Dragons games update

Hey guys been a busy week the lack of updates was bugging me so here's a 2.2k words update on Garchomp. It's a chapter beak from the last update so yeah. Next week I got more time so I'll fix up the grammar and add more then.

2

“Still think this isn’t a good idea,” father mumbled, his hand flicking the indicator handle. Jim furrowed his brow as they made the turn, the houses cycling away on either side of the street. The gradient between the neighbourhoods was obvious, Cassidy’s address a little ways into the ghetto.

“That’s like three times you’ve said that,” Jim replied. He didn’t get his father’s displeasure. He’d told him about the dinner as soon as possible, expecting encouragement, but instead all he got was the cold shoulder. It made him feel like something was wrong, but he couldn’t place what exactly.

His dad only agreed to drive him after Jim said he’d just walk there. Perhaps his father was afraid of him getting mugged, and judging by Cassidy’s neighbourhood, Jim couldn’t blame him.

“I know you want to spend time with this girl, but I wish you’d consulted me before committing to this,” his father said.

“She’s my girlfriend, dad,” Jim said. “what we do isn’t any of your business.”

“I know,” father sighed. “I’m just warning you, things don’t always go the way you expect them to. I wouldn’t mind if she was having dinner with us, however…”

“She wanted to take turns,” Jim replied with a shrug.

“Really,” father said, not like it was a question, but more of a statement. “I want you to call if there’s any problems, and be tactful, who knows how these Garchomp’s will react to a human dating their daughter…”

“I’ll lay the charms down,” Jim said confidently, his father rolling his eyes as they made another turn.

It wasn’t long before the car rolled to a stop, Jim stepping out onto the curb, dressed in one of his special jackets he saved for rare occasions. He glanced up at the homestead, remembering the time he’d walked Cassidy home back on there first date, the memory making him smile.

“Good luck, son, and don’t stick around for too long, I want you home by ten,” his father added, rolling up the window before pulling the handbrake. The car idled for a moment, then his father drove off, leaving the young man alone.

He turned and moved up to the porch, the front lawn loud with crickets. Light spilled through a few of the windows in the house, but he couldn’t hear any voices. He’d never been in a Pokémon’s house before, he wondered what kind of living and sleeping arrangements they had, then remembered he was literally about to find out.

He moved up onto the porch, the steps squeaking, Jim raising his fist to the door. Before he even finished knocking, he heard footsteps coming from just inside, and the door opened a second later.

In the doorway was a Garchomp, although it wasn’t Cassidy, but the resemblance was uncanny. She was tall, at least seven feet, her snout decorated with the yellow star he was familiar with, although it was a little faded, much like how a human’s hair colour fades with age. She was wearing a white dress that was long and billowy, like a gown one could wear comfortably around the house on a hot summer’s day. There were cut-outs for her bicep thorns, each one as long as his whole hand, shaped like little cones jutting from her blue scales.

Jim gasped as two clawed hands reached over his shoulders, pulling him into an overwhelming hug. Jim found himself smudged into another dragoness’ bosom, a strange, cinnamon-like scent filling his nose as the Garchomp breathed on his hair from above, her scales moulding around him like a cast.

“You must be Jim! It’s so good to meet you at last!”

“It is?” Jim asked, parts of her oversized dress filling his mouth, muffling his voice. Saying he was bewildered by the display would be an understatement, but he nevertheless tried to wrap his arms around the dragon to return the gesture, his hands barely meeting on the other side of her broad torso.

“My daughter has told us much about you,” the dragoness hummed, continuing the odd show of affection for a moment before pulling away, but leaving one of her hands on his arm. “Oh, but you must be cold, standing out here waiting for silly old me to get the door.”

She’d answered his knock quickly, almost suspiciously so, but Jim couldn’t bring himself to correct her – the dragoness’ expression was so full of adoration, and unironically, it reminded him of his own mother’s doting expressions.

His smile faltered, just a little, but the Garchomp was quick to notice, her chops dropping into a frown.

“You must forgive me, would you like a drink? I was just making a hot chocolate.”

“I-” She ushered him off the porch, her hand large enough to cover his whole shoulder. It didn’t matter what answer he had for the lady, she brought him inside, clicking the door shut behind them.

He began to undo his shoelaces, but the Garchomp put a hand on his arm to stop him. “Oh, never you mind that, you can wear your shoes, the place is filthy anyway.”

The panning view of their living room centred his vision, Jim quirking an eyebrow as he remarked at the dustless environment. The family portraits lining the dressers were polished, the counters were clean, and the carpet was stainless, if a bit bland.

“No, it’s fine,” Jim said. “I’ll just leave them here.”

She looked like the insisting kind of mother he didn’t understand the word no, but she immediately differed to him. “As you wish. Come,” she said. “Cassidy’s just upstairs. Please, have a seat. Cassidy!” she called. “Your friend Jim is here!”

They walked between a pair of couches, facing a small television mounted on an even smaller desk. The walls were stacked with boxes, some of them marked with black writing, Jim reading a few of the labels. Kitchen, Electric stuff, Plates and cutlery. He remembered Cassidy mentioning they’d only moved in recently, and the lack of small touches that were the heart of a lived-in home proved that.

“Thank you so much for coming,” the Garchomp added, beaming at him over her shoulder as she turned to the kitchen, not looking where she was going.

“Uh, good to be here,” he replied, clearing his throat. Despite her smiles he didn’t like the look on her face, it was like she saw him as a baby she was about to start playing peekaboo with. “Hot chocolate sounds nice.”

