Post by Iceman on Jul 5, 2006 16:05:07 GMT -5
“What the hell is a Danger Room when it’s at home?” John felt faintly self-conscious dressed in the leather training suit. He’d protested most vociferously when he’d been told that if he wanted to learn to harness his quite considerable power, he’d have to practice. And practice meant wearing this bloody Chesterfield sofa with red piping.
He flicked his lighter on and off irritably. He was still several nights sleep deprived, not having rested properly since the night of what had become known as the Curtains Incident.
Bobby shrugged his shoulders, though John's comment had cracked a grin on his face. "Guess 'Practice Room' didn't sound cool enough." He came to a stop beside John in the long, lighted hallway that had always struck him as being very futuristic-looking. "It's fun--like the most realistic virtual video game you could ever ask for."
Bobby stepped up to a small keyboard that protruded from the wall. Above it was a blank screen. As soon as Bobby began to input numbers, the screen came to life. Once he typed the code he'd written on the palm of his hand into the computer, a list of Danger Room situations came up. All but one were locked. "Looks like we're doing this one." He said under his breath as he selected it and hit enter.
"Danger Room Sequence Number Three Five Five Four Zero Initiated," came a female computerized voice, and the door unlatched.
As the door slid open, Bobby hurried inside. "It'll give us about thirty seconds to get situated," he said over his shoulder as he watched the faint outlines of whatever surroundings the Danger Room had in store for them begin to form.
“Danger Room?” repeated John, aware he sounded faintly stupid as he did so. The words, however, slid from his lips as the gun metal gray of the room he and Bobby were in melted away and became what could only be described as a war zone, plain and simple.
John reacted in the way most people did the first time the entered the Danger Room.
“Holy FUCK!”
Bobby didn't even hear John's reaction; he was staring in apprehensive surprise at the scene that appeared before them. The air was smoky, or dusty, or something. Barbed wire trailed across the ground in places. And there were not enough places to hide for Bobby's comfort. He'd been in the Danger Room many times before, but each time he was surprised at the realistic and yet unreal situations.
There was something large enough to hide behind nearby, and Bobby didn't even examine it to see what exactly it was. He ran to it and ducked down. "Let's try not to lose sight of each other." He said as quietly as he could and still have John hear him. He cocked his head, listening for the first signs of movement.
When Bobby ran to hide, John stared at him, then over at the distant sound of gunfire. He looked between the two for a while, then shaking his head, joined his roommate behind what was, on closer inspection, a hastily and badly made barricade.
“You want to try explaining this to me?” he said, and there was the tiniest hint of anger in his voice. The Zippo was already in his hand.
Bobby listened this time. He would have smiled at John's tone, but he was feeling a bit nervous himself about facing whatever foes the Room had in store for them. "These are solid holographs. So, uh, use them like they're real...And, uh...Of course you can't die. Well, you can die--it just ends the simulation. And it'll probably sting a little when you get hit, depending on what kind of weapons--"
All conversation was cut short as there was an explosion, and chunks of the top of the barricade flew over their heads. The timing was ironic, but neither found it funny. Bobby fell to his knees, covering his neck and head as chunks of wood and concrete fell around them.
John’s reactions were purely instinctive. He’d spent long enough on the streets to always be on the defensive and now he flicked his Zippo into life, scooping the flame into his hand and balling it like a projectile weapon. His face took on a grim, serious expression.
“Right, we need to establish exactly what we’re up against. Out on the streets, you never got into a fight unless you sized up the opposition first.” This was what Xavier had seen in John. The potential leadership quality.
As soon as the debris stopped fighting, Bobby stood again. He pressed his back flat against the barricade. Men were shouting, not too far off. "Something human--well, or mutant."
Bobby turned and looked around the barricade. For just a second. But even as he was pulling his head back, a shot fired. The sound--knowing it was meant for him--put a tight grip on his chest. "Ninjas." He said decidedly.
John stared.
John blinked.
John stared a little more.
Then John laughed. “Man, that’s SO cliché,” he said. “Ninjas. Right, well, we can take care of them. They might be ninja and well versed in the ancient martial art of No-Kan-Du or whatever, but that sure as hell doesn’t stop them being flammable.”
Bobby managed a grin at John's comment. "There's a foxhole. I'll, uh..." Hard to formulate a complex plan in the moment. He tilted his head and half-shrugged. "Run for it? ...And shoot at 'em."
