Gym Dragoness

>6.47. Registered anomalous fluctuation in thermo-entropic readings. Pattern registeres code Ebon.
>7.02. First noise complaints registered.
>7.02. First complains of property damage begin flooding in. Reports match single target and are passed along.
>An overseer notices the pattern, and opens another line beyond the emergency services.
>Drachenkin.
>7.05. An unmarked chrome van skids out from an unmarked, abandoned, building that lacks distinctive graffiti. It tears down streets, traffic diverted away, and never once incurring a speeding ticket.
>If anyone were to look more closely at the chrome blur, one might note the lack of windows, and that the vision was controlled by steering. One might also have noticed that the cladding was solid steel, and several inches thick, or that the wheels were also armoured, and not civilian grade, or that the car featured buttresses, and several bulky compartments with sloping armour.
>But none were around to even notice the blur.
>7.12
>The vehicle reaches the last known sighting of the subject, a sports complex, missing a wall.
>The van skids to a halt, swinging itself around. As the back end passes closer to the building, the door bursts open.
>7.12. The cargo of the van dismounts, not even waiting for the van to slow, as heavy boots crunch into the tarmac.
>The Paladins had arrived.
>The vehicle behind them stopped, and unfurled like an iron flower, driving spikes into the ground. The five passengers sprinted across the ground, limbs snarling and ground crunching underfoot.
>Each was unique in their panalopy, nothing like a soldier, but a warrior. A hero.
>Or, far more accurately, a knight.
Should we not slow down? Be cautious?
>The youngest of the pack spoke up. He had been recruited out of the navy seals, a few months before truly graduating, and he had the hard drive to impress his fellows. It was his first mission.
"No point squire. The foe would have heard us as soon as our boots hit the pavement. It prepares as we speak.
>Another cut him off. A hulking man from the Russian Spietznaz. He was the toughest of them all. But also the wisest.
"His rank is Knight, ser Grammon. You know this as well as I. And Ser Jacobis is correct. He may have heard us, but he also may be distracted. Just because you can hear something, doesn't mean you do. Besides. Our foe is canny. We would do badly to just run into a trap he may spring."
"Acknowledged, my apologies."
>Jacob responded with a nod and a shrug, and they slowed to a fast walk, letting their armour run quiet.
>They could vaguely make out the sounds of crashing and roaring, and brief hand signals flew. They had private radios, but old habits die hard when trained into you.
>They advanced, slowly, cautiously, as they grew closer.
"Prepare yourselves. Weapons ready."
>They each checked their weapons. Safeties came off, catches were flipped, rounds were chambered and switches completed.
>A scream shattered the night, and each of the party felt their blood freeze.
>Civilian.
>They broke into a sprint, charging through the door, splintering the thick wood to splinters.
>7.14. Contact.
>They fanned out, spears and swords raised. Custom built chambers took in thumb sized rounds, which quickly detonated, propelling finger width, rocket propelled rounds into the foe. Each must have felt like a hammerblow, but even with the depleted uranium tip, nothing penetrated.
>Of course they didn't. Drachenkiln, at least the ones they had to deal with, were always tough enough to resist such mundane things as bullets.
>Grammon roared in fury.
"Jacobis! Ready the Lance!"
>A taloned claw slammed into his chest in his distraction. The impact that could flatten a car sent his multi-ton bulk flying. He crashed through a wall and did not rise.
"Grammon!"
>Jacob bought his own weapon around, and braced hard. His was not a sword or a polearm with plasma coating and a gun.
>He had the dubious honour of bearing the Lance of Longenis.
>The contraption was a bulky thing, requiring nearly all the output of his suit to fire. It functioned on a potent series of electromagnets to propel charged particles down a trough at incredible velocities, enough to give them the energy-mass to punch through anything. It could fire anything from artillery shells, to rails from vehicle mounted railweapons, to even streams of plasma.
>But this time, they did not have the clearance to such things.
>The lance was loaded with sleepteeth. Metre long poles, containing a potent tranquiliser.
>They were taking this foe alive.
"Ten seconds!"
>Those seconds, as with any firefight, ticked by slowly. The civilian, a youngish woman, who looked like a standard gym bunny, kept screaming. The Dragon kept twisting and turning and his comerades kept swinging and hacking. The blades were energised and had incredible power behind them from their armour, and where bullets could not, they could cleave through the unexpectedly thick scales.
>He checked his readings. Five seconds.
>He counted them down, and adjusted his aim. If he missed, the rounds could possibly deflect, and could very well tear out of the building and through others. And if the lance was jerked, the plasma buildup could burn through his suit.
>And so help him if it actually got damaged.
>Two seconds.
>Ser Rasputin took a tail swing that slammed him into the floor, he got up quickly, but not enough to assist the final duo. They fought well, but the Dragon was near berserk in his desire to kill, and their halberds were battered down.
>One, Ser Geoffery, was battered down with them. The other was not so lucky.
>He remained standing, and took a spear sized talon through the chest. He screamed across the channel in pain.
>Jacob fired the lance, and ground his teeth as it penetrated at the base of the neck, just above the hard bone collar.
