Day 16

Life is strange. Life is beautiful. Life is-is

Boring!

This is what runs the mind of Attea. A Rock Eater.

The Rock Eaters: vicious, cold-blooded, underhanded warmongers and oldest monsters in history. They have a thick hard shell that makes them exceptionally resistant to physical and magical attacks, making it necessary to deal with attacks to the mouth, feet, between its plates, or to the eye to damage it. For some odd reason, they have Brooklyn accents.

Rock Eaters typically stay underground. The creature's fight-or-flight mechanism takes over when they feel creatures on the ground above them or when they feel creatures using the tunnels they have left behind. Start combat by creating an earthquake, making an intense but highly localized tremor rip the ground.

This Rock eater is different from most of its kind.

This one resides in an old house.

Its age showed; Sun-bleached - rain-eroded stone blocks, cracked windows, shuttered by creaking, rotting mysterious wood. A roof with more tiles dislodged or having fallen than those retaining their place. Cobwebs-a-plenty decorated corners, nooks, and crannies around the entirety of the structure. In conclusion, to any individual who ever laid eyes upon it in passing, a building deserted and left to its decrepit fate.

Quite to the contrary, however. As spread by those curious enough to explore the grounds, sightings of indiscernible shadows and silhouettes and the sounds of chittering jaws led to beliefs of an unwelcome infestation being the cause of its abandonment. And though there was truth in such, it was not without inaccuracies.

In one of the web-laden rooms on the bottommost tier of the three-storied castle abode, an off-white, uneven ball bounced across an aged, frayed rug that covered creaking floorboards. The hurried skittering of eight razor-sharp, crimson-tipped legs followed. A spider easily matching the size of an average dag chased after the bundle of webbing with a perceived eagerness unexpected from an arachnoid such as itself. It pounced, trapping its target between its body and a peeling wall, and sank its jaws into the makeshift ball that was quickly up to a third its size.

"Such a good girl… Now return, thy darling."

"Great more spiders," muttered Attea, creeped out by this.

It reacted to the soft, silken tones of the woman who spoke to it. With impressive strength, the ball was lifted and carried towards a small table situated in the center of the room, then scaled it by clambering up the nearest leg. Reaching the top, it scurried across the surface over to where a pale woman sat. She was dressed in a rose-red, backless dress and a fine black shawl draped her shoulders. Her legs crossed languidly, and her head rested on the back of one palm. Stark red hair flowed down to frame her exquisite features, swaying slightly from the cool night air that swept in through an ajar window. The corners of her dainty lips quirked into an adoring smile upon watching the spider dropping the bundle by her resting hand, looking up at her expectantly.

The strange woman moved her hand over, the spider tracking it as it came down to gently and lovingly scratch its carapace. It lowered itself closer to the old oaken table, pleased chittering rising from its chelicerae from the received affection.

"Who's my favorite girl?" The Coven beauty asked, leaning down to whisper lovingly. "It is you, yes..."

"Mustcha do that?" asked the female Rock Eater.

"Young one art mine own babies scaring thee?" The witch asked, knowing that it does.

"Is Evelynn back yet, or what?!" Attea spoke, not answering her question. "Yuh coven witch bitches said yuh make me strong and I can get revenge against da bastard dragon fawh killin' me pa! Okay...?? Thought I should thank him fawh killin' my weak of fadder."

A smooth, seductive voice slithered in. "Thee very much wanteth thy ard'r. thee not?"

"Shut it and hurry up wit' de damn ritual! Okay? The soonuh I kill da croc bastard de soonuh I get happy! Okay? And fawh de last time stop sayin' I like de crocodile mudder fucker! And for the fucks sake, stop talking like that!!!" The former dark worm said to Coven witches.

A coven is a group or gathering of witches who work spells in tandem.

In the old days. The Old Gods, powerful primordial entities, seek their return from beyond the grave. Championing their cause, the Coven, renewed by ancient magic, is the Old God's patrons and hope to raise the gods back to their thrones.

Evelynn and Circe laugh at their newest member.

"Ooh, you're so hot when you're angry." Evelynn cooed, dropping the old god speech pattern.