He didn't leave time for discussion. The next second, he was off and racing for the foxhole. As soon as he was in sight, shot began firing. 'Ninjas carry guns now?!' flashed through his mind, but he didn't dwell on it. He held his arm out and immediately directed a beam of ice to shower from his palm. When he began to hear guns firing, he crouched low and rolled on the floor, which he found was bare, hard ground. He turned his head away from the attackers and lifted his hands. A barricade of ice just large enough to protect him formed quickly before his hands. He heard a number of small thuds as bullets hit the ice.
Looking in the direction of the foxhole, Bobby slid his hands along the ice. Ice continued to form as he stretched out his hands, but it wasn't forming fast enough for him to run for it and have the protective barrier between himself and the gunmen. "Shit," he muttered. So he had to move much more slowly than he would have liked, and as he moved along, the attackers were getting dangerously close.
Whilst Bobby was so engaged, his partner was taking an entirely unprecedented and unconventional route to solving the problem.
A sudden streamer of flame shot literally past Bobby’s right ear followed by another, then another, then another, until they were surrounded by a wall of flame. The young man whooped joyfully.
“That should give ‘em something to think about for a few moments,” he said, grinning infectiously from ear to ear. Having so said, he came out fully from behind the barricade where he had started. Bobby’s protective ice wall was already starting to melt in the intense blaze.
Bobby dodged away from the flames, which were much too close for his liking. It took him a few moments to realize that it had been John's doing, and he stood. He looked back to John, who looked different in the heat of the flames, which distorted everything. He nodded once, and then turned and covered the remaining distance to the foxhole. He didn't jump in yet, but took the moment to look farther to the right, to see what other hiding places they had. If he could get around to the side of the group of foes...But that was assuming that they were grouped together. Which was unlikely. Bobby stood at the edge of the foxhole, prepared to jump in if John's fire seemed to be dying or the ninjas found a way around it.
John didn_t notice what Bobby was doing. He_d moved on to the second part of his plan.
He started taunted the attackers, shouting abuse through the flames and loosing the occasional fireball out through the wall. Hardly the most grown up approach _ but surprisingly, it seemed to be holding the ninjas at bay.
Bobby looked over at John. He seemed to be doing well in his first try at the Danger Room. His fire was of good use, but Bobby found himself unable to to do anything as long as he was blocked by the fire--his beam of ice would melt, and shooting water at them wouldn't do any good. And anything large he could produce would put out the fire, which also wasn't a good thing.
So, without thinking, Bobby made a break for a barricade ahead. He was suprised that he wasn't shot at until he was behind the barricade. He then moved quickly to the other side and moved out from behind it. He caught sight of a few ninjas that were farther back, closer to him, and he let loose a stream of ice.
He managed to hit the first one in the face, probably crushing his skull. He then moved his arm just enough, staring down it like the scope of a gun, so that the ice swept over another masked fighter, who stumbled and fell to his knees. Bobby ducked back behind the barricade and let go of the breath he'd been holding since he'd started running.
It was then that Bobby discovered the fatal problem with John’s powers.
The sudden movement of his running to dive behind the barricade caused John’s attention to divert briefly from concentration on his fire wall, which almost immediately wavered and began to subside. It was the moment the attackers had been waiting for.
“Damn, damn, DAMN!” John immediately turned to fire more streamers at the dying wall, to get it back up to strength and intensity, but it was too late. The attackers were through.
The first bullet zipped past his ear, making him tingle slightly and he grimly began shooting fireball after fireball at the attackers. But still he didn’t try to hide.
Bobby looked around the side of the barricade, glancing only for a moment at John's firewall before he intended to aim at a few more ninjas. But he saw with surprise that much of the fire had gone out, and that about eight ninjas were moving quickly toward John.
Bobby jumped out from behind the barricade and started running at the group, without thinking about stealth...Or common sense. As he moved, he aimed and shot ice from his open hand, pummelling one of them in the back and causing him to fall face-first into the dirt. He soon was within combat range. Their foes had mostly given up on the guns, now that they were in close range. On of them turned on Bobby, something metal gleaming in his hand. It was some kind of dagger. Bobby dodged as the man sliced the air where his throat had been. Bobby then grabbed the man's arm as he shot up.
The asshole grabbed Bobby's throat with his free hand, with a deathly tight grip. Bobby's skin began to pale, until he looked deathly sick. His lips and fingers turned blue as the blood left them. Frost formed and clung to his hair and eyelashes and eyebrows. The man let go, and his hand where it had touched Bobby's neck was frozen as well. He began to struggle to free himself from Bobby's grasp and move back where he couldn't get hold of him.
