entranceway | [accidental video / action]

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[accidental video / action]

[Toothless has a certain fascination with art. First it was sticks in the mud, then outside chalk, and then paint on the other side of the mirrors. Today he's found more paint, except in bigger containers. With lots of colors. And bigger brushes! He likes them — he can do more with them, and not worry about them breaking in his mouth.

Paint doesn't taste good. He's finding out again today.

Because today, one of the hallways has been sacrificed to his artistic efforts. Though, to be fair, it was an accident that the first paint container broke in his mouth. And then the others followed, because Toothless has discovered finger painting.

Or, more accurately, paw painting. And tail painting. It's a mess.

His communicator is jostled on as he paws patterns of yellow, blue, green, red, and white all over the floor and some of the walls. Toothless has lost his natural black camouflage. He's just a tangle of bright colors, splattered messily, as he also uses his chin and belly to get the colors in the right patterns.]

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_{[Until now, Adam's kept his promise to himself; he hadn't left his room for even a moment since he'd moved to the tenth floor, instead spending every hour of the day safely behind warding.

Many of those days had passed in a whirlwind of hallucinations and sweats, but sometimes... sometimes they'd passed very slowly, every second ticking away on his patience. During times like those, he'd tried to rest, he'd paced, he'd done menial tasks like straighten his bed sheets, but nothing had soothed the itch in his blood. He'd been an active person before Lucifer's Cage and the longer he stays cooped up the more an old ghost inside him begs him to do something other than circle around the four walls of his new prison.

Leaving is a bad idea, he knows that, but stretching his legs for five minutes is better than nothing at all. He wobbles down the first few flights of stairs, and when his strength comes back to him, he jogs the rest. By the time he detours to the kitchen to grab some food like a normal person might on any day of the week, the cramped feeling in his muscles is starting to fade.

This is a little better.

He's carrying some chicken, salad, and potatoes--all the makings of a perfectly average lunch--on his way back up to the tenth floor when he notices the psychedelic paint job, just flicker out of the corner of his eye at first before he turns to investigate. How had he not noticed...?

The paint splattered up, down, and all around isn't the only thing that serves to catch the eye. There's something moving in the swirl of colors. Something very much four-legged and alive.]}

[Toothless is, in fact, currently seeing what patterns his long tail — as long as the rest of him — can make in the paint-splattered floor. He slaps it down at different intervals and succeeds at making a tree or almost a bush pattern in the bright colors he's assembled, which are very much bleeding together at this point.

He's so absorbed in this new technique that he doesn't notice Adam until the scent of chicken wafts into his nose.

Huh. Where's that coming from?

Toothless, eyes wide, glances around and then up, making a note of the Viking who appears to be watching him.]

_{[Shit. At the size of a small car, that is no normal reptile. He's not sure what it is, because as far as he knows dragons don't exist, at least not catlike ones that play around on the floor like some kind of huge, house-trained animal, but there's something sleek and reptilian about it, underneath the paint. Something unnatural.

Monstrous, to be exact.

Without prompting, Adam opens his arms, allowing everything he's carrying to fall to the ground. He's not afraid, not yet, but if he has to do something he'll need both arms.]}

Guess you're not the Cheshire Cat.

[The Night Fury blinks, watching everything drop to the floor, and then shakes his head, making no other movements. He knows a nervous Viking when he sees one. Or maybe a panicky one. It's hard to tell, right now, since he's more absorbed in his paints than the body language Adam's showing him.

Maybe that's the best way to display that he's not going to harm the Viking he hasn't seen before.

He reaches forward and draws a smiley face, red and green and white, in the paint.]

Holy shit.

_{[There's no one around to judge him for the surprise in his voice, aside from the... thing. Whatever it is, it's physically flexible enough and smart enough to know how to draw, not just smudges on the ground with its tail, but an actual smiley face.

Holy... shit. He'd pinch himself if he thought he was hallucinating, which he very well could be.]}

What the hell?