Attea growls at the fancy coven witch.

"Fuckin' dragon"

The Dragon in question Attea hates, mutated her, and after eating a dragon egg, evolved straight into her highest form, which a dark worm can evolve into: A Rock Eater.

This doesn't sit well with Attea. Because they are only D+ and are mostly useless without a swarm.

Attracted by the unique mana signature. The Coven offered Attea a deal. So join us and have revenge against the man that plagues your dreams.

"Let us start, sisters... I can't wait to see what ...she has to offer" Evelynn spoke slowly and ordered her Coven sister.

Evelynn laughs, seeing the Rock Eater turn red at her wording.

There are many things that Evelynn desires. The feeling of terror fleeing victims radiates the thrill of chasing somebody, but most of all, Evelynn desires knowledge. Not to expand her knowledge of the vast world, mind you, Evelynn truly desires knowledge to come up with new ways to entertain herself with her victims.

But also to find the person who has such tasty mana.

"The things I'm going to do to him." Evelynn smirks in delight. "or the things 'we' are going to do with him..."

The ritual begins...

and things to go wrong at the start.

"Oh, that dragon will regret living her alive," Evelynn said as the Conversion ritual began to transform Attea into a Coven Witch.

While taking the lives but all of her sisters but her and Circe.

“Sister, our young one is absorbing every essence. Should I stop this?” Circe was asking a rhetorical question.

“Once this is done, we will perform an assimilation spell.”

“Why would thee ask for something so pointless.”

“Cause sister. The young one would perform thy ritual… but with modifications,” The Coven Master says with a plan in mind.

In the Draco Plateau is also known as the 'The Monsters Dwelling,' there was a beautiful and terrifying princess. She was Princess Zoesette, and she wished to rule the world. Daughter of Kaiju Queen Zilla and Dinosaur King Gojira. The goddaughter of Primera, the Deathlady!

She is also the hated rival of Rumi. Back in their school days. The daughters were forced to hang out with each other because their mothers Zilla and Diana, wanted them to get along.

"It really is true; mass pit stop pancakes are the best pancakes!" Zoesette said, skewering a whole pancake on her fork and shoving it in her mouth. Naturally, it sent syrup dripping down her chin. Still, experience had taught her to tuck a napkin into her cleavage for just that purpose.

She also is a lover of pancakes.

Gusjay was disappointed with how quickly he had gotten used to what should have been an odd sight.

They were in a typical Kaiju sanctioned mass pit stop. The air was thick with the smell of greasy food, burned coffee, the boasts and grunts of Dinosaur pit fighters, and the sweaty incense of lost tourists consulting road maps in corner booths. The Magi and the loud teenager dino Kajiu woman sat at the bar with a spiked collar on her neck and hands.

Gusjay pushed aside his own plate, having already finished his jaw-fish burger. It was dinner time, after all. The princess of the Kaiju's had been eating pancakes for the last three days straight, just because she could.

"Your Majesty, we have been 'pitting,' as you say it, for a week now," he pointed out.

"That's right — nothing but the open road, the beating of men and women trying to kill each other, and great cheap food with atmospheres so thick you could 'em cut with a baseball bat," she said cheerily, picking up her syrup-drenched plate to start licking it clean.

"Shouldn't we be getting to that big picture you were talking about?" he pressed.

"Hey, inspiration doesn't just strike like that," she protested, snapping her fingers to demonstrate. "Besides, I was kind of just born or something. So why shouldn't I take some me-time before getting to work on my career? And besides, Gusjay, you can just fly while I eat."

"Not with you calling me back every ten minutes."

"Pfft, your dad has more spine in his books than you do. Learn to multitask already. Take me, for example — Pops plots the downfall of the Dragon Kingdoms. However, he can still take time to go-kart with his sworn foes and my old lady," she said imperiously, holding up one claw and closing her eyes. Then she started licking her plate again.

Gusjay pushed his glasses back up his beak and tried again.

"Listen, Your Majesty, I know you have no financial motive to get serious. And it's clear you don't value my well-being or your own image. But surely you see the need to get serious because…." Gusjay appealed, trailing off. Zoesette looked up from her sparkling clean plate to glance at the Magi Dino inquiringly.

