| Welcome to Xmen Revolution. We hope you enjoy your visit. You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| Twizzler Trek; Open | |
|---|---|
| Topic Started: Apr 18 2011, 07:25 PM (567 Views) | |
| Pyro | Apr 18 2011, 07:25 PM Post #1 |
![]()
Pyrokinesis/Fiery Puns
|
April 1st Afternoon This is what happens when you can't think of anything to do. No books, no assignments, no missions, and you just end up wandering about like a nut-job in the streets of some misbegotten Atlantis. St. John was only ever comfortable here when the idea of being underneath thousands of feet of water drifted from his mind. True, it had become the center of activity for the Brotherhood and all its connections, but really, the idea of a pyrokinetic in water made him feel... Useless. In the event that something with the bio-dome malfunctioned or broke, he was nothing more than a drowning cat amongst thousands. But, you know, it was totally cool that they were underneath the ocean. Nothing to worry about there. St. John, in his typical meandering fashion, wandered the cityscape. Looking for nothing in particular than a break from tinkering with his flamethrowers and rolling over occupational hazards. St. John was by no means indifferent to the way things worked, though. He participated in all that was required of him and sometimes more, but as high-grade missions had nearly come to a halt he was bored beyond reason. Administrative duties, what little were given to him, were not something he was good at. He was a soldier. And when soldiers were bored, usually that meant trouble was afoot. But! For the sake of sparing Sanctuary an invasion from SHIELD any more than they needed it, he settled on just visiting the common folk and working his position in the Brotherhood at a candy shop. Ah yes, fortunes of fame. By order of Magneto that they not be treated any different (which St. John thought was lunacy, since they literally built this place), St. John did pay for the treats. Just to be clear, that should be noted, because otherwise someone might assume he's breaking their own rules. That was the boring way about it. Long gone were the days of snatching candy and burning down Hot Topics. Time seemed to force things to grow and St. John grew along with it, just a bit anyways. Without a stable setting and a bit of licorice hanging from his mouth like a cigarette, the happy little arsonist continued his pointless odyssey through the underwater domain. |
[align=center]![]() Olga gets credit for the cinders and gifness.[/align] | |
![]() |
|
| Spitfire | Apr 20 2011, 10:01 PM Post #2 |
![]()
Superspeed with Pyrotechnic Effects
|
With great power comes great responsibility…or something like that, just sadly not extra rations. She got through enough and combined with Tommy? Suffice to say it was pretty damn costly. Still, no worse than it had been back up on topsoil, better even, because she didn’t have to worry about being arrested while trying to buy jelly beans. Now she was living in Sanctuary, the most she had to worry about was the occasional fanboy staring and really, one could just turn a blind eye to that sort of stuff, unless of course they started following you around and in that case you could suggest a variety of activities to what they could go and do with themselves. For a change, the young speedster was snacking on peanut brittle that day, wanting something a little different to her usual gummy sweets. It made a nice change, even if it did make her a little thirsty, but it wasn’t like Sanctuary was without beverages. Training was over, at least until a session she had later, so she was making the most of the free time. You never knew when you were going to have to go and blow something up… Talking of blowing up, Jac spotted St. John, also obviously enjoying the freedom of the underwater kingdom. The firestarter, in many ways was responsible for where she was now. He had been the one who had tried to kill her, albeit mistakenly, and after that had been cleared up, he had taken her back to Murderworld with him. However, things had changed a huge amount since then and now she outranked him as an Acolyte. Diverting her chosen route she sidled up to Pyro and held out her bag of peanut brittle, shaking it at the Australian lightly. “Afternoon. Busy today?” she asked, hoping things hadn’t changed too much between them with her recent promotion. In a weird sense of the word, he was her friend and she had lost too many of those in the last few months to lose another. |
![]() |
|
| Pyro | Apr 21 2011, 11:21 PM Post #3 |
![]()
Pyrokinesis/Fiery Puns
|
