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Post by Rook Thriasi on Jul 27, 2017 9:05:27 GMT
The soiled planes. A land of jagged rock and burning hot sand. What better place for a conflicted man to wander when he felt as if his head were ready to explode? He had returned from the latest hunt for the creature that had invaded his body and his man. Somewhat victorious as it had relinquished its hold on him. The vines that had pulsed beneath his skin faded away leaving only ink like markings just beneath the skin. Shadows of what once was. And his brain, he hadn’t heard the whispers or been compelled since the battle. It wasn’t dead. He knew that. But he was glad his body was his own again.
He had returned to their people with his fellow soldiers. The ones that survived that is. His worry for Ives had nearly consumed him while he had been chasing the creature. Was he alright? Had the creature taken root in his mind as well? But his return wasn’t as expected. Ives words that would have likely sounded reasonable to others had hit a nerve with Rook. He felt as if he were being pushed again. Just like when he had fought in the war of the races. He had burned so many people to their deaths. Their screams became the soundtrack of his nightmares. And he felt that same urging from Ives. That push to get back out there again. To find the creature and take care of the problem for good. To keep them safe. That was what he had worked for his entire life. Keeping them safe. Keeping all the elves safe.
His mind was already a minefield of shattered memories and regret. It had taken such a small push from someone he cared for. Rather, the only person he cared for. He protected his people as a whole. But he kept them at arms length. Not making connections or friendships. Ives had been the only one to get under his skin. And now he was wondering if it had been a mistake. If he was being used again.
Fire wasn’t a common gift among his people and those gifted with it were often watched closer, kept on a shorter leash. Because unlike the others they didn’t give life or improve their surroundings. They destroyed it. Burning their enemies to ash. But of course when someone wanted something killed who did they call for?
He had walked until he was out of the forest. Walked until the hot sands burned his feet and a strange sulfur like stench assaulted his nose. Here. This was where he could release his fire. This was where his flames could burn without affecting anyone or anything. Here he could release the emotions that were so closely linked with his ability.
Rook reached back to pull his dark shirt over his head and tossed it carelessly to the ground a few feet away. The creature had left large vine like designs in his tan skin. The scar from its impaling him still prominent just above his collarbone and on his back. But it was Rook’s arms and hands that bore the brunt of his bodily damage. He was heavily scarred, the skin thickened and distorted by his flames that would just as readily take his life as another. There was always a cost for using his flames. Always.
He slowly lowered his body so that one knee pressed into the hot earth. Its warmth readily present even through the thick material of his pants. His fingers stretched across the sands and his eyes glinted a brilliant red before suddenly the area around him burst into flame. Fire shot from his fingertips to rocket across the sand and crawl up the towers of rock all around. He closed his eyes and his back hunched against the exertion as he sent the flames further, spiraling higher until the licked at the feathers of a low flying bird.
I’m not just a pawn.
The flames twisted and turned. Crawling further across the sand, devouring anything they encountered.
I’m not just a soldier.
He had told Ives those very words. And Ives had apologized. But it didn’t change how he felt. It didn’t change the anger he felt at everyone who had ever pushed him. Everyone who had told him to control his fire but release it on who they deemed the enemy. All at once Rook released the fire. It ate at the dead plants it could find but eventually died in a massive plume of smoke. And still he knelt. The blisters from the flames covered his hands. But he could finally breathe.
If anyone happened upon him he might look like a man mourning the scene of a fire, not the creator that had urged it to burn. His blue eyes were closed and his shoulders rose and fell in rhythmic breaths despite the smoke, the hint of a smile curling his chapped lips.
((Open to anyone that wants to deal with angsty, probably dangerous Rook XD)) |
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Post by Ea Cailean on Jul 27, 2017 14:20:52 GMT
This place wasn't... pleasant. Ea didn't like the smell of the gasses that rose from the fissures. They made him feel antsy, as if he were made of paper and being dangled above a flame. He worried that perhaps they were flammable. Perhaps this wasn't a good idea after all. He urged his reluctant horse onward, cursing softly under his breath at the beast the whole time. Horsemanship hadn't come easily to him and most horses seemed to pick up on his inexperience and on the smell of smoke that seemed to linger in the folds of his clothes and close to his skin.
