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[personal profile] lb_lee
This prompt was kludged together from prompts from Megan, who wanted people robbing a dragon, Anna of colada, who wanted a dragon hoard not necessarily of monetary value, and [livejournal.com profile] meepalicious, who also wanted immaterial wealth and a dragon's hoard.  It was sponsored by [livejournal.com profile] silvercat17! EDIT:Now illustrated by the lovely katz of Manboobz!

Platinum and Gold

a drawing of a green, serpentine dragon with a yellow belly, wearing tortoiseshell glasses, a plaid skirt, and a rust-colored shawl.  It's examining its claws with a look of disdain.

“Sir, are you sure this is a good idea?”

“You heard them; this is the richest dragon on the west coast, and I’m out of beer money. Do you want to be an adventurer or not?”

“I just really don’t know that I’m prepared to take on a dragon.”

“Look, who’s the experienced adventurer here? Who’s robbed every dragon north of Baja?”

Flatly: “You.”

“You what?”

“You, sir.”

“Exactly. You’d be lucky to suck my dick, never mind get apprenticed to me. So shut up and learn how it’s done, or go back to your shithole and bag groceries for a living.”

Steph bit her tongue. Just another month of this, she told herself. Then she’d have her year of adventurer experience, and she could get out of here. Just one more month…

They finally crested the mountain ridge. Around them was charred grass, and in front of them lay a dark, foreboding cave, with the faint sulfuric odor of dragon. No cover whatsoever, and lots of burn marks. Steph’s misgivings deepened.

“Very atmospheric,” Sir said approvingly, but his expression soured when he caught Steph checking the sky. “You have a problem?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. Come on.”

The dragon’s lair was cool and dry inside, and surprisingly neat and clean. The stone was worn smooth and shiny, decorated with the occasional throw pillow and poster. While Sir continued on inside, Steph paused to glance at one on the wall.

“Is that Barbra Streisand?” She asked.

Sir sent a baleful look back at her. “Do I look like I care? Quit sightseeing. We have a hoard to snatch.”

It didn’t take long to find. This dragon’s lair was small, only a few rooms separated by bead curtains. Past the entrance hall was a beanbag nest, which Steph started to question, then changed her mind, sure she’d only get a sarcastic retort. Then they passed a room filled with bones, picked clean and artfully arranged. Some of the skulls had flowers growing in them. Steph shuddered and hastily followed Sir into the next room, which proved to be the last. And inside…

The hoard was filled entirely with records and concert posters.

“I climbed all the way up the mountain for this?” Sir bellowed.

For once, Steph was happy to say, “Yes, sir.”

“This is shit! They told me this dragon had more gold and platinum than any dragon on the west coast!”

“I do,” came a miffed, reptilian voice behind them.

Steph and Sir spun. Behind them lay a slender, rather iguana-like dragon about twenty feet long, dressed in a plaid skirt and bulky glasses. It seemed to enjoy their surprise.

“Gold and platinum albums,” it continued, and with one lash of its tail, it pinned Sir to the floor. “Really, you just walk into my cave in broad daylight, without even the common decency to conceal your presence? My burglar alarm isn’t even that expensive.”

Sir bellowed and drew his gun, but never made it. The dragon swallowed him with one gulp, then turned to Steph. “Hmm. You don’t look like an adventurer.”

Steph swallowed and bowed. “I-I’m not, your greatness. I’m his apprentice.”

The dragon gave her an analytical glance. “You don’t seem particularly enthused about the situation.”

Steph spread her hands. “I wanted to get out of Missoula, and I couldn’t afford college. This was all I could get. I’m sorry about this. I didn’t really want to be here.”

“I can tell. Stop shaking, I’m not going to eat you. You were polite.”

“Th-thanks.” She looked around at the hoard. “This is an amazing collection. I saw your poster in the front, and it looked like new.”

The dragon preened. “Why, thank you! Every dragon with delusions of capitalist supremacy hoard precious metals. Me? I prefer sonic poetry. I have fond memories of every single one of these; I could tell my biography to you in song; I hatched listening to old wax cylinders. I’ve got every hit ever made, right back to Glenn Miller’s ‘Chattanooga Choo-Choo,’ circa 1942. Would you like to hear it? I’ve kept it in pristine condition.”

“I’d like that very much, thank you.”

The dragon slid past her into the piles of records, using the tips of its claws to remove one from its special sleeve, and together, the dragon and the apprentice listened to old songs until sundown.

Date: 2013-08-06 04:10 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Haha, awesome!

--Megan

Date: 2013-08-06 01:39 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] aubergine-pilot.livejournal.com
[HAPPY PTERODACTYL NOISES]

Date: 2013-08-06 03:14 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] silvercat17.livejournal.com
Awesome. =^___^=

Date: 2013-08-09 04:48 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ext-2085929.livejournal.com (from livejournal.com)
I snorted audibly when I got to "throw pillows."

Date: 2013-08-09 10:10 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lb-lee.livejournal.com
My intent was to make the biggest hipster dragon ever. I feel I succeeded.

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