"You… have no reason to take this seriously," he mournfully concluded. Giving a cute little burp, the princess patted her stomach and pulled out the napkin to dab her lips.

"Pay the lady, Slave. Once I get back from making a deposit, we're hitting the road; for some reason, I can feel that Rumi has gotten stronger." she declared, getting up from her stool.

Gusjay sighs the crap that is his life.

"Hurry it up, bub! Pops just sent me a message n' I want yo' ta read da shit!"

"Yes, your majesty."

Having left the pit stop Gusjay read the letter.

"Pop wants to use something called the OCS?" Zoesette asked.

"O.C.S. — Organized Criminal Services. They're a headhunter group for minions and such. We pay them, and they round up minions in the number we want, and our budget can afford for us to hire or reject," Gujay explained.

"Man, Why does Pop want me to go through all this," she grumbled. "

"Maybe because you bet almost your money on a wrestling match. Then when the dinosaur lost. You charged in and kicked his ass? Then you took the entire money pit."

"Yeah, it was a kickass rumble," Zoe mused, patting one of her biceps.

"Anyway, before we register with them, we should go over our assets. As of now, it's just the two of us. Since your father is telling take over a newly discovered camping monster. You might be powerful-"

"And I am awesome," She slipped in.

"-Right. And then we have your last stipend. And a semi-transport that is full of your wardrobe."

"And miscellaneous dames stuff," she piped up.

"And, that. So that's what we have to work with going in."

"Well, there's also the flying fortress," Zoesette said, squinting as she glared at the letter with a burning hatred.

"Yes, tha-… What flying fortress?" Gusjay asked, looking up from his clipboard.

An hour later:

Zoesette stepped up to the door to the mega ultra epic storage unit and knelt down to grab the handle. Putting her legs into it, she jerked the door upward and sent the massive metal curtain door rising up with a flurry of clanks. Sunlight across the storage facility now entered the hangar-like unit, revealing a gigantic rotor air vehicle, green in color, with its front painted to style a crocodile head, baring teeth.

"Where did this come from?" Gusjay asked, head tilted up, taking it in.

"Pops bought it off some loser Croc king who was having a bankruptcy sale," Zoe said. "Auntie Primera threatened him to give it to me for a birthday gift or me and Rumi."

"…Well, this is quite an asset," Lamek admitted as they walked into the unit.

"Maybe. It's been in there sitting for, what, fifteen years? I mean, it will probably take a team of dinomechanics days just to see if it's skyworthy, then who knows how long before it can be up to snuff, and Pops never really looked it over, so who knows if the Croc didn't take a bunch of stuff to parcel out or just poorly maintained it?"

Gusjay stood stunned by the reasonable comment as Zoestte walked up and rapped a knuckle on the deflated tire of the ship's landing gear.

"You know stuff?" Gusjay let slip.

"No, I know kickass stuff!" Zoesette clarified, puffing out her chest in pride.

Day 17, Try out for the Neo Dreadthnought Division:

Gusjay checked his look, clipping a yellow bowtie onto his neck, looking into the bathroom mirror. His usual armor set was recently shinned, his wings freshly washed, and his glasses back from the cleaner. Add the tie, and he thought he looked pretty ready to take on anything.

"You're spiffy enough!" Zoesette declared, grabbing him by the scruff and tossing him out of the bed-haired Zoesette in a black nightgown pulled a rack of gowns, all in dark colors, and a suitcase labeled "cosmetics" in. Then, slamming the door shut on Gusjay, she set to work while Gusjay sighed.

"Just be ready by the time it's interview time for the forepeople. After that, I'll handle the mass issue minions," he said.

"Yeah, whatever, I'll be done by the time you get to something important," she said. Then, with a rev, something sounding like a cummerbund sander came on, and Gusjay made an exit.

"Testing, testing, four, five, and six. Good," Gusjay said, tapping the microphone. Then, clearing his throat, he started to address the crowd.

"Thank you all for coming today to this vague endeavor for uncertain goals from a client who wants to not disclose much for dramatic reasons," Gusjay said, speaking into a mike as he stood at a podium addressing a crowd of mini kaijus, dinosaurs, and lizard folks.