He felt the flare of heat like a live thing licking across his skin. It caught him off guard but he wrenched his horse in the direction it came from and saw beyond a jagged line of rock the flare of fire. It burst upward and outward as if trying to consume the barren rock. Wisps of smoke from the occasional dead plant caught in it's path were quickly lost under the exultant heat. His horse shied and tried to bolt but he pulled hard the reins, wheeling it in a tight circle. Freeing one of his hands from the reins he reached out with his other and called, gently. The closest flames, now dying quickly, leaned towards him and before they extinguished a little ball lept into his palm. He cradled it close to his chest, holding it just far enough away that it wouldn't singe his clothes.
His horse laid back it's ears but no longer face with a roaring wall of flame it settled, breathing hard and sweating. He urged it forward again, though the stress of travel had briefly fled him in the face of something so beautiful as the display he'd witnessed. He wondered if perhaps one of those gas pockets had caught. But as he rounded the bend he saw a man on his knees, looking out over the sooted ground. Ea fed the little ball of flame in his hand, letting it leech on his magic as he rolled it between his fingers, delighting in the heat and loveliness of it.
"Beautiful." Ea said simply, a smile curling his lips. He worked out how to dismount one handed, though with less grace than he would've liked. He stayed a good distance away from the other man, close enough to converse but far enough to try and give him space. He liked to give strangers space, especially if they might be dangerous. "Wasn't it lovely? Was it you, or did a gas pocket ignite? It didn't look natural but I'm not as familiar with gas fires."
His enthusiasm was practically palpable.
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Post by Rook Thriasi on Jul 27, 2017 21:17:12 GMT
Slow even breaths left his lips. Particles of sand and small bits of ash clung to his beard and long dirty blonde hair that hung messily around his shoulders. For just a moment he had let his mind escape. Let the fire take over with its eager hungry tongue. It always wanted more and more. More than he could give. Perhaps that was why it ate at his skin so. The dangerous beast lashing out at its master, a caged tiger desperate for its freedom.
He hadn't expected anyone to find him here. It was why he had traveled so far from his home. So that his fire could surge and release the emotions that cluttered his mind without catching anyone or anything in the crossfire. It was the voice that reached his ears that made his smile fade. And the muscles along his scarred spine to stiffen. He took a long breath and pushed it out through his nose before standing and turning to see the red haired stranger who was artfully rolling a ball of fire in his palm. Beautiful. It wasn't exactly the term Rook would have used to describe the element that defined it. The one that this man apparently had an affinity for himself. The veins in his blue eyes were strained like a man who hadn't slept in days, the crimson making his blue eyes appearing more gray and dull than they normally did. He narrowed his eyes as he watched the stranger, his brow furrowing.
The stranger kept his distance and Rook's gaze flitted briefly to the uneasy horse then back to its master when questions bubbled excited from his maw. There it was again. Another descriptive term that in his mind did little to explain fire. It wasn't beautiful. It wasn't lovely. It was hungry. Greedy. Addictive. Powerful.
"Do you always ride up to a complete stranger and start spewing questions?" He ask flatly, his voice a low crackling rumble that rose from his chest like a tide. But he had met few in his long life that had the element of fire. And even fewer that could manipulate it effectively. This man that was keeping a ball of flame alive while it rolled eagerly in his hand made the elf take notice. But this man was no elf, his visage spoke of human but his ability of magic. A mage.
"You have an affinity for it as well I see." He thrust his chin at Ea's outstretched hand. "Did you follow me?" Suspicious, ever so suspicious of those around him. Even the ones he trusted most.
