The Arsonist || DTAE

Instructions

Press arrow keys to see a different version! Name: Ardor Pronouns: He/him Known as: The Arsonist Age: Adolescent Species: Feline Personality: Ardor is a quite different one. One moment, it can seem as everything is well, but then the next, he can explode like raging flames. This scares many away, but for the ones who stay, he can be surprisingly kind. Ardor likes to watch the world happen. He comes off as rude, and arrogant (which he is), but there's more to a cat than just the outside.. Backstory (Beware, its long): When Ardor was no more than 6 months old, he woke up to screams. Bright orange flames surrounded him, and the panicked eyes of his mother and father exchanged glances before he was nudged along to where the fire was no more. Ardor, however, was mesmerized by the flames. The way the flames danced like graceful ballerinas, the way the fire seemed to light up the whole world. He stood there, his surroundings lost, feeling the heat no more. Ardor then was a young thing, he did not know the danger in this world, only the beauty. Once his parents realized he was missing, his mother dashed back to save him, while his father ran back into the building, after hearing a scream. Only Ardor made it out that day. Later, Ardor found out the fire was set by a group of terrorists. Young Ardor did not know why anyone would do such a thing, but he did know the grief. The grief of losing his mother. His father. His village. And with that grief came an inexperienced heart. A heart that thought just weeks ago that the world was all butterflies and rainbows. Well, it's not good to mix such negativity with brightness. But that happened to Ardor. And that day, that fateful day, he vowed to avenge his parents. Make others feel the pain he feels. Show others the despair it caused. That day, Ardor used grief to build a wall around his heart, to keep anything from coming in, or ever coming out. Months later, Ardor had made a name for himself. The Arsonist, they would whisper in dark alleys. The Arsonist, they would say, when questioned about the flames. The Arsonist, they would scream when they woke up to the blazing fire. But Ardor did not care, as the pain in his heart drove his fury. He began to become wild, setting fires every day. Traveling under shadows, but lighting up the brightest flames. The embers of fury in him started to kindle, and Ardor himself slowly realized what he was doing wrong, but he did not stop. That wall around his heart was still strong, and it stopped any feeling of sincerity from escaping. So he continued to burn. Because Ardor was always surrounded by so much fire, his physical appearance started to shift as well. It started small, but by the time of a couple of months, both his leg and tail melted, turning into a bright magma. One day, just like any other, Ardor set a small village on fire. He stood calmly in the midst of the flames, admiring their beauty, just like he always did. But something was different this day. The flames rose around Ardor, but something else rose as well. Something more...important, you could say. A tiny yowl. That's all it was. Nothing surprising, as there were many screams traveling up. But this, this one was different. You could say, for the first time since Ardor was just a kitten, he felt....empathy. Quickly tracking down the source of the yowl, he saw two, bright green eyes staring up at him. The green eyes reflected Ardor’s orange ones, and for once in his life, Ardor truly saw himself, and the monster he had become. The kitten was still staring at Ardor, as she pitifully mewed. Her parents were probably dead, but she seemed like a survivor. Flames lapped the side of Ardor's paws, as he hesitated, but then quickly picked up the kitten at the scruff. Leaping gracefully around the flames, he dropped the kitten right outside of the embers, far enough so the others could not see who he was, but close enough so they could see the kitten was alive. Ardor swiftly ran back into the fire, sheltering in the flames. The kitten had reminded him of himself when he was younger. Innocent, clueless, but strong. Ardor curled up into a ball, and tucked his nose under his tail. Emotions swirling, he pondered his thoughts. He never had to think like this before. Sighing, he closed his eyes, though he knew sleep would not come. He was calm, though, the flames would not kill him, he knew that. But the kitten had done something more powerful than the flames ever could have. Years surrounded by fire could not melt the wall around Ardors heart, yet it had seemed that the kitten had miraculously cracked it, just a little bit. To be continued… AHHH MY FINGERS ARE TIRED IF I WIN HIM I'LL FINISH WRITING IT- That sounds kinda rude Does it? If it does don’t take it the wrong way lol