ORIGIN

Too long had he languished in Draco and Pegasus, trying to raise that creature that he called his spawn, that which he wrestled every day to call a good idea to have made in the first place. Its nerve and backtalk was getting him itchy to start destroying something and the Black Spire didn't help, always whispering and tickling the back of his mind, egging him forward into a rage-induced wildfire.

Well, that was enough! He'd grabbed the first Chaos Forge member he could see - that strange Vargas spawn that had only just reached adulthood - and had led them straight to the nearest infected cave. Oh how he wished to burn down Ursa, where he knew Mother was hiding, but doing so alone was a death sentence. The next best thing would just be to cut off her influence somewhere else.

As he stormed into the crystalline mirror room, he turned back to the creature he'd brought with him. "Today we DESTROY this foulness. I hope you are ready and do not get burned! Do you have magics at your disposal?" And without waiting for an answer, he turned and roared, blasting heat and fire from his jaws at the nearest patch of fungus, which very swiftly was lit up and turned to ash.

He watched the fire burn for a moment, satisfaction thrumming through his veins. Good. It was all as flammable as he remembered. Looking out over what was once a crystalline room of mirrored images had been tainted, infected, overcome by the foul white that would soon be a roaring inferno.

He glanced to the corundum. "NO. I HATE Order. There is no waiting" He paused and grunted, a small grin curling the corner of his mouth. "And I do like fire, yes." He raised a lower paw and it was like the flame curled around it like a lash. Burning, yes, but only for a moment as he pulled away. Yes, he liked fire very much.

He looked around to glare at what the other one had done and frowned. "That is IT? I supposed our kind of Chaos is unpredictable, but still." And in the meanwhile, he turned to another section and burned that down too, the flames spewing from his mouth catching more and more fungus on fire.

"If it burns TOO much, I will open the ground between us and the fire. We will not burn. But your...plant may burn." He glanced down, almost self-conscious for a moment, as if mildly ashamed that he would burn down something that belonged or was loved by somebody else. HE didn't know if this one was the plant type or anything, but he found himself thinking of Forgraves for a brief moment, remembering his love for all that was green.

He wasn't sure if the corundum was laughing at him - if she was then she was a FOOL. But he was not an idiot and could pick out a good natured tease. He glanced at the now very on fire plans and snorted.

Azrael himself laughed at her comment as he watched his fire blaze a little hotter. "Perhaps. But effort against Order is effort regardless. I will make up for what weaknesses in mass destruction you display!" It was meant as more of a pick-me-up then how it came out - if she desired Order burned then he would burn extra, just for her! But from his serious, fairly stoic demeanor, it certainly didn't quite come out that way.

He paused for a moment to see what chaos would conjure for her this time, but her own disappointment was mirrored in him. "Hm. It is finicky. Keep trying and it will give, maybe."

Maybe Corundum-One knew more about Azrael then she was letting on. Perhaps it was coincidence. But flattery worked wonders on the demon, who raised his head and turned to regard her, brow raised. "Do they, now? Fire and Darkness Guy, I'd hope. Although I supposed darkness would do not favors here." What advice could he give her that didn't come from simple innate power and practice?

He thought for a moment. "Advice? Be proud of your chaos. Be bold and SHOUT it until the very void rattles with your battle cries!" As if to demonstrate, he turned and ROARED, a gout of powerfule flame lit up against all the mirrors, charring and incinerating a large swath of fungus.

The laughing was confusing. He hadn't said anything particularly funny to warrant such an outburst. He frowned, turning from the corundum before he started getting properly frustrated about it, focusing on the fire, waiting for it to die a little before he started it anew.

"It helps," was his gruff answer to her question. "Effort and passion will give results. This is what I have learned. Magic responds to emotions, many times. More emotion, more magic." He breathed another gout of fire, weaker then the last and once it was through, he pointed. "See? I did not put that energy into it. It is weaker. That is how I became strong - by putting in my all. You will go nowhere if you don't put your heart into it."

He turned to watch her try and nodded proudly at her battle cry. "There! It is not so much the fury as it is the PASSION." He was observant enough to see the grin on her face, the joy and humor. She didn't need the same fury that made his flame a wildfire, but if she enjoyed each and every attack...perhaps that was her key.

The fungus she ripped out he stomped on for good measure. Obliterate it all, until it had been all crushed and burned beneath his feet. "I learned it," he responded, unhelpfully. "And I am from Canis. I hatched there, but Mother found me. She enslaved me for many cycles until I broke free and burned her accursed Hive down. Yet it keeps appearing, over and over again." He snarled. "I pledged my strength to Master Vargas's Forge so that I could see her true form utterly destroyed. I will not stop until it is ASHES."

Azrael nodded, an anger smoldering in his gaze. "Fuel to the fire," he echoed with a snarl. "She made the grave mistake of enslaving me. Now I will not stop until she is burned to ashes." It was a promise and a threat, thrown straight towards the fungus before them, to whatever ears might be listening.

Following in Corundum's wake, he roared towards the fungus, his own battle cry a deafening, "MAY THE UNFEARING FEAR ME!!" before another gout of flames roared out and immediately caught fire to another large section of the fungus and mold.

He imagined, for a moment, that it wasn't just a carpet but the hulking Mass of Mother herself. He imagined her voice and imagined her screaming in his ears, a scream of agony and terror, for his life quickly diminishing, her purpose utterly failed because he had gotten to her first.

He pulled himself out of the moment and noticed the conversation had gone dry - he enjoyed, in a way, talking to this one at least, so he reached to grasp for a new sopic. "You are one of the spawn of Master Vargas. Did he give you a purpose or job yet, within his forge?"