For his part, John was attacking viciously and almost in a blind panic, not really paying full attention to what was happening. And he was totally oblivious to the trio of ninjas approaching him on his blindside.
As the frostbitten ninja stumbled back, a few moved forward. Bobby moved back quickly, shooting his trusty ice beam at them, chest-high. It would keep them at bay for long enough. He glanced in John's direction, and saw that he was dealing with five ninjas. No. He was dealing with two. He didn't even turn to look at the other three as they came dangerously close to him.
"JOHN!" Bobby yelled as loud as he could. Without thinking that he was already shooting from his left hand, Bobby lifted his right hand and sent chunks of ice like bullets at rapid speed at the three ninjas that John hadn't realized were sneaking up on him. He'd never tried forming ice with both hands at the same time before, and he didn't know if he could do it. Both hands sent ice flying, but Bobby quickly realized that what would keep him from this was concentration. It was almost impossible to keep both tasks going at once, most prominently because he couldn't look to aim in both directions at once. He looked back and forth, and then glanced at John--had he heard his yell?
If John had heard Bobby, he gave no sign of having done so. He continued loosing his fireball, a maniacal gleam in his eye, a disturbingly crazy laugh on his lips. Much to Bobby_s sudden surprise, the young man whirled round and let a volley of fireballs loose on the incoming attackers. One fireball went straight past and landed right at Bobby_s feet.
John continued to remain oblivious to everything outside the circle of his powers.
XXxFyreByrdxXx [6:17 PM]: (Before I brb: do you want to start a thread somewhere about recieving the message, or just start with calling Jeanne? Or should I post something first? Okay now brbing lol)
AndersGrimalkin [6:17 PM]: (LOL - I'll have John stop concentrating so hard on his work and actually go check his voicemail)
XXxFyreByrdxXx [6:58 PM]: Bobby was frustrated to see that John's hadn't heard him. He was also struck by the almost possessed look John had about him--he looked like he was enjoying frying their enemies way too much. When a fireball landed at Bobby's feet, he dodged away from it, beginning to become thoroughly annoyed at John's not only inattentiveness, but the fact that he was taking no aim. That could easily have hit him.
Bobby stopped his half-hearted attempt to help John out, now that at least one of the three ninjas that had been sneaking up on John was now a walking fireball--well, not walking so much as writhing and screaming. Bobby turned his focus on the ones he'd been keeping at bay. He held out his hands, having to back up as the ninjas came at him. The air in front of his hands grew extremely cold, and ice crystals began to form in the air. Soon, there was a shield of ice between his hands, and as a ninja threw a punch at it, he cried out as he felt his hand break against the ice.
The shield enlarged until it got to the ground, and from there it began to form a solid wall. Bobby continued to back up, moving away from the still-growing wall. He turned his head to see how John was doing with the other ninjas.
Suddenly, he felt a sharp stinging sensation on his back, by his right shoulder blade. He yelled as he staggered forward, throwing his hands out to keep from hitting the ground. It didn't hurt like a bullet rightfully would, but it wasn't like a soft hit one could just shake off.
The sudden yell totally and utterly threw what little concentration John had left out of the window and he whirled around to directly face Bobby, his palms outstretched. What happened next happened ridiculously fast, but felt like it took an absolute age.
John’s green eyes were wide and - for want of a better word, totally insane. He let rip with the most gut-wrenching laugh that Bobby had ever heard, and he loosed a fireball directly in Bobby’s direction.
Milliseconds later, the two ninjas behind him fired. Two enormous magenta paint splotches appeared on John’s uniform and his face contorted with the brief pain the paintballs caused, fired from such proximity. The computer stated, in an almost infuriatingly prim voice; ”User: Pyro - you are now dead. Please leave the simulation.”
“Hell, no,” said John, sweat pouring down his face. “I’m just getting STARTED!”
Bobby heard a cold, twisted laugh that he almost couldn't believe had come from John. He looked up and caught a split second glimpse of Pyro aiming at him--he didn't even have time to register that he was aiming at him, at his ally. The next second, every inch of Bobby's bare skin--his head, his neck, his hands--was consumed in the most intense pain he had ever experienced. That which was covered by the leather uniform was scorching hot as the fire burned the leather. In that second, Bobby dropped to the ground, his hands immediately on his face and head. Tortured screams erupted from his throat as he writhed on the ground.