St. John nibbled away at the licorice rope hanging from his mouth like a beaver chewed through a stick. Since few things were genuinely traded from other countries and places, much of the commercialism was born in Sanctuary itself, usually through the use of mutant powers or technologies beyond that of the human public. What resources they did get were distributed in a way that St. John didn't care to mull on: all that mattered is that he got his fix of candy. The bit he had was a different sort of flavor, probably because they used real products to make it. Mm, processed sugars. So good. Between a step and another, Spitfire showed up out of the blue. Wherever the hell she came from, St. John hadn't the bloodiest idea. Speedsters weren't exactly the type that gave themselves away or announced they were arriving. But, over time, St. John had become relatively accustomed to the presence of the speedster and her mannerisms, so while it may have been startling to one or two other patrons around them it was typical for him. The recently desaturated blond waggled a bag of peanut brittle at him and he shook his head, raising his own bag of treats in communal offering. "Afternoon. Busy today?" "Wonder if it's really day out," he said with an upturned gaze. He hadn't really considered doing the math yet, but he just figured everything aligned with the typical times of the Earth's rotation. Shrugging, St. John shook his head, pulling the licorice rope out of his mouth to talk properly. "Ain't got nothing to do but a training thing later, sheila. Can't be kept busy enough, it seems. Not like you Acolytes," he teased. Her promotion wasn't really something that was going to upset the balance between them. He understood the rules of rank and followed them. Here, however, she was just Jac. Not Spitfire. "No big missions of note lately, either, and I'd kind of like to keep it that way if I have to get stuck with Roger or Koen again. Useless, really. You look like you've been busy though. Shiny new boots and a bloke I haven't had the chance of meeting yet. Heard he was his kin," Magneto's. "I guess that explains the hair, though," St. John smirked. "So, how's the Acolyte title treatin' ya? Any different from being a standard, generic, devout Magnetite? I bet you get a lot of fresh looks." |
[align=center]![]() Olga gets credit for the cinders and gifness.[/align] | |
![]() |
|
| Spitfire | Apr 27 2011, 03:33 PM Post #4 |
![]()
Superspeed with Pyrotechnic Effects
|
As she held out her peanut brittle, Pyro held out his own bag in that mutual need for sugar that they both understood. Their powers on first description, might not sound that compatible, but the two young mutants worked in sync with each other and had developed a good understanding of how the others ability worked and how it could benefit them. Teamwork was important, even in the Brotherhood. Pulling out a rope of liquorice, the speedster chewed rapidly and swallowed the sweet already in her mouth, before biting off a small chunk of the rope. “I guess it is. Depends where we are though,” Jac shrugged. It was probably the main thing that people wondered; where was Sanctuary. Most people knew, or at least the rumour, that they were underwater, but seeing as the globe was mainly ocean…well, it didn’t give one much to go on. Spitfire just hoped the roof stayed up or else they’d be reliving something out of Titanic. Shuddering, the teenager made a mental note to never watch that film again (not that she had watched it since she was around thirteen anyway, as it just wasn’t her sort of thing). A slightly strained smirk crossed her face as he dropped the phrase you Acolytes. Jac hoped he didn’t mean anything like that as so far, it seemed that things were still the same between her and her Australian friend. The real test would be when they were out on a mission and go from having equal say in matters, to her word being final. That was daunting. Snorting at his comment about some of the other members of the Brotherhood, Jac bit another bit off her liquorice rope and waved it at him. “Don’t remind me. Although I think I have a little more choice on who I go with now, which is one of the benefits I guess…How we actually got out of that place, I don’t actually remember. I just remember Cain repeatedly punching the naked Frankenstein monster thing as if he was…yeeeah” the blonde shuddered. “That was some kind of nightmare…” Oh, oh here it was. Tommy had come back with her at the beginning of January but so far, people had mostly held their tongue about it, but really, she shouldn’t have expected them to keep quiet forever. Poking her tongue out at St. John, the speedster pulled a face. “It’s a speedster thing, actually. Once you seem to hit a certain speed, the colour goes out of you. I started getting pale streaks back after Halloween, but you’re a guy so not like you’d notice sooner,” she repaid his teasing comment with one of his own and then shrugged a little at his question. “It is different I suppose. More work and people like, look up to you, expecting you to know stuff, as if Magneto tells you absolutely everything or you just magically get everything delivered into your mind…” her shoulders sagged a little, as if with the invisible weight of the responsibility. “Oh, I get plenty of looks too…Mostly of the ’shouldn’t you still be in school?’ kind or something else equally patronising, either to do with the fact I’m young, blonde and a girl,” juggling her bag of brittle and her remaining liquorice rope, she ticked these attributes off of her fingers. “Oh, and then there’re the sort who think I am where I am because of Tommy….I bet Amelia never had this trouble…” Jac sighed heavily and crammed the rope into her mouth. |
![]() |
|
| Pyro | Apr 29 2011, 04:43 AM Post #5 |
![]()
Pyrokinesis/Fiery Puns
|
"I like to figure that we ain't that deep down, maybe just a few feet. I bet we could find out what timezone we're set to, though, judging by where the..." he looked up, "sun is. Just compare it to where it's day out. 'Course, that'd mean having a mission in every damn continent..." Definitely not something he would want to do, not when the chances of getting stuck with some other certain mutants were rather high... No matter, though. Whatever the time was outside of Sanctuary didn't really matter. Sanctuary had its own biological processes, thermal energies, and was essentially an aquarium hidden beneath the sea. "Yeah," St. John said simply, sharing the horrors of that mission that was meant to be easy and without trouble. Instead, they were plagued by the incompetence of members who stood around and didn't offer anything to the objective. There was only so much St. John could tolerate in this field of work. Being a soldier was serious business. If you weren't willing to stand up and do your mission right, leave. There's always going to be a jaded and bitter team-mate looming somewhere and it was very easy to say you accidentally stepped in their line of fire. St. John had already proven he wasn't above burning his own team-mates back when Sabretooth leapt in front of him during the attack on Pestilence's diseased legions. "Can't blame him for punching it, though. Wouldn't want giant, muscled cock floating around near me." St. John smirked at her teasing, taking a bite of his licorice. "All hair burns orange, sheila. I just see a mass o' tinder on top of a skull waiting for some flint." Yeah. He was still a pyromaniac, what did you expect? "A lot of the fresh meat walk around like sharks on land. Ain't surprised they look to you for more information. Heh... You actually have to answer, though. Maybe we should get a 'Welcome to the Brotherhood' pamphlet?" He sneered, shifting towards a bench to set himself on. Climbing onto it and sitting on its back, he nipped another bit of licorice off the rope and spoke as he chewed it. "All the vets know otherwise. That X-Boy ain't got any part as to why you're an Acolyte. You earned that out right. 'Course, there's reasons for that. I can't exactly jet-pack my way into a country and get out without barely being noticed, now can I?" he mused in spite of himself. "The things you can do, sheila, that's why you're an Acolyte. If someone's giving you grief over it, you just let me know and I'll tell you where to kick 'em." He offered her another rope from his bag. "Only person who ever had it handed to them for who they were was Pietro. Look where that got him." Quicksilver was by no means a touchy subject for St. John. He knew that Spitfire had some sort of relationship with the traitor, but to St. John, that's all Pietro was. A traitor. Someone who betrayed and abandoned the Brotherhood. Pietro was someone that stamped his own head with a target, just like Remy, and just like Rogue. People they had to kill on sight. "Age has nothin' to do with it. It's all about experience. You just flash your Acolyte badge," because they totally had badges, "and people'll roll over like a tailless lizard." |
[align=center]![]() Olga gets credit for the cinders and gifness.[/align] | |
![]() |
|
| Spitfire | May 7 2011, 04:27 PM Post #6 |
![]()
Superspeed with Pyrotechnic Effects
|
