xmutanthigh | [a day in the life] of pyro. the resident terrorist.

Entry tags:

[a day in the life] of pyro. the resident terrorist.

Characters: Whoever wants to bother poor John.
Setting: Everywhere.
Content: Anything.
Status: Forever open and forever incomplete.

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[Yeah, John wins this mini round. She's just feeling extra irritable today.]

Do you ever stop with that fucking thing?

[Miraculously! He stops. But only to hold up his lighter for a moment and glance at it.] This old thing? [Then he goes back to opening and closing.] Nope.

Great. [She rolls her eyes again and shakes her head ever so slightly as she turns back to her lunch. Her soup is far less annoying than he is. She likes it better than him too. ]

[Now it's his turn to raise an eyebrow at her, still evenly appraising her and continuing with his Zippo as he leans backwards in his chair.]

So I hear you have a new boy toy.

[He says this with a smile, knowing it'll get her attention.]

About ye high, telekinetic, a big fucking asshole. Never knew assholes were your type.

[Yeah this isn't like an age-old dig at Boy Scout Bobby getting Miss Untouchable and John, as usual, getting fucking squat. BFF gets the girl, John gets no girl and less of a BFF with the girl around. He's a bitter child.]

[Yeah, that gets her attention. Her entire body tenses but she tries to act like it's nothing, concentrating on finishing up the rest of her soup. She's a bit surprised that he's heard but then again, it's Gossip Mutant High. Her tone is too carefully steady and calm when she does finally reply.]

Assholes? Nope, y'all definitely aren't my type.

[God, everything about her is like a fucking tell. There's no poker face with this girl. One word and all her secrets are laid out to see. John just needs to keep finding the right buttons.

He chuckles a little.]

Tell me, Miss Unotuchable. [He leans over the table, his pleased smile lingering.] What does dear old Bobby think about you shacking up with another guy?

You'd have to ask Bobby about that.

[Rogue grits her teeth, trying but failing to try and rein her emotions back in. She knows exactly what he's doing. He used to do it all the fucking time before he abandoned the X-men at Alkali and she's no better at ignoring it now than she was back then.]

[He lets out an amused breath at that and leans back in his seat again. Like hell he'd have that heart to heart with Bobby. Unless it was to taunt the guy, of course. This time when he opens his lighter, he turns on the flame, swipes the tips of his fingers across it.] Yeah, maybe. I hear this new one can't keep it in his pants. Aren't you worried about when all the lovey dovey shit gets old? Guys have needs, you know.

[A part of Rogue really wishes that she was more confident about recalling powers because if she was? She would totally be using his to steal that stupid little flame away from him just to be a bitch.]

Yeah, John, I'm just absolutely terrified of that happenin'. [Her voice is just dripping pure sarcasm right now.] If only I'd ever had some sort of relationship before this one that lasted for a few years... oh wait. I did.

[She's totally worried about that, no matter what she's saying. Who wouldn't be?]

[Oh, their back and forth. How he savors her bitchy little sarcasm and that look in her eyes that says, "No actually, John, I'm scared as fuck about that happenin' but I'm going to tell you to shut up anyway." That's why he just smiles and raises a disbelieving eyebrow at her, closing his Zippo with a pointed click.]

But this dickwad isn't Bobby Drake, also known as a fucking saint. And even he got a little impatient now and then, didn't he? Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't he why you got your little cure? I'm just saying, Rogue. Something to think about long-term with your new sweetheart.

Gosh, thanks for the relationship advice, sugah. I'm sure I couldn't think of a better fucking person to ask.

[Sarcasm sarcasm and more sarcasm. Sarcasm mixed with a not so subtle dig. And there's also a steadily growing urge to hit him square in the forehead with her spoon.]

[Yeah, John's bleeding inside. Boo hoo, she cut him real deep. He's just laughing at her now. On the inside, mostly. But it's pretty obvious even from the outside.] Just an old friend lookin' out for you.

Because we were always such great friends, right? [The hand that doesn't have a death grip on her spoon is curled into a fist at her side beneath the table.]

[Yeah, no. Never were, aren't now, probably never will be. His cruel amusement fades a little, and he just looks at her with one of his unsettling smiles for a moment.] Sure, why not?

[She bites back a humourless laugh at that. Sort of friends? Maybe. Great friends? Never ever ever. She rolls her eyes as she stands up, empty dishes in hand, and takes a few steps away from the table.] Grow the hell up, John.

You have a nice day too. [Yeah, that insult of hers was A+. He's sobbing inside. He keeps his eyes on the table at her retort, waiting until she's in the periphery of his vision and throwing out her trash.] Say hi to Bobby for me. You know, if you see him.

[Her only response is to flick him off, not even bothering to turn around.]

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[a day in the life] of pyro. the resident terrorist.

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