ORIGIN - Can't Take the Heat

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Many times he'd passed through this tunnel on his way to other worlds outside of Pisces; now was the only time he'd bothered to pause and let the chill sink into his bones. It reminded him of the lagoon. Fahl had wavered in the sight of the unforeseen and froze to the spot, his fiery nature too weak and flickering to put up any resistance. Busy with relieving his boredom in the tiniest of ways, his progression as a master had stagnated. That wouldn't do, would never do.

And that was why he scanned the passageway for where the walls glistened with the thickest coating of ice. No need to start small—a challenge was required. He approached what he determined as the best possible area and prodded around. Claws slid over a section solid and thick as his arm. It was perfect.

Jaw clenched and back feet braced against slick but still unfrozen ground, Fahl slammed down. Not one used to results from politeness, he coerced his magic through mental screams to obey a single command: burn.

There was no give to what lay beneath. Neither familiar heat nor water pooled around him. He shoved harder against the ice sheet, those screams in his head ringing shriller as the seconds dragged on into a minute. Strength channeled into his limbs eventually dissipated, and he eventually slipped and fell with a thud. His breath huffed out in cold puffs of air.

An uncooperative tongue partner to uncooperative magic. Not good enough. Why couldn't he be better?

Marrow
flowers growing in my lungs

The lone silhouette of a skull-faced deer, fur dark against the bright ice of the tunnel, makes her way down from the Eridanus entrance of Tunnel H, towards the crossroads. Marrow had found herself returning to Eridanus more than once, lately; although her loyalty and her heart belonged to the cave of bones, her hatch-place and the place she loved, she liked the abundance of plants that presented themselves in the forest. Her hooves click lightly on the icy stone, and she walks with an uncharacteristically slow gait, attempting not to slip on the wet floor.

She's used to Canis' chill, but this is something else. Something new—although that's not saying much, considering how little she's explored in her life over the cycles.

Marrow finds she's not the only one in this tunnel as she approaches the crossroads, head tilting in curiosity as she approaches the lizard slumped against the ice.

"Hello," she greets, voice calm and distant as ever. "Are you alright?"

He's laid out over the floor, breath coming out in heaving puffs of white air, much faster than her own slow, shallow breaths, and she can't help but wonder what he's attempting to do all the way out here. Surely there would be more to find in one of the other entrances?

@Fahl

A stranger's voice swept over him but a response was not immediate. The iguana lay there, low temperature and inactivity combined stiffening his joints. Contrary to his physical state, his thoughts darted around in a whirlwind of their own discontent. It was this that caused breathing to become more labored before slowing due to an agonizing exertion of willpower.

He couldn't stop after a single pathetic attempt. Not when it was so cold. And certainly not with someone's eyes at his back.

Fahl strained to lift himself. As he staggered to his feet, hooked claws scrabbled to find purchase upon the ice. Body swaying, his whiplike tail lashed behind in the struggle to achieve balance. A few words could still be spared for the one he had not yet bothered to look at though.

"I'm fine." Concern for falling overpowered any desire for intelligibility, reducing the short statement to a close-mouthed mumble. "Just wanted to... Damned ice." From here, all speech descended into a furiously muttered repertoire of swears he'd collected and developed over the cycles. If things had gone according to plan originally, at least part of the sheet would have softened enough for him to grip. Since this wasn't the case, he leaped at the most immediate solution to his problem: try again and pray he didn't make a bigger buffoon of himself.

No luck. Legs gave way once again and he slid backwards. Maybe, just maybe, this endeavor should have been started smaller.

@Marrow

Marrow
flowers growing in my lungs

For a few moments, she thinks the lizard may have passed out. Certainly not dead, with the way his chest is heaving—she can still see his breath in the air—but the amount of time he takes before speaking once again is… slightly concerning.

But then he strains against the ice, tail lashing behind himself, clawing against the ice with a kind of fierce determination, and Marrow thinks—ah, he's definitely not asleep yet. Not with the determination in his eyes.

Privately, she thinks she'll carry him somewhere else if he does end up fainting. He certainly doesn't seem to be taking the cold all that well. She's unsure of what she could do to help in this situation—her magic is not related to ice nor heat, not at all—but she can at least look after the other gembound lest he hurt himself.