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Post by Ea Cailean on Jul 27, 2017 21:54:02 GMT
The scarred stranger didn't particularly concern him, even one who so clearly has an affinity for his own element. Ea had his own scars, mostly covered by cloth. His hands were largely free of them, and the ones on his forearms were quite concealed for the moment. Fire was a dangerous gift to have, or perhaps a particularly demanding master. Ea would rarely admit to having a master but perhaps to fire he would yield. It was, after all, a part of him in a way nothing else could be. But it was also beautiful in Ea's eyes. Perhaps that was his own vanity speaking though.
"Oh, often enough." The fire mage shrugged and, with a slight expression of regret, severed the thread of magic he used to feed the flame. It reach hungrily for the edge of his sleeve but he closed his hand on it before it could do more than singe. It did there, against his skin, and he was almost sad. Such an ephemeral thing, fire. It did not linger long though often it's effects did. "Questions, I find, are an excellent way to start conversations with strangers. Just like it's done here you see."
He almost laughed at the implication that he had followed the other man. Though Ea had spent plenty of his life studying people, most of his life had been surrounded by humans and mages. He'd only dealt with the other kinds on occasion and had not really had the time to study them. So he made no assumption to the other man's race, only acknowledge the common bond between them of flame. He was, Ea decided, handsome enough in a rough sort of way. Certainly not so breathtaking as to make Ea pursue him- though he did like a good chase.
"Follow you? Whatever for? I'm here for much the same reason you are, I suspect. Not much here for fire to burn. There aren't many places where fire is rendered relatively harmless." Though large displays of magic were exhausting, sometimes he felt like the magic was brimming up inside him. Like it would eventually burn him up like an oil soaked wick. It helped to get it out, once or twice a year.
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Post by Rook Thriasi on Jul 28, 2017 3:33:03 GMT
Rook didn't respond to the strangers reasoning for questions. His only reaction if any was a deepening of the scowl that cast shadows into the lines of his face. He disliked his question being answered with others even if he had given the stranger the exact same treatment. He stared unflinching as the red haired fellow explained he was there for likely the same reason. And given how he had controlled the fire earlier Rook knew he mist have an affinity for fire. Great minds. Or just frustrated fire users needing an outlet.
"Well now that you sated your curiosity why don't you hop on your pony and ride on."
He crossed his arms, the blistered forearms and hands not bothering him in the least. He was accustomed to it by this point in his life and the nerves were permanently damaged anyway, the ache was always there. The stiffness from bending nothing but scar tissue was something he dealt with daily but given his line of work it wasn't a major issue. Maybe the grip on the sword he wore at his side wouldn't be as strong as it was fifty or sixty years ago. If so he didn't notice.
With his words hanging in the air Rook turned his back to the stranger with a tired sigh.
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Post by Ea Cailean on Jul 28, 2017 14:53:07 GMT
Ea noted the scowl but his own smile didn't dim. the only shift of expression was in his eyes, a glint of mischief. His voice dropped a little, almost to a purr. He didn't particularly like being dismissed. Especially by someone being so condescending when he'd been nothing but civil. Well, civil enough for him. He judged the body language and responded perhaps not in the way most often expected. Rather than push against the defensive walls that the scarred man had in place, Ea took a route more suited to himself.
"I would hardly say my curiosity is sated. You'd have work a lot harder to sate me." The words were purred, a challenge. Trying to get a rise out of the other fire mage. Maybe he was picking a fight. He didn't analyze his own motives too closely, but perhaps there was something in him that wanted to see if he could stand toe to toe with another who held his same element. He'd never had the chance.
"Besides, you seem to have swept this area quite clean and it would be a shame not to use a stage so amply set." He started to unfasten the cuffs of his shirt, letting the fabric fall back from forearms laced with fine, silvery scars. They weren't as excessive as the elf's and they certainly took on a different pattern- each scar was fine and straight, as though drawn with a knife. Then he knelt to undo his boots, apparently unconcerned with the other's continued presence.
