Scene #2551: Building Character or, How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Flame

Owner	Pose
Mortimer Balman	Mortimer had not left Poqmori with the others, after the comet had flown by and left. He had opted instead to stay and train, as the World Martial Arts Tournament is not so far off. But he had offered little Spike to remain with him on the planet, to train with him. The boy was slow to grow, certainly, but he was nonetheless growing. He would not be a baby dragon forever, and Mortimer would not live forever. In the old pokemorph's mind, Spike was an ideal candidate to watch over Equestria when he was gone. A stout heart, both right and kind; and respectful of his elders too. Silly perhaps now and again, but he was a child after all. Therefore Mortimer would not subject him to the same harsh, rigorous training that he had the Hunter boy Will, but he would still be putting Spike through what the youth might consider a grueling regimen of developing the needed muscle and reflex control for breathing hotter and for longer, and working on getting him in sturdier shape. No doubt telling Spike that one day when he was all grown up, certian ponies would find a built drake more handsome than one who had a lazy gut. With such in mind, Mortimer would have set Spike to work digging a pit in the sand beneath the shade of a large overhanging rock, then using tiny bits of water collected from morning precipitation to make it somewhat muddy and stable, so that when night or he wished to take a break, came he would have a cooler place to relax in his away-from-home basket. Mortimer himself was busy meditating in the burning hot Groudan sun, his fiery mane spread out slightly around him and raising the temperature in his immediate area by a severe degree- focusing his flames, trying to catch the solar rays..
Twilight Sparkle	Grueling indeed. But, Spike would do just about anything for a certain pony who is his secret crush. So, he dug the pit into the sand, and is now enjoying one such break, panting heavily from the work of digging into the hot sands and tight packed sandstone beneath. The morning moisture had been applied, but it is still a desert. One would think that a dragon who can breathe fire would be resistant to hot conditions, but Spike is sweating like a snowman. "Finally..done..." he pants as he lies there, sprawled out on his back. Twilight Sparkle is actually not here at the moment. She trusts Mortimer to protect Spike and not strain him too much. So, Spike is at the mercy of the old war veteran and his pokemon.
Mortimer Balman	Actually, Mortimer's pokemon aren't here! Well except for Reder, but Reder is off hunting for food. Gem deposits are not easy to come by on Poqmori anymore, but Switchbait being, well, Switchbait would have made sure there were plenty of Equestrian stones for Spike to munch on. But for Reder and Mortimer, they had to hunt and forage for their supper. The heat around Mortimer dissipates, one ear quirking sideways as he hears Spike's affirmation. Holding his hand out in the direction of the newly dug pit, a thin layer of frost appears over Spike's head on the 'roof' of the overhanging rock. As heat rises and cool air is pushed down, the little dragon will be able to enjoy a short respite from the heat- at least long enough to stop sweating so much! Admittedly, Mortimer is puzzled how Spike sweats with /scales/ but it's probably some weird biological thing he won't really grasp. No matter. After another moment, the old morph gets up and goes to squat over by Spike's pit. "Once you finish cooling off, you drink a bottle of water. The whole thing- not too fast, but don't sip it either. Five more minutes and then we'll be going off on a long walk. That alright with you, sport?"
Twilight Sparkle	Spike blinks as the frost appears above him. He isn't too clear about how pokemon work, but he is pretty sure that it is amazing that a fire pokemon can make ice. He enjoys the cool flow of air the frost sends down on him, then sits up as Mortimer talks. "Yes sir, sarge!" he says, standing up and snapping to attention, one clawed hand saluting. Then...he flops back down. "I don't suppose that bottle of water can move by itself..." he mumbles as he cools off. He climbs out of the pit once he is cooler, then drinks that bottle of water. "So...you used to live here? I don't even see ruins. How long ago was that?"
