[PRP] Elective Affinities (Vulcan + Rue)

[Lady_Ourania]

Night snuffed out the sun without much ceremony, the brief play of colors on the horizon succumbing quickly to a familiar dark. Rue kept its memory alive in the lantern-light of her eyes, held it trapped in the flames that pushed cinders through the spaces between her teeth. She let her tongue smear the finish on heat-blackened enamel as she glanced skyward, burning gaze picking out the stars' positions with care. The mare had no real destination in mind, but neither had she any desire to wander in circles, not when so much of the mountainous region remained to be seen. And an inopportune sidestep might send her tumbling back down the peak's side and into the jaws of the quarry below.

Her paws had turned out to be something of a necessity here, claws extended to better bite into sheer rock and carry her ever-higher. The scarf that had been a token from the Ember Speakers had not fared quite so well; it had grown tattered at the edges, its twinkles obscured by flecks of dirt. Now it sat wound in heavy coils around her neck, lessening the chances of its drape catching on an unsuspecting corner and strangling her. Sentimental, to carry it all this way. But she had been accused of worse before.

The air was thin here, though the difference was negligible, barely dampening the conflagration that roiled inside her. Had it fed on oxygen, Rue might have been more concerned. But it was enlivened by trickles of ideas, the cool, clean imagery that revealed itself every time she scaled another rise. Her breath was fog, damp ghosts, an underground lava spring venting pressure. The jagged rocks fairly gleamed beneath the bright sphere of the moon, cast in shades of otherworldly silver. They gave birth to the kinds of impenetrable shadows that slithered if not carefully watched. Rue moved through them effortlessly, and the borealis of her body chased some of the black depths away.

When the ache in her limbs became difficult to ignore, she paused to rest on a more or less flat precipice, turning to look back at the winding path she'd taken. It looked treacherous enough to have warded off the casual climber, sharp juts of the earth's crust liable to split someone open on the way up. She had navigated it mostly by instinct, not sparing much thought to the individual pitfalls. Unwise, perhaps, but the sights available to her had been unique enough to ignore the hazards.

Rue breathed deeply, feeling her way around the emotions stirred up by the momentary solitude. She enjoyed it at times, the opportunity to recharge, to find and fit in the small details that might carry a nebulous narrative onto more solid ground. But a storyteller needed an audience, and there was none to be found this near to the sky. The mare turned and halted, eyes narrowing to twin pinpricks against the efflorescent patterns of her face. Something like firelight moved at the edges of her vision, orange and violent as it reflected off the curve of stone walls. Curiosity had her on her feet almost immediately, and she picked her way along the narrow pathway, intent on the promise of light and life in so remote a place.  

[Tsunake]

The frigid air and howling gales did wonders to keep his sweltering temperature at a reasonable level, but he could not help but feel as though the element were merey tempering him into an even greater tool of destruction. Such thoughts spurred him into frenzied action, his rage bubbling out through his very being until rivulets of magma oozed forth in time with his beating heart. His hoofprints hissed every time he took a step, melting permafrost into little more than steam.

Any sense of smell was rendered useless due to the cold, else he might have noticed that he was not alone up on the peak. He could not say how long it had been since he'd even seen another being, let alone spoken to one. The strange glow snatched him out of his blind tantrum, his body growing rigid with surprise. The beast whirled to face his opponent, his stance widening aggressively even as a gout of flame roared from his nostrils with a snort.

That baleful, fiery gaze roamed over the smaller beast, confused by the oddly wolfish features to her and the strange, disorientating glow that made it impossible for his eyes to focus on her easily.

A thunderous rumble quaked in his chest for a moment, and fire jettisoned down his back. She should not be here. She should not! Heat erupted from his body even as he bellowed his rage at her, threatening to sear her where she stood. Fortunately, the cold air might provide something of a shield for an ordinary Soquili. The stallion had no way of knowing this was far from an ordinary Soquili, however...

Lady Ourania

 

[Lady_Ourania]

She rounded the last corner, the scrape of her shoulder against a rocky outcropping leaving soot-slight imprints on the stone. Before her, a smooth platform sprawled, its glittering exterior interrupted by a series of massive, smoking footprints. But the main draw was the creature making them even now. His movements were jagged, distracted, hinting at something uncontrolled. A rare glimmer of surprise wound its way along her features, fanning what had been mere inquisitiveness to new heights. Rue had known there would be fire, a blaze hot enough to withstand the environment, and a being present to stoke it into being. She hadn't expected the net of flame that made up his flesh, his hulking shape serving as a beacon upon a mountain not made to contain him. What was it that bound a magma flow to that particular shape? Or was it more malleable, capable of rearing off him at a moment's notice and baring the torched bones beneath? Her fire was straightforward, enclosed by an otherwise unremarkable shape, all of it at the mercy of her muse. But his was something else entirely. A story significant enough to produce that conflagration would have been shared among Ember Speakers, lest it consumed them. She had heard of it happening, of course, but to see someone like this...