An alarm began to sound from overhead and all around, and almost immediately the scene began to flicker and come apart. The barricades and frozen enemies turned into faint outlines. All sounds of war disappeared, leaving only the fire and Bobby's screams.
As Bobby gripped his head and face, his hands clawing at his skin, the fizzling sound of fire being put out began to be heard. Smoke began to rise from him. He'd subconsciously drawn the moisture from the air and as his hands moved over his skin, water was dousing him.
The loss of enemies to fight pulled John back down to earth with a particularly sickening thud and it took him a fraction of a second to pull back his focus and withdraw the remainder of the flame from Bobby. He stood there, his eyes huge and confused, not knowing what to say, knowing only that he had lost control.
Again.
It took Bobby a moment to realize that all of the fire was gone, though the leather was still scorchingly hot. When he did realize it, he let his head fall back onto the ground with a thud. His chest heaved as he gulped breaths down. His temperature had been extremely low before being set fire to, which had been the only thing that had saved the frosted hair on his head, and his eyebrows and eyelashes, from being completely burnt off.
The fire was gone, but it had left it's mark and it's pain. Bobby's skin was bright red and blotchy. He was afraid to move, and so laid there moaning from the pain of it all. The alarm was still sounding, and the room had once again become the large, empty metal room.
John, who hadn't really come through the other side of his moment of craziness stared blankly at Bobby and stared around at the sound of the alarm.
Things happened. People began to rush in, confusing John who was unfocused and out of sorts. He refused to allow anybody anywhere near him and couldn't form a coherent sentence to explain what had happened. At some point he made the connection that Bobby's condition was his fault and he pushed his way through to kneel down next to his stricken friend.
"Bobby...Bobby, it's me...GOD, I'm sorry..."
Bobby's eyes opened, his brow knit fiercely. He took a long breath, the air hissing as it passed his clenched jaw. "What..." His voice was barely a whisper as he paused for another labored breath and continued. "...Were you--thinking?"
At that point, staff and others crowded around, preventing any further conversation between the two. Within five minutes, paramedics arrived, and loaded him onto a stretcher and carried him out of the room. Bobby was silent as all of this went on, his eyes closed and every fiber of his brain concentrating on not moving a muscle, as every small movement made his body scream with pain.
He flicked his lighter on and off irritably. He was still several nights sleep deprived, not having rested properly since the night of what had become known as the Curtains Incident.
Bobby shrugged his shoulders, though John's comment had cracked a grin on his face. "Guess 'Practice Room' didn't sound cool enough." He came to a stop beside John in the long, lighted hallway that had always struck him as being very futuristic-looking. "It's fun--like the most realistic virtual video game you could ever ask for."
Bobby stepped up to a small keyboard that protruded from the wall. Above it was a blank screen. As soon as Bobby began to input numbers, the screen came to life. Once he typed the code he'd written on the palm of his hand into the computer, a list of Danger Room situations came up. All but one were locked. "Looks like we're doing this one." He said under his breath as he selected it and hit enter.
"Danger Room Sequence Number Three Five Five Four Zero Initiated," came a female computerized voice, and the door unlatched.
As the door slid open, Bobby hurried inside. "It'll give us about thirty seconds to get situated," he said over his shoulder as he watched the faint outlines of whatever surroundings the Danger Room had in store for them begin to form.
“Danger Room?” repeated John, aware he sounded faintly stupid as he did so. The words, however, slid from his lips as the gun metal gray of the room he and Bobby were in melted away and became what could only be described as a war zone, plain and simple.
John reacted in the way most people did the first time the entered the Danger Room.
“Holy FUCK!”
Bobby didn't even hear John's reaction; he was staring in apprehensive surprise at the scene that appeared before them. The air was smoky, or dusty, or something. Barbed wire trailed across the ground in places. And there were not enough places to hide for Bobby's comfort. He'd been in the Danger Room many times before, but each time he was surprised at the realistic and yet unreal situations.
There was something large enough to hide behind nearby, and Bobby didn't even examine it to see what exactly it was. He ran to it and ducked down. "Let's try not to lose sight of each other." He said as quietly as he could and still have John hear him. He cocked his head, listening for the first signs of movement.