Mortimer Balman	Mortimer chuckles a bit. "No need to be all military about it, son. I'm not yer drill instructor. I'm just a friend passin' on some knowledge.." He'd stand up and stretch out, numerous bones popping as he does so. "Oof. Ah.. Let's see.." He pauses to put a hand to his chin, rubbing it thoughtfully. "Close to fourty thousand years ago by now, Spike. Give or take a millennium.. The places I once lived, the place I called home, those were gone a tremendous time ago.. All that remains are the husks of great cities built by the last generation of a highly sophisticated and advanced culture that left this world in search of new worlds to see, thousands of years ago." He lets out a small sigh. It all makes him feel terribly, /terribly/ /old/. But.. At the same time there is a sense of accomplishment in his statements. This was the outcome he had spent uncounted ages working for in service to his Gods. And despite the losses of so much to the uncaring whims of time, he was content with this. And continues talking. "Several miles north of us is where my hometown used to be.. But when they began developing arcologies- massive buildings that can hold entire cities of people in a single structure- it was mostly abandoned and left to be reclaimed by the Sands. Now only the Sand remembers it.. Along with me, and Reder. Someday only the Sands will recall.. But no matter. Stretch yer legs out the way I showed you- the hike we're going to make will take us to the nearest stable oasis, and that's about twenty miles south by southeast of our current location."
Twilight Sparkle	Spike tries to listen intently, but unlike Twilight studies are not his strong suit. He listens, but not intently. His eyes wander, as does his mind. "You must be pretty awesome to have lived this long and not even look that old." Spike says as he starts stretching. "Geeze...twenty miles. I don't think I've ever gone that far on foot." Spike tries to peer into the distance, to see if he can see that oasis, then he peers the other way for signs of Morty's town. "That's not true, is it? I mean, your goddess or whoever will remember you guys and your town, right?"
Mortimer Balman	Ol' Mort laughs at that. "Aye, yea, that they will! Gods are quite good at remembering things. But then they are not of the world of flesh and stone like we are, lad. They are on a whole different level of existence." He'd pause thoughtfully. "Well.. Time travel lets yah skirt a lot of rules about how old you /ought/ to look fer how long you've existed." He'd cast his gaze southeastwards. "You let me know if yer feet start hurtin' too much, alright? But I want you to walk as long as y'can. The more you build yerself up, the less you need to worry 'bout it in the future." He'd kick his boots off over by his own sleeping hole, burying his toes under the sand for a few moments, then start walking. "Here, I'll even go barefoot as you. Now let's be off, Spike. We've much ground t'cover. If we keep up a good pace we can make it afore the day is out."
Twilight Sparkle	Spike scratches his head as Mortimer talks about gods and time and stuff. "The queens have lived a long time...I wonder if they are gods of some kind?" he says, then starts walking as Mortimer does. "But, they don't really seem like they are on some different level. Just really strong." Spike always goes barefoot, so walking like this isn't too hard. Only time will tell if he has the endurance for such a long hike, though. As they walk, Spike hums a tune that nearly every pony would recognize. "Do you take hikes like this a lot?" the little dragon asks after a while. Like, you know, a minute or something. "I don't usually have to walk very far. Twilight carries me, or there are trains or wagons or things like that. I know Applejack can probably hike like this no problem, maybe all the ponies. They do that Running of the Leaves thing every year, and don't even train for it."
Mortimer Balman	Mortimer nods as they walk. "I'm not so sure they are 'gods' per se- but at the very least, the Queens are demigodal beings of some form or another. Or darn close to it, t'least! No.. My goddesses, they do not live here on this plane of existence. They dwell in a place where Gods live, past petty mortal concepts like "Space" or "Time", "Life" or "Death", among other things. They are neither strong nor weak, because they don't really adhere to such notions. S'why they sometimes get folks like me to do work for'em.. But that's neither here nor there." He'd drink some water while walking, not initially answering Spike until he'd drained the bottle. "Yea, that I do. Good exercise. Well fer ponies it's easy- quadrupedal design, four legs an' all, they're built fer it. But you ought to get into the habit of walkin' on yer own more, kiddo. You'll not always be small enough for Twilit to carry yah everywhere. Plus it's good exercise. Someday in the future, when yer a great grand gloriously huge dragon yerself, you might find /yer/ the one who'll be carryin' folks 'round!"
Twilight Sparkle	Spike's earfins splay as he hears Mortimer talk about him not being able to ride Twilight forever. "I'll be kinda sad when I'm too big for her. It's nice, getting carried around." But, he perks up when he thinks about being a great grand gloriously huge dragon. "Hehe...even in my greed-induced growth spurt, I was pretty grand and glorious. I can hardly wait to grow up and be that awesome without all the destruction and hording!" he says, giving a fist pump at the idea. Then, he is quiet a moment or two. "...I just wish it wouldn't take so long. I feel like I've been this same size for ages."