When the stallion turned on her, Rue carefully wiped her expression clean, a mask to rival the one he wore. A mistake, if his hostility was any indication, all that frenzied pacing suddenly directed toward another outlet. Still, it was difficult to be anything other than fascinated, her own smoldering sockets observing his actions with care. His eyes were eyes from what she could tell, organs held in place by a heavy brow that seemed perpetually creased in anger. A serpentine tail left singe marks on everything it touched.

The trail of fire that appeared along his spine lit the space between them, and the slabs of rock that swam on his surface were nearly lost in the resultant heat spike. Her ears peeled away from the noise that burst out of him, taking refuge in her short mane. It was loud enough to echo, ricocheting well past the way she'd come. Anyone who heard it would blame the spirits, or attribute it to yet another unnatural presence. Strange that the truth was more fantastic. Whatever the case, it was clearly meant as a threat, the sort of intimidation that would have sent her uninitiated self tearing down the mountain. But Rue simply tilted her head slightly, waiting to see if he was done before allowing her ears to resume their previous standing. She could sense the heat wafting off of him, an oppressive wall of which he seemed keenly aware. Why else would he stay in place, rather than charging her directly? One backward step too many and she would run out of ground.

"Hello," she greeted, a curl of flame diving off the tip of her tongue in accompaniment. Her voice was nearly lost in the crackling of his skin, too soft by far, so she took a step forward. Then another. The warmth he radiated penetrated her fur, dwindled the frayed threads of her scarf down to nothing. "I won't hurt you," she said, oddly gentle as she took in his stance. Her claws and teeth were usually enough to give the wrong impression, though she doubted either would serve to injure him in any lasting manner.  

[Tsunake]

That soft spoken word cut through his ire, seeming to scrape against his hide with its strangeness. Hello. A greeting, from one intelligent being to another. Confusion threatened to smother his ever-burning anger, and the stallion's eyes widened with alarm when the wolfish creature advanced towards him seemingly without care for her own personal safety. The heat did not cause her to smoke and smolder, and such an oddity had the beast shift back a pace of his own, wondering what in the hells had come to his doorstep. He froze in his tracks when she offered her olive branch, immediately swinging his head from side to side to better take her in. Hurt him? Her?

It was the flame that crackled from her jaws that made the beast refocus, eyeing her paws and teeth with unabashed wariness. He still saw nothing that would cause him severe harm, but the fact that she'd said it at all was enough to make him question her motives.

His breath was the low, steady pumping of bellows, stoking the internal fire that never ceased inside of him. The stallion forced himself to hold his ground now, shaking off his stupor. Was she truly a being of flame? He studied her for a long moment, the silence weighed by each scraping lash of his tail, each shift of his heavy hooves. Slowly, after a moment, he exhaled roughly at her, more of a grating sigh than anything. Embers and sparks fly forth before it ceases abruptly.

He stares at her intently, studying her face. He seems to be waiting for something, brimming with tension and crackling energy.

Lady_Ourania

 

[Lady_Ourania]

His retreat made Rue halt in place, not about to subject him to the same messy fall from which he'd spared her. It was not difficult to sense his uncertainty, his skepticism, the emotions spanning the length of his body as fires erupted and receded in magma bursts. She remained perfectly still beneath his inspection, only the flames that flourished in her skull animating her expression. The stallion stood opposed at what he'd no doubt deemed to be a safe proximity, his frame a contrast of constant motion, little ticks of half-formed gestures and the ever-undulating state of his anatomy. Rue found it all mesmerizing, and privately wondered if there existed a pattern in the chaos, some way to read the inferno if one paid enough attention. Anyone else might have found their eyes melted from their sockets for their trouble. Fortunately, that would not be an issue for someone with her particular skill set. The fire served as her shield in the moment, but also an extension of her patience. A storyteller who rushed their craft invited countless issues, from coherency and pacing to structural failure. Experience had taught her that interactions of this nature were much the same.

