Dawgrim's Reek ep. 6: Blarrt-to-Heart

[Wyvern]

Last time, on Dawgrim’s Reek…

 

*Cue a brief flashing image of Dawgrim tackling Blarr to the floor, which cuts to black as an ominous bass riff booms away in the background*

 

Dawgrim’s best game backfired as Evil Orcy spread his scripted rumors, greatly diminishing both suitors chances of courting Triska to Home Hogswill.

 

*Cue a long shot of Gurt with his arms raised to the sky, continuing to cry out “Nooooo” long after all the rest of the actors and camera crew have left.*

 

But with Dawgrim ready and willing to connect with Triska and take their intimacy to new heights, will our goblin hero be able to advance his quest for Home Hogswill stardom while clearing up any miscommunications?

 

*Cue the image of Dawgrim standing on a soap box with the words “Triska, Wanna Date?” scrawled over his chest in block white letters. The image lingers on the screen for several minutes before very slowly fading out.*

 

Find out now, on an exciting new episode of Dawgrim’s Reek!

 

---

 

The cameras focus in on a set of rickety wooden tables that have been aligned in a corner of Celes Crusader’s abandoned café, with Almost Dragonic Brand Borrowed Specter Sheet Painting Covers™ acting as tablecloths and an arrangement of knives and mini-pitchforks placed as dining utensils. An orange “Home Hogswill - Coming Soon” drape hangs over a circular buffet where a wide variety of different gruels are being served, with each lumpy tray offering a varying tint of the same dull brown-ish color. A special tray marked “Almost Dragonic Brand Extra Bubbly Swine Slaw™” has the least amount of gruel on it by far, though whether that has to do with the set design or the actual size of the Swine Slaw package is anyone’s guess. The cameras shift past a few stray cameramen and a little tin wash basin until they arrive at the two focal points of the near-empty Gobulard Academy Messhall, Dawgrim and Blarr. The obnoxious text of the show’s title promptly blocks the characters from view.

 

Dawgrim’s Reek

Sponsored by Almost Dragonic Brand Extra Bubbly Swine Slaw™ - “oink oink, good”

 

“Well… this ssstinks.”

 

Dawgrim sighs and sweeps his claws through his backward wig of wavy black hair, his tiny white lunch bib covering only a quarter of the chest scales displayed through his half-buttoned tan shirt. The Gobulard hunk loosens the “D/T XXX” belt buckle holding his breeches in place, and stretches his custom black leather wing covers as if they were mini-jackets. He dabs at his gruel with a claw, then shoves it to the side and glances over at Blarr with a look of contempt.

 

“You know… if it weren’t for you, I bet I’d be knee deep in Trissska affection right about now.”

 

“Oooh zip it.” Blarr scoops up a handful of sloppy gruel and stuffs it into his mouth, chewing glumly. “I spread another rumor that we broke up and decided to switch our sexual identities back to normal. What more do you want?”

 

“What more? How about the soon-to-be Home Hogswill Queen cradled in my arms?” Dawgrim pulls out his sharpened comb from one of his shirt pockets and points it at Blarr, only to raise a brow at his rival’s sudden heated expression. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re still pursuing Trissska as well? After what you got us into?! Gimme a break!”

 

“Right you are, Dawgrim. And I’ll continue to compete for her paw, or my name isn’t Evil Or…” An awkward silence falls over the two actors as Blarr pulls out a script from his pockets and flips through the pages, scanning over the words until he reaches the correct passage. “Blarr. No Evil or Or, just Blarr.”

 

“Have it your way, uhhh… you don’t ssstand a chance.” Dawgrim stumbles over his lines a bit as he recovers from Blarr’s gaffe, rapping his claws along the edge of the table in a nervous twitch. “She’d never date sssomeone who eats ssstandard goblin gruel like that anyway. You aren’t getting anywhere until you try Almost Dragonic Brand Extra Bubbly Swine Slaw™ - ‘oink oink, good.’ Man, I need a drink.”

 

Dawgrim turns his back on Blarr and shifts off of his bench with a snap of moldy wood. The overgrown lizard pulls out his script once his back is turned to the cameras, swinging his tail left and right as he wanders over to a beverage keg while reading. He examines the next section of plot, silently rolling his eyes at the thought of yet another wigged troglyodyte entering into the picture. Wyvern pauses, however, as he notices a little list of items scribbled in calligraphy on the lower right-hand corner of his script page. He scratches one of his horns at the “Wyv~ go and buy…” line that heads the list, and mutters the items to himself as his mind works over the not-so-puzzling list.

 

“Handcuffsss… black silk ssscarf… honey…?”

[Signe]

With Dawgrim's back turned, he fails to see Blarr, looking up from his script, slowly keel over and land with a series of muffled thuds.

 

Nor does he notice the slight, intriguingly-scented haze that presages the entrance of one Skirla Innosensual.

