Completed Boiling sea

Thraah

Thraah

Fire Kitten
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Can't Stop!
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396
Character Biography
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"Pick it UP let's go!"
Thraah was pacing back and forth like a caged animal.
Her patience had worn thin.
She wore her tunic over her leathers, metal was not always so helpful against magic users.
She swung the chain in her left hand and slapped her short sword against her right thigh.
Dueling was less bloodsport than it used to be since the revolution but it was still dangerous and had caused more than one initiate to have to retire.
Across from her Iscandor made himself ready.
There were some initiates watching the courtyard already. The ground was marked in a large wooden triangle.
She could feel the heat coming from her belly already as she got herself worked up. The hotter the better.
"Come on Salty I'm dying of old age here!"
In truth she was glad of the impromptu challenge made. She had scared a few others off so she wanted got get a good one out of Iscandor before he decided to not ask her again.

Iscandor Karon
 
Unlike the unruly woman wished, the young man did not hurry anything up. Instead he sat down in a criss-cross, closed his eyes, and felt for the power of water. He could have taken it from Thraah in the form of blood, but blood manipulation (An offshoot of water manipulation.) was essentially fatal to it’s victim if they did not have a counter, which he was sure was the case for his opponent. Plus, he needed an arsenal for the fight, not a way to end it. Looking to other sources, he found there was a fair bit of groundwater underneath the school, but it would take a long time to get to his location. However, there was a pond nearby, one he regularly visited to swim by himself. Mentally apologizing to all the fish he was about to kill, he extended his hand and called most of the pond over, nearby glass windows shattering as almost two hundred gallons of water neatly filed inside the building and began forming into projectiles of various sizes, ranging from boulder-sized balls to tiny pellets.

“I am inclined to say you are the salty one, whoever you are.” He’d say with a disinterested look, still concentrating. This much water was almost nothing to his mana reserves, but it still required focus nonetheless, and he would not have it broken by trash talk. Finally, he stood, launching to his feet with the help of a forceful stream of water, the liquid reforming and dragging itself off his clothes. Finally, two streams of water leapt off two of the bigger water balls and wrapped themselves around his now drawn daggers, making them about the size of broadswords. His daggers imparted the magic of heat resistance upon anything non-living they touched, which was good, because the water that made up a portion of his melee instrument began boiling.

Settling himself into a combat stance, he’d stare ahead at his opponent. “Now, I’m ready. As thanks for waiting, you may make the first move.”
 
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It was impressive to watch the little crab to gather all that water hold it and even fun to hear all that glass break.
No doubt that would send some Proctors running.
Thraah didn't want to waste this opportunity but this guy clearly wanted to skip to the end. No playful escalation, not even starting out steel against steel.
"Straight away, with all the whooshing and washing eh?"
She gave a cackle as she watched the water perform its various tasks. Projectiles, defense's, augmenting weapons.
"You got the whole set going there. I'm impressed."
She dropped her weapons to her side and strode towards him letting her body temperature rise higher and higher.
To get it warm enough, hot enough she had to get angry.
"Come on then. You got a whole ocean up there. Hit me!"
She lashed out at him with the chain a simple attack to test the waters, as it were.
The pun made her smile wide.
 
“You would rather I started with daggers alone? Well, that would be boring. I’d have no time to set all this up.” he’d say, gesturing to every threat to Thraah’s safety hovering behind him in one sweep of the hand. With a bow, he would then smile at the compliment and return it. “Thanks. You have a pretty nice ability yourself.” He’d nod, now looking less serious. He’d smirk at the comment about having an ocean at his hands. “Au contraire, mesdemoiselle. This is but three-fourths of a pond. I could never hope to be quite as strong as the ocean. Not even close.” He wanted to finish this before the proctors got here, since suffering the joys of menial labor was not how he planned to spend the day.

Besides that, however, he had to think of his lungs. It did not happen when he was simply holding the water, but when he fought with it, his lungs slowly filled with liquid. It was no big deal to relieve his lungs of the water given his powers, but he found he could not do it while fighting. His dagger turned sword’s augment did not have this effect, since he was not affecting the water in any significant way. Finally Thraah struck, and he deflected the blow with his boiling blade, quickly watching the metal slightly melt on the side of it. Quickly taking two of the Larger water balls and forming a giant hand, he’d try to grab then yank the chain and therefore knock Thraah off their feet.
 
