Ignea Rose D11 Done
Feb 12, 2014 0:30:35 GMT -5
Post by Sage on Feb 12, 2014 0:30:35 GMT -5
Ignea 'Flame' Rose
We, we don't have to worry 'bout nothing
'Cause we got the fire, and we're burning one hell of a something
They, they gonna see us from outer space, outer space
Light it up, like we're the stars of the human race, human race
'Cause we got the fire, and we're burning one hell of a something
They, they gonna see us from outer space, outer space
Light it up, like we're the stars of the human race, human race
Flames blossom like a flower opening in your hands as the sheet of paper ignites, curling the edges into the middle before devouring the rest of the paper. You smile, your blue eyes almost glowing in the orange tongues licking at the parchment. If there was one thing you loved in the world, it was fire, the way the flames seemed almost alive in your eighteen year old hands. You feel the heat against your fingertips and you instinctively drop the smoldering page, your fingers stinging slightly. You'd burned yourself a number of times but did that stop you from playing with fire, hell no. You take another match from the matchbook you'd found in your home and light it up, holding it gently to another piece of paper. It was almost artful the way the flames leaped from the edge of the match to catch the delicate parchment, coloring it black and white.
You pull back your brown hair, tying the loose waves out of the way of the flickering flames in your hands. You still had a small bald spot from when your hair got too close to the fire you so dearly loved and it had taught you the keep your hair up whenever you played with fire. Hearing footsteps behind you, you quickly dropped the page and stamped on it, your worn out sneakers taking away the oxygen required for the paper to continue burning. You turned just in time to see a peace keeper approaching you. "What are you doing miss?" he demands gruffly. You put on an innocent smile, stuffing the lighter into your jeans pocket. "Nothing." you reply, smiling. The peace keeper looks down at you, a tiny thing who's barely ever had enough. He sighs, rolling his eyes. "Be careful alright?" you nod, watching as he walks away, smiling to yourself. You'd managed to evade getting caught so far, being very careful whenever you played with fire to keep an eye out for peace keepers, you never knew when one would come and ruin your fun.
Your eyes scan the district, searching for something other than paper to set aflame, your eyes landing on a pile of old fabric. Perfect. Your hands wrap around the lighter in your pocket and a mischievous grin spreads across your face, lighting it up like the flames would light up the pile of fabric. This is gonna be fun
When the light started out they don’t know what they heard
Strike the match, play it loud, giving love to the world
We'll be raising our hands, shining up to the sky
'Cause we got the fire, fire, fire
Yeah we got the fire, fire, fire
Strike the match, play it loud, giving love to the world
We'll be raising our hands, shining up to the sky
'Cause we got the fire, fire, fire
Yeah we got the fire, fire, fire
The flames dance before your eyes, warmth blooming on your slightly tanned cheeks and you laugh, your laugh holding a slight hint of insanity. Were you sane? Um, your sanity was questionable considering you love setting things on fire. It was fascinating though and it was art to you. The tongues of red, orange and yellow were so graceful and beautiful. Your small feet carry you towards the pile of old linens, the lighter in your pocket begging you to hold it to the linens and set them alight, it would make them look a lot better than they were right now, dreary and dull, colorless almost from the winter, you just wanted to add some color to them. Getting to work quickly, you lit the lighter, lighting some of the paper you had left over and lighting it, the flames playfully eating at the page before you dropped it onto the fabrics.
Colors exploded from the fabric, orange and red and yellow flames bursting out of the material as if they had simply been waiting for a spark to ignite them. You laughed, your peels of joy ringing in the air like bells. Fire was your element, unlike your cousin, Moss, who was absolutely terrified of it, you couldn't really blame her though, after watching your family getting burned to a crisp, you would probably be terrified of it too. You could hear footsteps pounding towards you, the peace keepers most likely, come to find out whats up and why you were setting things aflame.
Turning on your heels, you sprinted off towards home, your strong legs carrying you quickly. As you burst through the door, your mother greeted you. "Where have you been?" you shrug, pulling out the lighter. Your mother shakes her head, sighing but saying nothing. She knew you liked playing with fire but didn't understand why. She had treated more of your burns than she could count and was getting sick of your obsession. You hurried up to your room and flopped down on your bed, tiredness creeping into your consciousness.
Feet pounding on the ground around you made you look over to see a sigjt that horrified you. Your cousin, Moss, lay on her back, the life ebbing away from her body and you tried to spring into action. Your feet stayed glued to the floor, making you unable to help and you watched as she cried out weakly for your help. You couldn't do anything, you could only watch the life slip away from her, bringing tears to your eyes. You couldn't lose your cousin, not like this, you wanted her to come home so that you could teach her not to be so afraid of fire.
You heard her voice, weakly as she struggled for air. "Ignea, I'm scared, I don't want to die yet" You finally found your feet working and you ran to her side, kneeling down beside your dying cousin and you took her hand, stroking it softly, trying to soothe her before she closed her eyes and you heard a canon fire.
Gasping, you blinked open your eyes, tears streaming down your face as you tried to calm your racing heart beat. she's still alive at least she was for now. How much longer she would be alive for, it was impossible to tell. For now, you had to be content watching her fight for her life on the screen inside the tiny building you called your home.
O hai dair
Ignea Rose is done
FC: Michelle Trachtenburg