The speedster looked up as Pryo made his statement. It made a lot of sense but it did sound like a lot of fussing around to work out. “I suppose if we need to know where we are, then we’ll know,” the paled out blonde spoke, her words a little more optimistic than her actual feelings. Of course she wanted to know, her nature making her naturally highly inquisitive about far too much as it was, without wanting to know one of The Secrets. “In some ways I’d rather not know though, you know? For all we know, we’re way under the sea. Or, we’re right near the surface, two miles out from where we started…” Actually, that wouldn’t surprise her. Shaking the thought off, Jac continued to nibble on her snacks, snorting at her fellow’s description of what had gone on in that messed up army base. “Can’t say that was our best ever mission…Though what I’m more worried about is what if there’re more of those things out there?” Just as Jac felt that Pyro wasn’t nearly as crazy as everyone seemed to think, he went and said or did something that pretty much proved he was, like right now. The speedster had the unconscious urge to pat her hair or put it under a hat, but she kept her hands where they were, juggling about her sweets and gave something that vaguely resembled a laugh, half muffled by a mouthful of liquorice. “A welcome to the Brotherhood pamphlet? Next we’ll be having cake sales and fundraiser dances,” the girl teased a little, knowing that the suggestion was not serious in the first place. “No, people like that just need taking down a peg or four and the stuffing knocking out of them,” nodding seriously, her words were a little harder than they might have been only a few months ago. The role she had found herself in was daunting, that was for sure and she couldn’t get lazy or soft in the head about things as she might once have been able to. At least Pyro didn’t seem to be judging her as some had about Tommy. According to some, she was the biggest traitor around or the most stuck up bitch. But what else was she supposed to have done? Being a speedster could be terribly lonely sometimes and it was hard to get people to understand how she really felt. Tommy understood. Smiling wryly at the pyromaniac, she took another rope. “Thanks. That means a bunch.” Winding the rope around her hand she chewed it thoughtfully, feeling a little uncomfortable as the subject drifted to Pietro and by default, Remy and even Rogue. The traitors… “I’m sure Magneto knows what he’s doing…” the blonde commented, thinking back to that night. Even now it still made her shudder to remember. Jac was sure she would never forget that evening. “You come out with the best analogies, you know that?” Spitfire snorted, the mood lifting a little. “That was an analogy, right? I was more into sports and pretend shooting people in cadets than my English homework…” |
![]() |
|
| Pyro | May 14 2011, 10:26 PM Post #7 |
![]()
Pyrokinesis/Fiery Puns
|
"Yeah... Just knowing we're under some ocean ain't exactly something that's gonna make me happy," St. John snorted, now that he thought about it. He never liked the idea of being under the sea. Too many things could go wrong. "What if we're on another planet, though? Or an asteroid? Unless that's a bit far out of our range," he shrugged. That's what happened when you had too much free time to read books, you think of looney things. "I wouldn't doubt that there are, sheila," he nipped more licorice off the rope. "Those humans are doing whatever they can to make things to combat us. It's only a matter of time before they bring those Sentinels back. I think that's why we ain't just throwing ourselves through New York. The risk of those machines being brought back out of remission is a bit big. Our numbers ain't strong enough to fight an army of super-robots, let alone take care of those whinging Genoshans, especially with people like Roger and Toxin about," he spat, still bitter about the whole ordeal. "I just hope they put pants on those freaks if there are any more. Rage boners aren't exactly what I wanna see when in the field." "Yeap," St. John said nonchalantly, not really being the sort to have meaningful conversations. He was a bit too casual to be thanked, especially given that he had practically dismissed all other arguments about her becoming an Acolyte. Such things were awkward to talk about. "I'm sure he does. Still, even Magneto makes mistakes. But that's what people like you n' me are around for, right?" The pyrokinetic managed to smirk over some licorice. "I ain't all fire and mayhem, sheila. If ya want to get technical, it's a simile, but for common folk its all the same." Cue moment of awkward silence. "So, is your boyfriend going to be joining the Brotherhood? Or does he need some therapy to drop all that X-Men garbage?" |