"Now, if you will form into groups of five based on your category and form a single line…" he said, indicating to the one and only interview station.

A Long Time Later:

Willing his soul to not leave his body, Gusjay was done with the cannon fodder. A stack of filled-out forms taller than he was picked up by a frog-man wearing an OCS uniform, taking them off to be filed.

"The higher-up position interviews will begin in ten minutes," the rat-man said, hidden behind the stack. Then, checking the sun, Lamek got up, popping his joints and making his way up to the Zoesette room.

"Your Majesty, are you ready yet?" he asked, opening the door. Only to see a snarling princess in armor sprawled across the ground with a wrestling magazine covering her face as she snored and mumbled.

"Smash Stone Cold. Rahanaaana. Who is the baddest sum bitch in the world? Stone cold say- Wha!?" she muttered, as Gusjay smacked her on top of the head with his wand.

"Time to build your empire," he told her, defusing the fireball in her mouth. She grinned, letting the smoke leak through her fangs.

The smoke, fangs, and flexing muscles, he had to admit, made an oddly intimating contrast with the sparkle she had given herself for the occasion.

The princess burned down the doors and took her seat in a stone chair dramatically, put on a human invention called a trucker hat reading BOSS, and clicked a pen.

"Let's begin," she growled. Gusjay pressed an intercom button on the giant table they were using.

"Number one," he spoke into it.

"I am Bikeman!" a Dragon wearing biker clothes.

"Wha?" Zoesette asked, tilting her head.

"I believe our sign says Dragons need not apply," Lamek said.

"Who the da fuck put that?" Zoesette asked, pissed off at the racist comment.

"I'm not a Drago; I'm a dino on the inside! Also, I'm an artificially dino-dragon hybrid." Bikemen insisted.

"Your weird," Zoesette said.

"Oh, we don't have time for this, Begone!" he shouted, zapping the applicant out of sight.

"I am Pelagornis! Daring darer of the skies and bastion of honor amongst my malicious kin!" a winged dinosaur with a red scarf and red pompadour said. He threw his scarf over his shoulder dramatically, with it somehow catching and blowing majestically in the wind, despite them being indoors.

"You do realize 'we' are your malicious kin," Zoesette said, pointing with a pen.

"Are you sure you have the right building?" Gusjay asked.

"Yes! One does not just idly turn one's face. First, I must be involved with an evil scheme. Then either be moved by the valor of the heroes or disgusted by evil employers to change sides at the dramatic moment to turn the tide. Then"

BOOM

He fell dead dramatically, charred by the fireball.

"That hairstyle is unforgivable. Next!" Zoesette called, smoke trailing from the corner of her mouth.

"Dr. Bomb Dino guy! If it can be made, I can make it explode!" said an older raptor with a few tufts of white hair, a lab coat, goggles covering his eyes, and a shell bolted together over cracks.

"Promising," Zoesette nodded.

The doctor smiled and poured himself a cup of water. It exploded.

"Next!" Gusjay called.

"Hmm, interesting," Zoesette said, leaning across the table, squinting down at the applicant.

"Your application is quite unique," the princess kaiju remarked, smiling.

"Uh, I think I may have the wrong room. I was applying for being a tax auditor," An Allosaurus in a suit and tie said, tugging nervously on the tie.

"Taxes? Now that's evil. I like the cut of your jib… You're hired," Zoesette declared.

"Well, it could be worse," Gusjay shrugged, stamping the application with the magical employment seal.

The dinosaur gulped.

"I am Microraptor!"

"Go away!" Zoesette commanded.

"I'm Kentrosaurus!" a brawny, low head dino with a short black mohawk declared, hitting his chest with a fist.

"So we see," Gusjay remarked, looking over his application, "That might explain why you answered every question on the form with 'I'm Kentrosauru.'."

"Really? Dang, he did worse than me on a job application form," Zoesette whistled, leaning over to look at the form.

"Hahahaha! That's because you need to know only two things. I'm Kentrosaurus!"

…

…

"And I am tough!" Kentrosaurus declared. Reaching into the duffle bag he had brought with him, he pulled out a mace. And hit himself in the face with it. Then a second time, breaking it. Still, he stood, resolute and undaunted.

"Is that all?" Zoesette huffed.

Kentrosaurus pulled out three bowling balls and started juggling them. Sending all three raining down on his head, they bounced off his head and dented the floor. Yet he stood, resolute and undaunted.

"Is that all?"

Gusjay squeaked as the crazy dino lit a stick of dynamite then ate it.

BOOM

Smoke and fire erupted inside the spiked dino. And Kentrosaurus stood resolute and undaunted.

"*Yawn* Is that all?" Bowsette asked.

Gusjay looked at his princess like she'd lost her mind.

Outside of tall building:

Gusjay and Zoesette stood in a building back parking lot, looking up toward the roof.

" I AMMMM Kentrosaurus!" Kentrosaurus roared, plummeting down toward them headfirst. Pavement rippled, buckled, and broke under the impact. Gusjay was sent tumbling back along with many cars, and Zoestte put a hand to her hat to keep it in place.

As the dust cleared, she watched as the Kentrosaurus stood in the crater, resolute and undaunted… Then, with a sound like an un-oiled door, he fell over, still holding his triumphant pose. There he laid. Daunted and Unresolute.

"Okay, you're hired!" Zoesette said, scribbling the news on a sticky note and pasting it to his forehead.

"What if he's dead, Your Highness?" Gusjay asked, trying to get a car off him.

"Well, then he won't need a job, will he?" Zoesette pointed out.

"Alright, we got our mobs time to attack that stupid camping monster. Onward! To victory!" Zoesette said, running off. Most likely to gunk food.

Five minutes later:

"How could you not hire one engineer, or mechanic, or even an electrician!?" Zoesette ranted as she and her soon-to-be fucked up Magi slave walked down a metal-laden corridor of the sky fortress. Finally, they turned a corner to see a monkey slave being electrocuted via his wrench. Zoesette whacked him clear with her tail as she passed, still fuming.

"I don't know. Isn't messing up on common sense your role?" Gusjay asked.

"I know! You're supposed to be the suffering nerd to my too-awesome-to-care coolness who takes care of petty details like that. Don't mess up the dynamic!" Zoesette griped as they got to the bridge. "Now fix this place!"

One Costly Overhaul Later:

"I can't believe I had to sell my truck!" Zoesette pouted and whined as she and Gusjay walked across the pavement to the hangar.

"Well, it was either that or wait, go tell your father that you spend your money on outfits. Besides, what do you need a semi for when you have a giant airship?" Gusjay asked.

"You're just a guy who doesn't get why semis are awesome," Zoesette pouted further, crossing her arms and sticking out her lower lip.

"And you're impatient, Your Majesty. Anyway, the workers we - I mean you - hired says it should be ready to fly. So all that's left is the paint job, which should be just about done," Gusjay said, going through the paper on his clipboard.

"What the heck!?" Zoesette shouted as they entered the hangar and saw the sky fortress. Finally, finally, the painting seemed to be done.

The body of the vessel had been modified with extra armor in the shape of a spiked shell. That was fine. But the head part…

"I do not look like that!" Zoesette screamed, sparks flying from her fangs.

"Mmm," Gusjay slipped. Usually, he knew situations like this had the likeness be accurate, and the villain was angry because of denial over their unattractiveness. But while Zoettte was quite beautiful, for a hybrid, the head of their ship…

Scary and ugly looking.

"Well, think of it this way. When people see that and see you, you will look even more beautiful by comparison," he said, thinking fast.

Zoesette stopped, holding two fireballs in her hands. Then, looking thoughtful, she clenched her fists, putting the fire out.

"You're right. This abomination shall only serve to enhance my beauty when I emerge from it to wreck people! It's brilliant! Tell everyone I planned it that away! Bwahahaha!"

Gusjay has a feeling that attacking this city was going to be a pain the ass.

"I want this thing in the Air now! We attack at dawn. To the Swamps!!"

[author] Anyone can guess who the mysterious Dragon is?

Should I make Zoesette aggressive or like Rumi? [/author]