[SE] flame to please

Melita

yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard

Content with her recent shopping trip, acquisitions, and gift notions, all Melita had to do was await the completion of Niki’s metal work, and she could hasten off elsewhere. Figuring why waste the rest of the day hovering and waiting around, she and her companions opted for a quiet area for a picnic, unbothered and undaunted by the Grounds’ broken proportions. If anything, the random isles along the woodland served as a less than haunting reminder about the shitty times behind the barrier.

Munching on her latest sandwich acquisition, she sat upon one of the rocks, letting her feet dangle in the cooler water. Tossing Fangorn and Sila portions and pieces of the meat within, she hummed, thoughts roaming to the next venture and mission. Before long though, the gourd and dragon were glancing up, huffing out warnings. “Honestly, you two worry too much, you know. I can't have companions with anxiety,” she mentioned and motioned with a singular hand wave. But then she was glancing up towards their repeated grumblings, noticing the smoke beginning to contort and billow out across the sky. “Oh, lovely,” came on a dry complaint, stuffing a sigh downwards.

I am the ocean and the battered shore
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury

Liam

Are you the cure or disease?

The Grounds were not a region that Liam frequented, and yet, somehow, he'd ended up here, wandering through the Outer Brambles without any particular destination in mind. The broken islands were difficult to traverse, and he often found himself doubling back along a path or skirting around the edge of a deeper portion of the water in an effort to find an easy crossing. It didn't make for a relaxing walk, but at least it took his mind off of everything for a while.

It was around lunchtime when he stumbled across another person - a redhead he didn't recognize, accompanied by a dragon and a vampire gourd, which struck him as a particularly strange combination. His own companions, intrigued, sat upon his shoulders and chirped friendly greetings - friendlier by far than Liam's neutral expression, anyway. Still, summoning some dregs of polite interest, he offered a quiet apology. "I'm sorry to interrupt," he said, pausing as though unsure whether to walk right by or turn back. But before he could decide one way or another, his companions turned their attention to the sky (and the plume of smoke drifting there), and Liam frowned. "Should probably get away from the fire," he commented gruffly, in case the woman was inclined to stick around. After dealing with forest fires all season in the Greatwood, he was rather more interested in getting the hell away from the source of the smoke, but the gentlemanly part of him couldn't just leave the woman behind.

Do you still take as you please?

Melita

yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard

Melita might have been offended that her infamy didn’t come with her everywhere, but nonetheless, she seemed less than impressed as a stranger came rambling through while she was already relinquishing her position on the stone. She gave him a snort instead, and a grand yawn to show she was neither fussed with the incoming fire, nor with him, hitching her things along her shoulder and beginning to gather her companions as they flickered about. “Gee, thanks,” in a ‘no shit sherlock’ salute, but instead of trekking back towards the inland portion, she began wading out amongst the water, anklet around her leg allowing and affording her the ability to simply float along the surface of the veneer, Fangorn in her hands and Sila flying onward. They could roam to the next isle, or head more into the Grounds adornments; pick up Iskra’s gift.

She wouldn’t have even said much more, had the fumes clearly bothered others as they came parading through the treetops. Outcries of Meat! and Eyes! came unchecked from the scenery, floating in on the illustrious gore crows and all their finery. Rolling her own gaze, she snorted – one would think while evading impending doom, they’d be thinking more about their own survival, rather than hunting down someone far stronger than themselves. As some prepared to dive bomb her, her dragon unfurled a deadly dose of fire, and Melita opted to unleash her wild magic, in hopes it’d be something worthwhile.

It wasn’t, because then she turned to a frog, but whatever.

I am the ocean and the battered shore
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury

Liam

Are you the cure or disease?

In retrospect, Liam's commentary was rather unnecessary, but he wasn't exactly in his right mind at the moment, so we'll all have to give him a pass.

He might have been content to allow the redhead to go on her merry way (and he on his) - this despite the fact that she could apparently walk on water, which, under normal circumstances, might have earned a smidgen of curiosity - but then a cacophony of calls erupted from the nearby trees. Liam looked up to find a murder of gore crows approaching, seemingly in an effort to flee from the impending flames. On his shoulder, Prim hissed and arched her back, not unlike a cat in her sudden protective antics; her brother rumbled a warning, shifting uneasily upon Liam's other shoulder. He silenced them with no more than a thought, and then they were sent unceremoniously into the nearby brush, where they could hide until the gore crows had moved on or perished.

