Post by Pyro on Sept 27, 2006 15:44:54 GMT -5
Mystique had decided for the sake of their newest recruits to don at very least a pair of black patent leather shorts and a square-necked sleeveless top to match. As she stalked down the hall, stretching her arms above her with a short yawn, she thought perhaps it would become a habit, if an illusory one.
Stopping by the security room doorway, she peeked in at Gill. A firm smile on her lips, she greeted him affectionately. "Hey Gill. Where's Pyro?" She nodded to the cameras.
Mystique had decided for the sake of their newest recruits to don at very least a pair of black patent leather shorts and a square-necked sleeveless top to match. As she stalked down the hall, stretching her arms above her with a short yawn, she thought perhaps it would become a habit, if an illusory one.
Stopping by the security room doorway, she peeked in at Gill. A firm smile on her lips, she greeted him affectionately. "Hey Gill. Where's Pyro?" She nodded to the cameras.
He looked up at her and nodded. "Mystique," he said, in his quasi-Jamaican accent. "It's good t'see you again. You lookin' good there, girl." He flipped a few switches and did a quick reconnaisance of the monitors. "Looks like he be down at the cove - he did say somethin' about goin' swimmin'. By way of relaxin' a bit. He been doin' a lot of that sorta thing lately."
This seemed to amuse the fish-headed mutant for some reason. "Hope he remembered to take his trunks with him," he snorted, then calmed himself down. "Ya. He down at the cove."
She looked amused, and ran her fingers along the fin atop his head familiarly. "Thanks. It's good to be back."
Barefoot and silent, she made her way back down the hall and eventually, outside again. She couldn't blame Pyro for relaxing, though she wondered where his eyes had been these last few weeks. If he was taking a little time off, so be it. Their numbers were steadily increasing so it wasn't as if they were stagnant. But it was a change from Eric, who seemed never to rest until the next plan was hatched. They had always been similar in that way.
The sand was soft until she reached the shore, and she slipped behind tall palm trees, watching him before he caught sight of her. Climbing quickly to the top of a large rock outcropping, she lay on her stomach and watched him from above, chin perched on her hands, red hair waving like a flag out from her blue shoulders.
The boy could be frightfully oblivious at times.
He had woken up that morning with a pounding headache. Emma had said to him that if he started getting headaches, it was a sign he should take an hour or two out to chill a little, relax, quite literally pull his head back together. He'd chosen to go swimming because it was peaceful. It had done the trick, too: the headache had subsided.
It hadn't completely gone away yet, but it was definitely a headache in retreat.
Pyro didn't swim particularly well and was sort of floating about in waist-depth crystal clear waters, his eyes closed, enjoying the moment of solitude.
In the way that the subconscious has, however, he gradually became aware that he might not have been as alone as he had thought. His eyes cracked open and he looked up the shoreline. Nobody there. His eyes lifted to the outcropping and met Mystique's gaze looking down at him.
A smile flickered briefly across his face and he waded out of the ocean to grab the towel he'd left on the beach.
Watching him with vigilant golden eyes, her expression was a touch dangerous, much more like the Mystique he met the day she first returned to Genosha.
"I didn't mean to disturb you."
"It's fine," he asserted, pulling on a t-shirt and a pair of combats over his shorts. "I was turning into a prune anyway. Good cue to get my ass out the water." He towelled at his hair. It had grown so much since she'd left. He looked very different.
Whilst at the same time very much the same.
He headed towards the outcropping on bare feet. "What can I do for you?"
"That's a loaded question, Pyro." She smirked.
Reaching down with a long arm she touched his forehead with the tips of her fingers, nudging wet hair to the side. "It's good to see you relaxing."
"And since when do I need something from you to seek you out."
Her fingers on his forehead sent a wash of confused and mixed feelings through him, although outwardly he remained as cool and composed as he seemed to have become. "I had a headache," he said. "Emma told me to take it easy when I got headaches, so I thought I'd take an hour out. I haven't forgotten what we talked about last night. Sombra."
Almost shyly, he tucked a lock of wet hair behind one ear.
"I'm just in the habit of people coming to find me specifically for a reason lately. There's always something. Although Angie..." He broke off, and shook his head. "She's a good person to talk to," he murmured, vaguely.
He climbed the outcropping so that he was sitting on a rock a couple down from where she was.
"I love Genosha at times," he said, softly. "It's a beautiful place. But I'm definitely going stir-crazy here. I'm...uh...hoping to speak to Python later. Gonna tell him that I'm leaving for New York and then Sombra."
Tell, not ask. How assertive.
She was quiet, taking in his speech patterns, his body language. Something was going on with Angie, and she had little doubt if it was anything related to the brotherhood, Pyro would have spilled the information without a second thought. But he hadn't. So there was something else there.
There was only one thing to be done about that.
"I'm unsure we'll be able to move on Sombra quickly." She said. "But I will do my best."
"What is going on with Angela."
The question took him by surprise and he looked round at her. "What do you mean, 'what's going on'? There's nothing 'going on' with her other than she spends a lot of time listening to me getting stuff off my chest. You know how hard it's been for me to ... y'know. Open up to people."
He ran his fingers through his damp hair. "I...think - don't quote me on this, but I THINK that she might have hopes it'll go further. But it's not going to happen. Not 'cos I don't like her or anything, 'cos I do, she's a great girl. It's just..."
Pyro sighed heavily and stared out to sea, searching for the words.
"I don't want to mess people about any more. Not myself, not Kitty, not Angie..." He looked up at her again. "Not you. I'm not capable of handling any sort of relationship, I made that pretty obvious, didn't I? So best to steer clear."
Mystique smiled. "Are you playing the 'I'll only break your heart' card, Pyro?" It was definitely a little condescending.
"You're entirely too nice."
"I'm not playing any cards," he said, defensively. "And there's nothing nice about it. Someone told me once that I should never let thinking about a girl or...or a woman...distract me from what was important. I'm being entirely selfish here, Mystique. I can't afford to have another breakdown."
There it was, the word he'd avoided using in front of her.
"I've been working hard," he said, ploughing on regardless. "And I'm not gonna let it all come crashing down because my head's full of love and emotions and schmaltz. Like Bobby's always was. It was always 'Rogue this', 'Rogue that'. Well, it ain't gonna happen to this cat, lady."
There was a pause.
"I hope you can at least see that changes have been made. That things are starting to get different."
She sat up slowly, her shoulders forward a bit. Pyro hadn't been around long enough to know the subtle interplay of body language that many mutants displayed even more pronouncedly than humans. If he had, he'd see the predatory lean in her as she spoke.
"Are you wanting to impress me with the changes you have made Pyro?" She hopped down fluidly from the rock, standing in front of him with on hand above her, leaning on the outcropping. "Or set me at ease." Her eyes challenged him. "Or try to convince me you haven't been thinking about me every moment of every day since I left." There was no softness in her voice though that smooth, even rhythm could never be taken from her. Even that could be taunting.
He stood - well, sat - his ground when she came closer. His eyes automatically flickered down the line of her fantastic body - he was, after all, only male. "I'm not trying to impress you," he said, keeping his tone cool. His heart, however, was pounding so loudly in his ears that he wondered if she could actually hear it. "And only you know whether you're at ease."
Then he stood up too, tipping his head slightly on one side and seeming to consider what she had said.
"I won't lie to you, Mystique. I've certainly thought about you a lot since you left. Maybe not in the early days, but once I was able to step back. I've thought about you a lot. I've wondered what I would do if you came back. How I would feel."
He moved his head slightly closer to hers until it seemed that his lips would brush hers. "And you know what? Now you're here, I still don't really know."
He stayed where he was, almost silently daring her to kiss him.
The stubborn, strong defiance in her voice counteracted her words. Her eyes never left his as she spoke, their breath mingling. "I could say I've felt the same."
"Leave your niceties for the little girl. You don't have to protect me from yourself, and you know you don't want protection from me." The tip of her tongue grazed his bottom lip.
"You know I had nothing to do with your breakdown. We were exorcising our demons on one another- nothing more…" She looked down his body and back up again, her whole body tingling. "..nothing less."
Her voice fell to a whisper. "People like us don't deny ourselves these things in order to stay strong. We embrace them –because- we are strong." The dare was thrown back in his face, her eyes reflecting the fire between them.
