In-Thread Roleplay
Pyrrhus cringed as the flakes of snow steamed up at the touch of his hooves. Had he spent more time outside during his stint in the mountains he might have been used to it, but he had always prefered the solitude of the caves. As it was just the few that remained on the grass sent strange sensations up his legs as they melted and steamed, making him feel as if he wasn't wanted even on the land fed from the warmth he commanded. Tired from his journey he climbed atop a rock, wide enough to accomodate his unsually large stature, and curled his legs underneath his body. He could not fall asleep, not somewhere as damp as this, or he would have to spend hours attempting to chip his shell and regain movement.
The elemental adjusted himself on the rock, feeling a fire creeping up from the pit of his stomach. It was strange, the way his powers worked. Sometimes they were entirely under his control, and others they seemed to have a mind of their own. Wanting the energy to calm for a short time he drew in a long breath, waiting to feel the heat in his lungs before he released it. When he did a jet of flame flew forth from his mouth, leaving a bare streak across the ground. A few blades of grass, dried by the heat that emanated off of him, caught the spark and stood withering as they smoked and burned. He gave them only the faintest interest, knowing that he could contain it should it decide to move any further.
Pyrrhus raised his head from the rock curiously, noting a childish tone in the voice. "Who's there?" he demanded, rising to his full height. Adding to his already intimidating appearance he was nearly twice the size of a normal nikku, and a good head taller than the average mountain breed. His horns lit at the tips, smoldering when they found no tinder, and the hardened shell at his joints crumbled to reveal patches of his flaming exterior. He meant no harm, unless the intruder intend it for him.
His eyes darted across the forest line until he found the source of the voice, and when he did his scowl softened almost to a smile. He stepped down from the rock, grumbling a bit as the ground sizzled. "Hello there young one," he said solemnly, kneeling his front legs to get closer, "I mean you no harm. You simply startled an old hermit."
Pyrrhus nodded, sensing the child was much like himself. "Where is your mother? Your father?" he asked cautiously, resting his head on his front hooves, "Or do you live on your own?" He was confused as to the creature's situation, having not had any experience with babies in the past. It was frustrating that it would not speak, but something in the back of his mind told him it was to be expected.
The flame elemental frowned, cracking the shell about his eyes. He scooted back from the babe carefully, revealing a patch of grass that had been buried by the snow. He blew a gust of hot air onto it and watched as it curled and turned brown. It must be cold for this little one, with no nikku to warm its side. "Careful," he warned, leaning his face close to the patch. It lit up quickly, sending a wave of heat from its center. "It must be hard to be all on your own when the weather can touch you," he mused, feeling the wind press against his shell in vain.
Pyrrhus cocked his head to the side, trying to discern what the little one wanted. Perhaps he should continue talking until something caught its interest. "I have no nerves in my... Skin," he explained, "And I cannot feel temperature nor pain." Of course, he couldn't feel the soft grass on his legs either, but that might upset him. "I am coated in a layer of ever hardening rock," he told him, "From the lava my body produces."
"It is the way," he offered in justification for the abomination, "I remain thus that I may control the fires of the earth beneath this island." He showed a smile, faintly lit in his throat, "Else they may revolt and shoot up from the ground. It is better that one be deprived of something he never once knew than a whole race be consumed in rebel flame." He had heard that once a long time ago, but from who he couldn't remember.
"Perhaps I remain alone for fear that I will find something to give me reason to abandon my station," he said with a sigh, "A family, a home, stable as rock." Rock was unyielding even to the destructive force of flame. It could be barraged and torn down but never reduced, always there remained the same amount, simply changed in form. "But it was not made to be so," he added decidedly, "I must never let the flames have an advantage over me." And what nikku would want a mate that she could not so much as touch without fear of burning?
He nodded slowly, laying his head on the ground so that his eyes were level with the withered tinder. "What sort of guardian would I be if I put others in danger by keeping them close?" he asked, though the question was more to himself, "My duty it to protect, and to do that I keep away. It is the simplest method."
"Sometimes," Pyrrhus admitted, "Though I've grown to find friends in the other elements. The wind, the earth, they're always nearby." By that he meant the elements themselves, having ever met their guardians. He had suspected there were others like himself, but in his years he had never laid eyes on them. Perhaps they were hiding as he had.
"Don't worry yourself young one," he told him, pulling himself to a seat on his haunches, "You've got a long time ahead of you to learn and make friends. I've got only ages of the same, it is the way." He closed his eyes, his shell turning a bright orange before pieces of it shattered and fell to the ground. The lava that now showed through was fresh and bright, fluctuating as the wind hit various points.
Pyrrhus frowned as the bits of shell began to harden back over his face. "You're wise for your time," he told the baby, "Perhaps they need you where the nikku gather." He had often watched from his caves, all the races alike. They lived from each other, a balance nearly as delicate as the balance he alone kept. "There are many there that long to care for a kit."