Liam drew his sword in one smooth motion, glancing around just long enough to see the woman turn into a frog. Which, interesting strategy, but okay - maybe she was trying evasive maneuvers, which he could at least attempt to appreciate. Still, as a frog, she was probably more likely to be eaten, at least in his estimation. But then a crow was diving at his head, and he was fending it off as best he could with his blade, unable to spare the stranger another glance until the danger had passed.

Do you still take as you please?

Melita

yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard

Before she had more than a few moments to grumble a distinct croak in all her irritation, building underneath her amphibian skin by the second, she returned, coasting on the water and snarling. Luckily, for either herself or the stranger, he’d made no comment about her dominion and seemed to be fending off the birds coming his way.

Painstakingly determined to accomplish bedlam, the demigod reached into her incantations again. While Sila soared and struck down one of the birds heading their way, she breathed, notched, unfurled –

Hardly expecting the caustic shock of the lightning striking one creature; ignoring the sudden bout of panic rushing into her heart, searing along her chest over old scars and fatal tournament battles. In hindsight, she should’ve taken up Iskra’s mention of practice, of being safe in the confines of striving and trying without the notion of death crawling up her throat.

Instead, she clenched her jaw, pretended her hands weren’t shaking. “You good over there?” she called, preparing for another onslaught and hoping for a lack of reminders.

I am the ocean and the battered shore
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury

Liam

Are you the cure or disease?

The bird diving at Liam's head fell, one wing severed from its body, to crash at his feet, shrieking incessantly until he struck a killing stroke. But for each bird he cut down, another took its place, and he hardly had a chance to check on the woman aside from a quick glance that showed him that she was once again human. A strange tactic if ever he'd seen one, but to each their own, he supposed -

A crack of thunder followed the strike of lightning, jarring Liam and drawing both his and the crows' attention. In the momentary pause in the fighting, he managed to call back, "I'm fine. You?" And then he was back to fighting, fending off a particularly mean-looking bird with a parry, gritting his teeth at the scrape of metal on beak.

Do you still take as you please?

Melita

yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard

“I’m all right,” she saluted, marking this down as another chaotic opportunity to either cause more bedlam, or concoct some serious damage. As it was, the birds seemed to be thinning out; much less Meat! and Eyes! strewn about and cackled upon. Sila fanned more of her flames, though remained cautious of the smoke still growing nearby, and while Fangorn clutched to the top of the Honeybee’s shoulders, she plucked at another notion of wild magic. If it was lightning again, perhaps she’d be ready this time.

Except, instead, it was a burst of mending and healing, heading straight for Liam – contorting and curling over any newfound wounds, or old, that needed assuaging. Not the type to ever be a soothing entity, she wrinkled her nose and sighed, already intending to employ another round.

I am the ocean and the battered shore
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury

Liam

Are you the cure or disease?

The woman, it seemed, was capable of defending herself, all frog incidents aside. The bolt of lightning that had been concocted from thin air was proof enough for Liam, whose ears still rang from the clap of thunder that had accompanied the electricity. Still, he wished she would summon more of that and less random shifting - even if she was holding her own well enough.

For his part, the ex-soldier was doing well enough, fending off bird after bird until the flock had thinned considerably. There were only a few birds left when a rush of something came over Liam, something that had any aches and pains he carried washing away as though a tide of healing had come over him. Seeing as he had been relatively uninjured save for a few cuts and scrapes, and that he had no healing magic of his own, he had to assume that it came from the woman, and he spared her a confused glance before slicing into one more crow.

Do you still take as you please?

Melita

yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard

The smoke billowing through was another warning, and Melita clenched her jaw, narrowing her eyes as the crows were thinning out, and the fire was spreading. Unlike her uncle, she had no means to cease its impending strikes; and she, and likely the stranger, had best be off before more calamity struck.

Granting one last plunge of her magic into the lingering beasts, she was once more shocked (and the little monsters too) as her lightning struck again. She could feel the surge of her pulse racing as it fired off another round of cantankerous edges, sizzling and condemning the remaining birds into a drifting, spiraling flock amidst the water’s edge, or finally drifting off to where they should’ve been evading. Taking another breath, steeling and forging herself once more, she whistled to Sila and gathered up Fangorn. “I’m out of here! Thanks for the help!” she hollered to the sword-wielder, before doing exactly that – rampaging along the surface of the lake to better grounds.

[FIN]

I am the ocean and the battered shore
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury