My Dragons! :D

Newest eggs and hatchlings! ^.^

AYE

Meanwhile, in Mly's Mlega Mlair of Mlaliciousness and Mlalevolence....

Mly sat boredly on his throne, resting his elbow on the high arm of that same throne, and resting his chin on the attached fist.

Boredly flicking through his secret camera feeds with limp hand gestures, he reached the end of the Tescian group, and saw a poorly-lit image of the young Angel, laying asleep in her small bed.

He flicked to the next. S. D. Hushimo, descendant of Zezima S. Hushimo and therefore Mly himself, in one of the most direct fashions presently possible. He was working through the late night on some manner of contraption with all sorts of bits and bobs.

The next, S. D. Hushimo's younger brother, S. S. Hushimo, who was--... Ew. Just, ew. Come on, Mly. I know I'm supposed to be the narrator, and have no personality to speak of, but why would you make me watch that? ... You're not even listening, are you? Hmph. I hate you. Why did I take this jo--Oh god, no! Fine, fine, you lunatic! Just don't shoot me again!

... You're going to cut that part out, right? Bah, I suppose I can't convince you either way. Anyway, ahum. After waving a monstrously evil-looking gun at his personal narrator in a threatening fashion so off-handed it seemed everyday to him, Mly sat the weapon back in his lap and gave another limp flick.

The screen shifted over, revealing the latest camera he had set up. Bree, sat on her bed, holding a tiny egg gently in the palms of her hands, clearly of draconic origin. A mournful, hopeless look seemed to have completely consume her face. "Hmmm," Mly mumbled. He suddenly yelled out, as if trying to speak to someone far away. "TARA! About how much do I owe Mistress Bree for all those favors and such?"

"Aaaeeeuuurrrmmm... I don't think you'll like the answer, sir," TARA's voice yelled rather calmly into his throne room from who-knows-where. Her voice sounded vaguely feminine, but the most prominent trait was that its origin was almost surely some sort of computer emulating human speech; the tone was scantly present and always a bit off, and the voice was also noticeably, but not gratingly low-quality.

"Tell me anyway, damn you! It's not like I'll tear your arm off twice in one day! Besides, you're all the way over in... wherever you are, and I'm in a rather lazy mood right now."

"Very well. Quite a lot, sir."

"Oh, good! Then she won't be surprised by this." Mly watched Bree as she now laid in her bed. There were a few barely-audible, sad-sounding sniffles that eventually faded away as she fell asleep, the egg held tightly to her bosom. Mly waited to ensure she wouldn't wake.

With a snap of his fingers, the egg was in the palm of his hand. "Hmmm. What do dragons need to live, again...? ... Oh, right! I remember now!" Cupping the egg in his hand, he stared down upon it.

Two tiny, bright rings sunk into either side of his face seemed to glow in the black of his throne room. One, golden. A sickening, vile golden. A monstrous, evil golden. A horrible, insane golden. ... The other, purple. A bright, gentle purple. A calm, careful purple. A loving, passionate purple.

Staring into these strange rings, -- looking into Mly's eyes, whose argent gaze lit the dark and pierced the egg's shell, with its own oculars -- the young, dying life within the egg thought, it was staring into the soul of a very powerful being. And a being who happened to take pity upon it.

Just when it felt on the edge of death, life surged suddenly through it. The tiny dragon had the strength to go on. ... No, more than go on. It pecked at the inside of the egg's shell with its tiny beak. The slightest of cracks was made, and its truly miniscule claws poked out, one by one, tugging at and widening the hole. Until, at last, the adorable -- although rather slimy -- little creature had enough room to pull itself out into the world.

Mly held the small reptilian oddity in one hand, and with the other, he pulled a note from the air. He held his hands together, scooping up the egg in them. In the blink of an eye, all three objects found themselves on Bree's bed. The newborn dragon leaped instinctively onto its godmother's belly and curled up for its first nap, kicking the curled-up note open on accident. It read:

"It's like my good friend Mr. Hansen always said, Bree:
With Mly, anything is possible.
I've repaid another favor. See you tomorrow."

Mly leaned back happily and haughtily in his throne, holding his own arms naturally against the arms of the throne and letting his hands droop off the ends, mumbling to himself in a calm tone much atypical for him. "Yes, that works quite nicely. A nice way to flex and exercise my proverbial muscles. Not even evil in any way, for once. I wonder how long until everyone asks how I did it. ..."

EeeYeee! *hugs the dragon tightly* thank joo!!! :D Even though that whole thing up there was like way to long ._.

Eh. I write when I'm bored.

I see :P