 

Accompanied by her handmaidens, each dressed like jailbait, Signe sways into view. The source of the haze appears to be the combined effect of the talcum powder turning her black wings white and the smoke curling slowly from her cleavage, nestled into which is a crucifix. The faint scent of scorched succubus adds a piquant note to her naturally spicy scent.

 

Looking unnaturally demure, Skirla, New Girl In School, is wearing a catholic school girl uniform, obviously shortened and tightened for it's current occupant. The red plaid skirt barely covers her perky bottom, and the white blouse strains at the seams to contain her demonically globular breasts. Her sleek black hair is trapped in two braids that hang down between her powdered wings, though the front has been teased up into something resembling the dreaded california wave in an attempt to conceal her horns.

 

Undulating slowly to a position just behind Dawgrim and glancing quickly at the Sex Ed. textbook she's carrying, the front of which has her script taped to it, Skirla ignores Blarr's panting as her progress gives him a view directly up her skirt. Moistening her cherry flavoured pink lips with the tip of her tongue, she murmurs just loudly enough to be picked up by the boom mic that hovers attentively over her head. "excuse me, are you Dawgrim?" A look of concentration passes over her face before - yes, there it is - a faint blush stains the succubus' cheeks a rosy pink.

Edited May 25, 2009 by Signe

[Wyvern]

Dawgrim freezes and sniffs at the now slightly pheromonal haze surrounding him, immediately connecting it to the undeniably sultry sound of Signe’s voice as she reads her first line of dialogue. Some vague attempt to sound more innocent seems to be present in the succubus’ tone, but the deep sinful quality of her voice is impossible to hide… the sound of someone who knows what they want, and knows that they’re going to get it. A delivery that might be compared to the role-playing vignettes people come up with for a little excitement before sleep, playful and self-aware.

 

Wyvern gulps and raises a shaky claw to his wig, adjusting it over the sweat that seems to have already broken out over his forehead. Twisting his tail stinger on the ground and deciding that he shouldn’t count his chicks before they happen to be succubi, the lizard takes a deep breath and turns around to face Skirla with the flyest Dawgrim smile he can muster. Which is promptly reduced to a transfixed gaping jaw when he gets a load of her outfit.

 

“Sssskirla...” Wyvern’s eyes criss-cross as they follow the curling trail of smoke past the succubus’ blushing cheeks, working their way down her neck until they practically collide upon noticing the expertly placed religious symbol sizzling in her cleavage. The reptilian actor shakes his head a little and pinches himself in an attempt to regain focus, only to have his forked tongue roll out at the sight of the New Girl’s excuse for a skirt. “Sssskirla.”

 

Skirla glances upwards for a moment to maintain her innocent look, tilting her hips a bit to give Dawgrim a slightly better angle of her thighs.

 

“Yes, Skirla. Innosensual.” Skirla raises a hand to her hair and plays with one of her braids as she speaks, her hand motions far too slow and suggestive to convey anything even close to an innocent girl’s nervousness. “I’ve heard so many nice things about you, Dawgrim. It is Dawgrim, isn’t it?”

 

Wyvern croaks and lifts his script up to his face with a trembling claw, trying to remember his character’s name.

 

“Y-y-yesss.” Wyvern tries to regain some control over his dialogue by repeating to himself that Skirla is only a character, but only grows twice as aroused when he considers the actress in question and their many memorable play times together. He speaks in an un-Dawgrim-like squeak reflective of his excitement. “I-in the flesh.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Dawgrim.” Signe smiles a knowing smile that could pass for an innocent smile, her eyes reading Dawgrim like a book. It takes a minute or two for her to pull off the blushing trick again. “I’d like us to be friends. Would you like to be my friend?”

 

Dawgrim nods vigorously, the reaction almost automated in his mind.

 

“Good. Because I really need a study partner.” Skirla’s lips put the emphasis on “really,” almost kissing the syllable as it falls from her mouth. “And I thought, maybe we could help each other study.”

 

Dawgrim nods and stammers a little under his breath, his eyes widening into huge saucers as Skirla shows him the Sex Ed book she plans to study from. An encyclopedic tome that bears the promise of more than just biology, with over 200 pages bookmarked.

 

“I uhhhh…” Dawgrim clears his throat and tugs at his collar, accidentally pulling off his lunch bib and revealing more of his scaly chest in the process. He uses the bib to wipe the sweat that’s gathered around his neck, then tosses it aside and searches for his place in the script in vain. When he finally speaks, it’s almost in a whisper. “I mean, uhhh… I guess we could give it a shot.”

 

The camera lenses turn to Skirla Innosensual for a reaction, only to steam up and lose focus as the heat of the situation proves to be too much for any equipment to handle. The sound of Blarr’s panting is the last thing that’s heard faintly in the background as the visuals snap to black.