Gradually, the stallion calmed down, no longer liable to snap and snarl at her for the least offense. Yet he still did not speak, and Rue wondered if perhaps a language barrier was at work. She considered the possibility for a long moment, attempting to remember the smattering of foreign overtures she'd been taught when he moved. His jaws cracked open, and her ears quivered slightly at their tips, intent on catching whatever fell out. Breath came in place of words, a concentrated channel of heat strewn with evidence of their shared element. It broke like a fever across her forehead, heavy and sweet with the scent of autumn fire. A spark bounced harmlessly off her eyelid, tumbled down her cheek and was lost in the maze of her fur. She studied him for a handful of seconds afterward, gauging his reaction before she stepped carefully up to him, going up on her toes to meet his greater height. Her reply was softer as she breathed across his muzzle, a plume of flame darting out to lick against his mask and an exposed lower lip.

The fiery exchange struck a chord in her, and suddenly she was an initiate again, young and full of doubt. A wildfire tore through the herdlands that year, and the Ember Speakers had ushered them to a safe vantage point until the blaze wore itself out. It had been beautiful, in a way, everything alight, painted in sunset tones that smoldered for days. The heat and the smell had driven some of the more sensitive students to the relative safety of the caverns, but she had watched for as long as she could, blinking a film of smoke from her then-eyes. In its wake, the conflagration left whisper-thin sketches of what were once trees and animals, a charcoal rendering of previous lives. Walking in the dust afterward, Rue had imagined she could still feel the echo of its path, the warmth retained in the ashes seeping up through the pads of her feet. It had stirred conflicting feelings up in her: awe interwoven with shame for her fixation, interest and sorrow vying for control as she stepped over small, blackened bones. But in disentangling her emotions, she'd realized that none of them were fear. Never once had she been afraid.

When she felt the message had been conveyed, Rue stepped back to a polite distance, her tail curving like a question. The palpable threat of him had resurrected long-since dormant mannerisms, and she offered him a small, thoughtful smile. "I am Rue of the Ember Speakers," she said, smoke curling the edges of her words. "I saw you once, in another life. You were resplendent." She paused, flames tickling the inside of her nostrils before she added, "You still are."  

[Tsunake]

His sparks had the unintended side-effect of striking her and though he did not flinch, he prepared for the sizzle of flesh and the searing stink of burning hair. He received neither; the spark darted into the darkness of her pelt and vanished as though it belonged there all along. His nostrils flared soundlessly at such a sight, his eyes focused sharply upon her face. This, he was beginning to realize, was no mere Soquili. He had met their kind, hurt them unintentionally, and fled to this mountain top where his terrible rages would harm no one. But she had boldly strode into his domain, fearless, but gentle in her strangeness. It was the only reason that he stood silently as she approached, permitting her to draw close despite his instinctive reaction to pull back less she bloom into flame. His eyelids shuttered closed as foreign heat brushed up against his face, and the beast sighed smoke.

She was something else. Something more.

The words were enough to make his eyes snap open again, listening intently as she spoke. Rue. Ember Speakers. Seen him. Him? His serpentine tail hissed as it slid against the stone, and he angled his head down to better watch her. When she said it, he believed it. Another life... His suspicions confirmed, the stallion seemed to relax a little further, studying her strange, elegant features.

There was a low, croaking sort of noise in his throat, having never properly learned what it was to speak. However, he acknowledged her words and answered them the only way he knew how, shifting his posture and expressing through his body that he was receptive to what she was saying.

She was a spirit of flame. There was no doubt as to why she'd come.  

[Lady_Ourania]

It seemed mimicry had been an acceptable reply, something like a truce awash in the smoke signals dribbling from his parted jaws. A few low, inept sounds followed, and her dark brows lowered slightly as dismay clipped her to the core. Not a language barrier, then, but an inability to shape words. An Ember Speaker without a voice was a grievous portent indeed, an affliction from which many did not return. The story-eaten were often a cacophony of noise, muttered fragments and syllables from their tellings that had no relation to one another. But she had only ever witnessed one such individual in person, and did not doubt that variations existed in the malady. Muteness struck her as the worse of the two fates. Denied the very talent that made him what he was, a story living untold and alight beneath the surface of his skin. What would he sound like if he could speak? Would it be closer to the grinding of tectonic plates, or the bubbling froth of magma pockets? Perhaps something gentler, closer to woodsmoke and the feather-light crunch of ash underfoot. But for now, there was nothing. She swallowed to better feel the seethe of words awaiting release in her own throat, and drove the coursing sympathy deeper down. To pity him would be a disservice to what he had been, and what he was at present.

