[The Spinning Coin] Fuel, Fire, Desire

by **Razkar** on July 10th, 2013, 11:36 am

Never underestimate the power of ego.

Razkar was in no frame to think that, but when he heard Kreig's jeering, booming voice above the hubbub and thundering in his own ears, he became a living example of it. He knew from experience how one acted alone, and when the only audience to your failure was yourself... well, it wasn't easy, but it was easier than failing in front of others, even strangers.

And certainly Kreig petching Messer.

Oh, I don't fucking think so!

Turak came on in one solid mass, arms spread wide, wanting to keep Razkar pinned on the wall, removing his ability to maneuver, dodge, evade-

-one knee slamming up towards the Myrian as his guard stayed up-

-only for Razkar's forearms to jerk down and block the blow, using the momentum to knock him away, to the side-

-just before an elbow the size of his skull smashed into the wire where he'd been standing-

-and Razkar hammered one, two, three lightning jabs into the Akalak's ribs, the last one making the huge man grunt with pain, swinging out with a backhand-

-Razkar ducking under it and then straightening again as a kick was swung at his head, backing up, and up, and up-

Turak roared along with the crowd and came on again.

Ticks. Mere ticks was all he had and his mind whirred like a hummingbird during that time. He wasn't going to outlast this big bastard, he knew that much, and working the body of an Akalak was like trying to chop down a tree with your hands. He'd have to get smart, and fast... and nasty.

Well, no problems there, then.

He lunged just as the Akalak wound up for another shattering round, and found out the hard way that Turak had been watching him during those long weeks aboard the Cuttlefish, too. Razkar leveled a right cross, a hook, slid to his side and tried a kick-

-first parried, second block-

-third caught-

"Ah, fu-"

With a roar like a charging Tskanna the Akalak snapped his other hand around the Myrian's ankle and twisted his body, swinging, pulling-

-heaving the Myrian off his feet by his leg and hurling him against the wall of the cage like a sack of protesting potatoes.

You don't land "well" in that situation, despite what the stories tell you. You just try to avoid getting crippled. Razkar put up his hands to avoid his face being slashed to ribbons and the impact was a strange, denting smash, painful but the wire bowing, bending-

-not breaking, and a tick later he hit the boards in a cloud of sawdust.

Braggart...

Razkar actually managed a tiny smile, even as his ribs creaked and he hauled himself up to his feet. Turak could have smashed his knee, grabbed his throat, pounded his body, a dozen different things... but he was playing to the crowd. Giving them a show. Feeding their lust and his ego, both.

He still doesn't think this is serious.

Turak chuckled and he watched the Myrian shakily rise, purple hands still in the air, taking in the adulation of his crowd... then saw the savage spit out a crimson gob into the sawdust. He smirked and cracked his shoulders, satisfied that his knee was starting to numb up, even if his ribs still ached.

"Getting tired, little man?"

Razkar rose and inhaled... cursed his bruised ribs... and then shrugged.

"Just getting wind, old man."

Turak's face darkened but before the banter could continue, Razkar was rushing towards him, desperate plan cobbled together, crowd shaking the wire with their approval

This is gonna hurt.

by **Kreig Messer** on July 10th, 2013, 5:09 pm

'That's right Raz, don't let the giant blue...or is it purple? Ah who cares, just don't let him get off easily ye bastard' He grinned, the words didn't need to be said....

The Akalak tried to close in with arms spread apart, trying to to prevent the Myrian from fleeing his position. A knee rose to strike at him, but Raz blocked it with his forearms and quickly moved out of the way of an incoming elbow strike that hit the cage behind him. Kreig grin as while he couldn't quite see the three strikes Razkar performed, he could see the pained look on the Akalak.

'Atta boy, you gave me a tumble I wouldn't forget... no reason not to give this gent one as well' When the the Akalak roared in conjunction with the crowd , Kreig instead howled with laughter like a mad jackal and returned his gaze to see what would happen next. The Akalak was closing in, damaged but far from being bothered by it. Raz tried a series of strikes but found a kick caught by the Akalak who lifted him and slammed him to the cage.

He couldn't tell what Raz was thinking right now, but the Akalak was obviously enjoying the attention he was getting from the crowd 'I must admit it can be quite intoxicating' But Kreig cared far more for the fight than the cheers of strangers, especially since they only gave a damn about things they wouldn't dare try themselves and filling their purses.

