inside the F I R E ||midhir||

[VIXEN ALDERON]

Fire was a temperamental element. It was prone to flaring up for seemingly no reason, burning through all its fuel in an instant, or slowing to the tiniest spark without any definite explanation. For thousands of years, man had been trying to learn how to control fire, but even after so long, it was still a known danger. Unpredictable.

As it turned out, it was unpredictable even to the one who embodied it. Vixen Alderon, the goddess of fire, still couldn’t always control her element. It had been particularly bad when she was very young, just after she and the other deities had taken on physical forms in the mortal world. She felt very strongly, all the time, and her emotions affected her use and control of her powers. When she’d first gotten to Earth, it’d been damn near impossible to keep her emotions and powers from getting out of hand. She’d blown a lot of simmering volcanoes in those days, and spent a lot of time working off excess energy on her island. She’d gotten better about it over the years, by necessity as well as choice, but one problem she’d never really had was a lack of energy. Fire was energy. Pure, unbridled energy, in the form of heat and light and life.

In her younger days, that had translated to physical energy. Bounding around like a mad thing, never sleeping except for when she finally dropped from exhaustion. Zero to sixty in three seconds flat and no noticeable stops along the way. She’d been that way for thousands of years, and though as far as she was concerned there was nothing wrong with that, she’d eventually matured into keeping a lot of that energy internal, allowing her to continue pushing herself to what limits she had without expending a lot of energy on such random physical activity.

But then, people had stopped believing in the gods. Despite what many people believed, the gods were not all-powerful. Far more powerful than any other beings on the planet, yes, but not infinitely so. They drew their power from the faith of the people who followed them; someone had explained it to Vixen a long time ago as it being almost like a healing. It was an investment of energy to believe in something or someone, or to pray to them. The energy of thousands of people doing just that was what gave the gods their magic. And for a very long time, that had been more than enough. Sure, it had fluctuated from time to time, particularly in times of great disasters, but for the most part it had remained the same.

Then, suddenly (or so it at least seemed), not enough people believed in the gods anymore to keep them going. They were dying, all of them, slowly fading away from a lack of faith in them. And for the first time in her life, Vixen felt tired. And it wasn’t just occasionally; it was all the time. She could feel the energy draining away from her, bit by agonizing bit. It was a terrible feeling, when she noticed it, and after several months of the slow drain, she was noticeably more irritable and less in control of her temper than she had been in a very long time.

Most people wouldn’t be stupid enough to pick a fight with an irritable goddess, particularly not one who still had stories told about the rare occasions when someone really managed to piss her off (Midhir had, back in his dickwad days, once provoked her into setting off the volcano that destroyed Pompeii, though not many people remembered that she’d been responsible for that). Her power might be waning, but she was still much stronger than most mortals, not that Vixen had ever been one to lord that fact over anyone. But then again, there were still people who picked fights with Midhir, and his reputation for killing people over small slights was much more infamous than Vixen’s temper.

Still, all things considered, Vixen was doing a remarkably good job of keeping a hold on her emotions. One particular mortal had decided it was his sworn duty to harass her as much as possible; this was not the first time she’d run into him, either. No, he seemed to have nothing better to do than track rumors of the goddess’ appearance and show up just to drive her mad with insults and taunts. After a week of having him show up at least once a day, Vixen’s patience was running thin.

She whirled on the man as he trailed behind her, making some lewd comment about her choice of clothing, and snapped irritably, ”I’ve tried to be nice about this, and I’m sick of it. Get. Out. Of. My. Face.” She turned and strode away.

”Or what?” came the sneer from behind her. Vixen ignored him, continuing on her way (a year ago, she would simply have teleported, but she’d used up most of her energy already and poofing herself back to her island at this point would probably result in her sleeping for a day or two). She didn’t hear footsteps coming after her at first, and dared to hope that that meant the asshole was finally going to leave her alone.

And then something slimy and mushy slapped into the back of her neck, dripping down inside her shirt. Vixen froze in place, the hurt and anger that had been building inside her abruptly reaching their snapping point. Sparks started to buzz through the air around her as she whirled on the man.

