Drabble 1

A towering yellow beast, the kind that would normally have scales flashing gold in the sun, flew before Saburo; though true to character, this creature's scales kept their cartoonish color in any light. Its grandeur belong to a creature out of a fantasy tale.

A fantasy tale of a different genre than the one he already lived, anyway, he was usually more in science fiction than the kind of stories you found dragons in.

He did suppose that with the wires churning the air around its head almost as much as its sweeping wings, as electricity lashed forth from the massive cables, made this dragon as suited to him facing it as any could be. Though just defeating it in the customary manner that usually applied to monsters, a manner that generally resulted in the beast's death, would not be acceptable here. That wouldn't have been a true problem, except that he only really had one course that would work, which was what appeared to be the most difficult. The electricity would melt his bones and turn his flesh to flaky ash if he was hit by it, but he needed to approach its source to carry out a proper rescue mission. He would need to wield a lightning rod as a weapon to breach the constant shifts of this odd armor.

He paused, and smirked, it didn't take him another second to realize what he was going to do here. It wouldn't be such a big deal to get past a swarm of burning purple pillars, after all. What was stopping him from using a lightning rod as a weapon? He withdrew his notebook plainly, and the Pen with a flourish, and set to work. A large stick was all he needed to draw, with a particular piece on the end, to produce what was in effect a giant metal baseball bat with a black rubber handle, much larger than it looked like he should be able to hold. He swung it, and it made a pleasing “woosh” slicing the air, eliciting a grin from him. The rocket skateboard had long been set under his feet before now, and it sprang up obligingly as he slammed one foot against the concrete. He was soon steady and soaring, his lightning rod gripped with the ease that most weapons required practice to obtain.

It didn't take much time before he needed it, as the dragon found him quickly in its disdainful glare, and directed a number of cables to him. He jerked to a harsh stop, tilting the skateboard at an angle almost completely perpendicular to the ground to do so, and laughed sharply at the beams approaching him. The rod swung back again, this time more than a practice shot, and as it he brought it back forward, it absorbed the power into its core. When the metal had crossed before him to the other side of his body, the fizzling sparks had dissipated. He chuckled again.

“Kururu, you were harder to deal with when you looked like a wimp, you know?” The dragon snarled at the unmistakable derisiveness, having retained its pride, but it no longer knew the name that was attached to itself. Saburo felt something twinge in him at this thought, but he had already  burst forward, the flames from the rockets shining in smooth, compact counterpoint to the sharp, all-enveloping electricity that he fended off continuously. Concentration was required. He swerved at the wildest of angles and darted through twisted gaps in wires more tangled than headphones seemed to be able to make themselves after long periods of time left alone.

It did not take him much time to clear the obstacles, simply because he couldn't have let it, lingering would have destroyed him regardless of how quick he was with a Pen. He shot forward, faster than he had expected to go now that nothing was in the way, and nearly rushed by his goal. He braked more suddenly than before, and this time gravity proved more dangerous than any supposedly mythical creature as he was pitched off, flying back and knocking into Kururu's horn so forcefully that the impact dazed him beyond immediate recognition of his technical success.

Kururu's awareness returned much more quickly, his eyes flashing darkly and staying dark as they should be, a very different look from his previous blank aggression. His shoulder slipped down, and one massive, clawed paw rose over his mouth as he laughed crazily, and not without a dangerous amount of rage. “KUUUUU KUU KU KU~”

Why, someone had thought so foolishly to try to control him like this. Surely he must correct their error, as they had so thoughtfully provided him with a form fit to do so.

Once the laughter died down, he spoke in a familiar drawl through his mind to Saburo, who now stood, one hand rested  against the horn lightly, his smirk faint and satisfied with Kururu's larger one to match it.

“Hmm, I guess I should thank you, Saburo. But formalities like that are just going to have to wait. There are more important pests to squash.” He narrowed his eyes into unquestionably menacing slits at his former “master,” who lurked in the distance on another dragon's back. His change in expression from his own smug smirk to a bitter frown was something both wave buddies took pleasure in.

“Yeah, sure,” Saburo agreed amiably. “Really, why are we still talking...?” He trailed off, and when he finished his statement, Kururu spoke with him.

“Why don't we just take a second to clean things up?”