#askxanthepyromancer

The two heroes of Lore sat before the Mad Weaponsmith and his...contraption. Rune peered towards the working mage in keen interest. Tannim on the other hand was lying on his back, waiting for something interesting to happen. Unlike those two, he didn't care for constructing such strange devices nor studying magic. However, he was also bored, "Hey, what's thing s'posed a be?"

"A phone booth!" Cysero cried ecstatically. The brunette raised a brow, "...An' what's that?"

"Not a clue!" the mage called with an equal amount of enthusiasm.A sigh escaped Tannim's mouth. He names it but doesn't know what it is? By now the warrior figured out it was one of those few quirks of Cysero. He shouldn't complain. Rather the eccentric but fun-loving Cysero than the strict even somewhat condescending Warlic. Tannim never could place if but something about the Blue Mage made the brunette wary of his presence.

"--sie. I don't think that should've happen," he heard. Sitting up, Tannim noticed his partner and the Mad Weaponsmith in the 'phone booth'. However the box was shaking with its top blinking on and off as if it were breathing. Then it was all white. Then he was falling.

Tannim opened his eyes…and honestly wished he didn’t. His senses seemed to whir to life and nearly overwhelm him. His gold-colored eyes cringed at the brightness in the distance. Brimstone and burning nearly made him gag. Ash threatened to choke his lungs. And everything felt warm--even by his standards.

Still slightly disoriented, he sat up and tried to focus his vision. As things aligned, Tannim had to suppress initial instinct to panic. Though he was on solid ground, he was also stuck in a cage-like prison. While that didn't rattle him, it was the fact that it was practically surrounded by magma that nearly robbed him of his rationality. The only path was one that led straight to the front of his cell.

you do have good taste. Guys with a bit of darkness in them are always more appealing *Xan cackles*

GRANDPA WHY

(alz'ein pauses and turns abruptly. the ateala had been able to keep the rose out, but xan could get in? her tone and stance turn defensive)How--(as she stares at him longer, a repulsive . . . attraction overwhelms her. she hasn't felt attraction in twelve years, she sure as hell wouldn't feel it, now)How did you get here?