Raz got up, slowly but surely and then it struck Kreig that this was, while petching more entertaining...was like a certain fight between a large and small fighter and he found himmself howling in laughter.... Especially since seemd RAZ was getting in on the banter 'HAH, I think he's starting to see the value of it' And he was about to see more of the loving chaos as Raz charged at the Akalak, who seemed to take offense by what the Myrian said.

x

by **Razkar** on July 12th, 2013, 11:32 am

When you were facing someone Turak's size, no matter who won the fight, you were taking a beating. Razkar didn't think that even Ximal, the most superlative empty-handed fighter he had ever seen, would escape without a lump or three.

Once the Myrian had resigned himself to that, and accepted it, the rest was easier. In a way.

He knew Turak wasn't expecting him to take the offensive, get in his face, toe-to-toe, so that's just what he did... for a moment, anyway. The Akalak kept it cagey, though, guard up and balance good as Razkar closed the gap fast, jabbing up with his right-

-easily blocked-

-following with an uppercut with his left, aiming for the ribs, bending his knees-

-another forearm blocked it-

-and Razkar exploded upwards, top of his head jutting diagonally forwards towards the Akalak's chin-

-but Turak was no fool, and no lumbering ox, either. As the crowd "oooh-ed" and "ahhh-ed" he jerked his head back, avoiding the head, his own knee jutting out and slamming into the Myrian's chest, lifting him off his feet-

-feels like something exploded in my chest, fuck... focus, focus... you're close, use it-

-and even as the air exploded from his lungs, Razkar wrapped his left arm around the Akalak's leg at the knee, leaving him standing on just the one. His gaze flashed up and saw the surprise in Turak's eyes, the growing amber of concern-

Don't give him a chance!

-just as his own right fist slammed into the raised thigh of the Akalak, once, twice, three times, every blow that of a hammer, making the Akalak wince, then snarl, then yelp-

-crowd howling with every blow, even when the big bastard threw a short elbow at the Myrian's face-

-Razkar gritted his teeth hard as his head snapped back, vision stars and shadows again, blood flying from between clenched teeth.

You knew this would be the price, and that you'd pay it, so get your money's worth!

-but still driving forwards, pushing Turak backwards, easier now as he grimly kept hold of the captive leg and Turak was almost under his control. He tucked his head low as a storm of blows hammered into his back, every one feeling like a nightmare writ large on his skin, organs jumbled, bones bruised-

Until he gave a hoarse cry and slammed the Akalak against the wire mesh, finally letting go of the leg, nearly doubled over and relishing the cry Turak gave as his numbed, bruised, battered limb hit the sawdust-

-throwing left and rights into the Akalak's stomach like he was hitting a punching bag, arms blurring, hardened fists mashing that toned gut-

-right foot crunching down on the Akalak's left toes-

Not much time left. Now!

Turak grunted with surprise as two tanned arms shot up from under him, gripping the side of his neck, and he made the mistake of looking down-

-just as Razkar straightened his legs again, rocketing upwards with the top of his head aimed at his face, only now there was no 'backwards' for him to lean-

The crowd howled and hooted like the savages they despised, and if his head wasn't so rattled on its supports, Razkar might have enjoyed the irony. As if was, he just felt the jarring vibration as his head hit solid bone, top of it feeling like an egg hit with a spoon, anchored by his hands and then letting go-

Job done, back off!

-then spinning away to his right as Turak bellowed like a pregnant Tskanna and he knew retaliation was finally coming, colored arms jutting out but finding nothing, bloody-faced Myrian dancing away, spinning, spinning-

Razkar finally managed to stop himself a good six feet away, hands up, panting, blood trickling down his jaw. His back felt as if it was on fire, ribs groaning with every breath, spine jangled... and his head... Goddess...

"Still... Still having... fun...?"

Turak spat... and this time it was his blood that marred the floor of the Spinning Coin. Razkar smiled like a shark.

See? He's not invulnerable. He's mortal, he bleeds, he tires, he's fallible, and if you keep at him like this, he'll go down.

Yes, Razkar agreed internally, but voiced the obvious point: and how long will I last before I go down, hmm?

As if giving voice to his concern, Turak's customary grin vanished and his lips became a grin, focused line slashed onto his face and ugly with blood. He wiped it away and started to move forwards, tread careful now.

Business. He was no longer playing a game; he was removing a problem. But he came slowly, that much Razkar did notice: he was limping heavily, thigh battered, knee bruised, toes perhaps even broken...

But seven-feet of muscle is still seven-feet of muscle... especially when its pride is wounded.

"Hope you watch, barbarian!" Razkar shouted to Kreig as the Akalak closed on him like Dira's shadow. "Now become tricky..."

by **Kreig Messer** on July 13th, 2013, 5:38 pm

Kreig became silent now as he continued to the observe, looking like a ghastly statue they put at the corner of buildings as his smile attempted to go wider while his eyes were read to bulge. Gods he so wanted to be a part of this, watching was good and enjoyable, was he learning something? Maybe, but now he wouldn’t be able to sleep with all this excitement building. Razkar was putting up more than just a valiant effort, willing to set himself up for pain if it meant repaying that for a victory.

‘Raz, your truly my kind of guy’ Kreig thought, trying to resist temptation of just jumping, his hands gripping the edges of a table tightly, as if trying to break pieces of it off. Razkar was quick and brutal, the Akala was also brutal but instead of slower was stronger ‘And both are highly experienced’ He wondered if he could challenge that Turak fella, maybe if he stayed in the city he shall or maybe not.

Kreig couldn’t follow all those blows they were tossing at each other… but once they stopped they both looked like shyke. Kreig reached for his ale, for once a moment like this needed a long heavy gulp as he took the swig before slamming it down on the table. Then heard Razkar’s voice and couldn’t help but ready retort “ I’M WATCHING YA FOOL, AND I DRESS MORE CIVILISED THAN YOU MIGHT I ADD, AND I LOOK LIKE THE SHYKE PEOPLE STEP ON’ then he sat down, taking another deep swig before looking back at the ring “I’m watching my friend, don’t you worry about that”

x

by **Razkar** on July 14th, 2013, 5:36 am

They both knew that the real pain was coming. Both were tired, bruised, panting and red-eyed from the exertion. The crowd loved it, though, and they knew in that feral manner of gamblers and street predators anyway that the final clash was coming soon.

Razkar managed a smirk at the big Akalak as he heard Kreig's shouted words of "encouragement".

He flicked a glance, and saw a longing in the spiky-haired human's eyes he knew very well.

Wish you were here?

The floor shook. Turak started to move towards him, crouched low, protecting his torso, fists bunched, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. The Myrian's face was a mirror to his own.

Fuck it. Now or never.

Purple and brown arms slashed towards each other-

-Turak's hook avoided as Razkar swayed away, repaying him with a dig to his ribs-

-sliding away to his left to avoid a kneecap jutting upwards to his stomach, aiming a right jab at the wobbling leg the Akalak was on-

-focusing too hard on it-

-as the Akalak spun and hammered a left hook at the side of his head-

Move, move, mo-

Razkar's gnosis burned on his neck and lurched away, but the massive fist still grazed his temple, throwing him off his balance-

-and a vast purple shadow was there to take advantage of it.

The Myrian hunkered down, bent over fists and forearms covering his face and neck as a rain of blows peppered him. Over and over until the Akalak realized it wasn't working-

-and lifted him off his feet with a bruising knee to his stomach, drawing it back fast so Razkar couldn't grapple him like last time-

-slamming both his fists on either side of the Myrian's head as he was pinned against the wire-

-and the inside of Razkar's head exploded.

He roared in pain as the pressure in his ears screamed through his mind and killed his equilibrium stone dead. He staggered like a drunk on a merry-go-round, fists lowering, staying on his feet through sheer grim determination-

-but unable to stop when a snarling Turak grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back, spinning him around-

-snaking his other bulging arm around his neck-

-lifting him clear off the ground, back to his broad chest, showing him to the crowd like a buck he'd just killed.

And the treacherous bastards petching loved it.

Razkar saw them, glimpsed through his fading vision. Faces became melting wax masks, beards and eyes and gaping maws of mouths running into each other. Their roars and cheers became scraping laughter on his ears, one of which seemed to be half-torn off his head. He couldn't feel his feet. His throat was being squeezed... and then a voice slid into his ears, choked with fatigue and victory.

"Hush now, Myrian... time to go to sleep..."

Whatever fire was left in Razkar burned from a squib to a spark to a torch inside him. He could almost... see it... burning there... mocking him... goading him... reminding him...

"I will not fail."

His words came back and slapped his eyes back open with a rush of air, Turak frowning with disbelief as his biceps parted to let the impossible breath through the pressure on his throat. He felt the eerie, ethereal warmth from the mark on the back of the Myrian's neck.

Turak's arm vibrated and he wondered why but then the Myrian's vocal chords started to undulate again, snarl becoming a roar of anger as he threw his head back, mouth opening wide-

-bearing twin rows of sharp teeth-

-and he bit down hard on the Akalak's forearm until he pierced flesh and fat and bone-

"FUCK!"

Turak swore in pain and shock, grip around the Myrian's neck and arm loosening, caught completely off guard and Razkar felt his feet touch back down-

-free arm snapping behind him, going low-

-gripping around the Akalak's scrotum, squeezing-

-and twisting.

Turak's cry became higher, almost frenzied, a shriek of agony-

-as Razkar ripped his arm away from the Akalak's weakened hand that gripped his arm behind his back, the Myrian turning, spinning around to face him-

-stepping back sharply as the enraged, stunned giant swung at his face with a desperate, obvious right hook, gnosis granting him one more chance to keep his word to his Goddess-Queen-

Razkar''s right hand snapped up to slap around the Akalak's wrist, holding it steady-

-his left forearm moving at the same time, slamming horizontally into Turak's elbow-

-and forcing it in utterly the wrong direction. Hard.

The crowd almost drowned out Turak's bellow of agony. Almost, but not quite. His mouth opened wide and a hurricane of sound came out like a gust, elbow dislodged with a sound like a rain-sodden branch snapping in the wind. No bone protruded; Razkar didn't think it was broken... but it could be.

At that moment in time, he couldn't have cared less.

Turak kicked wildly, arms like bludgeons, all strategy gone, just wanting the Myrian's off, swinging for Razkar's groin even as his own screamed in pain-

-only for the Myrian to sidestep and sweep his leg at the Akalak's remaining one, knocking him down onto the sawdust and stained boards with a sound like a mountain collapsing-

-going down with him, straddling him-

Three punches, so hard it was like he was trying to punch something behind Turak's skull, but built like the Akalak was, he knew that's what it would take, and knuckle bruised on bone and flesh once... twice... thrice...

Until the crowd's roars began to dull. Until the Akalak stopped trying to resist and lay limp, unconscious. His face was sbloody and his nose was a mess, but he'd wake up again, pulped and defeated...

Razkar grinned. And his last memory will have been that of the savage beating him into the dream world.

Then in a rush of reality - and who needed too much of that, after all? - and the realization he had won, Razkar's body finally betrayed him, let him down hard and didn't even leave a note. He staggered to his feet and blood trailed in his wake, flap of skin from his torn ear and battered temple oozing down his neck, sparkling on his tanned hide along with sweat...

The crowd roared, and he sneered at them through swollen lips. Coughing wracked his body over and over again, the memory of the Akalak's arm choking him coming back hard...

Barely standing. Panting hard. Challenged by one larger and stronger... but where was he? Laying at his feat, unconscious...

"Praise be to Myri..."

Gene Duval heard the heathen words murmured as he approached the Myrian, but ignored them, concentrating on raising the winner's hand and screaming over the cheers that accompanied it, not to mention the snarls and spittle and accusing fingers.

Fickle wankers; always have been.

"And the winner is... Razkar!"

The Myrian looked around and saw nothing worth resting his eyes on. Just more peons and gamblers... but he knew, out there, Eranis had noticed. Perhaps he would seek some manner of revenge for his cousin, but the cerebral knife-fighter was... more pragmatic than that. Revenge gained him nothing, and risked much.

Then he saw Kreig... and he raised on bloody finger with a bloody grin... then collapsed backwards in exhaustion.

by **Kreig Messer** on July 26th, 2013, 5:53 pm

'By the gods' Kreig silently exclaimed, barely able to keep himself from getting into that ring and getting in on all the excitement 'Calm down you git, no point interrupting the grand finale when both petchers are tired' He reminded himself that, what point is a fight when both petchers are too tired? 'And I don't think Natasha will appreciate me fighting in this state' He tugged lightly at at the cloth over his head and sighed and just had to be content with ,,,,the fight that was nearly at its climax.