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Post by Rook Thriasi on Jul 29, 2017 20:08:55 GMT
"I would hardly say my curiosity is sated. You'd have work a lot harder to sate me."
Rook couldn't stop that smirk that twisted his lips. Brazen little bastard. "I think you underestimate me." He replied in his normal flat tone although his smirk lingered. the sound of rustling clothing caused his attention to flit back to the stranger. His shoulder rolling back so that he could see the red haired man as he removed his shirt and knelt to undo his boots. A stage so aptly set? So was it a firefight that the boy had in mind? Rook wasn't particularly wise, he wasn't stoic or steady like many his age. Elves in general were on a different plane than the man touched by fire. He was emotional and reckless. Greedy and devastating. He was here today because a few words from Ives had set him off. So the thought of a fight with someone of his own element intrigued him.
Never had he been able to fight fire with fire although he was curious how it might work. Rook had kept his pants and boots on although his shirt had been tossed free of his flames earlier on. Why the other man might remove his shoes perplexed him and he turned back to fully see the bright haired man. "You wouldn't even buy me dinner first?" His flat voice had a slight teasing tone to it and suddenly flames erupted from the skin of his hands. Engulfing them entirely. "Well then, lets play." Without warning or waiting to see if the man was ready Rook dropped to one knee. Both hands falling against the sandy earth to send a jet of flames rippling across the sand toward the stranger. It crackled and snapped as his moved with surprising speed. Greedy fingers reaching out to Ea hungrily.
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Post by Ea Cailean on Jul 31, 2017 18:25:14 GMT
Ea really hadn't been trying to start a fight. He'd just intended to go about his business in this area, already touched by flame. It seemed appropriate and if it happened to piss off the other man than what better. He hadn't quite been ready for things to leap to violence so quickly. Really, he hadn't been ready at all. "Typically, you buy dinner for me?"
The response end in a note of surprise as flames flickered in the corner of his eye. He looked up in time to see him lay his hands down and send them racing across the sand. Already kneeling, Ea didn't move. He let them come, unable to keep from laughing in delight as they danced around him. What clothing he had left on began to burn and he let it. It was too bad he couldn't simply bask in the heat of this- it was hard to find space to make a large enough fire to crawl into, and most of those spaces were public so people wouldn't appreciate him sleeping nude in the midst of a bonfire though he considered it during some winters. He spread his arms to welcome the flames, calling them to him and wrapping himself in them. He claimed them in pieces, taking sparks and feeding them his own magic until they roared into proper flames, his.
And then he sent them back, falcons of flame with burning white eyes that streaked towards the kneeling elf. And yet they were silent but for the crackle of flame, absent the searing cry of a true falcon hunting. Nor did they attack like normal birds with open talons and beaks, only swept their wings forward to engulf him for his hubris. Ea was Master of Fire. He would allow no challenger to go unpunished.
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Post by Rook Thriasi on Aug 2, 2017 1:29:20 GMT
Releasing the wave of fire was like one long exhale. But the action took him back to another time. A time when he had used his flames for the benefit of his kind. A time when he lost count of just how many people he burned alive. But if there was one thing Rook would change about fire it would be that it recognized him instead of treating him like a sacrifice, something to be burned. He watched as the flames engulfed Ea but instead of screams the man laughed. And that was when he knew he had met a true wielder of flames, someone they embraced instead of burned. It was enough to make him freeze in awe. Not reacting even when his own flames came under the other mans power and arched back at him fiercely.
On each side the flames rose, coming together to catch him like a rat in a trap. But still he didn't move. And at the very last second he closed his eyes. Sweat beading on his bare skin only to be licked away by the hungry flames. It took more effort than expected to stop the flames from engulfing him and even so he could feel where they touched his skin before he forced them down. Pushing them outward away from himself with a pained sound deep in his throat.