>In all things, a perfect shot. Best location for penetration, close to the major arteries for rapid dispersal.
>The dragon was out before he hit the ground.
>With a horrible squealing sound, the talon wrenched itself free from it's target, and he stumbled, but regained his footing.
"Ser Riccard!"
>Geoffrey reached him first, and slammed an emergency biofoam open against him. The foam expanded, and plugged the gap in his chest readily.
>Geoffrey didn't let up, shouting at him to not move, and switching a series of switches to put him on the suit's emergency life support.
>Jacob lowered the lance, and moved to check on Ser Grammon, but he was pulling himself free, moving with a limp, but otherwise fine. Probably just a broken bone in his leg. His armour should support him.
>Still, he an extended an arm. It was waved away, and he heard him snort over the radio.
"Don't worry lad, I've had worse, much worse. Go help out Riccard."
>He nodded, and helped carry the now joint locked body in his shoulders back to the van for better treatment.
>7.17. Target neuturalised. Waiting for cleanup crew and transport of target.
>Ser Grammon found himself securing the target, a big ugly Yellow that had called himself "The Golden". In reality, he had headed a serious drug ring, an assortment of whorehouses, and controlled several gangs. He was also a suspect for the increase in code Ebon calls in recent years.
>Grammon snorted, and slammed a hand into "The golden's" lemon yellow scales. A few cracked, but the beast sis not stir.
"We got you you bastard."
>A sound made him turn.
>The gym girl was going into shock.
>He made his way over to her, and knelt down as slowly and quietly as he could.
>He considered removing his helmet, but decided against it. Not only was it forbidden in public, but years in this job hadn't done wonders to his facial features exactly.
>Although, she wasn't a bad thing to look at, in converse, although the shock wasn't exactly his thing.
>Still, neither was babying the civilians that wander into the middle of a firefight.
It's okay. You're fine. This is normal. You're okay.
>He wished that his fancy looking armour also came with a fancy ass cape. She could use a blanket, and his suit lacked such things.
>The other Knight, Ser Frederick, came over and offered her a steaming drink.
>She took it, and sipped it slowly.
"I brewed some tea, and mixed in a bit of electrolytic paste. I can take over from here if you'd like, Ser Grammon. I was trained as a field medic."
"Please, good Ser. Go ahead."
>He happily pulled away, and let Fredrick kneel down. He averted his eyes as he realised he was removing his helm, so the camera would not catch him doing so.
>He couldn't fault him. His face looked vaguely human, and she would respond well to something appearing human. Sure the suits weren't overly robotic, and kept some similarities, a face was still more human.
>Transport came five minutes later. Feed lines were hooked into the comatose dragon to feed sedatives, and then the target was dragged unceremoniously outside, and winched away by a blacked out cargo helicopter. It disappeared into the clouds as the winter sky began to open into light.
>By the time the first rays hit the building, nothing remained of people, vehicles or otherwise within.
>The property owners and witnesses would be given a Non disclosure form, and a large sum of money to fix their properties. The disturbances would be written off as a series of violent hooligans, who were being swiftly dealt with, quietly, and life went on as normal after a few days of gossip.
>All would be well, and none would be any the wiser.

Anonymous Sun 17 Feb 2019 22:29:56 No.21359901 Report
Quoted By: >>21360312
>>21352136
>>21354153
>She eased down the weight, and near slumped off the machine, breathing hard, sweat trickling down from her hair.
>She smiled, despite the pain that otherwise would be cause for concern among others.
>But she was not an other.
>This was just standard practice for her.
>Normally, to bbodybuild, people went on merticulously planned regimes of sets of exercise.
>She didn't have the time, or frankly, the patience for such things. She exercised until she couldn't, and trusted in that to build up muscle.
>She knew herself well, and she also knew that it worked.
>She was Jessica Smithson, and she would grow stronger.
>On shaky, overworked legs, she stumbled out of the room.
>She went to order her normal selection at the store, protein smoothie and energy bar. But when she saw they had a new, fancier protein shake recipe, she decided that it can't hurt to try it, at least once.
>It tasted practically like every other shake, a bit tasteless, rather unpleasant, but it was good.
>She chugged the whole thing, and then, in a moment of uncommon release for her, ordered another one, and some more food.
>She went back for seconds, then thirds, then left as she felt finally sated.
>Eight minutes later, she was in the showers, easing out knots in her muscles, before just sitting under the stream, and watching the water flow down the drain, carrying the sweat from the little crevices in her body where it had pooled.
>It made her feel oddly itchy.
>She scratched the back of her neck, then the inside of her thigh, trying to sate the itch.
>She was really itching actually.
>This wasn't normal.
>Overdose on chemicals they may put in some of her stuff?
>More likely a possible anaphylactic reaction to a new allergen she didn't know about?
>She could feel her bones aching. Allergen, likely. She could still breathe, so it probably wasn't too serious, and she wasn't about to wander out of the shower naked from a skin rash.
>The water turned pink.
