It Feeds On The Blood, It Feeds On The Heat

[itstillhurt]

Who: Azula and various CR
Which: Noctaere Plot Log (Closed)
Where: Various locations in Reverein, the Wastelands and Interactive Dreamscapes
What: On the night of the 21st, the heat becomes unbearable. A thunderstorm rolls over Reverein, but there's no rain- posing its own problems when lightning strikes the dry earth. The shape of a bird made of blue flame can be seen fleeing from the village, but the weather disturbances remain, as does the damage it's causing. Fires are a serious concern. The unnatural storms will last until the end of the 22nd. After that, the unnatural dry and intense thunderstorm will subside into a normal heavy rainfall.

Warnings: A lot of violence, possibly including arson and burns. Also some examination of a backstory including abuse, neglect, war crimes, and themes of genocide.

Comments

For Maedhros @holdshisown

[itstillhurt]

[The sunrise was obscured by the unnatural storm clouds, and the Noctaere is keeping its distance from potential threats. It seems to be driven as much by fear as anger, and it's staying high and far. Despite this fact, the storm it created keeps intensifying, the winds growing heavier and the lightning getting more frequent and widespread despite the continued lack of rain.

Once it sees another potential threat, however, it takes no chances. The fiery bird dives toward him as soon as it sees him, seeming to breathe a bolt of lightning at the massive warrior.]

[holdshisown]

[There's been a bad feeling niggling at the back of his mind long before the stormclouds started to gather, which is the only reason he brought his sword with him today. Somethings wrong, he can feel it in his bones, and he'd much rather face whatever was causing this head-on rather than to simply sit around hoping it would sort itself out.

It is only his keen senses and superior reflexes that keeps him from being struck when the creature dives for him. The first thought that enters his mind when he sees it's fiery form is balrog. But no, it doesn't have the same oppresive feel too it as a balrog and he's never seen one that flew or breathed lightning before. He readies his sword to strike the next time it comes for him, hoping that it will prove effective against a being that seems made of pure flame.]

[itstillhurt]

[The creature maintains its eerie silence as it suddenly pulls back, flapping its wings to send several individual bursts of flame toward the elf. It doesn't quite close into striking distance, but it's a lot closer now.

Despite having a form made of fire, it seems to have a solid enough presence. The beat of its wings disturbs the air, kicking up dust and dirt as it nears the ground.]

[holdshisown]

[He dearly wishes he had a shield at the moment, dancing around the flames thrown at him is not an ideal solution. A few of the flames manage to singe him a bit, nothing that truly register with him at the moment when he's so intent on the fight but he'll probably need someone to take a look on a couple of the injuries later.

A spear would probably serve him better than a sword in this fight, but he'll have to work with what he has at the moment. Maedhros aproaches cautiously, looking for an opportunity to strike but preparing to block an incoming attack as well.]

[itstillhurt]

[The Noctaere seems to overestimate its odds, because it rather recklessly rakes closer, claws of fire extended as it lashes hastily at Maedhros.

The reckless attack leaves its torso- and the silhouette visible within it- completely visible, exposed to counterattack.]

[holdshisown]

[An attack that was very much anticipated and as such one more easily countered, swift as only an elf can be Maedhros whirls out of the way and raises his sword deliver a blow in turn. Only... somethings wrong.

His eyes widen and the blow never lands. He can't strike at the creature, he realizes, for he recognizes the figure within it. The girl. The girl that had helped him out of the nightmare he'd arrived in and that had been so stricken by his song.

Gritting his teeth he makes a split second decision and turns his aborted strike into a clumsy retreat.]

Oh, child, what has happened to you?

[It is uncertain wether the question is directed at her or if he's simply speaking to himself.]

[itstillhurt]

[Unfortunately, the hesitation on Maedhros's part is not reflected in the Noctaere. As soon as he pauses his attack and tries to withdraw, the Noctaere immediately presses its assault, twisting around to follow his movements.

As its attack becomes more aggressive and savage, the fire that makes up its body begins to burn hotter and brighter, and more of the foliage around them erupts into flames.]

[holdshisown]

[Taken aback as he is he can't completely avoid the attacks, and now that he knows who it is he can't bring himself to do more than block. He contemplates striking out with the flat of his blade but can't quite bring himself to do so yet.

The heat is something he can ignore, he's spent enough time in his fathers forge to be used to extreme temperatures and, really, it was nothing against the fires that had taken his life in the end.]

Child! You must reign in your fire! It will end up consuming you in the end if you do not!

[itstillhurt]

[If the Noctaere hears or understands his warning, it gives no sign of it. Instead, it reacts to his sudden defensive stature by changing tactics.

It rears back only for a moment, throwing another spray of fire with its wings, before erupting into flight again, raking toward him with its claws as it flies overhead. It soon wheels back around and swoops toward him once more, breathing yet more flames toward him as it approaches for another pass.]

[holdshisown]

[Battle madness, or something so alike it as to make little difference in any case. If she were not flying around and engulfed in flames he would simply grab her and hold her until it passed. He's not sure what he can do as things stand.

Worse still, is his own mental state. For all that he's been able to hold up a good facade around here he is not well, and the fire around him is not doing him many favors. He has to press down memories of the Bragollach and the Nirnaeth so as not to lose himself in them. She is not a dragon or balrog, he can't kill her... he must remember that.

As she approaches again, breathing fire at him he makes the decision to drop his sword, it is more a liability than a help by now and he doesn't want to risk lashing out on instinct. He'll have to simply rely on his agility to keep himself from harm.]

I will not harm you! But you must calm yourself!

[There is fire in him as well, kept under the same iron clad control that kept him sane enough in Angband. But that control is slipping now and it shows in his eyes that are beginning to glow like two white-hot embers.]

[itstillhurt]

[The words seem to have no effect on the Noctaere, just as before. Him dropping his sword, however, seems to give it pause- and as the glow becomes visible in his eyes, it shifts tactics.

For a moment, it seems to stick to a holding pattern, circling patiently, trying to assess the change... but finally it decides to breathe more lightning toward him as it circles, now keeping a healthy distance.]

[holdshisown]

[This is bad. Not only the situation but the memories it brings to mind. The smell of burning wood, the taste of ash in his mouth... the fire he feels in his soul whenever he goes into battle. It is twisting and writhing inside of him like a wild animal, fighting to be free of it's restraints. There is a glow to him now, and if one looks close enough that glow almost looks like white flames flickering around him.]

[itstillhurt]

[Ordinarily, the Noctaere would regard that as a challenge and respond with aggression. But here, it feels less... empty.

Maybe it was the sense he gave of something ancient and weathered beyond Azula's imagining. Maybe it was the power in his voice, his song, the casual way in which he discussed the effect he'd had on his enemies. Maybe it was something else, something more instinctive. Whatever the reason, the Noctaere doesn't want to fight that power. It doesn't want to see that flame turned against it. And that demands a new strategy.

It stops attacking him directly. Instead, as it continues circling at a distance, it begins swiping at the trees and rocks around him with each wingbeat. Not burning blasts, but cutting and focused arcs of flame designed to sever as many trees and carve out as much rock as possible around him, trying to throw as much debris and as many obstacles at him as it can, to slow him down and distract him before it turns and retreats further into the wildlands.]

[holdshisown]

[The part of him that is not busy loosing itself in the past is very glad she is not taking him lightly and is keeping her distance. He doesn't want to hurt her but he doesn't completely trust himself when he gets like this.

When he turns his eyes towards the retreating Noctaere they more resemble a pair of dancing white flames than anything else, and though he thinks it was probably for the best that their encounter did not drag on any further he can't help but feel like he failed.]