The elemental paused seeing the strange reaction his suggestion bore the babe. Instinctively he looked toward the ground, scraping the dirt with a hoof. "Or perhaps not," he added, blowing a bit of flame to keep the dying embers between them going, "Perhaps you are fine on your own. At the very least you have my word that you will never freeze." He stomped a hoof pointedly, showing a faint smile as the ground beneath them warmed to the touch.
"Nathaniel then," he said, committing the name to memory, "I am Pyrrhus, guardian of the earthen flame." Everything originated from the center, the heart of the island. And with a bit of thought it could be pulled forth, by any Nikku he imagined, perhaps he could teach them. It would take a long time, but even the basics of keeping thier own campfires alive would be useful this time of year. "I have a theory little Nathaniel, would you care to help me test it?" he asked.
"I want you to find the heart of this little fire," he explained, "but do not touch it. I will let it go and I was you to try to sustain it, pull the energy from within yourself. I can feel the fire there, perhaps you can if you focus." It was a long shot but it would certainly be interesting.
Like a typical spirit, Nathaniel held no ties to any particular place. A certain tree would become his haunt one day, then maybe that very same night he would just up and leave suddenly for a new abode for no particular reason. It was the same for his social life, or a lack of: a tiny bit closer, then a whisk away with an out of the blue squeal. An oddity the permababy was, at odds with his own self's interests at any given moment. He hoped to gain at least a piece of solitude this time.
The mountains. He gazed up at them with wide pale blue eyes in awe of their majesty, crested with snow and smooth rock. The abode of the mountain Nikkus. Shuddering, the tiny babe began his journey up the smallest hill he could find, unaware of the close presence of other Nikkus; he figured they would be far high up the mountain, right? But smoke rose not to far ahead . . . Should he look or flee? Ah, decisions decisions, he could never make up his mind! No matter what choice he picked it always ended up badly. Gulping, Nat crept closer to the mysterious mist.
The mountains. He gazed up at them with wide pale blue eyes in awe of their majesty, crested with snow and smooth rock. The abode of the mountain Nikkus. Shuddering, the tiny babe began his journey up the smallest hill he could find, unaware of the close presence of other Nikkus; he figured they would be far high up the mountain, right? But smoke rose not to far ahead . . . Should he look or flee? Ah, decisions decisions, he could never make up his mind! No matter what choice he picked it always ended up badly. Gulping, Nat crept closer to the mysterious mist.
The elemental adjusted himself on the rock, feeling a fire creeping up from the pit of his stomach. It was strange, the way his powers worked. Sometimes they were entirely under his control, and others they seemed to have a mind of their own. Wanting the energy to calm for a short time he drew in a long breath, waiting to feel the heat in his lungs before he released it. When he did a jet of flame flew forth from his mouth, leaving a bare streak across the ground. A few blades of grass, dried by the heat that emanated off of him, caught the spark and stood withering as they smoked and burned. He gave them only the faintest interest, knowing that he could contain it should it decide to move any further.
And poor Nat, when the jet of flame bursted out suddenly his heart pumped so rapidly from fear his head was light and he might have collapsed had he not have been so keenly aware of his surroundings at that very moment. Though the fire was not aimed at him, the baby rolled away with a frightened squeal of terror, his body trembling violently. Oh, but what if it had caught on his sheets? He couldn't dare think of the consequences. But what had he done to upset whatever it was that launched the flames? Without a process of thought Nat yelped, "I'M SORRY!" at the top of his tiny lungs, hoping that would be enough to placate the beast. He did not get a good look when he had dived out of the way, but one glance at those nasty looking horns was all he needed to spaz.
Pyrrhus raised his head from the rock curiously, noting a childish tone in the voice. "Who's there?" he demanded, rising to his full height. Adding to his already intimidating appearance he was nearly twice the size of a normal nikku, and a good head taller than the average mountain breed. His horns lit at the tips, smoldering when they found no tinder, and the hardened shell at his joints crumbled to reveal patches of his flaming exterior. He meant no harm, unless the intruder intend it for him.
"N-n-n-n . . ." he attempted, but his tongue failed him once the beast rose to its full height. The mounatinas had been majestic, but this Nikku was almost making them pale in comparison. So bright his hide glowed, like an internal sun laid hidden beneath a crusty exterior, its only vents in the form of two brightly colored horns. The poor kid, his body had given up shuddering now and was just stone still in the stranger's presence, subject to his whim. Oh, he wished he could answer, but his body betrayed him so! "N-n-n-n-n!" Nathaniel tried again, but to no avail. By now his eyes were so wide it might have been almost comical to a passerby.
