Post by Pyro on Aug 5, 2006 14:29:08 GMT -5
Timestamp: About two months before Pyro leaves the Institute for Magneto-infested waters
Ororo stood across the block from the burning building, unflinching in waves of intense heat that spread from the massive fire. Her legs were spread slightly apart and her arms were at her sides, but every muscle was ready for movement and her eyes were sharp.
No screams, though, issued from the building; no figures leapt from its windows; and Storm, surprisingly, was not bringing torrential rain down from the sky to quench the destructive flames.
Rather, she was watching John.
The young man was standing on the far side of the street, directly opposite the building. It had literally exploded in front of his eyes, glass and debris filling the air around him. He'd instinctively reached out with his powers and held back the blast zone of the fire, which had been a surprisingly impressive thing for a boy of his age and lack of training.
He stared at the building for a while, then he grinned.
Before Storm could stop him, the young mutant began haring towards the inferno, held one hand out in front of him as though he were 'tasting' the blaze, and it flared momentarily hotter and brighter.
"No, no, that's the wrong way," Storm heard him mutter. "Down. Turn the heat DOWN..."
He was moving ever closer, seemingly unafraid.
Storm's brow furrowed slightly at the renewed leaping of the flames, but Pyro's quiet words assured her that he was trying. She checked herself as she automatically began to raise one hand to gather rainclouds. There was still time. John was capable of controlling his powers, capable of quelling the blaze; it was a question of how much control he had over himself. This is what a Danger Room session was for - he wouldn't learn anything if she followed her instincts to save him. She waited.
The building was large and the flames were plentiful - more plentiful than anything John had ever tried to control before. He stopped his running at the entrance of the building and with what was an obvious effort gathered his thoughts and his powers and began to draw the essence, the heart of the fire into himself. He'd never been able to properly explain how he manipulated fire. He became fire.
Slowly, the flames began to dampen, licking around the young mutant but never touching him.
Storm nodded slightly, intently focused on the student's progress. Good, good, keep it down John, keep it down... This program was a challenge for Pyro, and she knew it. She was almost holding her breath.
But he was still taking too long, and the building was beginning to weaken. Storm's eyes flicked upwards as the roof tilted precariously. Tilted... tilted... and then...
She winced involuntarily and winked in the blaze of orange as it fell in with an earsplitting CRASH.
"Shit, shit SHIT!"
John dove out the way of the falling debris, both hands outstretched as he attempted to contain the fresh rush of flames. It was too much for him to cope with, however, and several streams of flame began spitting out of the core.
"SHIT!"
John got back to his feet, his face growing dark with anger as he tried to contain the fire. The more angry he got, however, the less the flames responded to his ministrations. Almost like disobedient children, they skittered away from him until the building erupted in a fresh burst of flame.
Storm took a few running steps forward the instant she reopened her eyes to see John diving from the flames. Her heart sank as she saw the telltale signs of his temper flare up, and raising one hand to the sky she yelled her student's codename.
"PYRO! CENTER! Remember yesterday's lesson! Back away for a moment if you need to, but don't lose control over yourself!!"
Making a conscious and difficult effort to plant her feet, she whispered fiercely to herself, blue eyes locked on the scene before her. "come on... come on John..."
John had given several considerable displays of power in the Danger Room and had shown massive potential - but his temper was the problem he faced now. Because when he lost his temper...
...like he was doing now...
...he lost control. And instead of becoming the flames, the flames took over him. They wanted to live, wanted to dance, wanted to survive - and that's exactly what they did. Pyro, unable to control his ability, stared helplessly as the building began to collapse.
"I can't!" he yelled. "I CAN'T!"
"YES YOU CAN!" Storm yelled back, infuriated at his giving up. But as they yelled, the flames were consuming the building... and spreading. They were spreading.
The hedges caught on fire. Sparks leapt into the trees lining the front walkway. And suddenly sparks were flying into the lawn... and John was standing, defeated and distracted by his own mind, on the lawn...