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Thraah landed face first in the dirt and lay still. The force of the giant water hand had pulled her right off her feet as intended.
*Okay. We're just going all out then.*
She slowly picked herself up and refused to pick up her weapons.
Cracking her neck left then right she began to raise her temperature to well above livable for a human body, almost any body actually.
"YOU WANT THE MAGIC?"
She planted her feet as grass about her began to write and brown.
"YOU WANNA SHOW OFF??"
The dirt about her boots turned to glass under the heat. All moisture in an ever widening radius about her evaporated to nothing and the earth scorched.
She didn't have to burn him or melt him, just get him to leave the triangle.
She thought of something painful to believe.
*My family is dead.*
The radius of her heat expanded. Where it touched the smaller projectiles of water they sizzled to vapour then less than that.
The wood of the triangular boundary blackened and charred.
"HOT ENOUGH FOR YA?!?!"
Thraah began to walk towards Iscandor.
 
(TW: Suicidal Thoughts)

Iscandor marveled at the staggering heat, then gripped the hilt of one of his daggers, dispelling the boiling water and applying heat resistance to himself. Then, he brought down a large ball of water and wrapped himself in it, using the other dagger to grant it heat resistance. Finally, he made a slight hole inside it, manipulating the water just enough that he could breathe inside of it. He then, began to speak while taking the water out of his lungs. There was a lot, and it had almost started to get to the point of choking. “The ocean is so vast and titanic only the sun itself could destroy it. The first rule of magic states there is always a drawback to using large amounts of power.” he’d warn, hoping his voice would make it outside the sphere. “I don’t want you to die, you fucking showoff.” The young man would say this genuinely, giving the incredibly pissed off orc a look of guilt. Would his magic kill another?

Long ago, he had been found to have magic. At the academy, another young initiate had been playing with him in the pond, a place he had an affinity for, and the young man was giving his friend a ride on geysers, which he could make by simply throwing his hands up and using magic. Usually, how he did that was by focusing on a tiny point and gathering water to it, resulting in an explosion of force. He usually felt this happen. One day, as he was laughing and playing, he focused on something that felt like water. He did his geyser actions again, but this time much less gathered. As he was a child, instead of being concerned, he simply threw up his hands and next thing he knew there was screaming. He quickly located his friend struggling in the pool, and saw a red flower of blood blooming there. What he had latched on to was an artery in the other child’s neck, and his upward motion snapped the thing. There was so much internal bleeding his friend’s entire neck and chin turned purple as a violet.

Well, it did in the few seconds before she died, stopped struggling, and sunk to the bottom. He had not been caught because his buddy resurfaced a few days after the crime and he had no witnesses to testify that he did it. That very day, he swore off ever using blood magic again. Then, as all stupid and dishonorable children do, he ran. He ran back to the academy and never spoke to any of his proctors again.

When he was about 14, memories of the incident arose and he tried to kill himself for it, but before a sharp bullet of water could end him completely, he fell into a trance where he dreamed his friend told him not to do it, and that the mistake that occurred that day he had obviously learned from. Eyes flashing back to the present day as a giant wave of heat struggled to do anything to the ball, he told himself that if anything happened to the orc he was fighting, he would go through with his plan then, only this time nothing and nobody would come to stop him.

“My friend died because of me. I can see this going bad too. I’ll just…step out of the triangle. It’s not worth it. He would have done so as well, if a headache unlike anything he had ever experienced hit him as he was turning away. What you see….as kindness….will more than likely….hurt her more…than your magic ever could. A voice would say, the voice of his best friend from all that time ago. He flashed back for a moment to when he had felt bad for his friend, who’s name was Tyris, she stared him straight in the eyes and said that he shouldn’t waste time feeling bad for her. Pitying her. As to make her claim more serious, she said their friendship was over if it ever happened again. Luckily, they never had such an argument again.

Steeling himself, he would lift himself out of the bubble and begin to feel very hot, but it was manageable thanks to the dagger enchantment. His movements were a teensy bit more sluggish thanks to the heat, but he still managed to split it into 6 medium sized projectiles without much difficulty and shot them at Thraah. With another hand, he would bring a large ball to him and shrink it so that when he activated it with his magic it would burst into full size. He then takes the dagger connected to those six and touches the tiny sphere, transferring the power from the 6 fast moving water bullets to the small sphere, which he shoots at a much faster speed at his target.