He didn't put any more magic into the flames but he didn't rise from where he crouched. Possibly because he couldn't. His pale eyes opened to peer at Ea over the field of flames that crackled restlessly between them. He didn't have anything to say. He wouldn't have known what to say even if he wanted. It was obvious that he was bested in this battle for the flames embraced one creator and ate at the other. He couldn't win. But that didn't mean he was going to tuck his tail like some whipped dog. So he knelt as he gathered his energy. Pale eyes watching the man for another onslaught. |
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Post by Ea Cailean on Aug 3, 2017 19:29:48 GMT
Ea did not conjure more flames. Nor did he reach for them again. He didn't try to put out the smolders in his pants and boots, writing them off for lost and more intent on making sure he wasn't caught off guard again. He didn't lash out. Some of the giddiness settled in him, though he couldn't quite lose the brilliant smile that had lit his face from the embrace of the flames. He passed his fingers through those nearest him, which bent towards him like a dog eager for the touch of it's master though he had put no magic to them.
There was, however, the slightest tinge of envy when Rook pressed the flames away from himself, stopped them. It was so hard for him to stop fire once he'd made it. A small flame or spark, sure. But something like this? He just had to let it burn. So he did. He straightened to his full height, looking down at Rook where he crouched. Anger slowly began to creep in where ecstasy had previously held sway, but at the same time it was hard. Hard to be angry when he knew how hard this was. Fire was unforgiving. Fire made you hard. It may have been beautiful, but that didn't make it any less dangerous or violent. Or hungry. It would devour you if you let it.
His breath hissed between his teeth at the sudden pain on his skin and he immediately reached up. Though he had not been as finely dressed as he normally would be, Ea liked to wear his wealth. And he had a strong preference for gold, warm and soft. The metal in the chain around his neck and the bands around his arms had soften and he pawed them off, momentarily distracted from the elf. He could still feel bits of the delicate chain around his neck that had first begun to give in to the heat of the fire, beads of metal etched into his skin. To him, though, it was not white hot pain. It was more like ice, sharp and bitter, eating into his skin. It never ceased to hurt, no matter how many times it happened.
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Post by Rook Thriasi on Aug 4, 2017 0:28:33 GMT
The flames didn't love him like they did Ea...or maybe they did, just too much. But either way the simple actions Ea made in touching the eager flames would have blistered and burned him. Just as his hands were blistered and cracked from the flames that had erupted from his palms. Just as the red welts that were scattered here and there where the hungry flames had reached him. He watched in silence as the mage pawed at his jewelry that must have heated from the flames. Rook was still breathing heavy as he climbed to his feet. His movements noticeably slower and weaker than they had been before. That push, or rather turning the flames had taken a lot out of him.
"Truce." He breathed, and hated himself for it. But he was done. If the stranger decided to burn him alive now then so be it but he had no gas left in the tank. He reached up to brush sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. Once the flames died away he slowly moved toward the stranger. His unappealing and heavily scarred hand held out to shake his hand. "Rook." He breathed with the hint of a smile on his stern features. |
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Post by Ea Cailean on Aug 4, 2017 21:30:42 GMT
Ea stiffened when Rook began to climb to his feet, waiting. He took half a step back, trying to make sure there was enough space between them that he couldn't be charged. In a hand to hand fight, he was useless- sure, he could hurt the stranger dearly but if he took a knife to the gut it would do plenty of damage. The offered truce was welcome though, even if he eyed the other warily. Still, age had taught him something of diplomacy. And it was so rare to meet someone else who understood fire. Carefully, he advanced across the distance between them.
"Ea Cailean." He shook his hand. He didn't hesitate over the burned flesh though he knew the contact must hurt. If Rook had offered, he wouldn't turn that away. He didn't quite smile, but inclined his head in some kind of hospitable gesture. As the fire died around him, some of his energy seemed to have gone with it. "That was an interesting spat."