Storm gasped audibly this time and leapt into action. Her hands flew up towards the sky and her eyes took a glow of their own, bright white, blinding white... black clouds heavy with rain billowed over the sky and the air suddenly became humid.
A thunderclap sounded over the crackling of the fire as she sprinted towards John. "GET OUT! JOHN!"
The infernal kid was still struggling to rein the flare-up of his powers in every sense of the word and seemed totally oblivious to everything around him now. He had focus, it seemed, but it was uncontrolled, confused, scared - and it was causing the situation to grow increasingly critical.
Because the sparks had lit the lawn, and a sheet of flame was racing towards John.
Holograms or no, there was danger in this room. And Ororo Munroe would give everything to keep her students from harm, even if it meant they wouldn't learn their lesson...
Running flat-out across the street, she mounted into the air at breakneck speed and flashed by John, picking him up on her current as well as nearly strangling him with a protective arm. Her eyes glowed furiously white and with a deafening thunderclap, the rain unleashed from the clouds above them.
There was a sizzling noise as if from a thousand frying pans, and the golden flames slowly died down, first from the lawn and the trees, and then from the building, guttering and fizzling out in the torrential downpour.
Storm brought herself and her student slowly to the ground. It was only when they landed softly that she released her hold on his neck. He was soaked through.
She wasn't sure what she expected from him. Another student, perhaps, would have thanked her profusely. John merely began to shiver violently from the wet and the cold and glared at her.
"I could have handled it," he said. "You didn't have to do that."
Storm ignored him as she gazed at the sky. The rain petered out and her eyes slowly became blue again; she exhaled heavily and didn't bother to dry him off.
After a moment she looked at him. Firmly, imperiously even. "'Thank you, Ms. Munroe.'" She paused again, but he did not take up the prompt.
"Was that you 'handling it'? Or were you about to do something that I was not aware of?" She looked at him seriously, not mockingly, although her teeth were set.
"You'll never know now, will you? You literally rained on my parade." His eyes were blazing with the remnants of his loss of temper. "I just needed to make compensation for the backdraft..." He suddenly seemed to become aware that he was actually steaming gently with the rain and the heat he'd generated.
"Far out," he said, and giggled suddenly.
Ororo exhaled and closed her eyes with exasperation for a moment. When she opened them, she motioned for John to follow and began walking down the block. "End simulation!" she called into the air, and their environment disintegrated around them.
She turned to John as they neared the doorway. "When the roof came down, you yelled to me 'I can't.' I believe you can, and it seems -" she cocked an eyebrow - "you believe you can, but there is a roadblock somewhere in your potential energy. I believe this roadblock is your temper.
"Power and emotion are inherently connected." She spoke with long experience of dampening her own emotions, for fear of wreaking havoc on the weather. "I have told you this before and I will tell you again, when you lose control over the emotional output of your mind into your body, you lose control of your abilities, because they also are born of a mind-body connection. I believe you CAN control yourself, but I am afraid I do not believe today that you could have handled this any better after the point at which I saved you."
"You all underestimate me," said John, his tone sullen and sulky. "I'm better than you all think I am. But none of you ever let me use my powers for offensive manoeuvres. Why the hell not?" He had forgotten any respect, which oddly enough was unusual for him. Surly and foul tempered he may be, but he was well-spoken and polite to his elders.
Storm narrowed her eyes at him. "Why the hell not, MS. MUNROE." A little pop of lightning sounded from somewhere above them.
"Defense comes first. Then valiance. Then offence. You have not mastered controlling situations which put others in danger, do you expect us to allow you to create those situations yourself?"
She took a deep breath, trying to master her frustration and look pleasant. "That's enough for today, John. Day after tomorrow we will backtrack and work our way back up." She stepped towards the door.
"Yeah, whatever." John scowled. When he'd returned to the Institute after briefly running away, he'd promised Bobby that he'd try to get his powers trained properly. He hadn't taken into account the fact that he was totally impatient and wanted results faster than he was capable of achieving. He folded his arms across his chest.
"None of you trust me since what happened with Bobs, do you?"
He received no answer and in a foul mood, he stormed off, no doubt to throw one of his near-infamous sulks in a quiet corner somewhere.