Still, even if he could not converse openly with her, his endeavors when it came to communication were admirable. She watched him, his movements artful in and of themselves. In the dark of this place, he resembled some miniature sun suspended where none should reside; he angled his head and the shadows jumped, brought down his hoof and the earth ignited. Bled of their previous fury, his gestures were more restrained. Yet they appeared to indicate that he had understood her, comprehension unimpeded by whatever had strangled his voice. Rue nodded to show she saw his intent, feeling it important that she returned his courtesy. It was clear that he did not normally go to so much effort for guests, especially judging from the remoteness of the place in which they found themselves.

Unfortunately, body language could only go so far. He had her name and status, but could offer her nothing in return. Rue used her new vantage point to examine the creases in his mask, the cracked web of his skin as it burbled and swam, venting heat. Why was he up here all alone? Surely their kinsmen would have helped him, had they known of his condition. At the very least they would have eased his inner turmoil with their presence, a familiar flame they were constructed to withstand. Which meant this was a self-imposed exile of sorts. How lonely it must have been, she thought absently, to burn so bright in a place none could see.

Rue opened her mouth, and firelight spilled across her lower lip as she framed what she wished to say. "There existed a deity once, in the old tales. He held dominion over flame, forge..." She regarded their surroundings, and found herself warming to the prophetic quality such a setting provided. "Volcanoes. He dwelt in one such place, and peddled his craft there. His work was without peer, but he was alone, different and isolated from the other gods." She raised her chin to better catalogue his reaction, still close enough that she could see the igneous draw of his throat. "Many called him Vulcan. It is not so terrible a namesake, I think."  

[Tsunake]

The silence was comfortable, the crackling of flames dimmed to a soft, merry sort of sound, almost a hum against the cavern walls. He studied her silently, taking in the hidden heat that brimmed underneath the surface of her skin, engulfing her insides and emerging only in the glimmer of her eyes and mouth. How had he not seen it before? Rage had, yet again, blinded him. But oddly now, the beast felt... calm. Still. The worst of his fires had been soothed into something more manageable, and his ears pricked slightly when she spoke once more.

It was a story he had not heard before, his gaze sharpening as he lowered his head to better catch her words. A deity... Of flame, of forge--isolating himself far away from others. It resonated strangely within him, steam trickling in steady plumes from his nostrils.

Vulcan.

He rumbled low and deep in his throat, his tail swishing adamantly behind him. Did she wish to call him such a thing? He had no arguments. A name was something foreign to him, but to be given one by a spirit of flame... There was a sharp puff of acquiesce from him, tilting his helmed head so he could eye her a bit more closely. If she wished to give him the gift of a name, he would accept and wear it with pride. Perhaps a name with tether him more into this world.

If not, it was still a precious thing. He would not forget it. He was Vulcan, so said Rue of the Ember Speaker--a spirit that had blessed him of all beings. The thought alone made his fire flare all the brighter, feeding off of his pride.  

[Lady_Ourania]

She was once again left to interpret his answer, slotting together the guttural noises and exaggerated displays that made up the entirety of his vocabulary. Given the tranquil set to his features, yet another cloud of steam rising from his lips, she took it as an affirmation of sorts. Vulcan. Yes, it suited him well, from his masked face to the rivers of firelight that corrugated his flesh. Her mouth tilted upward for a second time, strangely satisfied by his own show of pleasure as it stained the stone walls around them. Naming was the first step to shedding the silence that encased him, a reclamation that started with the simplest of overtures. He may never regain his former glory, but neither should he be allowed to languish here, cold and without the balm of even occasional company.

That last thought saw her smile curling away, the fires that inhabited her stare banked slightly in contemplation. She had left the Kindled herd to pursue her own studies and stories, but perhaps a reunion was in order. At the very least, Vulcan should be afforded the chance to learn anew where he'd come from, and what it meant to reach the status of Ember Speaker among their people. The eldest of them would no doubt have more experience in such matters than she when it came to the story-eaten. If Rue could convince him to leave this mountaintop, perhaps she might also encourage him to follow her further? It presumed a great deal, not only his willingness, but also her commitment to escort him all the way. Her path had been meandering with no true destination in mind, but she estimated it would take at least a month or so of travel before they came close to where the Kindled spun their tales.