His eyes darted across the forest line until he found the source of the voice, and when he did his scowl softened almost to a smile. He stepped down from the rock, grumbling a bit as the ground sizzled. "Hello there young one," he said solemnly, kneeling his front legs to get closer, "I mean you no harm. You simply startled an old hermit."
Ah, but if it were so easy to gain his trust with a smile and apology, things would be far different for the little sheet ghost. He stared up at the elemental Nikku with those saucer-sized eyes, a mixture of fear, awe, and anxiety wrestling in them. "Nn?" he mewed meekly, a full question phrased in just one syllable. A lone hermit? It wasn't a new concept, but he had never met one before up until now.
Pyrrhus nodded, sensing the child was much like himself. "Where is your mother? Your father?" he asked cautiously, resting his head on his front hooves, "Or do you live on your own?" He was confused as to the creature's situation, having not had any experience with babies in the past. It was frustrating that it would not speak, but something in the back of his mind told him it was to be expected.
Nathaniel paused and finally blinked, his tiny tail twitching at the sudden questions. Well, they weren't supposed to be sudden, but his mind had gone into lockdown: asking him what daisies were would be considered sudden at this point. Slowly he began to internally relax, though his outward appearance was still guarded, wary. Where his tongue failed him, he could attempt to communicate with gestures. So the little sheet ghost shook his head twice in reply. Mother? Father? He never really thought about it.
The flame elemental frowned, cracking the shell about his eyes. He scooted back from the babe carefully, revealing a patch of grass that had been buried by the snow. He blew a gust of hot air onto it and watched as it curled and turned brown. It must be cold for this little one, with no nikku to warm its side. "Careful," he warned, leaning his face close to the patch. It lit up quickly, sending a wave of heat from its center. "It must be hard to be all on your own when the weather can touch you," he mused, feeling the wind press against his shell in vain.
The babe nodded its head tentatively once, eyeing the patch of grass apprehensively. And yet longingly. Could he trust the elemental enough? One final shudder through his body made the decision for him, and Nathaniel waddled just a bit closer to the makeshift fire, making sure not too get so close as to endager catching himself on fire. He glanced up at the elemental, eyes shining with the glow of the flames, and he nodded once more with silent thanks. Nathaniel couldn't imagine the Nikku being troubled on his own, but he said something about the weather not bothering him. Weird? He cocked his head at Pyrrhus and blinked. "Nn?" the baby asked.
Pyrrhus cocked his head to the side, trying to discern what the little one wanted. Perhaps he should continue talking until something caught its interest. "I have no nerves in my... Skin," he explained, "And I cannot feel temperature nor pain." Of course, he couldn't feel the soft grass on his legs either, but that might upset him. "I am coated in a layer of ever hardening rock," he told him, "From the lava my body produces."
Living . . . rock? He was talking to a lump of stone? That had glowing fire and huge horns? Nat couldn't help but gulp, though he nodded a few more times to convey to the elder Nikku that he understood. "N-n-n . . ." - a sigh; work, tongue, work! - ". . . W-wow." After agonizing minutes of making it loosen, that was all he could say? The baby lowered his gaze, flushing beneath his sheet.
"It is the way," he offered in justification for the abomination, "I remain thus that I may control the fires of the earth beneath this island." He showed a smile, faintly lit in his throat, "Else they may revolt and shoot up from the ground. It is better that one be deprived of something he never once knew than a whole race be consumed in rebel flame." He had heard that once a long time ago, but from who he couldn't remember.
What words! His eloquence astounded little Nathaniel, and his attention was now fully held not exactly in fear anymore, but with the same awe he had regarded the mountains with earlier. Here he was, meeting with the spirit of fire itself! Remarkable! Blinking twice, the baby settled himself down into a more comfortable position and nodded his head furiously a few more times. Keep talking, big guy, keep talking!
"Perhaps I remain alone for fear that I will find something to give me reason to abandon my station," he said with a sigh, "A family, a home, stable as rock." Rock was unyielding even to the destructive force of flame. It could be barraged and torn down but never reduced, always there remained the same amount, simply changed in form. "But it was not made to be so," he added decidedly, "I must never let the flames have an advantage over me." And what nikku would want a mate that she could not so much as touch without fear of burning?
Oh, but the flames couldn't ever possibly take over this guy! He looked too strong for that, and no one who spoke with such fomality could be beaten by something he held the very power of. It was just something the young Nikku could not comprehend. Swallowing, Nathaniel spoke slowly and deliberately. ". . . Alone . . . b-b-but only be . . . because it's s-s-s-s-s . . . safer?" he asked, wincing with every stutter.
He nodded slowly, laying his head on the ground so that his eyes were level with the withered tinder. "What sort of guardian would I be if I put others in danger by keeping them close?" he asked, though the question was more to himself, "My duty it to protect, and to do that I keep away. It is the simplest method."
