“I’m more than that, man, fuckin’ marvelous,” mumbled Neil, except he did it mostly in French… or Spanish. Maybe a bit of both, he wasn’t entirely sure. Blue eyes fluttered open slowly, squinting in the new morning light, the bright turquoise of his eyes shrunk to thin rings at the edges of pupils dilated to near total diameter. A snicker rippled through him as he looked up through his atmospheric swirl of bliss and spotted some angel-faced ginger girl that – briefly – reminded him of Lil’ Miss Gifted back before she died and died her hair.
Then he realized this girl looked nothing like his sister and snorted at her like this deception had always been her intention. This was offensive enough that he managed to lever himself up on his elbows and roll gracefully into a sitting position, grinning goofily at the girl.
“Youuuuu,” he said, in English this time, “shouldn’t touch me. I’m…” he snapped his finger a huge flare of fire erupted unexpected from his fingertip. “…hot.” Then he doubled over laughing. “Oh God, that was bad. Sorry. I mean I’ll burn your fucking face off with fire.” He grinned. Then seemed to realize what he’d just said and corrected himself, “Sorry. I didn’t mean that, in like, the threatening way that came out I meant that I might accidentally burn your face off because I’m a fire elemental. See?”
He held up his hands which bled flame, lazy and laconic across his palms. Were he, perhaps, a younger firestarter with less grasp of his element, being high would have probably stopped Fire from heeding his call, but as it was some of it was sliding through. Inner Abri was telling him to stop it, but he didn’t like Abri much right now. She wasn’t much help. He just glanced at the pretty girl who wasn’t Seer and said some what caustically, “Look, I’m high and on fire. Maybe you don’t want to be here right now.” (He was trying to be nice… but being nice wasn’t doing much for him so he might have sounded a little insincere.)