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Post by Rook Thriasi on Aug 11, 2017 7:24:24 GMT
[nospaces] [attr="class","biggieno"]  [attr="class","textieno"]
Rook took the man's name and filed it away. His blue eyes flicking down to Ea's hand that clasp his own. Envious that his skin didn't thicken and burn as his did after wielding fire. "It was that...I don't meet many elves with the gift of fire. It is not the most welcome of elements in the forest." A cruel smile came to his lips at the truthful words. Even as someone who used his ability to protect his people he was still seen as a risk. A taker, not a giver. As was his element.
[break][break]
His hand dropped from Ea's after the shake a slight jerk of his chin given to the jewelry Ea had tossed away when it burned his skin. "Don't forget your gold." The statement was flat and although he hadn't said anything out of bounds it was obvious he was taking a barb at the fellow. Such gaudy chains as if he had something to prove. Was his wealth something he was so proud of? Material things had little interest to Rook.
[break][break]
He let his pale eyes slip over the fire mage before him. His shirt having been burned away without even a mark left as evidence. Other than the chains of course. He could see the scars on the man's skin. Many of them perfect straight marks. Very much different from his own assortment of burns and marbled flesh. "Fire doesn't hurt you at all, does it?" He ask slowly.
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Post by Ea Cailean on Aug 11, 2017 19:26:34 GMT
"Many mages can manipulate fire a bit, but I haven't met any who hold a candle to you." Except himself, of course. But Ea didn't mind paying a compliment where it was deserved. He had heard that elves were particularly strong in the elemental magics. "It is not the most welcome of elements anywhere. And yet without fire we would not have civilization as it is today." He didn't try to make the grasp between them linger. His eyes glanced towards where the jewelry lay discarded and he shrugged slightly. Part of him, bitter at the throbbing burns that still flared where the jewelry had been, wanted to leave it there.
"It's not going anywhere." The statement didn't particularly offend him. He had a fondness for the trappings of wealth- most of his childhood had been spent seeing it on other people, raised to believe that their wealth made them powerful, kept them safe and fed. In many ways it did. Money could move mountains among almost every people. Now as an adult he had quite the access to the very trappings he had once admired and he quite enjoyed them. It satisfied some deeply guarded part of him to have things, and not to want for them.
He smirked a little as he watched Rook's eyes slid over hims, posture shifting slightly. Almost suggestive. Habits are hard things to shake, after all. Now that the anger had passed, he was also curious. "No, not fire itself." He almost went on, to talk of the quirks of magic that so deeply inhabited his blood and body. Then he stopped. Let it never be said that Ea couldn't be prudent when he wanted to be. So he covered the hesitation with a sly smile. "Though you're welcome to try a bit more, if you'd like. It's certainly one way to get me out of my clothes."
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Post by Rook Thriasi on Aug 11, 2017 19:44:18 GMT
Rook didn't reply to Ea's comment about fire. Singing its praises rather. Fire indeed had many uses but in the end it would always be the one that devoured, not the one that created. When Ea said he wasn't leaving he tensed ever so slightly. Wondering if that was a hint that another wave of fire would be coming soon. At this distance he wouldn't be able to stop whatever came his way. But then Ea shifted his stance and his words that sounded rather suggestive reached the elven man's pointed ears. The notion caused his eyes to move up to the mages face. Surely he was misinterpreting the situation. Regardless, he had Ives.
Or did he?
The thought settled like a stone in his stomach. Part of him rebelling at the idea of possibly doing anything to hurt the man he had been through so much with. And another more sinister part of him wanted to see the look on Ives face when he heard of it. He was still hurt and reeling from his return home that had made him feel worse than before he left. And considering that he had been possessed by a strange creature that was saying a lot.
It wasn't as if he were overly attracted to the man, although how he wielded fire was something to behold. It was more that he wanted to hurt someone who had hurt him. And so he found himself skirting that dangerous line between temptation and taking action. "Is than an invitation?" Came his deep rough reply although he made no move toward the mage. |
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