[Toothless looks back up at Adam at the comment. Startled statement, maybe. It's not really anything he can answer, though, and so he just trills quietly in the back of his throat — a greeting, trying to put the Viking at a little more ease.

It's worth a shot.

Encouraged, he outlines the shape of a fish next to the smiley face. Most of the shapes he knows are all very basic.]

_{[He doesn't know a whole lot about John's other children, but he does know one thing: they deal in stuff Adam hasn't dreamed of before. Hell hadn't changed that--if anything, it'd heightened his awareness of just how different they are from him. The paint-splattered lizard isn't an angel looking to borrow his body, and that's where the bulk of his expertise ends. The lilting sound it makes doesn't sound like the sort of thing something would make when it's about to pounce and eat you, but what does that count for? Adam shifts back on his heel, unable to help glancing over the smiley face again.

In what messed up world does a monster do that? Only in Wonderland.]}

You're drawing... Walmart stickers and Goldfish crackers?

_{[Cautiously, he crouches, reaching out blindly to grab the plastic-wrapped chicken while he watches Toothless.]}

You eat meat?

_{[Once he's unwrapped the top, he mimes tossing the bundle. More importantly, does this thing eat human meat?]}

[All right, now he's got Toothless' attention again. The dragon blinks at the smell of unwrapped food, ears going forward as all of his being focuses on Adam. He nods at the question, body still aside from an idle swish of his tail.

Food is serious business.

Even more serious than painting.]

_{[Is this thing... smart enough to figure out what he's saying? That it's quite capable of thinking on its own is a scary thought, not only because Toothless is something Adam's never seen before, but because the thing could also make its own decisions on whether or not it wants to attack something much bigger than a few morsels of chicken.

He lobs the bundle to the dragon's left so that it will have to turn its attention off him no matter what.

On the one hand, even Adam, who's never fought a monster in his life (or more like, never survived one) thinks that running away from something that looks as lithe as a cheetah is a stupid thing to try. On the other, the thing can't be harmless. It just can't be.]}

[Well, it's not fish. But Toothless steps forward slowly and sniffs the bundle, and doesn't find it lacking. As he chows down, he makes quiet and pleased trills in the back of his throat. It's not exactly an intimidating noise. More like something a cat would do if it found a tasty morsel.

But it's not a big morsel, either, and so Toothless looks back up at Adam, eyes wide. He makes a noise somewhere between a chirrup and a trill, blinking but otherwise not moving. Trying to be not at all intimidating — as much as he can, at least.]

_{[Adam stands up quickly, just in case. If he didn't know any better, if he were five years old again, he might have mistaken this moment for one of those discoveries any fantasy-loving kid would die for: finding some amazing, mystical creature out of nowhere and being able to goof around around with it like it were a pet.

He's not five anymore. This is nuts.

Back before his life had been taken over by monsters, and long-lost family members, and apocalypses, he'd left food out for neighborhood cats who acted more unfriendly toward people than this thing. When it's done eating, it just looks at him with its huge eyes like some kind of freaky baby animal hinting for a treat.]}

Right...

_{[He looks first at the salad, which is crappy healthy food even for people, then at the spilled potatoes, then at the paint again, then back to the dragon. The dragon? Sure, it's a dragon. It seems a little fitting that neither of them seem to know what to do with each other. It takes a moment or two for an idea to occur to him, one that might save him from making a reluctant call to Sam or Dean.]}

You stay here. _{[He takes a measured step back, trying to pass along the message with his eyes and tone.]} Stay.

_{[He leaves the way he came, and only when he's out of sight of the dragon does he release a breath that he's been holding in. Hell has nothing on the strangeness of day-to-day life here, but even after all this time, he still has the niggling suspicion his mind might be playing more tricks on him than just the kind colored in anguish and pain. A dragon playing with paint in a hallway? For fucking real?

There's a way to find out. Stupid, maybe, but he's already died twice more than anyone should come back from. "Stupid" is relative now.