Then Razkar grabbed the Akalak by the balls....literally.... and twist and squeezed. Every man winced in sympathy for the gent, Kreig however broke in unconstrained laughter at what he just saw. Quickly he found himself on the ground, grasping his abdomen as his sides ached "So....PRICELESS" He thought.

After regaining what little composure he had, he resumed watching the battle as it reached its end. Turak was trying to get payback by swinging his meaty arms, one with aa dislocated elbow perhaps, a leg trying to Kick Raz in his privates ' Now he's just a mad bull' Kreig grinned as he witnessed Raz evading the Akalak's frantic movements and delivered blow after blow to the back of the giant's skull 'Petching over' Kreig thought.

Turak had been beaten as his lumbering form lay quiet on the ground. Razkar, looking more like shyke than when he entered, was the victor as he received both cheers and sneers from the audience. Kreig cheered wildly as he raised his mug, then stuck a tongue out as Raz gave him a rather rude and bloody gesture.

As Raz collapsed, a couple of the establishment's goons dragged him away and dumped him in front of Kreig, Gene Duval dumping a pouch of Miza's on his chest " Here's his winnings, I'd suggest dragging him back to wherever he's staying" Kreig nodded courteously as Gene walked away.

'Well... before I do any of that' Kreig knelt down holding his mug, opened the Myrians mouth and poured the contents inside his mouth " Drink it up my friend, you've earned it"

x

by **Razkar** on July 27th, 2013, 2:29 am

"Fuck!"

"Ah, stop being a fucking baby..."

Razkar growled his response and bit back any words that might go with it. There had to be a rule somewhere about antagonizing the man stitching up your ear, and he was not about to break it... especially when that man was Gene Duval. Twenty mizas of his winnings were in the bartender's purse now, paid for his useful and well-practiced skills.

The Myrian ahd been entirely nonplussed to find that Duval had a plethora of needles, thread, gauze, bandages, tonics and ointment behind the bar, all seemingly geared towards the healing of cuts, bruises and slashes.

Plenty of experience, evidently.

The needle pierced and threaded one more time and Razkar gritted his teeth, taking another swig of the evil-smelling liquid sloshing and sizzling in the bottle Duval had given him. It burned him, every inch of him, setting his tongue and gums aflame but at least it was distracting him from the pain in his fucking ear.

"Petch is this?"

"Family secret." Duval replied, eyes focused on his work, then adding. "Don't leave it out in the sun, though. It's been known to combust on its own."

"I believe."

They were seated at a corner table, Duval quietly going about his work and Razkar staring sullenly ahead, eyes tightly knotted together... and offering the bottle to Kreig, who was seated next to him. He managed a fierce smile as he caught the human's eyes.

"You enjoyed the fight?"

It was only half a question: the Myrian had seen the joy, the longing etched on Messer's face, as if he were admiring the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He was surprised the young buck managed to keep himself out the ring.

"I did." He patted his own purse, now quite a bit heavier, but his eyes were sliding back to the ring. To the stains that spattered like red fingers splayed across the sawdust, Turak long-gone and carried away to the gods-knew-where. "Yes... I did..."

Winnings+130GM (originally 150GM, minus 20GM paid to NPC Gene Duval to stitch up Razkar's ear

by **Kreig Messer** on July 31st, 2013, 10:44 pm

Kreig stood against a wall near the table where Duval stitched Raz's ear, the brawler had a conte ted look on his face bht somehow also managed to mix in longing into the equations "Shyke, dear man, thats like asking a kelvic if it enjoys the company" Kreig chuckled as he reached for the bottle, admired the dreadul looking liquid carefully and gave it a breif swig. Now he had this burnijg sensating that made him wonder if Syna had a baby inside him and it was taking up emmense space "Petch, I think this should stay a secret"

"I find it amusing that the previous fight involved a short and large men fighting a lackluster battle, only to get a more exciting one with you and that Turak fella" Kreig shook his head as he placed the bottle back on the table "You'd think one of the gods were trying to help make your point. Learned a lot from it, thats much for certain"

"Shame though, now I'm going to have combat yearnings for days and I can't till my head petching heals up" he sighed,a few more days till thats bound to happen " So how long you staying for in any case? Just so I know I can bug you at the pits for a spar" Or another major bout if Kreig had his way.
x

by **Razkar** on August 1st, 2013, 3:55 am

"I find it amusing that the previous fight involved a short and large men fighting a lackluster battle, only to get a more exciting one with you and that Turak fella. You'd think one of the gods were trying to help make your point. Learned a lot from it, that's much for certain."