“B-but . . . d-d-d-don’tcha e-ever g-g-get . . . l-lonely?” Nathaniel asked, a worried look on his face. He did himself every once in a while, but the little baby thought that it was something that he should have gotten used to by now. Maybe it was because he secretly longed for company, and then muffled the thought, that it hurt all the more when he ran away from company. It was amazing he had not scampered off yet, actually; the elemental’s presence was soothing, though.
"Sometimes," Pyrrhus admitted, "Though I've grown to find friends in the other elements. The wind, the earth, they're always nearby." By that he meant the elements themselves, having ever met their guardians. He had suspected there were others like himself, but in his years he had never laid eyes on them. Perhaps they were hiding as he had.
Nathaniel processed his words with a slight frown, then nodded once more as he understood. He never thought of the land as a friend before; in fact, he didn't really think anything inanimate could be considered a friend. This was a new concept. "S-s-till . . ." The young Nikku turned his gace to the crackling flames, watching as the shadows danced across the burnt grass. Incapable of feeling, unable to keep close company, and living alone? "Sor-r-rry . . ."
"Don't worry yourself young one," he told him, pulling himself to a seat on his haunches, "You've got a long time ahead of you to learn and make friends. I've got only ages of the same, it is the way." He closed his eyes, his shell turning a bright orange before pieces of it shattered and fell to the ground. The lava that now showed through was fresh and bright, fluctuating as the wind hit various points.
"H-hard not t-t-too . . ." The babe looked morosely at the fire after a darting glance at Prryhus when the sound of his shell cracking was heard. Slowly Nat shook his head in response to his words. Friends? A long time indeed, but all for nothing so far . . . But this one wasn't so bad. In a way they were like kindred spirits, and it was a nice feeling to know that it wasn't bad to reach out to them.
Pyrrhus frowned as the bits of shell began to harden back over his face. "You're wise for your time," he told the baby, "Perhaps they need you where the nikku gather." He had often watched from his caves, all the races alike. They lived from each other, a balance nearly as delicate as the balance he alone kept. "There are many there that long to care for a kit."
At the mere mention of caring for a youngling he froze. A few memories surfaced: one included a couple that had indeed tried to welcome them into their company. The angel of death and her bloody horned cohort had offered him food, the she-Nikku so soft spoken it was like a siren's lure, the mountain Nikku following her example like any loyal minion. Nathaniel shuddered violently and curled into himself just a little more; lies, lies, lies, lies . . . His mind shut down for a moment as something else tried to be recognized within his mind, before the distant past could claw its way to the surface.
The elemental paused seeing the strange reaction his suggestion bore the babe. Instinctively he looked toward the ground, scraping the dirt with a hoof. "Or perhaps not," he added, blowing a bit of flame to keep the dying embers between them going, "Perhaps you are fine on your own. At the very least you have my word that you will never freeze." He stomped a hoof pointedly, showing a faint smile as the ground beneath them warmed to the touch.
Curled up as he was, Nathaniel could still manage to see the shadow of a smile on the Nikku's face. His pained expression eased though it did not completely disappear. A weak mewl was all he could respond with to show his gratitude; after all, he supposed this Nikku was trustworthy. But he forgot something . . . Wetting his tongue, Nat attempted to speak and found his voice gone. Sighing quietly, he released his grip upon himself and forced himself to relax. Then he took a deep breath and tried again: "N-N-Nath-thaniel. I'm-m N-Nathaniel, s-s-sir." It was probably more respectful to give his own name first than to ask the elemental his.
"Nathaniel then," he said, committing the name to memory, "I am Pyrrhus, guardian of the earthen flame." Everything originated from the center, the heart of the island. And with a bit of thought it could be pulled forth, by any Nikku he imagined, perhaps he could teach them. It would take a long time, but even the basics of keeping thier own campfires alive would be useful this time of year. "I have a theory little Nathaniel, would you care to help me test it?" he asked.
His ears twitched at the word 'theory', and the little sheet ghost gazed at him curiously. "Th-theory?" Nat repeated, blinking. Well, he supposed he had nothing else to do, and the elemental - Prryhus - was proving to be a comforting presence. And so he bobbed his head in a nod, wondering how he could help such a magnificent Nikku.
"I want you to find the heart of this little fire," he explained, "but do not touch it. I will let it go and I was you to try to sustain it, pull the energy from within yourself. I can feel the fire there, perhaps you can if you focus." It was a long shot but it would certainly be interesting.
For a moment, silence. Then a soft: " . . . Wh-what?" Nathaniel frowned at him slightly in surprise, tiny paws shifting beneath the cover of his sheet uneasily. Control fire? But there was no way he could do it, he was just a normal Nikku! Well, as normal as a thing stuck in baby form can get, but it was still nothing compared to Pyrrhus's caliber as an elemental. What did he mean find the "heart" of the fire, and how could he do it without touching the flames themselves?