About ten minutes later, Adam returns with a very different item in his hands. He's no pro at Pictionary, but he'd gotten the gist from Toothless' picture. He's holding two giant, raw fish, the kind the kid had fed the orca in Free Willy, the first thing that had come to his mind.]}

You like fish?

_{[He's not sure if he's disappointed to still see the dragon, or still surprised. Maybe both. Maybe he'd lost it a long time ago.]}

[Stay? Stay...

Well, he was already planning on staying, anyway. That's all right. Toothless goes back to painting when Adam leaves, making some more interesting and abstract shapes. He half wonders if it was just a ruse so that the Viking could make a proper break for it, and he's certainly surprised to see Adam come back.

And delighted, because he has a fish. Two fishes. He officially likes this Viking.

Toothless nods energetically in response to the question and walks closer, over his painting, still absolutely coated in those bright colors. He opens his very pink mouth, teeth retracted into his gums, and holds deathly still, waiting for Adam to toss him a fish.

Hoping he will.]

_{[If there's one person more confused to find Adam back, it's Adam himself. He's not even sure why he feels the need to test the limits of his luck and sanity, other than that his dad's half of his genetic code probably makes him a masochist in untold ways. Neither is he sure what's stranger: the dragon being able to draw, and nod, and understand basic questions, or it waiting for him to put a fish in its mouth just like Free Willy.

As long as it doesn't take an arm with it, what's the harm at this point...

Adam heaves the largest one up by the tail and drops it in with the odd image of sliding a torpedo into a tube.]}

You really are like a cat. People must not look as good as tuna.

_{[He's not complaining. A wild animal finding other food sources more attractive than people is a step up. That doesn't mean he has any more of a clue what he's dealing with, but...]}

[Delighted with the large fish, the Night Fury swallows it right down in one big and impressive gulp. Despite his appreciation and enthusiasm, he does wait to pop his teeth out when his mouth is closed — and then retract them again when his mouth opens, empty. Skittish Vikings always seem to be unnerved by them, and well, having them retracted is just one more perk of being a Night Fury as opposed to other dragons.

He's very proud of it, even if it's tough to learn how to do when you're a baby dragon.

Toothless trills his pleasure in the back of his throat, a high noise.]

_{[It should be a crime for something that looks like Toothless to sound so happy. The noises it makes are quite unlike anything he's ever heard from an animal, but that goes without saying when it's not actually an animal. Not one that should exist, anyway.

The really weird thing is, it has all the ferocity of a baby bird with its beak held wide open. The lack of teeth does a lot to make Adam curious, if not set him entirely at ease--though that's more to do with Wonderland in general than the dragon.]}

All right, tell you what...

_{[He glances down at the other fish before lifting his eyebrows and the fish along with them.]}

If you can draw me a house, I'll give you this. _{[He jiggles the fish for emphasis.]} Can you understand that? A house.

[Toothless blinks several times as he processes Adam's request. A house... a house...

Oh! A building! Like the lodges back in Berk! He sits up straighter, very alert, and then looks down at his paint and tries to think about how to depict a lodge. They have angled roofs and four sides, and great big doors with a lot of torches around.

The seriousness of his expression is almost comical as he begins his work, making blue lines in yellow paint on the wall. He first creates a square, and then attaches a sloped square to the top. While he's frustrated by it, it will have to do. Then, with his claws, he draws a long double rectangle on the side for the enormous doors of the lodge, and makes little blobs on the walls where torches would normally sit.]

You're pretty smart for a thing on four legs...

_{[Adam's not sure what he's witnessing anymore. Did he just feed a dragon its favorite food and ask it to paint a picture for him? He lifts his gaze to the ceiling, almost hoping for an answer. Instead he sees more paint and has to resist the urge to snort.

This place is beyond anything he could have imagined, just as Hell had been once upon a time.

Spell broken, he drops his attention back to the dragon, more baffled than anything else that it'd actually listened to his challenge and proved it could not only understand what he was saying, but it could mix colors, and draw, and make shapes like any human kid. In what fucking world did that happen? Adam knows from experience that he shouldn't, but he takes a step closer to watch, glancing back and forth between Toothless' determined expression and his...

... his "house," apparently.

It's accurate enough to impress Adam. The thing's no artist, but the gist of it's there. Walls, roof, doors... He turns to Toothless, still trying to compartmentalize the last fifteen minutes in a way that makes some sort of sense.]}

Ever heard of National Geographic? You should get a feature.

_{[For now, keeping his promise will do. He holds the fish out at arm's length for Toothless to take. It's earned it, and more than that, chased thoughts of Hell out of his mind for a few minutes, which is more than anyone else has succeeded in doing.]}

[He removes the fish gingerly from Adam's hand, not the voracious way that he wants to. Clearly they're making progress, but the Viking still seems skittish and the Night Fury can respect that. Actually, it's a touch flattering. He's glad to know that he's still somewhat ferocious even when he's covered in paint.

Once the fish is down his throat and he's purred his contentment out, he cocks his head at Adam's question. It sounds like he's not expecting an answer, but still. He's curious. What's the National Geographic?]

_{[Although the dragon doesn't seem interested in him in the same way he is the chicken and fish, Adam's still glad he gets to keep all of his body parts the second time around. It doesn't seem normal that something like Toothless can be so tame.

Adam interprets the head tilt in the most straightforward way he can.]}

I don't have any more.

_{[How much could this thing eat?]}

[That's a shame. It is. Toothless nods in understanding. He doesn't smell any more on him, either, so it's not one of the games of keep-away that Hiccup likes to do every so often. The Night Fury trills quietly at him, before coming closer — slowly, to sniff at his pants and get the scent of him down to memory.]

_{[Okay. Okay! So the dragon knows what he's saying! Why did it have to start sniffing him, then!?

Adam tries not to react, a part of him afraid of giving too strong a response, but he's hard put to stand still when something of Toothless' make and model comes closer for a good whiff. He gets the tingle of nervousness prey gets in the face of a predator, and he hates that he knows that feeling, that he'll never be able to completely forget it so long as he still has his memories.]}

I'm not--food. Really... not.

_{[It's not like trying to talk it down would do any good, but he says it, anyway.]}

[He looks up at Adam with wide, pleased eyes, and nods. Of course he isn't. Vikings aren't good for food — even the dragons who hunt them more specifically only do so to protect themselves or their eggs. Because Vikings can be just as dangerous as dragons. Dragons know it.

Toothless can sense that spark, that nervousness, within Adam and so he backs up a few steps again, not wanting to alarm him any further.

He has the Viking's scent. That's enough, for now.]

_{[He'd heard those urban legends about toddlers falling into enclosures at the zoo and coming face-to-face with wild animals, who hadn't? But he'd never thought he'd be that person. The dragon is intimidating just on the basis of being a fictional idea alone, but it backs off like it's nothing.

With more space between them, he can breathe again, but not entirely because of fear. There's something incredible at work here, something he'd never thought he'd be a part of in a million years.

Kind of like meeting angels. Go figure.]}

You know something, you're the first people-friendly monster I've ever met. I thought you were all dicks.

_{[People probably talk to their pets so much because they're safe in the knowledge that the pet can't talk back, like Toothless. He's more honest than he would be otherwise, not bothering to hide his surprise.]}

You're like a puppy.

[He can't talk, but his face is remarkably expressive. And as Adam compares him to a baby canine — it's taken him a while to learn what that is, but Henry has one — his eyes narrow and he turns his head in a way that just looks offended, pure and simple.

A puppy? He doesn't even have fur.]

_{[The image is in his head and now it won't leave. Maybe not like a puppy, but like a baby. A baby monster who hasn't gotten old enough or bloodthirsty enough to want to attack anyone yet.]}

What? You don't like that?

_{[It looks cheesed, which is an odd expression on anything that's not human, let alone a freakin' dragon with paws like dinner plates.]}

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