[align=center]![]() Olga gets credit for the cinders and gifness.[/align] | |
![]() |
|
| Spitfire | May 20 2011, 12:31 AM Post #8 |
![]()
Superspeed with Pyrotechnic Effects
|
“Maybe too far out of range…We do teleport in and out…unless that’s some sort of lie,” Jac mused, tilting her head back to look up at the ‘sky’ that covered them, looking for all intents and purposes like a real sky, as she would see in any part of the world except maybe clearer. To think that they were underwater was unsettling enough, but that they were on another planet…That was downright freaky. No. Surely she would know. Her new position did not clue her in to every tiny aspect of life here, but she knew a lot now and if they were on another planet, then surely she would know that much at least. The talk about Sentinels and those creatures caused a great shiver to run down the length of her spine and the young woman shuddered, folding her arms across her chest as she looked at the Aussie. Thankfully, she had avoided the Sentinels but of course she had heard about them. Who hadn’t? Dark mirth overcame her as he talked about Roger and Toxin then rage boners and she shook her white blonde head at him. “I think the budget doesn’t stretch to trousers…I mean, when these mad Government people are planning to eradicate us, I doubt their top concern is how their weapons are attired.” Reaching across the speedster cuffed the pyrokinetic on the shoulder, chewing on another sweet. Since her abrupt recruitment into the Brotherhood, the two had been something of a regular team, their powers mixing beneficially as well as their personalities – sort of. It did help to have a team that weren’t constantly arguing however and while you couldn’t go as far as to describe them as best friends forever, they were certainly something of a double act. “Yeah, yeah, well I haven’t done an English lesson for a long time,” Jac waved her hand, amused by his correction. “Was more into sports and all that…” trailing off, she kept a humoured look on her face for a moment, turning her head away as St. John brought up Tommy. “If he joins…Well, that’s his call. I’m hardly going to stop him but I won’t force him. He wouldn’t do anyone any good either way…As for therapy, well everyone down here is a little bit crazy, eh?” Spitfire rolled her head around on her shoulders so that she was looking back at the Australian, a dark smile on her pale, pointed face. “Maybe you could write something about that.” |
![]() |
|
| Pyro | May 20 2011, 06:11 AM Post #9 |
![]()
Pyrokinesis/Fiery Puns
|
"I guess that is a bit out of this world to consider, pun intended," he said with a sneer. The prospect of Sanctuary being on another planet or celestial body, while kickass in all respects, was an impossibility. Transferring people across vast, interstellar distances was far beyond the power of any mutant he knew existed. Even the likes of Magneto could probably only get to the asteroid field before needing to turn back. "You think they'd at least give those brutes a pair of stretchy purple shorts... I wonder if clothes are actually a requirement for us... You ever gone stark naked at full speed?" he grinned. "I've had plenty of accidents way back when my powers first came about. Had to find some fire retardant underwear to keep me from having the lizard come out and say hi." Giving a chuckle in spite of himself, St. John finished the last remnants of his licorice rope. "No one appreciated that back in school... 'Course, they didn't appreciate having their heads set on fire when they started laughin'. Good times," he said fondly as her hand set itself on his shoulder. Touching people was somehow odd to him. Even with someone as close to him as Spitfire, having his personal space invaded made him antsy. Had it been someone else, he probably would have conjured a bit of flame from his shoulder. Burning himself wasn't exactly his idea of fun, but the creation was becoming instinctive rather than forced. He was going to the medical wards several times a week to deal with the burns. What was the next step? Bursting entirely in fire? "Bet track n' field was your forte," he went on, tucking the rest of the licorice in his bag into a pocket. Trading it for his zippo, the Australian came off the back of the bench and stood next to it again, clicking his lighter open and shut. "Ain't saying you should force him in, sheila, just that you've got to be aware of the situation you're in. Crikey... He could be a mole or something, just like Gambit. I don't want to judge you for your choices, Jac, but hooking up with a bloke fresh from the X-Men... If something