Mortimer Balman	Mortimer nods a bit, chuckling. "Yea.. That'll be nice. 'Specially since it means you'll be less likely to step on my bloody house!" A hoarse, coarse laugh. "Don't rush growin' up, Spike.. If there's only one real lesson you ever take from me, try to cherish these years. Bein' an adult ain't all it's cracked up t'be. When yer older you may find yerself longin' fer the old days, an' thinkin' yerself a fool for wishin' to grow up so fast. It'll come.. Yer, what, gotta be almost in yer teens by now? I've lived in Equestria fer a few years now. Y'ought to at least be close to the same age as the Crusaders. I'm sure you'll start seein' real growth once you startin' gettin' to a teenage area. At least, I think you will. I'd hafta go out 'n find other Equestria dragons t'know fer sure.." He shrugs. And the walk continues. One wonders how long little Spike can handle what would ostensibly be a six hour hike.
Twilight Sparkle	"Kuh. Other Equestrian dragons are jerks! I've met a couple, and believe me, they aren't nice. I don't really want to grow up to be like one of them. Strong, sure, but mean and inconsiderate? No thanks. I like having friends, and I couldn't handle it if Twilight didn't want me around anymore." Spike says, shaking his head. While he hasn't had much chance to display his stamina before, Spike turns out to be quite hardy. No doubt from his dragon lineage. He walks for a good hour before he shows signs of slowing, and by the second hour he is still going, but looks a bit tired. Somewhere in the third hour, he actually gets worn out and has to stop. Or, more accurately, he faceplants in the sand after pushing himself because Mortimer is there and he doesn't want to look weak.
Mortimer Balman	Surprised by this level of stamina, Mortimer pauses when he hears Spike stop and turns to tell him what a good job he's done- annnd then he sees the boy facedown in the sand. Facepalm. "Dernit Spike, I toldja to tell me when you were outta breath. Up y'go.." Scooping the little drake up off the dirt, he'd set Spike on his shoulder and focus his thoughts around creating a thin sheet of ice over their heads, attached to his hand by an icy stick- like an umbrella of sorts- shielding them from the harsh rays of the sun for the most part, and creating a little cool draft down. That ought to give poor Spike a breather. "There's a fine line between proper exercise an' wearin' yerself out too hard, Spike. The latter of these is not conducive t'gettin' yerself stronger. But that's alright, you'll get it yet." So for the remainder of the trip, Mortimer simply carries Spike. Though without needing to worry about him falling behind, Mortimer breaks into a jog for the rest of it. Ten miles with a small dragon on his shoulder is easy peasy compared to the same hike at a jogging pace with twenty or more kilograms of weight in a rucksack on your back! And no doubt Spike will be greatly pleased to see the oasis, water reflecting off of the shallow waters that spring up from a natural well down below. Wild pokemon can be seen drinking from it- a small group of Ponyta and Grumpigs, along with some Spearows that are busy digging up and vicously pecking at a Stunfisk- trying to eat it. But they are driven away when the muddy fish-pokemon emits a powerful electrical charge with a loud BZZZAMMP, and then it starts flopping away at a remarkably fast pace for something that has no legs. A Sandshrew briefly pokes its head out of the sand near a tree where Mortimer sets Spike down to let him relax while he refills the water bottles. It makes an inquisitive sound and sniffs at him, shrew'ing cautiously. These beasts are not like Reder or Switchbait, for some reason or another- they are purely wild and do not 'talk' in any understandable form.
Twilight Sparkle	Spike is easily hefted up, the little dragon panting heavily. "S-sorry...I...thought I could...make it..." the dragon pants as he is carried. When they reach the oasis, Spike is pretty well recovered after the cool umbrella and some water. He is now marvelling at the pokemon. Ponies that are on fire? He wonders if they are somehow related to Twilight. And, purple pigs! And electrical fish! But, they are not like Mortimer's pokemon. They don't wave back when Spike waves to them, or talk back when he greets them. When they arrive at the oasis, Spike hops down and waddles to the water, splashing a bit over himself. And watching out for that fish. "What now, sarge?" he asks.