She looked at her hand with bleary eyes. Little flecks of red were lodged under her nails, and her hand was coated in the pinkish water and she realised with a snap that it was her blood.
>It didn't hurt that much. She must have just given herself a minor nick. Her nails did look oddly long.
>She felt her arm itch, and looked intently as she scratched, and gaped as her skin came away.
>She cried as she saw what lay beneath. Glossy scales, a cool white, that looked uncomfortably like flesh, but would resist her oddly deep nails.
>She whimpered, though, as she felt her ribs, and her spine shift, then her pelvis, and her hands.
>She cradled her skull, as she felt several somethings snap and burst.
>Her vision greyed, and the last thing she focused on were her hands, wearing her skin like too tight gloves, and tipped with claws.
>Her mouth hit the wall, and she slumped to the floor, feeling the water flow around her.
>She didn't know how long it had been before she awoke.
>The first thing she noticed, was the shower was a lot smaller, and that when she stood, she could see over the stall. She had always been on the upper side of height, but she had to be at least seven feet now.
>She turned off the showerhead, and walked out into the changing room, that now felt a whole lot smaller.
>She checked herself in the mirror, and gasped.
>She had some kind of lizard face. A muzzle, teeth, and even little horn structures ringing her hair like a crown. Her hands were bigger, and clawed, and her feet seemed to have switched into paws at some point, and were also clawed wuite impressively.
>But what took her breath away, was her body. Not the cool glossy scales, but the muscle underneath. She had worked out, but this kind of muscle was what she had always fantasised about. Her abs looked like they were hewn from stone, and her torso was the definition of greek god, with the addition of some full, but not over-huge breasts.
>She ran her hands over her body, then down to her legs, and grinned. Forget watermelons, her thighs could probably pulverise tree trunks, she thought to herself.
>She twisted, and her tail, which she hadn't really noticed, swung around and went straight through a bidet, turning it to powder.
>She grinned.
"Oops."
>She fished around for where her watch had gone after snapping off her larger wrists.
>Ten forty-two. After closing time.
>She left the bathroom, and snuck back into the weights room. She was hungry, but too excited to try lift weights with her new muscle.
>She easily doubled her squat lift, and then discovered she could just lift the weight machines instead.
>Those provided a bit more of a challange, but she felt muscle flex, and she raised them above her head.
>Movement.
>Machines, a crunching sound.
>Sounds heavy.
>Close.
>Something easily her height burst through the doorframe, big and silver and metal, looking like some kind of...robot knight.
>She twisted, and grinned as she threw one of the weights machines with a single pull of an arm.>The thing swatted it our of the air, and advanced, and she felt a stirring of actual fear. This thing, somehow, was at least as strong as she was, despite all her muscle.>It raised an arm, a blocky pistol held out, and she felt something stab into her.>She winced and fell against a machine. It tipped, but she didn't notice.>She saw the metal rod in her arm and yanked it out. It was the size of an arrow, but to her relief, only the tip went in, and there were no barbs.>She didn't even notice it go black, until she woke up.>She checked herself over, then hauled herself to her feet. The ground was cold, metal or stone she didn't know."So. The new dragoness awakens? Sleep well dear?""Did you just call me dear? Don't call me that again.""Ohh, quite the strong will you have. One might guess however, that that is something you pride yourself on.">She looked down at herself. She was naked, but she didn't really feel embarrassed too much at this. Her body was a testament to her will."No shit girl. You seen me lately?">She gestured at her body. Sure some robot had stopped her, but it had been lucky, and she was flesh and blood."So you think yourself quite mighty then? Well, if so, a show of strength is in order.">Another patch of light lit up a rock. About the size of a backpack."Pick up that rock.">She did. She couldn't quite do it with one hand, but she did it easily."Boring and easy.">She tried to get a rise from the speaker, whom sounded female, but the only thing that happened was a new light, lighting up a larger rock.This was roughly the size of her torso, but she lifted it above her head the same.>And another rock, a good metre in diameter.>And then one and a half metres.>She barely managed two."Very impressive. Truly you must hold yourself as mighty indeed. A dragon, seven foot, immune to light ammunition, strong, fast, fire breath."
>She got the distinct impression the speaker wasn't taking her seriously.
"But there are things you must remember, young one. You are a dragon, so you are a beholden to a new series of laws, but the one I will have you remember is this."
>Another light, and she gasped at the bolder. Easily twice her height, and nearly round.
>She nearly screamed as something collossal and black slammed into it, almost too fast to see, and pulverised the stone into powder.
>The appendage, what she saw now was some immense flexible tail, slid away, the diamond of hard material cutting groves into the stone floor.
>Something burst into life close to her in the darkness, some kind of bright light.
>Fire, she realised.
>Fire, framing a gigantic, black skull, the size of a bus and bejewelled with gold, and she felt her body freeze as she realised the sheer size of who or what she was talking to.
"You are still, so very very small."
>Dumbfounded, she managed to stutter one question.
"Wha-what are you?"
>And she saw one of the huge eyes shut, and the lips pull back into what looked like a smile. She thought it might have been a wink, but the idea was silly.
"I'm you, but stronger."