Now, to only hope they didn’t notice.
 
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Why did he keep looking at her like that?
What was in his eyes that made her... othered?

"DON'T WORRY ABOUT ME! I'M WALKING ON SUNSHINE!"
The last word emphasised another wave as she made her way closer. The air got hot, uncomfortable. Stones began to grow too warm to touch about them.
"I'M SHOWING OFF?"
Thraah began to march over to Iscandor. Not a care for her safety so it seemed, in an attempt to force him out of the Triangle.
"YOU OPENED WITH A SMALL LAGOON OF PROJECTILES, CRAB BOY. I BROUGHT MY CHAIN AND A SWORD. YOU COATED YOUR LITTLE BUTTER KNIFES IN MAGIC WATER BLADES OR SOME SHIT AND DON'T THINK I MISSED THAT LITTLE SPLASH ON YOUR CLOTHES. AFRAID OF GETTING BURNED ARE WE?"
Her head ignited, most of her torso as well, her clothes smoked and frayed. They wouldn't last forever but she was too indignant to care. She'd walk back to her cell naked if she had to.
Then he said about leaving so she turned it off. It wasn't super satisfying but hey, a win was a win. The temperature began to slowly return to normal and Thraah smiled over at Iscandor, not really noticing that he was already attacking her.
"Okay then. Well it was a good run. No hard..."
*blap, blap-blap blap-blap-blap!*
Six water projectiles struck her in shoulder, head, leg and abdomen. Sending her once again off her feet and onto the hard and very hot ground.
She began to move then the big one hit. Expanding rapidly and hissing as the excess water sprayed the ground and created a tiny rainbow effect.
Thraah was knocked clean into the air and landed on her back with a with a hard CRACK!
Her hands shook as she raised them into the air and flipped Iscandor the double bird.
"Fuckin... dirty... cheat..."

Thraah could taste blood and things were getting foggy as she tried to get up very slowly. Her whole body ached like, well like she had landed poorly in a rushing river and been carried downstream, bumped off every rock on the way.
 
"Oh no, I was actually going to step out of the circle so you wouldn't die, but a friend told me just before I did what is essentially: "Don't be a pussy, or I'll hate you forever." I figured you'd like an actual win instead of a forfeit as well, so the logic was sound." He'd say, taking the time to bring all of the water out of his lungs and hyperheating them so it looked like he was blowing off actual steam instead of vomiting water (which he also was not doing, for the record). It got less close to killing him that time, but only because he had unintentionally tricked Thraah.

He had about all of his water left, because the only amount of water that had touched Thraah had been heat resistant and therefore did not evaporate. Moving his hands behind his back, he'd give a small glance at the arena, something like regret. "You said you were walking on sunshine before this. Well, if that's true still, I'm relieved." He'd say this with a weird note to his voice, something sad. "Still, while I don't totally hate Crab Boy, given that namesake is a hardy survivor with an incredibly tough to hurt body, I believe it would be more appropriate to call me...Ocean Boy, maybe."
With that, the young man would grin and chase the momentary sadness away, moving his hands back into view, then crouching and slamming his hands into the ground to send magic through it, his power finding the water below and attempting to force it up, which he directed like a symphony by standing ramrod straight and lifting his hand up. The idea was to make a strong geyser up, like a bubbling spring. Honestly, this move was inconsistent at best, and faulty at worst, but he decided to go through with it anyway despite it requiring him to constantly be in contact with the ground to reach the water. His accidental trick against his opponent left him with just a small amount of guilt, so allowing Thraah to take "advantage" might make for suitable recompense.

Well, that was, if Thraah had the strength to move out of the way of the geyser soon to break through the ground and savagely punch their stomach. "Arkham, Toltz!" He'd yell without looking, having recognized some of the initiates in the audience while he was getting ready. "I know you two, you seem relatively willing to follow the proctors' orders. I'll give you both a good amount of silver if you'd take whoever loses to the infirmary." Still focusing, he would jitter a bit when one of the initiates he was talking to said something...unwise.