The next thing Vixen knew, there was a charred and smoking body at her feet, the echoes of agonized screams still ringing in her ears. She stared at the body for a long moment, uncomprehending. She didn’t kill people… she hadn’t in a very long time. It just wasn’t her way. Vixen’s stomach twisted itself into knots as she stared down at the corpse, her mind completely blank except for one single thought, running around in endless circles. ”What have I done…?”

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Tagged: Middy
Words: 1017 $$ added

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[midhir]

Midhir had always enjoyed being Death. Being a god had it's perks, for example, the immortal thing was pretty sweet. Not to mention he could basically do whatever the fuck he wanted without many consequences, for the exception of when Vixen delivered on her promise and threw him in a wormhole somewhere; to keep him out of the way for a few hundred years. It was a bit rude, if you asked him. Considering he had actually been trying not to be a majour ass lately. He had quit hanging out with his favourite child, Lucifer and her pet, Des altogether. He didn't mock Vasir [at least not physically] anymore, and in fact, had helped him out somewhat recently with fixing his eyes. He had been working on his temper, too. Not lashing out whenever someone, somewhere had something bad to say about him. And nobody challenged his rule or powers anymore, as the blue haired deity had been fairly certain that nobody was dumb enough to fuck with fucking Death; in the flesh. So with no one to challenge his rule, to challenge him or even someone, a generic pissant who just wanted to piss off a god. Midhir had been positive that there wasn't anyone else in the galaxy like that, with the exception of himself.

He had done all of this for Vixen, because apart of him still loved her. No, that wasn't right. There was absolutely no way he could deny to himself that he had probably always been in love with the Goddess of Fire, Vixen Alderon. She didn't like the way he was when he was destroying things, creating demigods, whose sole purpose was absolute destruction or just generally being an unnecessary asshole. And while he was a god, a creature that technically had no gender- Midhir was a man. And all men ended up changing for that one special person, the one that could stand to spend more than five seconds with him. Death had done a lot of dumb shit in his infinitive lifespan, but he wasn't about to let her get away again. So at her request, he had begun to clean up his act. He had almost quit killing people cold-turkey and hadn't really, honest-to-god lost his temper in awhile now. It was quite the drastic improvement, if you asked him.

But was it because of his own stupidity that this had all happened? Even after he had regained his powers again after crawling out of his own banishment the first time, it hadn't felt like it had only a few centuries before. Since then, it had been weakening. His grip on the mortals was beginning to weaken, the fear that they once had for him was almost vanished, as if overnight. Mortals nowadays feared this disease called cancer more than they feared the immortal Death, which lurked in every corner. Midhir had seen this coming way off, back when Vixen had been happy. Running around and getting into trouble with mortals. The way he preferred to remember her, as it had been that woman that had made him smile. For really, the first time ever. It was that woman that gave a slight sliver of humanity, a spark of life in the God of Death's stone heart. The blue haired deity had enjoyed his time in this galaxy with her, but he knew it all would eventually come to an end. And from what he could tell, it was finally almost here.

Mortal's faith in the gods was dancing on the line of practically being nonexistent. It was only a matter of time now. In a few decades, give or take, they would just.. Fade away. The Gods would cease to exist, as if they had never been there to begin with. Midhir wasn't sure how the idiotic mortals would thrive without them- it was the gods who had originally brought fire and life to the originally barren rock known as Earth. Sure, they had science now- which was a big reason why they were in the predicament they were currently in. But what Vixen and everyone else hadn't seen, even thousands of years previous to this, what Death had seen, was that it was all just a matter of time. Sooner or later, humanity would dump them the minute they didn't need them anymore.. Why was this? Why did he know that? Because he would have done the exact same thing, that's why. And nobody had believed him. He hadn't expected them too, but maybe if he hadn't been so preoccupied with redeeming himself and proving to them that he could be trusted in the first place; that they would have realized this sooner. Maybe this wouldn't have been such a majour issue as it was now. Maybe he could have bought some time for them.