With gentle movements, she lowers herself to a sitting position among the ice, head tilted as she looks over the way he claws at the thick ice with watchful eyes. "Why are you trying to break this ice?" she asks, curious.

And then a shiver runs through her body at the sensation of the chill she's laid herself upon. Hm. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to sit down, after all; now her fur is pressed directly against the cold ground. But at the same time, she would prefer to rest her legs.

She looks down between her front hooves and tugs gently on her magic, reaching it into the ground and wondering if there are any plants for her to awaken beneath her legs. Having a bed of sprouts to cushion her would help the chill, she thinks…

Marrow feels her magic almost spark against hidden seeds, and hums beneath her breath in brief appreciation, feeling the familiar softness of new growth as new buds curl around her, vibrant green outlining her sitting form.

Ah, that's a little better.

@Fahl

Unlike the last time, an answer was more forthcoming, interspersed with soft groans at the sting of the cold scraping against his scales. "Testing. Fire opposes ice. Wanted to see how much could be melted." Specifically, how much he in particular could melt. So far, it seemed nothing at all, a testament to his failure to excel. But no one else needed to know that; masters, even future ones, shouldn't admit to defeat by their own magic.

So what was the way to approach his humiliation? A cheerful disposition, he supposed. It worked well enough for his teacher, so it should for him despite being false. Taking this to heart, Fahl plastered on his best reptilian attempt at a smile. A frozen awkwardness clung to it, worsening once he processed the dead eyes that observed him from a skull-clad face.

"The ice here's tough. But I'll get it cleared up. It'll be a good work out for me." His voice did not elevate the performance either, the words dull and heavy as they fell from the tongue. Following the urge to convey a good impression, the air surrounding him subtly warmed. Not directed beneath him, the heat was too weak to do any damage to the ice. Fahl did not acknowledge this, used to this instinctive display by his magic.

As he continued to lay there, attention drifted to the sprouts that had emerged to gather around the hoofed Gembound. They were an impressive sight amongst the chill that blanketed the tunnel. "Did you... Make these?"

Although bound to fire, a faint touch of envy crossed his heart. Now, why couldn't he do something as visible as that.

@Marrow

Marrow
flowers growing in my lungs

She tilts her head in curiosity, cloudy eyes shining with interest beneath her gemstone. Oh? Fire magic? She doesn't think she's encountered a Gembound with fire before—there was Comet, with water, and Tema, the Bark-Climber, a fellow plant user like her… but the thought of a Gembound having control over heat is intriguing to her.

She can sense the heat emanating from the lizard, too—a subtle warmth in the air that she welcomes in the face of this tunnel's chill. How curious!

And it seems he's curious about her own magic, too. She answers his question with a small incline of her head, a subtle nod as she glances down to the new shoots surrounding her. "My magic is over plants," she says, the briefest of smiles crossing her face. "It's.. finicky, at times—" An understatement, really, considering the mishaps she's had with her magic before, especially the magic of moving plants rather than simply growing them, "—but I do try to practice."

Much like the lizard before her is doing, she assumes. Levelling his magic against the icy cold of the tunnel—she wonders if there's anywhere else in the caves where she could do that? Canis is barren enough that it makes fine practice for sparking new life from beneath the rock, and Eridanus is wonderful for the purposes of practicing fine control, but… hm.

She should explore more often, Marrow concludes. She's been wandering Canis and Canis alone for far too long—and as much as she adores the cave, she should probably get out more.

"What, specifically, can your magic do?" Marrow asks the lizard with a tilt of her head, curiosity refusing to be sated.

@Fahl

He hummed appreciatively despite the bitter taste that rose in his throat. A grunt preceded the thrust of forearms against the ice as he hauled himself into a halfway upright position, back legs remaining prone. Another noise of effort accompanied a shove closer to the hoofed creature. Then he reached out and gently pressed down upon the nearest example of plant growth in the tunnel. When the single claw bending the delicate stem withdrew, it sprang back with all the elasticity of youth behind it.

"Plants," Fahl echoed. A hint of laughter crept into his monotone. "Never heard of plant magic before. Figures."