Mortimer Balman	The minute Spike starts waving, the Sandshrew makes a startled noise and disappears back into the sand, burrowing away fast as it can. One of the smaller Ponyta briefly starts trotting toward him, but an older Rapidash lets out a snort and a whinny, and leads it away from the dragon quickly. Mortimer brings back fresh water. "Drink up. Try not to get upset if the local wildlife doesn't appear too friendly. Yer a /Dragon/-type to them. Dragon-types tend to be part of the upper echelons of the food chain- they see you as a predator, even as a child. And yer an /alien/ dragon, at that! The very first alien dragon on Poqmori, no less!" A laugh, and he drinks some water down. "Now we're gonna practice yer /flames/, son. This area used to be where we had Camp Leatherneck- the rocks here are mostly /limestone/. But more than bein' mere limestone, they're pretty rich in oxidants. That means these rocks are /flammable/, so they make fer pretty good practice! Now what we're gonna do, is find you a good big stone.." He starts digging at the sands until he lets out an angry growl, apparently chipping a nail on a stone of limestone only a foot or two beneath the sand, and puts it over by Spike's tree. "Now to actually get this stuff to ignite is pretty easy, but you have to burn hot enough, /for/ long enough. So what I want you to do now is some breathin' exercise. Slow, deep breaths. It'll help stretch yer lungs out. Even if you're breathin' magical flames, you still got have /breath/ in you to do it. So the more air you can tell your lungs to hold, the more air you've got to breathe out. Do that for a couple minutes while I get my own rock.."
Twilight Sparkle	Spike perks as that Ponyta starts toward him, but is soon disappointed as its mother or father leads it away. "So, dragons are dangerous here just like on Equestria, huh?" he says, seeming to find that a bit inspiring. Even on other worlds, his kind is viewed as powerful. "The first alien dragon on some world seems like it should be in a history book. Preferably with my name beneath a big picture of me. And maybe a statue somewhere." the little dragon says, grinning. Then, talk of flames! "Woah! I'm gonna burn rocks?!" He seems pretty excited about that. He listens raptly as the exercises are explained, then nods. "Breathing. Got it." Spike then proceeds to take slow, deep breaths. One can actually see his body inflate a bit with the breaths.
Mortimer Balman	while Spike breathes, Mortimer digs for a rock of his own. A small laugh. "I fear there's nobody left on Poqmori what could do that right now, my little friend. All the people that live here now, are primitive tribalistic savage sorts. They do not yet have written language of their own, much less the skill needed fer proper statue-carvin'. But.. Mm, I shall make a note of it, when we go home.." He did make a good point. A small bit of historic importance but important nonetheless. After finding his own rock, he'd set it a good bit away from Spike's. "Alright, now.. One trick- at least till you really get the hang of it, here- is to try an' make yer throat and mouth narrower. You know how like when you whistle? Just like that, only instead of pushin' out air, push out /fire/ with it. First yah take a deep breath, then you constrict the muscles so that as little air passes out at as possible. Then you slowly breathe out just like you were tryin' to toss out a gout normal-like..." He'd demonstrate of course, to help with the picture. Taking in a deep breath, so much that his stomach distends a little bit, Mortimer's throat visibly sucks itself in a bit and he purses his lips. A narrow stream of flame gushes out of his mouth and over the limestone rock, slowly turning it from a greenish-white to red, and then brighter shades of red, until it is glowing.. And then ignites, as the oxidizers work in tandem with the limestone to create a fuel source for burning of their own accord, finally bursting into a small fire that quickly burns itself up and out, leaving only a black bit of stone that gives off a somewhat acrid smelling smoke. "Now then. I don't expect you to set yer rock on fire first try. This is important now, Spike- /do not/ be afraid to screw up, or fail. Don't get upset or frustrated if you can't set yours ablaze. Just /scorch/ it, make it /glow/ a bit, and that'll be a good start. Alright?"
Twilight Sparkle	Spike watches, wide-eyed, as Mortimer turns that -rock- into ash. "Woah! Awesome!" Spike says, then turns to look at his own rock. "Alright...deep breath...narrow mouth..." Spike mimics Morty, drawing in a deep breath until he inflates a bit, then attempts tightening his throat and mouth. And...hey! A pretty healthy burst of flame comes out! It would probably be plenty to cook a hot dog or grill a sheshkabab, but will it be enough for this rock? The rock starts to turn red, brighter and brighter, but before it bursts into flame, Spike shudders with the effects of exhaling for so long. Then, he falls over, flames subsiding. He huffs as he lies there a moment, trying to catch his breath, then gets back to his feet. "Almost had it!"
