Bottomed out Boxes (open)

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Centurion? Okay that was a first for him. Ronan didn’t know what possessed the powers at be to promote him to centurion, maybe they knew something that he didn’t know about himself. He had spoken to Mors in the graveyard the other day and he felt…. Better about things. It was as if a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. There had been a good deal of pain and hardness that he had carried within himself for so long that he didn’t know what it felt like to not be in pain. He had spent all day in the forge, trying to get things done, but it wasn’t for much. Ronan sat there at his desk, amongst the fire and the tools and scraps of metal that made him feel so at home. He was confused about this new power that he found himself with. He was in charge of training the fifth cohort. They had been so long without command and any of those who wished to be stronger, did so on their own. The fifth was home to many of those that hated the very idea of training. The Fifth Cohort, Home to the Greeks, Geeks and Freaks as it had been called many time.

So that’s what he was doing here, at the Principia. Now that Ronan was centurion, he had to make sure to get the ball off rolling right. He knew it had been a good long time since there was actually some leadership for this stupid cohort, but what he wasn’t looking forward to was that disastrous looking thing called the fifth cohort file boxes. A couple years ago he had heard from the centurion when he was much younger about how horrible the boxes had become and there was no order and organization to them. Of course that particular Centurion was a lazy Bacchus kid, so it was most likely that it didn’t get done. But here he was, standing in front of the Fifth Cohort File Room. Ronan took the door knob in his hand, the metal feeling cool to his naturally high body temperature, and gave it a turn. The lock clicked and he could instantly smell the dust and must from all of the years that the particular room had been locked up. Ronan put a hand to his mouth as he waved the dust in front of his face away. The room wasn’t lit and if the near inch of dust on the window of the door was any indication, he could only guess what was in store for him.

Ronan looked up and he clicked on the light. A lone bulb showed the state of disrepair that the file room was in. The boxes were dilapidated and files were strewn all about the place. Ronan sighed as he pulled a chair out from under a lone table and he picked up a box where various files were sticking out, some of them looked new-er and the others looked so old that they probably weren’t from this particular century. He emptied out the file box, which was easy considering the moment he picked the darned box up, the bottom of it fell out. He let out a small sigh of frustration as he dusted off the table before he then swiped a few spiders off of the desk. He placed the files in stacks by their years before he moved on to another box, then he had a thought for a brief moment, he ran back to the forge to grab a broom and some polish and a rag. The floor quickly got moped and the desk and chair were polished, soon the critters that had made the fifth cohort file room their home were making a mass exodus from the door. He kept it open, he didn’t want to be stuffed in that musty room with no way to breathe, but it was nice to have a little bit of fresh air.

Ronan continued his work, making his way through boxes and boxes, piling up files and then after he had gotten finished with sorting them by year, he then started to sort them by their godly parent and then once again alphabetically. Then he went in search of some new boxes. He passed by a clock in the principia, glancing up at it he swore to himself. It was nearly midnight. He let out a small sigh, he couldn’t believe that he had been at this for nearly six hours. Dinner had even came and went, despite the fact that Ronan didn’t bother to eat dinner most days that he spent a good bit of time in the forge. With Edmund gone and the new responsibility, he could only imagine that the work orders were piling up rather quickly. No, he had to do Cohort things before he thought about taking care of things other than his personal favorite things to do. That was the important part. After retrieving a few boxes, Ronan went back to work in the file room. Soon, he felt himself nodding off, his head drooping on the newly cleaned and polished table where he was working.

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It seemed like there was a lot of people settling into new jobs recently. Tessa Yates as Head of the Infirmary, Jason Kyoto as Praetor, and Ronan Redpath as Centurion of Fifth Cohort. That last one was a little bothersome, possibly because the entire fifth cohort was a little bothersome. Now while the young legacy of Venus normally looked down on judging others based on cohort or lineage, she had to admit they had poor leadership most of the time. She had worked with Ronnan in the forge once or twice, and he helped her figure out what she was doing wrong with her metal working. Which she had been very, very wrong. No wonder everything she made broke, except those small metal scales she had started using in sewing and making small cute things. This was not something she really needed to master like sewing though, putting the scales on or making a chain of them was easy.

As head of the Infirmary she made it her personal job to make sure those idiot Praetors got their sleep. She was of course nice about it, as nice as possible. She never spoke to them telling them to get sleep after all, and that might actually work pretty well. Instead she made tea, and checked up on them. Every night. Did she have better things to do? Better than making sure the people in charge of the entire legion were getting rest so they could maintain their correct mind? Nope. Not a thing better. That was why she was in the Principia that evening. She preferred to work infirmary shifts at night anyway, she trained hard during the day. Edmund had left on his quest, so again she had attempted to take it upon herself to clean up the forge before her shift work. Her schedule had been terribly hectic when she first started, and arguable was still. Tessa was near throwing her schedule out the window and not caring anymore. Probably one or two more nights without sleep. That was after all the main reason she kept a planner, to keep track of everything she did and a lot the correct time to maintain if not better herself.

Oh her schedule, that was another long story. It was a complete mess, crossed out and added in pieces and parts all over the place. Rearranging it several times a day. Time for archery, sword fighting, forging, sewing, paperwork, training new people, Gunnar. Okay so perhaps it wasn't so much trying to find place to put time with him as much as wishing she could shove everything into a garbage disposal and simply sit with him all day and night. Talking, listening, learning. She liked it very much.

A light shown through a thick cloud of dust that still hovered in the hallway. A cough escaped her delicate lips as she wondered what had happened. The room itself was not one she had seen anyone enter or leave in her time at the legion. Even with her more recent and now somewhat frequent trips to the Praetors offices. Originally to make sure Remus had tea, and now for both Praetors. Peering into the light room she could see what looked like a freshly cleaned room. The dirt still hovering in the air, and huddled in certain places most never look, were what lead her to believe it had been recently polished. There amidst the piles of papers and boxes lay the large, blond newly appointed centurion. Tessa's eyes trailed down the hall. She was fairly sure the boys would be glad to have a bit more time before she went hassling them about sleep again. Creeping softly into the room she took a good look around, it smelled of old musk and cleaning product. Walking near soundlessly to the males side she put a gentle hand on his shoulder to wake him. He should go to sleep in his bunk, this would certainly be waiting for him later.

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Ronan had barely been asleep when he had begun to dream. It was warm, soft. A memory maybe? Ronan didn’t know. He knew that he was warm and in such a place where he felt weightless, uplifted. His body had been engulfed in flames, an accident maybe? No, there was no pain, no agony. Just the warm feeling that his body was cared for, gently caressed by the fingers of the flames. He looked down, his whole body was covered them. He walked through them, feeling no pain. A hand from above, it reached down, gently taking his own hand, leading him through a tunnel of flames. Ronan reached his hand to feel his way through the darkness that was starting to stain the flames. They were black, scorching pain and tearing at his body. His heart beat quickened as there was a rain of bricks. Ronan tried to run. His feet were sluggish and it was like he was running against the current of a fast moving river. The hands of black flames pulling at his clothes as he tried to run. Slowly he was sinking into the flames. He flailed, trying to fight his way out of the black flames. His heart beat was slamming against his chest as he felt his body convulsing, his heat rising as he felt the tingling sensation across his entire body, He shouted in pain, screaming in agony. Suddenly his body erupted into black flames, his skin scorched by the darkness.

Ronan shot his head strait up, feeling the familiar sense of the flames licking at his body. There was a touch on his shoulder and the flames from the erupted lighter in his back pocket flew to his hands. Quickly, he spun on the balls of his feet, knocking the chair out from under him as his fire free hand grabbed at the neck of whomever had the bad timing of touching his shoulder. His eyes were wild as he towered over the smaller woman in front of him. His eyes blinked, not seeing who she was exactly until the hand of fire was less than a centimeter or so from her face. Ronan took in a sharp slow breath as the fire went out. He only just realized that his grip was tight enough to kill. He let go, falling to his knees as the back of his pants were smoldering. Ronan dropped to his knees on the ground. Exhausted and feeling as if he had been run over by a bus. Tessa. That’s who it was. “I’m sorry.” He muttered, the smell of char and smoke was something that he couldn’t get over. It was just like that night again. The explosion. Ronan knew that it was truly his fault, but there was still that overwhelming feeling of guilt and helplessness. He never wanted to feel that way again. He didn’t want to hurt her, no he never wished to hurt someone as nice as her.

“I’m… I’m sorry.” He muttered once more as he tried to stand, clutching at the fallen chair and the table. He collected up the strewn about papers that he had knocked over. He hastily stuffed them in the correct box before turning back to Tessa. “I’m sorry, can I do something, anything to help you?” Ronan pleaded, trying to find some way to correct his mistake. He looked at her with a pleading look, trying to find a way to do right by her. He offered her a chair, at least trying to be a better man than he was currently being. No, this was a disgrace to being a centurion. He should resign for such disgraceful behavior. “I really and truly apologize.”

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He was warm to the touch, sure he was normally warm but he seemed to heat up even more. It was more than noticeable to her, and she was worried. He could have a temperature from fever, or perhaps it had to do with his powers. She hoped power, but would certainly drag him to the infirmary to make sure. She was not even able to complete her thoughts when he awoke. She stepped back, or at least tried to. Her reflexes nearly got her out of the way, but his arms were far longer than what she was used to. His grip tightened around her neck, and she was caught, her hands strained against his wrist. She tried to pull him away, tried to twist his wrist away from her. It hurt, she couldn't breath. Her chest burned, and neck felt as if it was being crushed. Clenching her teeth she kept trying to pull away, hoped he would wake up her nails digging into his arm before she was finally released.

Her body collapsed on the ground as she coughed, desperately trying to take air into her lung again. She was glad his hand grip was not tight enough to cut off blood circulation, that would have taken seconds to kill her instead of the minutes suffocation took. She choked back vomit that begged to make her feel better, but she was still in the Principia. Her eyes were watering as she forced oxygen into her chest, pulling her shoulders back and raising her arms above her head, even as she wanted to continue to sit bent over on the ground. He apologized, and she smiled. No harm, no real harm anyway. When she got her breath all the way back she went for her notebook, that was four times now he had apologized to her. It wasn't needed, just the one. 'Are you okay?' Yeah, that was the first thing she was worried about. The other person. He looked so down, and still smelled of burnt clothing. She smiled tenderly at him 'I'm fine, no real harm.'

Putting her hands on either of his shoulders and patted him hoping to encourage him just a bit. 'I'm fine, see?' she still had red marks on her neck, but she smiled earnestly at him. 'You're more than forgiven, though I don't see any reason for you to be apologizing so much. You're okay though right? I know you're fire resistant, but that doesn't mean immune to it. No burns?'

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Ronan was feverish, his skin was tinged with pink and was even warmer than usual to the touch. The days had started to become long and harsh, long mostly. He hadn’t had much of a break but once when he had ran into Julia in New Rome. That was fun. He finally had some fun. Ronan still had long days when he worked for hours and hours in the forge then starting to do on his own training. He had to be strong to make sure he stay in control. HE couldn’t believe that he lost control like that over a stupid nightmare. HE should have been used to them by now, but he wasn’t. The pain was still just as fresh as it had been all those years ago. HE didn’t know what the black fire was, but it hurt. He had never been in so much pain before this. At least she was okay, he didn’t want to do any lasting damage on her because he had acted like a panicked and crazed beast of fire. He wiped the sleep crusties (eye boogers?) before he looked up at her from his position on the floor. “I really apologize, there should be more control in a centurion.” He stated as he picked himself up. He watched her to gage if she was truly alright. Maybe he should take her to the infirmary, who cares if she’s the head of the infirmary, he knew that he hurt her to a degree. Even if it was just a couple of red marks on the neck, those were his fingers.

HE slowly took in a few breaths as he then sat down uneasy in the chair. He used his boots to brace himself to keep from falling over. “Some times expending so much energy makes me dizzy. It just takes a moment…” He explained. He motioned for her to take a seat in the empty yet freshly polished chair. He really had done some work trying to get this place in order. “When I first got here it was like this place hadn’t been touched for centuries.” Ronan tried to make light of the situation. The room was pretty small and disgusting compared to the first, second and third cohorts. Ronan’s passiveness was what got him into the fifth cohort. He didn’t care, he preferred to do things on his own time anyways. Now he was in a bit of power and he had to get this god forsaken cohort into shape. He would need some help making a schedule that he would enforce and start to knock some heads in. He wasn’t going to pull a Jolly and do a forty-eight hour drill. No he would start smaller and work his cohort up. “No burns, I’m fire resistant too. It’s alright.” He said, looking around for a couple of bottles of water that he thought that he had brought along with him. He was starting to feel light headed. He placed an arm on the desk to steady himself, trying to keep from teetering over. Ronan looked around, trying to see where he had put them. “Have you seen….”

Ronan tried to stand up, teetering before he hit the ground. The ground shuttered and the table and chairs rattled. Ronan groaned as he rolled over, trying to pick himself up. “Ugh, I can’t find my water bottles.” HE struggled to pick himself up and crawl back into the chair. He gave out a shaky breath as he continued to look around for his water bottle. Something, anything to drink would be great save for alcohol. Alcohol was flammable and with his current temperature there was no telling if he was going to have another flare up. With the hot weather it was a bad combination. Yes he was much stronger with his fire manipulation in the summer, but it was also much easier for him to get out of hand and lose control. “So, what brings you up here this late at night?” He asked, breathless.

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'Don't beat yourself up over it, you're asked for forgiveness and it's been given. Was it a bad dream?' Watching him carefully she wanted to make sure he was alright, his temperature was already higher than usual. He didn't exactly look the steadiest either, his skin was still flushed and from the dilation of his eyes he might be a bit dehydrated or he could be in a stage of heat exhaustion. That last one would have been serious, but at least it wouldn't be heat stroke, the type that would kill someone. That happened when your skin was dry to the touch, because there was nothing left for you to sweat out. Yeah, you were in major trouble at that point. 'Dizzy? That's not good, do you have any water here with you?' it was the simplest way she knew of to get rid of dizziness. Often around this time of year, and especially with what she was witnessing in him, dehydration was the cause. Possibly a bit of stress, since he seemed to still be a bit hung up on the incident a few minutes ago.

She didn't sit when he gestured for her to, she stayed near him. Looking him over it looked like he was right about the lack of burns. Nothing stood out against his already warm looking skin. She glanced around, not really liking the idea of leaving him here alone to get him water. Hopefully he would have brought some with him, considering he had planned to be in what was once a terribly dusty room for multiple hours in the middle of the summer. He leaned over the desk, and she stepped forward to put a hand on his shoulder again. He was so warm, she pulled her hand back. This wasn't good. With his body at that temperature he was surly dehydrating at a rapid pace, and would more than likely be moving through e stages of heat illness. First would have been cramps, then exhaustion, then stroke. She was not about to allow that to happen. Looking around again she found a few full bottles of water. He had planned ahead, at least she hoped he had been the one to put them there instead of it being several centuries old, as he had put it.

From the corner of her eye she saw him stand up, or at least attempt to before plummeting to the ground. She moved quickly, not able to catch him but able to try and keep his head from hitting the ground. She frowned at him as she struggled to get himself back up into the chair. 'Stop for a moment, lean back and just relax. Take your shirt off.' she wrote before putting her notebook on the table and went to grab the bottles of water she had spotted earlier. They looked like they had rolled away and were up against the walls and the cabinets. Uncapping one on her way over she then handed it to him before setting the rest on the table. Moving the chair closer to him she took that seat he had offered her earlier. Still watching him carefully to make sure he wasn't going to pass out. At any point in medical treatment, a person falling unconscious was not a good sign. Generally it was to be considered a life or death situation immediately.

'Making sure idiots in charge aren't working themselves sick.' she said, including Ronan in that statement in her own mind. Jason, Remus, and now Ronan. All people she might have to watch out for. She should probably do the same for Edmund when he returned from that quest, not that he was in charge, but he was an idiot who didn't take care of himself. Four out of Four of those people were guys. Interesting how that turned out, she started thinking about what females she had problems with. Certainly not as high a number as the males who refused to come to the infirmary. 'What did you eat earlier? When was the last time you ate?' she questioned, depending on his answer she might just drag him tot he infirmary for a midnight snack and some more force feed water. Not to mention that disgusting hydration packet they had, wonderful for keeping a person hydrated. The taste on the other hand made people gag sometimes. Sometimes that had the opposite effect of what was necessary. Of course it was probably better of him to not be moving around at the moment, though getting outside in the somewhat cool night air might be good for him at the same time. He was starting to warm the room up, if that flash fire hadn't been enough to do so earlier.

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Ronan nodded in response to Tessa's question. “yes, a nightmare, another one.” He shook his head as he tried to rid himself of the feeling of unease. He really hated how he felt after a nightmare. There had been a time or two when he had even caused the forge fire to flare up and melt a few peoples projects. He hated that, he hated feeling so vulnerable. Summer was usualy one of the worst times for him. His already high body tempreature coupled with the heat and humidity was enough to make anyone pass out from heat stroke or even die from it. It also probably didn't help that he worked in the overly hot forge as he physically exhausted his energy day in and out, week after week. At least she didn't hate him for his reflexes. She forgave him, which eased his mind a little. While he normally didn't care about other people, well it was a lie, he really did care. But the care that he had was that he didn't want to hurt those around him. Not like he just did, he felt bad that with all of his strength and power, it only seemed to get him in trouble.

HE had reached for something, but a gentle hand kept him from doing so. Tessa drew her hand back, Ronan figured she was surprised from the bit of heat that his body put off. Sometimes he hated it. Any other person with a temperature like this would have been hauled off to make sure their insides hadn’t turned into soup. After hitting the floor, he was able to climb back up and follow Tessa's orders of staying still and not moving. Wait, she wanted him to take his shirt off? He blinked. It was a strange question coming from a girl that had never really talked to him before. Wait, then he put another piece of thought into it, she was a nurse and head of the infirmary. She probably wanted to check his vitals to make sure that he was truly alright. Ronan nodded, removing his shirt in compliance. As she returned with some of the water bottles he had knocked askew, he took the one closest to him and started to drink until the bottle was crushed from the suction and pressure of him pulling the water into his stomach. After that bottle of water he moved on to the next one, again pulling the water into his stomach with powerful suction, again crushing the plastic bottle with ease.

“Keeping an eye on idiots huh? Guess that means me too.” He said sheepishly. He was feeling better, that much was true, but his face still felt flushed and it felt like the room was just getting hotter with each passing moment. That wasn't good. Especaily in a place like this with someone so close, no he couldn't let things get out of hand. He didn't want to make things worse than they already are. “Eating?” he questioned outloud. He wasn't sure, he really didn't know. When was the last time he ate something? “I don't know, don't remember, yesterday lunch time I think?” Food was just a distraction that got in the way of his work. He had to work, it was something to keep his mind off of things that tended to make him jumpy and antsy. “If you could... would you mind helping me outside?” Again he felt the air grow a tad bit warmer. HE didn't want to have a flare up and incinerate Tessa or the paperwork that he had just worked so hard on. He stood up and started to make his way to the door, a hand keeping him steady on his feet. If tessa wanted to come that was great, but he wouldn't be enclosed in a place like this to go kaboom.

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More people with nightmares, Tessa might just start a tea business at this rate. She'd make the same thing that seemed to work for Edmund. Something that should cause the person to have a more restful sleep though it had a tenancy to stop you from dreaming. That was the purpose of the tea she had made at any rate. Then there was the one she made for Remus that should have lulled him to a gentle sleep. Not as strong as Edmund’s, since he didn't seem to need the same type of help, just something to relax his nerves. A tea shop of some sort would be interesting to have after the legion. It was interesting how she was actually thinking about an after now. For the most part she lived in the present, ten years of service seemed like a life time when you first started. It was going by so quickly though, she was almost in her eighth year as a legionnaire. What was she going to do with her life after? She wanted to know, wanted a plan. That's how she had been living most of her life, write everything out into the perfect plan and do your best to stick to it. Then Gunnar came into her life and everything seemed to fall every so slightly out of place.

Tessa didn't even fit into a specified schedule any more. It started slowly with only a few hours of her time here and there going on some adventure with Gunnar, then she became head of the Infirmary and all hell broke loose. Her time was hardly hers anymore, if it ever really was. She had always spent time training, in some way shape or form every bit of her time was spent training. Now it seemed like anything she did outside of Cohort Training and the Infirmary was extremely precious to her. It was a new feeling, to truly enjoy what she did and want more time to do them because of that. Instead of trying to be the perfect legionnaire, though she still desired that greatly. It once was the time she spent in the forge was another thing to help her as a warrior, now it was something she truly wanted to do. The same could be said for sewing, and of course what she found most pleasure in was being with Gunnar.

Emerald green eyes carefully analyzed the large, in both height and muscle, man as he inhaled the water. 'Don't drink it so quickly, you can make yourself sick' Her words weren't even written out fully when he had made his way to the last bottle. Oh well. She sighed and flipped the page over whether he had read it or not, the point was no longer valid anymore. A nod of her head was his main answer to the question about him being included. 'Praetor Remus, Jason, and now you. I'll have to keep an eye on all of you.' she was fairly determined to keep them healthy. Though she cared about everyone in the legion, those in charge needed to pay extra close attention to their well being. You had to be able to think correctly, and clearly in order to be fully in control of anyone.

A look of shock, and perhaps slight disappointment in his eating habits came across her soft features. 'Not just outside, you're going to the infirmary.' the look on her face showed that she didn't care if she had to put all of her power into dragging his large behind to the infirmary, he was going. There was no question in that look on her face, though it showed the hint of worry that hadn't left the moment he collapsed on the floor. Her feet touched the floor as she rocked forward in the chair, picking herself up and scooting it back into place at the table. Shoving her notebook back into her pocket she extend a hand to Ronan, with a soft smile on her lips, offering to help him up.

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Sometimes Ronan really wondered what life would have been like if he wasn't cursed as such. Other people were much luckier than he was. They didn't constantly have to worry about all of the rules that he had to live by. Most of the rules were self imposed, but they were there for a reason. Everything had a price to be paid. He didn't know what he did in a past life to deserve a curse of fire. Others wouldn't call it a curse, they would say it was a gift. To a degree, it could be a so called gift. If only there was someone to show him how to use his power of fire, so he could actually do something good with it. He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes didn't focus on anything in particular. There was a good bit of what was on his mind, but nothing that made actual sense. It was just a lot of bits and pieces, things that didn't quite fit together. It was almost as if he had a bunch of puzzle pieces for ten different boxes and was trying to make a whole picture. It wasn't about to end well at any rate. He probably had already out lived his life expectancy as a demi-god, it wouldn't surprise him if something ungodly was lurking in the shadows, whether figuratively or literally, to end his life. He hadn't thought of what he would do after the legion. He would probably become a tinker or something, maybe pair up with someone who could sell his wares. He preferred to work with the precious metals and gemstones, making delicatec works of art. Someone suggested that he should become a jewler or something. He didn't make things to be sold, he really just made things so other people could be happy. If there was someone who could benefit from something he made or enjoied something he put together, then it was all the better. He thought about the tree he was putting together for Jadis. A lion sized climbing tree. It would be rather interesting to see when he got done. It took a while to get all of the elk horn to make it, but someone in new rome had a relative who was living in the wilds. Maybe it would be safer for Ronan to live out away from civilization or people that he could hurt.

He had only half glanced at the sign that she had scrawled. Maybe he could make her a dry erase board or something if she wasn't going to talk. But she seems to like using the notebook. “Someone take care of me?” He blinked, balking at the thought on the inside. He never had anyone that he could depend on. That was something that he never gave a second thought at. It was made rather clear early in life that he would have to be on his own. He watched her face grow a look of shock as his eating habits were mentioned. Eating was an inconvenience, it took up extra time that could be used doing other things. Stuff useful, not spending idle time chatting and gossiping like some kind of Venus spawn at a day spa. He shook his head. “You have better things to do and more important things to do than to look after me.” He grunted as he started to feel this nagging and irritating pulling sensation in his stomach. Damn it, he though as he looked around.