When Bobby ran to hide, John stared at him, then over at the distant sound of gunfire. He looked between the two for a while, then shaking his head, joined his roommate behind what was, on closer inspection, a hastily and badly made barricade.
“You want to try explaining this to me?” he said, and there was the tiniest hint of anger in his voice. The Zippo was already in his hand.
Bobby listened this time. He would have smiled at John's tone, but he was feeling a bit nervous himself about facing whatever foes the Room had in store for them. "These are solid holographs. So, uh, use them like they're real...And, uh...Of course you can't die. Well, you can die--it just ends the simulation. And it'll probably sting a little when you get hit, depending on what kind of weapons--"
All conversation was cut short as there was an explosion, and chunks of the top of the barricade flew over their heads. The timing was ironic, but neither found it funny. Bobby fell to his knees, covering his neck and head as chunks of wood and concrete fell around them.
John’s reactions were purely instinctive. He’d spent long enough on the streets to always be on the defensive and now he flicked his Zippo into life, scooping the flame into his hand and balling it like a projectile weapon. His face took on a grim, serious expression.
“Right, we need to establish exactly what we’re up against. Out on the streets, you never got into a fight unless you sized up the opposition first.” This was what Xavier had seen in John. The potential leadership quality.
As soon as the debris stopped fighting, Bobby stood again. He pressed his back flat against the barricade. Men were shouting, not too far off. "Something human--well, or mutant."
Bobby turned and looked around the barricade. For just a second. But even as he was pulling his head back, a shot fired. The sound--knowing it was meant for him--put a tight grip on his chest. "Ninjas." He said decidedly.
John stared.
John blinked.
John stared a little more.
Then John laughed. “Man, that’s SO cliché,” he said. “Ninjas. Right, well, we can take care of them. They might be ninja and well versed in the ancient martial art of No-Kan-Du or whatever, but that sure as hell doesn’t stop them being flammable.”
Bobby managed a grin at John's comment. "There's a foxhole. I'll, uh..." Hard to formulate a complex plan in the moment. He tilted his head and half-shrugged. "Run for it? ...And shoot at 'em."
He didn't leave time for discussion. The next second, he was off and racing for the foxhole. As soon as he was in sight, shot began firing. 'Ninjas carry guns now?!' flashed through his mind, but he didn't dwell on it. He held his arm out and immediately directed a beam of ice to shower from his palm. When he began to hear guns firing, he crouched low and rolled on the floor, which he found was bare, hard ground. He turned his head away from the attackers and lifted his hands. A barricade of ice just large enough to protect him formed quickly before his hands. He heard a number of small thuds as bullets hit the ice.
Looking in the direction of the foxhole, Bobby slid his hands along the ice. Ice continued to form as he stretched out his hands, but it wasn't forming fast enough for him to run for it and have the protective barrier between himself and the gunmen. "Shit," he muttered. So he had to move much more slowly than he would have liked, and as he moved along, the attackers were getting dangerously close.
Whilst Bobby was so engaged, his partner was taking an entirely unprecedented and unconventional route to solving the problem.
A sudden streamer of flame shot literally past Bobby’s right ear followed by another, then another, then another, until they were surrounded by a wall of flame. The young man whooped joyfully.
“That should give ‘em something to think about for a few moments,” he said, grinning infectiously from ear to ear. Having so said, he came out fully from behind the barricade where he had started. Bobby’s protective ice wall was already starting to melt in the intense blaze.
Bobby dodged away from the flames, which were much too close for his liking. It took him a few moments to realize that it had been John's doing, and he stood. He looked back to John, who looked different in the heat of the flames, which distorted everything. He nodded once, and then turned and covered the remaining distance to the foxhole. He didn't jump in yet, but took the moment to look farther to the right, to see what other hiding places they had. If he could get around to the side of the group of foes...But that was assuming that they were grouped together. Which was unlikely. Bobby stood at the edge of the foxhole, prepared to jump in if John's fire seemed to be dying or the ninjas found a way around it.
John didn_t notice what Bobby was doing. He_d moved on to the second part of his plan.
He started taunted the attackers, shouting abuse through the flames and loosing the occasional fireball out through the wall. Hardly the most grown up approach _ but surprisingly, it seemed to be holding the ninjas at bay.
Bobby looked over at John. He seemed to be doing well in his first try at the Danger Room. His fire was of good use, but Bobby found himself unable to to do anything as long as he was blocked by the fire--his beam of ice would melt, and shooting water at them wouldn't do any good. And anything large he could produce would put out the fire, which also wasn't a good thing.