This close up, she could feel that strange, unnatural heat that radiated from him. He looked into her yellow eyes, his own eyes reflecting nothing at all of his inner turmoil. He didn't know what she expected of him at this point. He didn't know whether this was the point at which he was meant to give in to the screaming basic instinct that told him to act on impulse and kiss her. He didn't know whether he would score more points by walking away.
So he went for the middle ground.
"We ARE strong, Mystique," he said, his breath warm on her face. "And I have got stronger." He caught hold of her hands, raised them to his lips and kissed them. "I'm not the child you left behind. I'm not fully a man yet, either, but I'm getting there."
So speaking, he bowed his head in what was clearly a gesture, an acknowledgement of her superiority, let go of her hands and jumped down off the outcrop. "I have work to be getting on with," he said. "I'd appreciate it if you could come and give me any further information you have on Sombra as soon as you are able."
Mystique looked out at the ocean, something close to hatred lacing across her features. How was it he was able to make her love him, and hate herself all at the same time.
As he turned away, she pivoted with him, and grasped his wrist. Pulling him hard so that he was forced to spin back and face her, her fingers tightened on him and she glared at him, a tremor in her voice as she spoke through her teeth.
"Say yes, or say no. No more games." It destroyed them once, and could have brought the Brotherhood down as well. She couldn't sacrifice the cause for him, and wouldn't let him do so. So there it was, on her eyes if not in her voice, her question. They didn't need discussions, confessions, or even gentle words. They needed each other.
But she'd do without, if he asked her to.
Her grip on his wrist was painful and his first instinct was to pull away from her. He glared right back at her as she called her ultimatum.
Say yes or say no.
With a surprising show of strength, he shook her wrist free of his arm and caught hold of her face between his hands. He leaned in and kissed her firmly on the lips, a kiss laced with the passion he'd felt for her since he'd first met her.
The thought sprang into his mind that it was like the kiss he'd written about in that gangster story, and the idea sent a thrill through him.
It went on for a moment, then he broke the kiss.
"There's your answer," he said, softly. "No more games."
Closing her eyes, John could not mistake the relief in her sigh as she kissed him once more, just to let it linger on a bit more. She had missed him so much. Far more than she had admitted to herself.
Laughing softly as her forehead touched his, Mystique ran her hands down his sides.
"About that information you wanted…."
Stopping by the security room doorway, she peeked in at Gill. A firm smile on her lips, she greeted him affectionately. "Hey Gill. Where's Pyro?" She nodded to the cameras.
Mystique had decided for the sake of their newest recruits to don at very least a pair of black patent leather shorts and a square-necked sleeveless top to match. As she stalked down the hall, stretching her arms above her with a short yawn, she thought perhaps it would become a habit, if an illusory one.
Stopping by the security room doorway, she peeked in at Gill. A firm smile on her lips, she greeted him affectionately. "Hey Gill. Where's Pyro?" She nodded to the cameras.
He looked up at her and nodded. "Mystique," he said, in his quasi-Jamaican accent. "It's good t'see you again. You lookin' good there, girl." He flipped a few switches and did a quick reconnaisance of the monitors. "Looks like he be down at the cove - he did say somethin' about goin' swimmin'. By way of relaxin' a bit. He been doin' a lot of that sorta thing lately."
This seemed to amuse the fish-headed mutant for some reason. "Hope he remembered to take his trunks with him," he snorted, then calmed himself down. "Ya. He down at the cove."
She looked amused, and ran her fingers along the fin atop his head familiarly. "Thanks. It's good to be back."
Barefoot and silent, she made her way back down the hall and eventually, outside again. She couldn't blame Pyro for relaxing, though she wondered where his eyes had been these last few weeks. If he was taking a little time off, so be it. Their numbers were steadily increasing so it wasn't as if they were stagnant. But it was a change from Eric, who seemed never to rest until the next plan was hatched. They had always been similar in that way.
The sand was soft until she reached the shore, and she slipped behind tall palm trees, watching him before he caught sight of her. Climbing quickly to the top of a large rock outcropping, she lay on her stomach and watched him from above, chin perched on her hands, red hair waving like a flag out from her blue shoulders.
The boy could be frightfully oblivious at times.
He had woken up that morning with a pounding headache. Emma had said to him that if he started getting headaches, it was a sign he should take an hour or two out to chill a little, relax, quite literally pull his head back together. He'd chosen to go swimming because it was peaceful. It had done the trick, too: the headache had subsided.
It hadn't completely gone away yet, but it was definitely a headache in retreat.
Pyro didn't swim particularly well and was sort of floating about in waist-depth crystal clear waters, his eyes closed, enjoying the moment of solitude.
In the way that the subconscious has, however, he gradually became aware that he might not have been as alone as he had thought. His eyes cracked open and he looked up the shoreline. Nobody there. His eyes lifted to the outcropping and met Mystique's gaze looking down at him.
A smile flickered briefly across his face and he waded out of the ocean to grab the towel he'd left on the beach.
Watching him with vigilant golden eyes, her expression was a touch dangerous, much more like the Mystique he met the day she first returned to Genosha.
"I didn't mean to disturb you."
"It's fine," he asserted, pulling on a t-shirt and a pair of combats over his shorts. "I was turning into a prune anyway. Good cue to get my ass out the water." He towelled at his hair. It had grown so much since she'd left. He looked very different.
Whilst at the same time very much the same.
He headed towards the outcropping on bare feet. "What can I do for you?"
"That's a loaded question, Pyro." She smirked.
Reaching down with a long arm she touched his forehead with the tips of her fingers, nudging wet hair to the side. "It's good to see you relaxing."
"And since when do I need something from you to seek you out."
Her fingers on his forehead sent a wash of confused and mixed feelings through him, although outwardly he remained as cool and composed as he seemed to have become. "I had a headache," he said. "Emma told me to take it easy when I got headaches, so I thought I'd take an hour out. I haven't forgotten what we talked about last night. Sombra."
Almost shyly, he tucked a lock of wet hair behind one ear.
"I'm just in the habit of people coming to find me specifically for a reason lately. There's always something. Although Angie..." He broke off, and shook his head. "She's a good person to talk to," he murmured, vaguely.
He climbed the outcropping so that he was sitting on a rock a couple down from where she was.
"I love Genosha at times," he said, softly. "It's a beautiful place. But I'm definitely going stir-crazy here. I'm...uh...hoping to speak to Python later. Gonna tell him that I'm leaving for New York and then Sombra."
Tell, not ask. How assertive.
She was quiet, taking in his speech patterns, his body language. Something was going on with Angie, and she had little doubt if it was anything related to the brotherhood, Pyro would have spilled the information without a second thought. But he hadn't. So there was something else there.
There was only one thing to be done about that.
"I'm unsure we'll be able to move on Sombra quickly." She said. "But I will do my best."
"What is going on with Angela."
The question took him by surprise and he looked round at her. "What do you mean, 'what's going on'? There's nothing 'going on' with her other than she spends a lot of time listening to me getting stuff off my chest. You know how hard it's been for me to ... y'know. Open up to people."
He ran his fingers through his damp hair. "I...think - don't quote me on this, but I THINK that she might have hopes it'll go further. But it's not going to happen. Not 'cos I don't like her or anything, 'cos I do, she's a great girl. It's just..."
Pyro sighed heavily and stared out to sea, searching for the words.
"I don't want to mess people about any more. Not myself, not Kitty, not Angie..." He looked up at her again. "Not you. I'm not capable of handling any sort of relationship, I made that pretty obvious, didn't I? So best to steer clear."
Mystique smiled. "Are you playing the 'I'll only break your heart' card, Pyro?" It was definitely a little condescending.
"You're entirely too nice."
"I'm not playing any cards," he said, defensively. "And there's nothing nice about it. Someone told me once that I should never let thinking about a girl or...or a woman...distract me from what was important. I'm being entirely selfish here, Mystique. I can't afford to have another breakdown."
There it was, the word he'd avoided using in front of her.
"I've been working hard," he said, ploughing on regardless. "And I'm not gonna let it all come crashing down because my head's full of love and emotions and schmaltz. Like Bobby's always was. It was always 'Rogue this', 'Rogue that'. Well, it ain't gonna happen to this cat, lady."
There was a pause.
"I hope you can at least see that changes have been made. That things are starting to get different."