"You mean take Thraah to the infirmary? It's basically over." The young man, then smiled a bit, whether at the pleasure of possibly making the fight harder or the joy of getting paid for free. "It's not over at all, but thanks for underestimating someone who's power increases as their emotional state heightens, probably making them even more mad. It was true, he had ascertained how their power worked, although it was so obvious that the little bit of deduction was anything but impressive. He tensed, knowing that the brash and proud Thraah would not take too kindly to that level of disrespect and therefore make his part of the duel even more challenging.

 
Unfortunately, Thraah couldn't hear any of Iscandor's explanation as the heinous ringing in her ears was too much at the moment.
Something was rumbling.
*The fuck is that noise?*
Her eyes went wide as the ground beneath her went wet in an instant.
She rolled left, arms aching, spitting blood, cursing crab boy under her breath.
*Fucking psycho is trying to kill me. So fucking stupid he can't tell I'm licked...*
The geyser burst upwards and showered the steaming earth in hissing mist.
She rolled until she was outside the triangle.
Surely he wasn't so bloodthirsty to keep going now.
There she lay on her stomach one arm and her face up on the charred wood looking at him with the sternest look of "What is wrong with you?" She could muster.
If she had it in her to talk she would have cursed him out. Really given him a tongue lashing but she really was feeling worse for wear.
She spat more blood on the ground, it sizzled.
If he tried to hit her again she was gonna make him regret it though she had no idea how are that time.

Iscandor Karon
 
"Wrong? Was I really in the wrong? I was simply trying to win, because every time I use my power it has the chance to kill me. Also, that attack takes a really long time to wind up. Scare tactics more than anything." He'd breathe out, dispelling the magic and letting the various water implements fall to the ground with a splash. He'd surely take a bunch of abuse at the hands of the proctors for his disregard for windows, but it was worth it. Watching her spit blood on the ground made him cringe involuntarily. "If you need help, I can get you to the infirmary myself-" he'd begin to offer, pausing as his money-hungry hired muscle came up with a stretcher. "Sir! We're here.” They’d say, eyes straying towards his pockets. He’d chuckle to himself, thinking about how easily manipulated the greedy little imbeciles in front of him were.

“Apologies for my lying. I was truly going to leave, but then someone…someone…” he’d trail off, looking away and remembering his best friend and victim’s smiling face. “Someone told me to finish the fight. I had to do it at their bidding, but I don’t think you care why.”

“Finally, why did I attack you when you were obviously knackered and out of it? You’re strong, and the potential of your ability is huge. I wasn’t going to let my guard down and lose my advantage, not for a second against you. I suppose I was scared of being burned.”

With that, he’d begin to leave, only checking back once to see if the poor woman was asleep. If and only if they were, he’d signal to his temporary goons to pick her up and put her on the stretcher. He’d walk back to them and accompany them to the infirmary, taking a seat next to his opponent’s bed.

Finally, he’d pay them out with five rusted bronze coins each, pretending his silver coins had rusted due to the sheer water force. Luckily, they weren’t the smartest of chaps and he managed to send them away with an assurance any shopkeeper would easily be able to spot their value.

(If you want to end it here, that’s cool, but I think a personal moment in the infirmary would be neat.)
 
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Eyes closed, Thraah was trying to sleep.
Which was difficult because she was aching from head to foot. The healing magic of the academy was never it's strong point and she was pretty sure that one of the elixers she was given to increase her natural healing was actually squirrel piss.
Being stationed outside on the balcony didn't even bother her really. Since pyros were not allowed to be confined with all the alcohol.
One of the newer safety features.
She kept herself warm and tried to enjoy the evening air. Her left eye was swollen shut and she had a cracked tooth that made it hurt to eat, talk and yawn.
Her left arm was bruised bloody and her right knee felt like it had completely exploded.

If she never saw that utter lunatic Crab boy again it would be all too soon.
(Okay, infirmary scene but don't expect her to be happy.)
 
(I wouldn’t expect her to be happy. My guy just hammered her with the equivalent of an overclocked fire hose point blank to a regular person’s face)

Iscandor sat across from Thraah’s bed on the balcony, looking out at the stars with a tired glance, eyes struggling to stay open. Still, he had to stay awake in case Thraah woke up, since she would definitely be mad when he was found straight across from them. As he scanned her body, he took in the scope of just how badly he had beaten her with that sucker punch combo of his.