So, without thinking, Bobby made a break for a barricade ahead. He was suprised that he wasn't shot at until he was behind the barricade. He then moved quickly to the other side and moved out from behind it. He caught sight of a few ninjas that were farther back, closer to him, and he let loose a stream of ice.
He managed to hit the first one in the face, probably crushing his skull. He then moved his arm just enough, staring down it like the scope of a gun, so that the ice swept over another masked fighter, who stumbled and fell to his knees. Bobby ducked back behind the barricade and let go of the breath he'd been holding since he'd started running.
It was then that Bobby discovered the fatal problem with John’s powers.
The sudden movement of his running to dive behind the barricade caused John’s attention to divert briefly from concentration on his fire wall, which almost immediately wavered and began to subside. It was the moment the attackers had been waiting for.
“Damn, damn, DAMN!” John immediately turned to fire more streamers at the dying wall, to get it back up to strength and intensity, but it was too late. The attackers were through.
The first bullet zipped past his ear, making him tingle slightly and he grimly began shooting fireball after fireball at the attackers. But still he didn’t try to hide.
Bobby looked around the side of the barricade, glancing only for a moment at John's firewall before he intended to aim at a few more ninjas. But he saw with surprise that much of the fire had gone out, and that about eight ninjas were moving quickly toward John.
Bobby jumped out from behind the barricade and started running at the group, without thinking about stealth...Or common sense. As he moved, he aimed and shot ice from his open hand, pummelling one of them in the back and causing him to fall face-first into the dirt. He soon was within combat range. Their foes had mostly given up on the guns, now that they were in close range. On of them turned on Bobby, something metal gleaming in his hand. It was some kind of dagger. Bobby dodged as the man sliced the air where his throat had been. Bobby then grabbed the man's arm as he shot up.
The asshole grabbed Bobby's throat with his free hand, with a deathly tight grip. Bobby's skin began to pale, until he looked deathly sick. His lips and fingers turned blue as the blood left them. Frost formed and clung to his hair and eyelashes and eyebrows. The man let go, and his hand where it had touched Bobby's neck was frozen as well. He began to struggle to free himself from Bobby's grasp and move back where he couldn't get hold of him.
For his part, John was attacking viciously and almost in a blind panic, not really paying full attention to what was happening. And he was totally oblivious to the trio of ninjas approaching him on his blindside.
As the frostbitten ninja stumbled back, a few moved forward. Bobby moved back quickly, shooting his trusty ice beam at them, chest-high. It would keep them at bay for long enough. He glanced in John's direction, and saw that he was dealing with five ninjas. No. He was dealing with two. He didn't even turn to look at the other three as they came dangerously close to him.
"JOHN!" Bobby yelled as loud as he could. Without thinking that he was already shooting from his left hand, Bobby lifted his right hand and sent chunks of ice like bullets at rapid speed at the three ninjas that John hadn't realized were sneaking up on him. He'd never tried forming ice with both hands at the same time before, and he didn't know if he could do it. Both hands sent ice flying, but Bobby quickly realized that what would keep him from this was concentration. It was almost impossible to keep both tasks going at once, most prominently because he couldn't look to aim in both directions at once. He looked back and forth, and then glanced at John--had he heard his yell?
If John had heard Bobby, he gave no sign of having done so. He continued loosing his fireball, a maniacal gleam in his eye, a disturbingly crazy laugh on his lips. Much to Bobby_s sudden surprise, the young man whirled round and let a volley of fireballs loose on the incoming attackers. One fireball went straight past and landed right at Bobby_s feet.
John continued to remain oblivious to everything outside the circle of his powers.
XXxFyreByrdxXx [6:17 PM]: (Before I brb: do you want to start a thread somewhere about recieving the message, or just start with calling Jeanne? Or should I post something first? Okay now brbing lol)
AndersGrimalkin [6:17 PM]: (LOL - I'll have John stop concentrating so hard on his work and actually go check his voicemail)
XXxFyreByrdxXx [6:58 PM]: Bobby was frustrated to see that John's hadn't heard him. He was also struck by the almost possessed look John had about him--he looked like he was enjoying frying their enemies way too much. When a fireball landed at Bobby's feet, he dodged away from it, beginning to become thoroughly annoyed at John's not only inattentiveness, but the fact that he was taking no aim. That could easily have hit him.