Mortimer Balman	Mortimer steps out of the way and patiently watches as Spike follows his instructions mostly to the letter. "There, good.. Eyyy there yah go! That's-" And then Spike falls over. Peering down at the little drake for a moment he shakes his head and laughs. "Good! Good job! You did exactly as I said, you /scorched/ it. That's a good start! Now that you know what to do, you can /practice/ on doin' it /better/. Wood, oxidized limestone, anything that's good 'n flammable is a good thing to practice with. Here's a thing to keep in mind- /never/ over-breathe yerself. If you blow out all the air in yer lungs, you need time to get air back /into/ them. If yer ever in a /fight/ of some sort that'd be bad for yah to just suddenly flop over cause you're depriving your lungs of air. Always keep just enough in so that you can keep oxygen flowin' and repeat the process. In time, you'll learn how to blast flames /repeatedly/ the way I do." He'd scoop up Spike and carry the little fellow over to a tree to relax, giving him a freshly filled bottle of water. "Drink it slow this time, yer not overheatin'. Don't need to worry about rehydratin' too fast. We're gonna be here another day or two so while we're here, you're gonna practice gettin' out good puffs of flame and, more importantly, /breathing/ exercises so that you can suck in air quick and puff it out hard without hyperventilatin'. Hyperventilation is one'a the biggest dangers to us fire-breathers, gotta learn how to get that in control right fast an' young."
Twilight Sparkle	Spike looks a bit sheepish as he is picked up again. He takes a few deep breaths, then chuckles. "Yeah, I guess that would be bad." he says of the in a fight advice. He sips the water, then blinks. "Wait, another day or two? Twilight might need my help back at the library! I can't just stay gone, she really depends on me! I'm her number one assistant, you know!" He seems pretty serious about this. One thing a dragon usually takes seriously is his duty to his friends. Especially his surrogate mother figure.
Mortimer Balman	Well, that's not surprising, given how close Spike is to Twilit. Mortimer whoa's a little and nods, "Okay, okay. I'll call Switchbait and have him send 'round a transport so you can get picked up in the mornin', then. I'm sure Twilit can survive a few nights without yah but, no matter. This desert heat might be a tad too harsh on yah for an extended period of exposure anyway, so no big deal." He'd look out to the west, where the sun was slowly setting, turning the sky a brilliant array of purples, reds, and other similar hues. "For tonight though, we'd best be headed back to our base camp, lest we get caught way out where the wild pokemon live. Some of them might be more aggressive than others.." Perhaps to emphasize this, a Charizard could be seen flying overhead- chasing a Fearow and spouting flames from its maw. "We'll get a good night's sleep and, with luck, Reder will have brought back some meat so's he and I can /eat/. So let's stretch them legs out again, lad- the desert won't cool too fast in summer, so we needn't worry 'bout freezin', but it shouldn't be so hot that you can't make it farther under yer own footpower than our trip out here."
Twilight Sparkle	Spike visibly relaxes as Mortimer gives in to his pleas, then he hmphs. "Sure. Nights are fine. She has Owlowiscious." He says that name with more than a bit of mocking. The little dragon hops up when Mortimer says it is time to go, but he goes still and wide-eyed at the sight of the Charizard. "...woooaaah...is that one of the dragons from this world? He looks awesome! Kinda chubby, but who am I to judge? And he's taking out that giant bird! He's gotta be awesome!" Even as they start walking, Spike is watching the sky and that Charizard until it flies off or is simply out of sight. "I wonder if I will get wings when I grow up?"
Mortimer Balman	Mortimer shakes his head. "Actually, no. Charizards are /not/ dragons despite similarities in basic appearance. They're actually just a Fire/Flying dual type, not a proper Dragon-type. In essence, this makes them simply flying lizards. Granted, they are a potent Fire-type, but being Flying-type opens them to weaknesses you might not expect, such as Electric-type.. Anyway let's get a move on."