Phantom pain erupted across his body as he looked at all the injuries. He himself had been hurt once on a mission, and though he survived, the healing and medicinal help that was given could only be described as Grade F dogshit. Also, his injuries had not been this bad, so he felt even worse.

Thusly, he continued to sit, determined to see that Thraah would be ok and get through this rough patch. He also mentally prepared himself for all the insults he would probably be on the receiving end of, given that taking insults was not exactly a strong suit of his.

Still, maybe this time and this time alone he deserved it, a thought that made him laugh aloud to himself before he quickly shut up and hoped the ward’s newest patient had not heard.
 
"Oh gods... Blood."
Her one good eye squinted in an attempt to focus on Iscandor. After failing to lift her left hand she raised her right and with a simple click of her fingers lit a small flame on her middle finger. Oh there he was. Yippie. She made sure she was pointing the bird at him.
"You here... to finish me... Crab boy?"
Speaking through her swollen jaw was extra painful but she was damned if she was gonna not spit in this assassins eye, verbally at least. Even though every word was a fresh welt of pain.
Why did this dink have to visit her?
Where was Maseno or Vicky? Heck she'd take Liv the walking divining rod over crab-boy.
 
“Finish who? I was not trying to kill you, nor am I going to now. Well, I expected a bit more of a fiery welcoming from you, but this is fine too. I just wanted to make sure you were alright after my hired help got ya to the infirmary. I’ve been waiting since then, so you can be sure if I wanted to finish what I started I’ve had more than enough opportunity.” He’d say this with a relieved expression. If Thraah was awake enough to spout ludicrous theories like that, she would definitely be fine with a few more days of bed rest.

Due to this, he began to speak again, this time in a more soft and quiet tone. “I’m sorry for tricking you. I was really going to step out of the triangle. My water manipulation doesn’t make me immune to water, and so I guessed that you’d eventually burn up, or something. I accidentally killed my best friend when I used my magic on her blood instead of the lake below. The spell was supposed to make the water form a geyser, so the artery in her neck burst like…well, like a geyser.

He put as much emotion into his voice as he could muster in his tired state and stared her seriously in the eyes.

“After that, I didn’t admit anything. I just told myself I would never be involved in killing my friends or teammates or really other people ever again, which is why I almost left the triangle. However, Before I did I remembered her telling me one day not to pity her or she’d stop being my friend, and I figured you would appreciate me trying my hardest instead of just running away…too.”

He’d sigh, finally finishing his horror story. “You may not believe me, but that’s the truth. I can’t give you a better apology than that without just telling you what you want to hear.”
 
Thraah blinked at him.
What just happened? Why was he telling her all this?
"Do you, always *cough* do what the, dead tell you, or is it just because you went, and assumed I'm a certain type, of unrelenting psycho?"
She made an effort to sit up on her elbows but gave up. Her head was still ringing. Whatever they gave her for the pain wasn't nearly enough.
"Which, is rude by the way. So fuck you for that. *Cough*"
Her mouth was dry and her head bobbed towards the water. She flicked the fire from her finger to the candle on the nightstand and lit it then made a more focused effort to sit up, succeeding this time.
"For the record, *cough*" this one had a bit of blood in it "I respect people, who do what they say they're gonna do.*cough* Which you fucking failed at today, hard."
Pouring herself a cup she drank a slow sip not looking at Iscandor. Gods blood it was refreshing.
"And expecting a fiery welcoming? Are you high? I'm not a fucking elemental I'm a person. There's more to me than my affinity crab-boy."
Thraah put the glass down, a drop of red blood was mingling with the water slowly, like ink.
 
"Fiery is an adjective, and by that I meant you would use much...much stronger language when first speaking to me. Still, I can see why you might not have the energy to do so.” He’d say this with a small wave, trying to assure her he didn’t just see them as a giant fireball. Then he’d smile lightly, kicking his feet up onto the balcony and resting them there. “For the record, I only do what THAT dead person told me to do because she was my best friend. No other ghosts flying around in my head, though, I can assure you of that.”

Giving Thraah a dubious eyebrow raise, he’d chuckle a bit ruefully. “Might be setting your standards a bit too high, but up to you. I’ll do my best to live up to your expectations from now on, though.” He’d say this in a way that made it sound casual, but perhaps learning to constantly follow through would have benefits outside of appeasing Thraah.