She sat up slowly, her shoulders forward a bit. Pyro hadn't been around long enough to know the subtle interplay of body language that many mutants displayed even more pronouncedly than humans. If he had, he'd see the predatory lean in her as she spoke.
"Are you wanting to impress me with the changes you have made Pyro?" She hopped down fluidly from the rock, standing in front of him with on hand above her, leaning on the outcropping. "Or set me at ease." Her eyes challenged him. "Or try to convince me you haven't been thinking about me every moment of every day since I left." There was no softness in her voice though that smooth, even rhythm could never be taken from her. Even that could be taunting.
He stood - well, sat - his ground when she came closer. His eyes automatically flickered down the line of her fantastic body - he was, after all, only male. "I'm not trying to impress you," he said, keeping his tone cool. His heart, however, was pounding so loudly in his ears that he wondered if she could actually hear it. "And only you know whether you're at ease."
Then he stood up too, tipping his head slightly on one side and seeming to consider what she had said.
"I won't lie to you, Mystique. I've certainly thought about you a lot since you left. Maybe not in the early days, but once I was able to step back. I've thought about you a lot. I've wondered what I would do if you came back. How I would feel."
He moved his head slightly closer to hers until it seemed that his lips would brush hers. "And you know what? Now you're here, I still don't really know."
He stayed where he was, almost silently daring her to kiss him.
The stubborn, strong defiance in her voice counteracted her words. Her eyes never left his as she spoke, their breath mingling. "I could say I've felt the same."
"Leave your niceties for the little girl. You don't have to protect me from yourself, and you know you don't want protection from me." The tip of her tongue grazed his bottom lip.
"You know I had nothing to do with your breakdown. We were exorcising our demons on one another- nothing more…" She looked down his body and back up again, her whole body tingling. "..nothing less."
Her voice fell to a whisper. "People like us don't deny ourselves these things in order to stay strong. We embrace them –because- we are strong." The dare was thrown back in his face, her eyes reflecting the fire between them.
This close up, she could feel that strange, unnatural heat that radiated from him. He looked into her yellow eyes, his own eyes reflecting nothing at all of his inner turmoil. He didn't know what she expected of him at this point. He didn't know whether this was the point at which he was meant to give in to the screaming basic instinct that told him to act on impulse and kiss her. He didn't know whether he would score more points by walking away.
So he went for the middle ground.
"We ARE strong, Mystique," he said, his breath warm on her face. "And I have got stronger." He caught hold of her hands, raised them to his lips and kissed them. "I'm not the child you left behind. I'm not fully a man yet, either, but I'm getting there."
So speaking, he bowed his head in what was clearly a gesture, an acknowledgement of her superiority, let go of her hands and jumped down off the outcrop. "I have work to be getting on with," he said. "I'd appreciate it if you could come and give me any further information you have on Sombra as soon as you are able."
Mystique looked out at the ocean, something close to hatred lacing across her features. How was it he was able to make her love him, and hate herself all at the same time.
As he turned away, she pivoted with him, and grasped his wrist. Pulling him hard so that he was forced to spin back and face her, her fingers tightened on him and she glared at him, a tremor in her voice as she spoke through her teeth.
"Say yes, or say no. No more games." It destroyed them once, and could have brought the Brotherhood down as well. She couldn't sacrifice the cause for him, and wouldn't let him do so. So there it was, on her eyes if not in her voice, her question. They didn't need discussions, confessions, or even gentle words. They needed each other.
But she'd do without, if he asked her to.
Her grip on his wrist was painful and his first instinct was to pull away from her. He glared right back at her as she called her ultimatum.
Say yes or say no.
With a surprising show of strength, he shook her wrist free of his arm and caught hold of her face between his hands. He leaned in and kissed her firmly on the lips, a kiss laced with the passion he'd felt for her since he'd first met her.
The thought sprang into his mind that it was like the kiss he'd written about in that gangster story, and the idea sent a thrill through him.
It went on for a moment, then he broke the kiss.
"There's your answer," he said, softly. "No more games."
Closing her eyes, John could not mistake the relief in her sigh as she kissed him once more, just to let it linger on a bit more. She had missed him so much. Far more than she had admitted to herself.
Laughing softly as her forehead touched his, Mystique ran her hands down his sides.
"About that information you wanted…."