Ronan moved quickly through the principia, he had a mission in mind and it was on a rather tight time constraint. He could feel it, with his heart pounding hard and the sweat dripping down his face, he only had a few matter of seconds before.... well before it was going to happen once more. The last time this had occurred, he was alone, in the forge. There was no harm done, no one else had gotten hurt. Again he stumbled, there wasn't much time left for that... he had to hurry. His feet moved like lead as he shoved the doors open. Sweat poured down his face as he wiped his brow to keep the stinging water from blinding him. There was only one reason for him to sweat like this. The nightmare had been bad, worse then it had been in such a long time. He thought he had gotten past it, that these episodes were over. No, it would seem that his father saw fit to curse him even more. Ronan set his jaw as he felt Tessa's hand to help him stay on his feet. He knew he was going to regret this later but he had to do it, she needed to be safe. He couldn't let her be in danger just because of his own stupidity. Ronan turned on his heels and shoved Tessa aside as he threw himself onto the cobblestone pathway about ten feet away. He could feel the intense prickeling sensation as if he was being stabbed by thousands of needles at once. Instantly it was like a dam breaking loose. All of the power and heat ignited, his entire body encased in flames as he stood there, motionless as they licked at his body. The sudden surge of power was enough to make his body visible from space, or at least that's what he felt like. It burned brightly and the hot summer air became much more hot. Damned this all to hell, Ronan thought as he looked skyward. There was nothing to do now but wait for the flames to subside. So there he stood, the flames licking at his body. For a brief moment, he looked to see if Tessa was alright, he really hoped he didn't hurt her and was able to get her away from the flames fast enough, it was his singular last thought before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and his knees buckled.

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A swift nod of her head, and that was his reply. Certainly he needed someone to look after him, he'd already proven he needed the help, not eating. For shame. Even the body needed energy to keep going, like machines did. She was no expert and she wasn't about to make a fool of herself and pretend she was, but everything needed energy. Not to mention how did he get to such a hulking size when he skipped meals that way? It was near enough to bother her, though of course it didn't. It took quite a bit to truly make Tessa angry, but she was bothered by his lack of sleep or food, and what looked to be water. Such a fool. She helped him up when he went to suddenly stand, and quickly trailed after him as he started walking though the building. She had to start a jog just to keep up with him, his legs far longer than her own. He stumbled again, and she was there. Her hands on his arm, looking fairly worried at the amount of sweat coming off him, and the ever increasing temperature. She didn't have a moment to think about that though, she was thrown off of him.

She was small and light, and for a man used to swinging a hammer Tessa was nothing. No doubt he hadn't meant to hurt her, no doubt he hadn't meant for her to hit the column, but she did. Colliding hard with the stone cylinder, her head bashing hard against it as the air was knocked from her. She fell to the ground as bright flames erupted from Ronan. Tears stung her eyes and dripped down her face, the heat coming off of him licked at her skin as it turned red. She pushed herself up slightly crawling behind the stone structure, before collapsing again. Her mind swimming, throbbing, and vision distorted. Thinking hurt, but she tried. Day, time, where exactly was she? She thought, and came up with answers, but thought no. That couldn't be right. She thought again, the cold stone felt good on her skin, but it stung and itched. What was wrong with her skin? She couldn't think. What was wrong with her head? She knew there were words, but she simply couldn't find them at the moment. The bright light died down and she forced herself up. Wobbling, stumbling she forced herself up. Almost all of her weight on the column in front of her. She moved slowly around it, making herself dizzy in the few steps she took to get where she could see the person again. He had fallen to the ground, she had to help.

Stumbling forward, Tessa decided it might just be best to crawl on her hands and knees. She got closer and skidded back letting out a soft cry as her skin came in contact with the stones near him. They were hot, she hadn't even made it very close to him yet. The redness from her hands before were still there, throbbing and stinging. It was all over one side, the redness. Burn. First degree. She finally came to the though, what had taken her so long? She looked up into the sky a moment and pushed herself to her feet. If she couldn't touch the ground with her hands she could still use her legs. Her shoes would help, but even as she got closer the air was warmer. Her burns hurt and she wanted nothing more than to put ice on them. Getting closer to Ronan she saw him breathing, that was good. Unconscious was not though. That was never good. Leaning over him slightly a droplet of red fell onto him. She looked at it strangely a moment, then another. Patting the side of her head she took her moist hand away. There was blood.