They all underestimated him. One day, they’d regret that.
Ororo stood across the block from the burning building, unflinching in waves of intense heat that spread from the massive fire. Her legs were spread slightly apart and her arms were at her sides, but every muscle was ready for movement and her eyes were sharp.
No screams, though, issued from the building; no figures leapt from its windows; and Storm, surprisingly, was not bringing torrential rain down from the sky to quench the destructive flames.
Rather, she was watching John.
The young man was standing on the far side of the street, directly opposite the building. It had literally exploded in front of his eyes, glass and debris filling the air around him. He'd instinctively reached out with his powers and held back the blast zone of the fire, which had been a surprisingly impressive thing for a boy of his age and lack of training.
He stared at the building for a while, then he grinned.
Before Storm could stop him, the young mutant began haring towards the inferno, held one hand out in front of him as though he were 'tasting' the blaze, and it flared momentarily hotter and brighter.
"No, no, that's the wrong way," Storm heard him mutter. "Down. Turn the heat DOWN..."
He was moving ever closer, seemingly unafraid.
Storm's brow furrowed slightly at the renewed leaping of the flames, but Pyro's quiet words assured her that he was trying. She checked herself as she automatically began to raise one hand to gather rainclouds. There was still time. John was capable of controlling his powers, capable of quelling the blaze; it was a question of how much control he had over himself. This is what a Danger Room session was for - he wouldn't learn anything if she followed her instincts to save him. She waited.
The building was large and the flames were plentiful - more plentiful than anything John had ever tried to control before. He stopped his running at the entrance of the building and with what was an obvious effort gathered his thoughts and his powers and began to draw the essence, the heart of the fire into himself. He'd never been able to properly explain how he manipulated fire. He became fire.
Slowly, the flames began to dampen, licking around the young mutant but never touching him.
Storm nodded slightly, intently focused on the student's progress. Good, good, keep it down John, keep it down... This program was a challenge for Pyro, and she knew it. She was almost holding her breath.
But he was still taking too long, and the building was beginning to weaken. Storm's eyes flicked upwards as the roof tilted precariously. Tilted... tilted... and then...
She winced involuntarily and winked in the blaze of orange as it fell in with an earsplitting CRASH.
"Shit, shit SHIT!"
John dove out the way of the falling debris, both hands outstretched as he attempted to contain the fresh rush of flames. It was too much for him to cope with, however, and several streams of flame began spitting out of the core.
"SHIT!"
John got back to his feet, his face growing dark with anger as he tried to contain the fire. The more angry he got, however, the less the flames responded to his ministrations. Almost like disobedient children, they skittered away from him until the building erupted in a fresh burst of flame.
Storm took a few running steps forward the instant she reopened her eyes to see John diving from the flames. Her heart sank as she saw the telltale signs of his temper flare up, and raising one hand to the sky she yelled her student's codename.
"PYRO! CENTER! Remember yesterday's lesson! Back away for a moment if you need to, but don't lose control over yourself!!"
Making a conscious and difficult effort to plant her feet, she whispered fiercely to herself, blue eyes locked on the scene before her. "come on... come on John..."
John had given several considerable displays of power in the Danger Room and had shown massive potential - but his temper was the problem he faced now. Because when he lost his temper...
...like he was doing now...
...he lost control. And instead of becoming the flames, the flames took over him. They wanted to live, wanted to dance, wanted to survive - and that's exactly what they did. Pyro, unable to control his ability, stared helplessly as the building began to collapse.
"I can't!" he yelled. "I CAN'T!"
"YES YOU CAN!" Storm yelled back, infuriated at his giving up. But as they yelled, the flames were consuming the building... and spreading. They were spreading.
The hedges caught on fire. Sparks leapt into the trees lining the front walkway. And suddenly sparks were flying into the lawn... and John was standing, defeated and distracted by his own mind, on the lawn...
Storm gasped audibly this time and leapt into action. Her hands flew up towards the sky and her eyes took a glow of their own, bright white, blinding white... black clouds heavy with rain billowed over the sky and the air suddenly became humid.