He really hated to see Vixen so sad. Midhir knew that she hadn't been herself lately, due to the fact that she too, felt so drained. Maybe her more than anyone, as mortals were moving away from fire and gradually moved their way for electricity, which was still a relatively new invention nonetheless. Death would still be around- forever, just like Mira would. You couldn't have humanity without Life and Death, so they would be stuck here forever. But by the time all of the other deities were gone, their powers and willpower would be so drained that Midhir could guarantee that he would rather be off truly nonexistent. Plus, it wouldn't be much of a life without Vixen anyhow. She made things more interesting. But she wasn't herself anymore. She had always been a little.. Emotional. A little touchy. But when Midhir had felt a small tick, that small tick that let him know that a deity had murdered a mortal- he knew that she had probably snapped. But when he got to the scene of the crime, to check things out for himself, he found himself saddened. Seeing a horrified look on his lover's face told him that the snap hadn't been permanent. He frowned, standing across from her, the smoldering body separated them. "Vixen.." he had never known it to be in it for her to kill someone. "It's okay.." somehow, Midhir knew that wasn't going to help.

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words: 1052 $$ added
notes: =w=

[VIXEN ALDERON]

One would think that the Deity of fire would enjoy the smell of something burning, would enjoy the very act of setting something on fire. To some extent, that was true - Vixen loved the energy of fire, the color and heat and the way it was never the same for more than an instant. The way it was almost impossible to capture in a painting or even in words, because they were too flat to really embody the pure life energy that existed within every flame. A part of her even enjoyed the destruction it could wreak, but only for the fact that it often paved the way for regrowth and rebirth. Forest fires, for example, were healthy in the right doses. Even as it destroyed, it paved the way for new life.

There was none of that here. The acrid smell of burning flesh assaulted Vixen's nose, impossible to block out no matter how hard her horrified mind tried to. Standing right over the corpse, the smell was all-encompassing. Vixen felt like throwing up, even as she couldn't quite tear her eyes away from the sight at her feet. The charred and smoldering flesh of the first mortal she had killed since the eruption on Pompeii millennia ago. Dead because of her. Because she'd lost her temper.

Bile rose in the back of Vixen's throat. Fire was an element so strongly tied to life that seeing death had always made her sick to her stomach. It disturbed her on an intrinsic level. Which made it a little odd that she was in love with the god of death, but hey, Vixen had always been a bundle of contradictions.

Her relationship with Midhir had been going on for a long time. They'd been together for hundreds of years before she and the other gods had exiled him to another dimension to cool his heels for a while, and it hadn't taken long after he came back for them to get back together. It had been hard for Vixen to trust him again after what he'd done, though. He'd killed wantonly, for the hell of it, just to boost the number of souls giving him power. After he came back, however, he'd started to change his ways. At first, Vixen had been fairly sure he was motivated almost entirely by wanting to prevent a repeat of his previous exile, since that had been a far cry from pleasant. But then, maybe, he had started to do it for her sake. She still didn't know for sure, but she'd made the choice to trust him again. And if it was a mistake, well... She probably wasn't going to be alive much longer to regret it.

Vixen felt tears burning at the corners of her eyes as she finally managed to rip her gaze away from the burned body at her feet. She could feel the fear of the passersby, staring at her and whispering behind their hands, but oddly enough she didn't care. It seemed completely insignificant beside the dead body in front of her. Her stomach clenched again, a wave of nausea and self-disgust rolling over her.

A brief surge of power alerted her that one of the others had shown up. She didn't have to look up to know who it was; even if she wasn't as intimately familiar with the particular feeling of his power as she was, she'd just killed a man. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who would know about that so soon. Tears began to trickle down her cheeks as she looked at him.

She couldn't stand the way he was looking at her. Like a wild animal that could snap at any moment and attack. Like any sudden movement could set her off. His tone didn't do much to help the matter, low and soothing, like you would talk to an upset child. But Vixen choked down the irritation that rose inside her at the tone, wrapping her arms around herself tightly. "No, Middy," she said in a soft, choked voice, "It's not. It's not even close."

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Tagged: Middy
Words: 687 $$ added

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