groovy dance.