fire in the iron (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fireband) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thechanged2013-09-09 11:39 pm
fireband) wrote in thechanged2013-09-09 11:39 pm
Entry tags:
We Didn't Start the Fire (Yes We Did) | DAY 6: Nightfall
[OOC: Only one event here, but feel free to break off into separate threads and free for all in reaction. Just don't have multiple people reacting to him in ways that contradict each other, is all!]
It's not entirely clear what causes him to snap. He's been fighting the vines all day, in between bouts of flight and attempts to hide. The pressure has been hard on him. It causes something in his mind to come lose, a sort of stress he is no longer built to handle weighing on his shoulders. His heart beat to fast, and his breathing comes far too quickly.
He's helped, he thinks, maybe. He's kept the vines away from himself. But it isn't enough. It's closing in, and it terrifies him, and he doesn't know what to do. And in some point that terror, that need to get away, wake up something else in him.
A time when he was with someone else, a protector, a shield. A time when she almost couldn't protect him, and when he was almost killed by a world that is filled with nothing but hate.
He comes back from that memory, and all he can think is that he wants them to burn. He wants to hurt them like he couldn't hurt them before, as anger fills his heart once again. The burning fury of that moment of his death.
It starts suddenly. His more cautious attacks explode into something much more uncontrolled and dangerous, the vines that surround him going up in flames almost instantly.
It's hard to even recognize him after that, with the way that the molten veins have opened up all over his body, the way his eyes are nothing but fire.
He yells something primal, his skin blackening with heat, as he summons up the flames around them, screaming for them to burn hotter and brighter and to consume everything that would hurt him. He pushes his way into the Hall, the numerous vines there burning in a way that is far too uncontrolled to be safe for nearly anyone.
He doesn't think about that. He can't think about that. It's so much easier if he just burns like he's supposed to.
It's not entirely clear what causes him to snap. He's been fighting the vines all day, in between bouts of flight and attempts to hide. The pressure has been hard on him. It causes something in his mind to come lose, a sort of stress he is no longer built to handle weighing on his shoulders. His heart beat to fast, and his breathing comes far too quickly.
He's helped, he thinks, maybe. He's kept the vines away from himself. But it isn't enough. It's closing in, and it terrifies him, and he doesn't know what to do. And in some point that terror, that need to get away, wake up something else in him.
A time when he was with someone else, a protector, a shield. A time when she almost couldn't protect him, and when he was almost killed by a world that is filled with nothing but hate.
He comes back from that memory, and all he can think is that he wants them to burn. He wants to hurt them like he couldn't hurt them before, as anger fills his heart once again. The burning fury of that moment of his death.
It starts suddenly. His more cautious attacks explode into something much more uncontrolled and dangerous, the vines that surround him going up in flames almost instantly.
It's hard to even recognize him after that, with the way that the molten veins have opened up all over his body, the way his eyes are nothing but fire.
He yells something primal, his skin blackening with heat, as he summons up the flames around them, screaming for them to burn hotter and brighter and to consume everything that would hurt him. He pushes his way into the Hall, the numerous vines there burning in a way that is far too uncontrolled to be safe for nearly anyone.
He doesn't think about that. He can't think about that. It's so much easier if he just burns like he's supposed to.