“Also, I don’t think you’re psycho. I just think you’re the other half of that. Unrelenting. I wasn’t going to let my guard down for a second during our fight, since if you got close even as weak as you were I don’t think I could handle a battle of hand to hand.”

He stood and glanced at the water cup, grimacing at the red flower he knew was blood blooming inside. “Can I replace your cup? You shouldn’t drink that anymore.” He’d walk back inside and snatch a metal cup off the counter and extend out his hand, offering the container to Thraah.
 
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Reactions: Thraah
It's like he heard the words but didn't listen to the meaning.
"I save my insults for folk who listen. You don't."
She lay back and took a deep breath.
"I get it though, you want people to be awed and impressed by how clever you use your magic water. Well step in line. This whole crap lousy place is full of insecure windbags so go sell that to another town."
Her principles were her own she didn't need validation from this liar who payed more heed to his own murder victims than the living. Her hand came up to her face to wipe the haire from before her good eye.
"I don't care who you fucking murdered or fucking how or fucking why. I care that you fucked up and nearly killed me because you lost control. How dare you assume I'll ever hurt myself with my power when you can't even tell who's a threat?"
By his story it wasn't murder really, an accident by the sound of it but fuck him. He wasn't the one laying in bed, unable to escape the dumbass who put him there because "the dead girl told him to".
When he offered her a fresh drink she knocked it from his hand sending it spilling over the floor and forth xed him with a gaze like death itself.
"You don't get it do you? You don't get to be my friend after this. You fucked that opportunity."
Through it all she held nothing for him but quiet contempt in her voice. Maybe if he showed some, heck any humility. Some semblance of acknowledgement that he was really in the wrong but stories about dead girls he killed and weak gestures of feigned kindness were not going to cut it.
They were as good as lies to Thraah.
 
"I don't listen to insults because insults are just talk, and I'm perfectly happy to not have to talk over screaming." He'd shrug and lean back in his chair. "This place is full of strong jerks who have no problem bullying the street rat. I have to be strong and impressive and awe-inspiring or else I'm just another loser to step over in the hallway. That may be insecure, but my attitude will take me places far above that of a Dreadlord initiate." He growled to himself as she suggested he lost control of his power. Lost control? He had never lost control since the day Tyris died, but she wasn't listening to him anyway.

"We fought in a duel, a battle between initiates known to sometimes leave people out of commission. My guard was never down, and you were a threat. As hot as you got today, I could tell you had more fire. I'm not apologizing for defending myself and honestly, your naivete shocks me. The world is anything but fair and so is life, and people will lie. I'll definitely say I told you so when one day someone tries to slash your throat after they say they won't and your guard is up enough to stop them."

"Anyway, that's fine. Well, then, I guess we'll never be friends, but I didn't need you as one anyway. I know you think I'm being a bitch about all of this, but I have beliefs, and one of those is not to apologize to anyone more than they deserve it. I'm not going to fall to my knees and repent because you can't handle being lied to." He'd say this seriously, standing up and beginning to walk away. "I just have one thing to say. You seemed so indignant when you thought I saw you as just your power. I lied ONCE, and now we can never be friends again? Are you really such a hypocrite that even though it's rude for me to see you as just a pyrokinetic, it's totally fine for my ONE lie to define your impression of who I am as a person?" With that, he'd turn around, walking to the door and slipping out of it, never to come back that night.

If nothing else, by this time tomorrow, everyone will know me as the guy who was fighting on the other side when you got your ass handed to you. He'd think with a grim smirk as he left.
 
Thraah waited until he was gone.
Checked around to see who was watching. Nobody, perfect.
Then sat bolt upright and gave a long stretch.
She picked up the metal cup and using it like a mirror looked at her eye. It was quite the shiner he gave her.
Sure he was ludicrously powerful but character meant more to her. He got turned off so easily. It was almost disappointing, almost.
She was still sore and that would last at least a week but she had leave to go a while ago. Stuck around to nap and when she woke up crab-boy was already sitting about like he knew her or some shit.
Getting up gingerly she stood at the rail of the balcony and spat a wad of bloody phlegm off the edge before looking up at the stars.
"Please, Gods of the Stars, Mother's of Night and Harbingers of the Heavens. Let my spit land right on crab-boys self righteous lil heado."
She then put her boots on and left, whistling poorly.

(Close it up, that's another thread in the bank.)
 
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