“Oh! Yes, of course, shouldn’t be a moment.” She turned mercifully around, picking up a boiling kettle. While she did that, Jim moved around the room to distract himself, wandering over to one of those framed photos, picking it up and peering through the glass.

Three Garchomp’s smiled back at him, two larger ones on either side of a smaller one. The one on the left he recognised as the mom in this very room, while the one on the right was a stranger, but it was obviously the father. He was a big guy with a barrel chest and horns as thick around as Jim’s arm, standing a head taller than the female.

Jim’s unsure expression morphed into a smile as he regarded the smallest dragon. She was barely tall enough to reach her parent’s knees, the mother holding one arm, the father the other as they all beamed at the camera in that captured moment. The Gabite’s underdeveloped horns were like two little capsules on either side of a tiny face, the bright, yellow eyes sitting above a thin mouth where two teeth poked out from the upper lip. Tiny Cassidy and her family were backgrounded by what looked like some kind of outcrop up on a mountain, a forest spilling over a vast countryside.

He put the photo back, taking a seat on the couch, drumming his fingers and staring up at various parts of the ceiling as he waited. He blinked as the Garchomp’s arm appeared from behind him, a steaming mug in her hand.

“Here,” she cooed. “I hope it is hot enough for you.”

The drink was steaming, but the temperature of the air was just as stuffy. He guessed dragons preferred the hotter places, Jim pulling at his collar, regretting his choice of jacket.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the Garchomp said. “we usually have the heater on at this time of night, I forgot humans are less prone to the warmth.”

“No it’s fine,” Jim repeated, but the dragoness turned away, adjusting a dial mounted just beside the television. As the room flooded with cool air, the Garchomp turned to beam at him again, clasping her hands in front of her as she stared at him, all with that great smile on her face.

He blew on his drink to look away, the liquid chocolate sticking to his taste buds in all the right ways. He glanced up at her over the rim of the mug, his chest twisting as she just looked at him contentedly.

“So,” he began, trying to act casual but sounding quite the opposite. “do you like living here? Compared to… wherever you lived before?”

“Oh, very much!” She nodded vigorously. She didn’t go on, Jim clearing his throat as he sipped at his drink.

“Cooool,” he said, dragging the word. Relief washed over him as he heard footsteps around one of the many branching hallways, a Garchomp he was all too glad to see walking round the corner.

“Heya,” Cassidy said, flashing him a warm smile. She was wearing a black singlet and a pair of shorts she was practically spilling out of, her hourglass hips defined against the clinging outfit. She turned to see her mother standing there, a wordless exchange passing between them as they met eyes.

“If you’ll excuse me, Jim,” the mother began, turning to another hallway. “I shall check on our supper, it should be ready soon.”

He watched her disappear round the corner, hearing a creaky door open somewhere out of view, gravel crunching as the Garchomp left the house. He raised a brow as he shot Cassidy a look. “Your dinner’s outside?”

“We roast our meals over a campfire out in the yard,” Cassidy explained. “Our appetites are a little too big for normal-sized ovens, and there’s not much room for a bigger one.”

“Cool,” he said, wondering what they had cooking back there. He could smell the faint whiff of roasting herbs, but nothing more specific.

“I hope mom wasn’t too clingy with you,” Cassidy added, sitting beside him. Her tail curled snugly round his leg.

“She was fine,” he lied, but Cassidy shook her head.

“She’s like that with everyone we invite over,” she said. “The neighbours, the cat that wanders round here sometimes, you name it. She can’t help herself.”

“It wasn’t what I was expecting,” he chuckled. “Guess you’ve given them plenty of forewarning about me. Spekaing of,” he added, gesturing between them. “They don’t, uh, know about our… well, the other night, do they?”

“You mean our boat ride?” she giggled. “I’m not sure. Garchomp have a good sense of smell, and I reeked of you that night, but they never mentioned it. Either way, maybe we should keep a lid on it.”

“It wasn’t exactly a topic I was going to bring up,” he said.

The two chatted for a while, about their studies and the Mythics’ progression this season, Jim wondering what was taking so long when he glanced at the clock. About a half hour later, the backdoor creaked open again, and he looked the way the mother had gone to see someone else striding into the room.

It was the father from the photo, though is youth was far behind him. The Garchomp was stretched to eight feet tall, his horns just grazing the ceiling of the house, and he was wider than any dragon he’d seen. A thick layer of blubber enveloped a huge set of arms and legs, dimpled with muscle. He was wearing a buttoned, short sleeved check shirt the kind all middle-aged fathers wear, his monstrous legs squeezed into a pair of jeans.

The floor rumbled as he walked inside, Jim’s eyes turning to what he was carrying. In his hands was a platter, the kind one might see a waiter carry, only twice as large. Sitting on it was a full-blown pig, not a baby one but an adult, its bronzed hide glinting in the light. It was laying on a bed of greens, surrounded by various fruits and vegetables. By the way its mouth was agape, he could tell it had been spit-roasted.

“Woah,” was all he could say. He met the gaze of the male Garchomp over the crispy ears of the pig, his demenour changing into one of seriousness. “Oh, uh, hello there Mister… Mister Cassidy?”

He wished he could bore his eyes out after saying that, the male Garchomp glaring at him for a moment before speaking, his rough voice so deep Jim could feel his bones shake with each word. “I hope pork shall suffice for tonight.”

“Yeah, it-it will,” he said, not sure what else to say. “I’m Jim, by the way, it’s nice to meet you.” He was getting flashbacks to his first visit to the drama club.

“I know who you are,” the Garchomp grumbled, making his way to the counter and setting the platter down. He glanced at Cassidy. “Please set the table, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” Cassidy replied. “I got it, Jim,” she said when he made to help her.