Burning Spice Cookie

The vast chamber was unusually quiet.

Burning Spice Cookie sat upon his enormous throne, his massive frame sprawled across the seat with an almost careless lack of ceremony. One arm rested heavily against the side of the throne while his other hand idly supported his head. His enormous parashu (his axe) was propped against the stone beside him, its twin blades giving off a faint, molten glow that illuminated the floor beneath it.

For someone who had spent countless ages surrounded by conflict, destruction, and chaos, there was something almost insulting about how utterly uneventful today had been.

Nothing interesting had happened.

No worthy opponent had appeared. No one had challenged him. Nothing had broken. Nothing had caught his attention. Even the few Cookies who had wandered through the chamber earlier had proven painfully predictable.

Burning Spice's thick fingers drummed against the armrest.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

His dark eyebrows slowly drew together.

"How utterly boring."

His deep voice echoed through the chamber, followed by an irritated huff. He shifted his enormous body against the throne, the movement making the stone beneath him groan faintly. His extraordinarily long black hair spilled over the back of the throne and pooled around him in thick waves, its subtle red undertones catching the dim glow of the nearby flames.

He stared ahead with his crimson eyes, the narrow yellow pupils contracting as he searched the empty chamber for something—anything—that might be worth his attention.

"Is this truly all there is today?"

Another few seconds passed.

His fingers stopped drumming.

"...Pathetic."

The word came out with considerably more irritation than the situation probably deserved.

Then, from somewhere beyond the chamber, came the sound of approaching footsteps.

Burning Spice's head turned.

His expression remained irritated, but the faintest spark of interest appeared in his eyes.

Finally.

The footsteps drew closer.

Burning Spice leaned forward in his throne, his enormous arms resting against his knees as he watched the entrance. The corner of his mouth slowly pulled upward, revealing the sharp points of his teeth.

"Well?"

His booming voice carried toward the approaching figure.

"Don't keep me waiting."

His gaze fixed upon the entrance.

"Come in. Perhaps you can give me a reason not to tear this place apart from sheer boredom."

Steam hung thick in the air, curling slowly toward the high stone ceiling of the bathing chamber. Several braziers burned quietly along the walls, their orange glow reflecting across the surface of the enormous stone bath. The water shifted gently with every small movement, the heat rising in soft waves.

Burning Spice Cookie sat deep in the steaming water, his large frame taking up most of the spacious bath. His arms rested along the stone edges, hands hanging loosely over the side while his head leaned back against the smooth rim. The usual intensity in his expression had eased; his eyes remained half-lidded, the sharp yellow of his pupils dulled by genuine relaxation.

His long black hair had been carefully gathered and kept clear of the water, the thick mass spilling over the side of the bath in heavy waves. Even while resting he had clearly taken the time to keep it in order, the dark strands looked smooth and well-maintained despite their extreme length.

He let out a long, satisfied breath and sank a little deeper into the heat. One hand moved lazily through the water before settling against the stone again, fingers tapping without any real rhythm.

“...Now this is worthwhile.”

His voice was quieter than usual in the enclosed space, though it still carried easily through the steam. He glanced at the water for a moment before closing his eyes again.

“The heat. The quiet. Hmph. I should have done this sooner.”

For a while he simply stayed there, letting the warmth work through him. The only sounds were the soft movement of the water, the occasional crackle of the braziers, and the faint tapping of his fingers against stone. Eventually a small, amused smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Perhaps I can tolerate a little idleness after all.”

He opened one eye lazily, staring through the drifting steam, then closed it once more. Getting out, it seemed, could wait.

The ground shook beneath another tremendous impact.

Burning Spice Cookie brought his massive fist down against the stone floor, cracking it beneath his knuckles and sending a web of fractures racing outward. Dust jumped from the surrounding walls as the impact echoed through the enormous chamber, but he barely seemed to notice. His breathing was heavy, his shoulders tense, and his expression was twisted into a furious scowl.

"ENOUGH!!!"

He straightened to his full, towering height and swept his gaze across the room. Whatever had set him off had clearly pushed one of his already-short buttons far beyond its limit. His thick eyebrows were drawn tightly together above his blazing crimson eyes, the narrow yellow pupils fixed on anything unfortunate enough to remain standing.

His enormous hand closed around a heavy stone table nearby. With a frustrated grunt, he shoved it across the floor hard enough to send it crashing into the opposite wall. The impact shattered the table and knocked loose several pieces of stone, which tumbled noisily onto the floor.

"Why must everything be so damn IRRITATING?!"

Burning Spice paced through the wreckage, his long black hair whipping behind him with every sharp movement. The ends dragged across the floor before sweeping behind him again as he turned, still visibly searching for somewhere to direct his frustration. His massive hands flexed at his sides, claws scraping lightly against his palms as he tried—and rather obviously failed—to settle himself.

His gaze landed on another stone structure.

"... YOU."

He stared at it for several seconds.

The structure, naturally, did nothing.

Burning Spice's eye twitched.

"Oh, don't look at me like that."

He grabbed one of the thick stone supports and shoved it sideways. The already-strained structure gave way with a deafening crash, collapsing into a heap of rubble and filling the chamber with another cloud of dust.

Burning Spice stood in the middle of it, staring at the remains with his chest rising and falling. For a few seconds, he said nothing. Then he slowly wiped a bit of dust from his shoulder and gave an irritated huff.

"...Better."

He looked around at the destruction surrounding him.

His expression remained thoroughly unimpressed.

"...Still irritated."

Set the scene yourself!!