does happen, I just hope you remember what side you're on. We can't afford losing someone as reliable as you. We're stretched thin enough as it is," he shrugged, dismissing the subject. He didn't want to come off like he was insulting her by calling he ignorant of the situation she was in hooking up with Magneto's grandkid or whatever, let alone an X-Nerd. He just wanted it to be clear and, clearly, St. John had no qualms about bringing it into discussion. St. John snorted at the thought of writing about the loons down here. Damaged as he was, there were still some worse. "I'm sure it'd be a tale with you being bitten and turned into a vampire. You can run around in bright yellow with a bird on your face trying not to sparkle," he teased. Reaching into his pocket, he fished out the bag of what remained of his early licorice purchase and tossed it to her. "Here. Share that with your mate. I should probably go heat up the furnaces for a while." A common escape for him. It gave him time to focus and build up endurance... The pyrokinetic's kegel. |
[align=center]![]() Olga gets credit for the cinders and gifness.[/align] | |
![]() |
|
| Spitfire | May 21 2011, 12:14 AM Post #10 |
![]()
Superspeed with Pyrotechnic Effects
|
Sometimes, conversations could get a little weird with her fellow members of the Brotherhood. The speedster did have friends in Sanctuary and there were plenty of people around that she enjoyed spending time with, as odd as some might find that, but conversations could now and then take a weird turning point. This was definitely one of them. The speedster quirked an eyebrow and shook her head as the Australian asked if she had ever gone full speed naked. “Sorry, can’t say I have. My skin is toughened to withstand running at high speed, but that’d still…burn a bit,” she swallowed a mouthful of liquorice and nearly choked at his next comment. Oh…oh god…No, that was wrong. “Pyro. We’ve been through a lot, more than a lot, but I do not want to hear about your…lizard playing peek-a-boo,” she hung her white blonde head low, shaking it and trying to get rid of the mental image of her teammate, clothing burnt to a crisp and gone, giggling madly and scampering about burning fields singing ‘Waltzing Matilda’ to himself. Jac’s efforts were in vain and soon the girl was crying with laughter, bent double on her perch. Oh, was she glad there were such things as flame retardant materials in the world. Clearing her throat, Spitfire wiped a tear out of her eye and looked back at him, settling down from her laughing fit. “Yeah, guess it was looking back. I wasn’t bad at other lessons but sports was always my best.” The topic was taking an uncomfortably serious turn and while she knew that Pyro for the most part kept his nose in his business and let her deal with hers, the two keeping moderately respectful boundaries with the other, that he had valid reasons for voicing his concerns. “I know…It – well. He can’t sneeze without Magneto knowing about it. He could be a mole but don’t you think they’ve got the best telepaths in Sanctuary checking on him? Gambit was something different and Tommy…” Trailing off, Jac swallowed the words of affection and love she was about to come out with. “Maybe I wasn’t thinking straight when I got with him but it was not long after the Witch King attacked. No one was as they should be then and it just, it just helped. He knows where I stand though, I never made a secret of that and if he tries to change me, well he won’t.” Setting her jaw, Jac put her head back, giving the Aussie a challenging stare of defiance. She didn’t feel like he was trying to make her feel awkward or on the spot, unlike some had, but the speedster did want to make it clear she was fully functional in the sense department, no matter what it might actually appear. Thankfully he was diverted by the thought of writing about the Brotherhood and Jac began to laugh again as he promised to pen her as a vampire in a yellow costume. “Amazing. And yellow, so practical!” she clapped her hands together. “Though I don’t get the bird bit. That a reference to something?” Reaching out she grabbed the bag he tossed her, holding it out for a second before putting it into her pocket. “Thanks, Pyro. Have a good one, catch you later mate,” she nodded and eased herself off her perch, patting the pocket into which she had tucked the bag and gave her friend a smile before turning and running. She had no real destination in mind, but she just wanted to run. |
![]() |
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| « Previous Topic · Sanctuary Archives · Next Topic » |










2:10 PM Jul 11