Rue knew her own limits when it came to company, but she hesitated to guess Vulcan's threshold. The fury that had driven him when she'd first stepped into his territory was not so far in the past that she'd forgotten its heat. He did not seem opposed to her presence now, but without knowing his mind, it was hard to guess why. And did he think in words, she wondered, or was it more abstract than that? The mare shook her head to chase the minor curiosity away, such musings best left until she'd solved their current predicament. There was no sense in denying that her interest in him far outweighed any reservations, and it seemed clear that his sundered state did him no favors. She had hazarded worse for far less.

"But do not let your name serve as an excuse to shackle yourself here, Vulcan. You are not alone. There are others who would call us kin, though they are far from here." She turned her molten stare outward, lifting her furred chin to indicate a southerly direction past the boundaries of the mountain's hold. "The Ember Speakers dwell within the Kindled herd, and they would gladly accept you into their order." Rue paused then, attention fallen wholly on him once more. "They are like me. Like you. I will bring you to them, if that is your wish."  

[Tsunake]

She spoke of shackles, of others like her, and to be counted as though his existence could even compare to their numbers was utterly profound. The terrible heat that radiated from his very being had been seen as a curse for so long, the reason for his voluntary banishment to these inhospitable peaks. Here, there was no one to hurt. The stone and ice did not scream when he grew near--but, neither did she. The thought of more spirits that could not only withstand his flames, but welcome them?

The rumbling, tea-kettle hiss of his breath was the only sound beside the howl of the wind, and his molten gaze was unfixed as the beast contemplated. With one simple statement, this Rue Ember Speaker had undone everything of the life he'd forged for himself.

To stay would mean to never know these spirits and the kinship she claimed. With her presence, she could ward away the ignorant and unwary, keeping them safe from the nondiscriminatory heat that seared the air around himself. Slowly, his eyes shifted to fix on her with a new sort of clarity, a light that had died off long ago here in these barren mountains.

He extended his neck slowly, still not daring to touch her for fear that her fur and flesh would sear just like the rest. Still, he breathed as she had, allowing his fire to lick at her maw before he withdrew. He gazed at her with an odd sort of peace, a creature utterly different from the wrathful fury that had bellowed at her only moments ago.

Where she went, he would follow. He would not spurn her generosity.

Lady_Ourania

 

[Lady_Ourania]

Only that quiet, pent up noise came in response to her offer, managing to sound pensive despite the volcanic parallels it conjured in her mind. She waited, tolerant of the silence while watching him for another reaction, a distinct affirmation or refusal. The horned mask made it hard to gauge any emotive ticks, and his startlingly expressive eyes weren't on her, wandered the length of the frozen peak as though he'd find his answer there. Rue let her own gaze drift downward, along the undulating mesh of flames that made up his neck, the gentle heave of his sides. He'd flared up when she'd first appeared, a defense mechanism and a discharging of directionless fury all in one. Now he seemed subdued, not quenched but... tempered. Contained.

What other insights she might have found there once were obscured now, a tale overwritten, erupted past its usual bounds. Perhaps given enough time, they might learn to read each other better? The idle musing caught her off guard, recognizing with a kind of wry self-deprecation that he could still turn from her, resume his mountain vigil. Leaving him here with nothing but snow and his own firelight for companionship struck her as cruel, but she would not force him. And she somehow doubted he would base his decision on whether or not it was narratively satisfying, no matter his roots.

When his head swung back around to her, Rue tilted her chin up to meet that tentative gesture, ears swiveling to listen. Instead he moved toward her, gentle and deliberate, as though anticipating she might shy away. Her mouth eased open at the first sign of breath, a flicker of warm, soft surprise stoking itself across her illuminated frame, flushing pink through the skulls that peered out of her pelt. But she didn't flinch, let the flames slither between her teeth, stir up the fires that layered her tongue. In it, she tasted acceptance, agreement, his way of meeting her on her terms without asking more of himself than he could give.

Rue dipped her chin toward her furred chest, unable to hide the pleased smile that carved across her dark features. "Thank you, Vulcan. I'll do whatever I can to make sure your trust isn't misplaced." It boded well that he appeared relaxed, ready to deliver himself into her company without a backwards glance. Whether he could maintain that disposition remained to be seen, but at least he seemed willing to try. "Come, then. We'll make our way down together." Despite a lingering soreness in her muscles from the ascent, Rue felt reinvigorated. Now that his consent was assured, she was eager to take Vulcan from this place, leave the traces of hulking footprints and ash behind for good.