While he'd accomplished little in his own element, all of which were variations on the same conjured cushion of heat, the iguana could not deny inquiring curiosity. The answers would simply have to be taken from memories of others. A bit of speculation on his part wouldn't hurt either.

"Fire... Is hot." No kidding. "It can be warm or it can burn. When just warming, it's useful, like when you need a cooked fish or to dry off. When burning, it's strong but also"—his tongue struggled to wrap around the next word—"harmful."

A mouthful of air was sucked in, even the smallest of lectures a tiring exercise in jaw movement. He continued.

"Needs control to have good effect. If have that, you could..." Mind cast about for an impressive but possibly unrealistic scenario. "Clear this entire tunnel of ice. Yeah."

"And you need to be tough. Because fire can burn you too." Fahl stomped a foot. A flicker of warmth spurted in its wake, a weak emphasis to his point.

@Marrow

Marrow
decay is an extant form of life

Marrow can't help but feel… flattered, at the show of appreciation and fascination that the lizard gives towards one of her plants. It's a strange, foreign feeling; she doesn't usually interact with fellow gembound (although she's found that changing, recently), and the thought of the lizard being just as fascinated with her magic as she is with his is… nice.

It's a nice feeling, this, sharing interest. She enjoys it.

She listens to his talk about heat, about fire with interest shining in her eyes, noting the passion in his tone despite the slowness in his voice. There's zeal in his voice, there, outshining the monotone he had greeted her with—she finds a half-smile curling on her face as she lectures.

Fire, she thinks, taking in his words, sounds… powerful. But dangerous. Volatile—the same type of wildness she's seen in her own magic, when it slips beyond her control, but… in a different way, she imagines. Plants pry and tear and use piercing, brutal force; fire simply burns. It's dangerous simply by way of existing.

And although she's had her magic backfire on her before, she can imagine that a fire-user's magic backfiring would be much more… scarring. Literally.

She wonders if the lizard has burn scars somewhere along his body.

"You must be quite iron-willed indeed, to control such a magic," Marrow comments. She's certainly seen his own determination in the way the lizard claws at the ice without letting down, working himself to the point of collapse and then getting up to try again; she admires that in him.

Having a strong will is certainly not a bad thing.
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@Fahl

In the space between his presentation and the other Gembound's reaction, Fahl fell to the typical gnawing in his gut that followed any lengthy performance. The warm air enveloping his foot at the conclusion had been barely there, possessing all the power of a whisper. It clearly broadcasted the weakness that stunted him so. Had it tarnished what halting speech he'd constructed from scraps of thought? He suspected as much. Why wouldn't it have?

That pit of doubt opened within, ready to consume what self-esteem lingered in the midst of his downfall. This was exactly why he needed the practice. How could anyone take him seriously if he couldn't do a task simple as—

Spoken words crashed headlong into the train of criticism surging through his brain. Momentary surprise appeared at what was less than a condemnation before disappearing behind a mildly smug expression. Even though his position was not the most dignified at the moment, head tossed back in a prideful manner. Upon lowering it, vigorous nodding ensued.

"Yes. Very. The most iron of wills," he said before adding, "I learned from the best." Even in the throes of conceit, credit still had to be given to his teacher. Imp had discovered his magical affinity among other lessons of importance, so he owed him.

"Do plants need a different will?" It seemed tamer in comparison to fire, flourishing but not destroying.

@Marrow

Marrow
decay is an extant form of life

At the lizard's question, Marrow tilts her head, thinking. "Hm..." Considering what her magic feels like to use; the way it feels to reach out and pull. It doesn't feel like an effort of will, really; more like an effort of... convincing.

Yes, convincing. She thinks that's the right description of it.

"The plants... they have a will of their own, I've found," Marrow begins; looking down at the little shoots surrounding her and swaying her head a little, calling out with her magic for them to dance as well. To sway with her.

Would they listen? That was always the question, when she cast out her magic.

They do—but not in the way she'd like. Instead of a swaying dance, they instead curl inwards; grasping with force at leg and hoof, harshly enough that it's near-painful. Marrow winces, somewhat, but does not move, instead giving a chuckle and looking back up at the lizard at her failed demonstration.

"I merely give intent—the plants... interpret it however they'd want. Or disregard it, in this case."
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@Fahl

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