A thunderclap sounded over the crackling of the fire as she sprinted towards John. "GET OUT! JOHN!"
The infernal kid was still struggling to rein the flare-up of his powers in every sense of the word and seemed totally oblivious to everything around him now. He had focus, it seemed, but it was uncontrolled, confused, scared - and it was causing the situation to grow increasingly critical.
Because the sparks had lit the lawn, and a sheet of flame was racing towards John.
Holograms or no, there was danger in this room. And Ororo Munroe would give everything to keep her students from harm, even if it meant they wouldn't learn their lesson...
Running flat-out across the street, she mounted into the air at breakneck speed and flashed by John, picking him up on her current as well as nearly strangling him with a protective arm. Her eyes glowed furiously white and with a deafening thunderclap, the rain unleashed from the clouds above them.
There was a sizzling noise as if from a thousand frying pans, and the golden flames slowly died down, first from the lawn and the trees, and then from the building, guttering and fizzling out in the torrential downpour.
Storm brought herself and her student slowly to the ground. It was only when they landed softly that she released her hold on his neck. He was soaked through.
She wasn't sure what she expected from him. Another student, perhaps, would have thanked her profusely. John merely began to shiver violently from the wet and the cold and glared at her.
"I could have handled it," he said. "You didn't have to do that."
Storm ignored him as she gazed at the sky. The rain petered out and her eyes slowly became blue again; she exhaled heavily and didn't bother to dry him off.
After a moment she looked at him. Firmly, imperiously even. "'Thank you, Ms. Munroe.'" She paused again, but he did not take up the prompt.
"Was that you 'handling it'? Or were you about to do something that I was not aware of?" She looked at him seriously, not mockingly, although her teeth were set.
"You'll never know now, will you? You literally rained on my parade." His eyes were blazing with the remnants of his loss of temper. "I just needed to make compensation for the backdraft..." He suddenly seemed to become aware that he was actually steaming gently with the rain and the heat he'd generated.
"Far out," he said, and giggled suddenly.
Ororo exhaled and closed her eyes with exasperation for a moment. When she opened them, she motioned for John to follow and began walking down the block. "End simulation!" she called into the air, and their environment disintegrated around them.
She turned to John as they neared the doorway. "When the roof came down, you yelled to me 'I can't.' I believe you can, and it seems -" she cocked an eyebrow - "you believe you can, but there is a roadblock somewhere in your potential energy. I believe this roadblock is your temper.
"Power and emotion are inherently connected." She spoke with long experience of dampening her own emotions, for fear of wreaking havoc on the weather. "I have told you this before and I will tell you again, when you lose control over the emotional output of your mind into your body, you lose control of your abilities, because they also are born of a mind-body connection. I believe you CAN control yourself, but I am afraid I do not believe today that you could have handled this any better after the point at which I saved you."
"You all underestimate me," said John, his tone sullen and sulky. "I'm better than you all think I am. But none of you ever let me use my powers for offensive manoeuvres. Why the hell not?" He had forgotten any respect, which oddly enough was unusual for him. Surly and foul tempered he may be, but he was well-spoken and polite to his elders.
Storm narrowed her eyes at him. "Why the hell not, MS. MUNROE." A little pop of lightning sounded from somewhere above them.
"Defense comes first. Then valiance. Then offence. You have not mastered controlling situations which put others in danger, do you expect us to allow you to create those situations yourself?"
She took a deep breath, trying to master her frustration and look pleasant. "That's enough for today, John. Day after tomorrow we will backtrack and work our way back up." She stepped towards the door.
"Yeah, whatever." John scowled. When he'd returned to the Institute after briefly running away, he'd promised Bobby that he'd try to get his powers trained properly. He hadn't taken into account the fact that he was totally impatient and wanted results faster than he was capable of achieving. He folded his arms across his chest.
"None of you trust me since what happened with Bobs, do you?"
He received no answer and in a foul mood, he stormed off, no doubt to throw one of his near-infamous sulks in a quiet corner somewhere.
They all underestimated him. One day, they’d regret that.