Razkar heard the words and tilted his head a little to cast a knowing glance at Gene Duval, who was soaking a cloth with hundred-proof liquid and shot it right back at him. The merest suggestion of a smile danced at the corners of the bartender's mouth, and he shrugged.

The Myrian snorted.

"Yes... was strange. And if not gods, maybe some other was making night go good. Maybe knew I would be here. Maybe knew Akalak would be here."

Gene Duval got closer and his voice was a very picture of smug innocence: "That's a lot of speculation, there, Myrian."

"Not mean is not true."

"This is going to hurt."

"It always hurARGHFUCK!"

Without a hint of remorse - and actually with some satisfaction - the human pressed the dripping towel to Razkar's freshly-stitched ear, coating all of it in the kind of liquid that could cauterize a petching plague. No chance of infection, the Myrian wondered, even as he gritted his teeth so hard the molars cracked.

"Thank... you."

"You're more than welcome."

"Oh, am sure..."

With a grunt Razkar got to his feet, and noted the nods he was getting from some of the crowd. Bullet-headed toughs, no-necked boxers, even sellswords he'd seen around the Pit or the Coin... they recognized him now. They knew him even better than before.

The Myrian snorted softly. Barbarians. All of them. Fickle and easily-impressed. He hefted his harness over his shoulder, wincing as his body screamed in protest under her, whipping his cloak around his shoulders.

"Shame though, now I'm going to have combat yearnings for days and I can't till my head petching heals up. So how long you staying for in any case? Just so I know I can bug you at the pits for a spar."

Another snort as he turned to the chattering younger man, but this one was more amused than contemptuous. Kreig was... growing on him. Yes, he was young and brash and took little seriously, but hells, wasn't that what young men were supposed to be like? The man knew how to take a punch, too, and could certainly test Razkar more than most... though he had a ong way to go.

But right now, as his bones creaked and his recently-closed wounds throbbed, he just shook his head.

"You see me there in two or three day, maybe. Going to stay..."

He nearly gave the man the name of the Goldengrotto, Edreina's boat... but he held back. Kreig could perhaps find it out through some informant, snitch or just luck, but Razkar would rather not make it easier for him. That was her boat, her home, her sanctuary. He would not aid any defiling of it... even by one not strictly an enemy.

"... at my place, until then. Need to rest. Even Myrian need to heal..."

Razkar bowed to his "friend", drained the rest of the bottle and then tossed it into the hearth fire on one side of the room. His laugh mingled with the crashing glass and they sounded so similar in some ways. His grin was wide and happy, almost euphoric, pupils wide and juiced with adrenaline.

The Myrian clapped the human on the shoulder.

"Until that day."

A phrase from long ago, perhaps even before Falyndar. That was what he left him with. Then he was gone, weaving through the crowd and shaking off those sycophants seeking to congratulate him, hand on his purse until long after he'd left the door. Humid night air caressed his face and he sighed at Mrrko, snuffling behind a bag of oats.

The Myrian mounted his steed with effort, care and more than a few chimes patience. Then he patted his snout and let the gelding to the work.

"Home, my friend. Master did good, in money and honor... but now the body needs to rest..."

Horse and Myrian cantered along the cobbles under the vast shadow of the Stormhold and the light of Leth, until they were vanished from sight.

by **Radiant** on August 21st, 2013, 11:37 am

Razkar :

Kreig :

Notes :

My radiance is not bright enough?

If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, beam me a PM and we can work it out.

Skill	XP Earned
Socialization	+1 XP
Rhetoric	+1 XP
Unarmed Combat	+3 XP
Brawling	+3 XP
Acrobatics	+2 XP
Endurance	+3 XP

Skill	XP Earned
Observation	+5 XP
Socialization	+2 XP
Rhetoric	+3 XP

Completed [The Spinning Coin] Fuel, Fire, Desire