Bobby stopped his half-hearted attempt to help John out, now that at least one of the three ninjas that had been sneaking up on John was now a walking fireball--well, not walking so much as writhing and screaming. Bobby turned his focus on the ones he'd been keeping at bay. He held out his hands, having to back up as the ninjas came at him. The air in front of his hands grew extremely cold, and ice crystals began to form in the air. Soon, there was a shield of ice between his hands, and as a ninja threw a punch at it, he cried out as he felt his hand break against the ice.
The shield enlarged until it got to the ground, and from there it began to form a solid wall. Bobby continued to back up, moving away from the still-growing wall. He turned his head to see how John was doing with the other ninjas.
Suddenly, he felt a sharp stinging sensation on his back, by his right shoulder blade. He yelled as he staggered forward, throwing his hands out to keep from hitting the ground. It didn't hurt like a bullet rightfully would, but it wasn't like a soft hit one could just shake off.
The sudden yell totally and utterly threw what little concentration John had left out of the window and he whirled around to directly face Bobby, his palms outstretched. What happened next happened ridiculously fast, but felt like it took an absolute age.
John’s green eyes were wide and - for want of a better word, totally insane. He let rip with the most gut-wrenching laugh that Bobby had ever heard, and he loosed a fireball directly in Bobby’s direction.
Milliseconds later, the two ninjas behind him fired. Two enormous magenta paint splotches appeared on John’s uniform and his face contorted with the brief pain the paintballs caused, fired from such proximity. The computer stated, in an almost infuriatingly prim voice; ”User: Pyro - you are now dead. Please leave the simulation.”
“Hell, no,” said John, sweat pouring down his face. “I’m just getting STARTED!”
Bobby heard a cold, twisted laugh that he almost couldn't believe had come from John. He looked up and caught a split second glimpse of Pyro aiming at him--he didn't even have time to register that he was aiming at him, at his ally. The next second, every inch of Bobby's bare skin--his head, his neck, his hands--was consumed in the most intense pain he had ever experienced. That which was covered by the leather uniform was scorching hot as the fire burned the leather. In that second, Bobby dropped to the ground, his hands immediately on his face and head. Tortured screams erupted from his throat as he writhed on the ground.
An alarm began to sound from overhead and all around, and almost immediately the scene began to flicker and come apart. The barricades and frozen enemies turned into faint outlines. All sounds of war disappeared, leaving only the fire and Bobby's screams.
As Bobby gripped his head and face, his hands clawing at his skin, the fizzling sound of fire being put out began to be heard. Smoke began to rise from him. He'd subconsciously drawn the moisture from the air and as his hands moved over his skin, water was dousing him.
The loss of enemies to fight pulled John back down to earth with a particularly sickening thud and it took him a fraction of a second to pull back his focus and withdraw the remainder of the flame from Bobby. He stood there, his eyes huge and confused, not knowing what to say, knowing only that he had lost control.
Again.
It took Bobby a moment to realize that all of the fire was gone, though the leather was still scorchingly hot. When he did realize it, he let his head fall back onto the ground with a thud. His chest heaved as he gulped breaths down. His temperature had been extremely low before being set fire to, which had been the only thing that had saved the frosted hair on his head, and his eyebrows and eyelashes, from being completely burnt off.
The fire was gone, but it had left it's mark and it's pain. Bobby's skin was bright red and blotchy. He was afraid to move, and so laid there moaning from the pain of it all. The alarm was still sounding, and the room had once again become the large, empty metal room.
John, who hadn't really come through the other side of his moment of craziness stared blankly at Bobby and stared around at the sound of the alarm.
Things happened. People began to rush in, confusing John who was unfocused and out of sorts. He refused to allow anybody anywhere near him and couldn't form a coherent sentence to explain what had happened. At some point he made the connection that Bobby's condition was his fault and he pushed his way through to kneel down next to his stricken friend.
"Bobby...Bobby, it's me...GOD, I'm sorry..."
Bobby's eyes opened, his brow knit fiercely. He took a long breath, the air hissing as it passed his clenched jaw. "What..." His voice was barely a whisper as he paused for another labored breath and continued. "...Were you--thinking?"
At that point, staff and others crowded around, preventing any further conversation between the two. Within five minutes, paramedics arrived, and loaded him onto a stretcher and carried him out of the room. Bobby was silent as all of this went on, his eyes closed and every fiber of his brain concentrating on not moving a muscle, as every small movement made his body scream with pain.
