XMMF: "Descent of Man", Magneto, Pyro. Rated T.
Title: Descent of Man
Author: Sionnain
'Verse: Movie, set pre-X3
Characters: Pyro, Magneto
Rating: T
Prompt: Fireworks
Summary: A bumper sticker incites Magneto's ire, and Pyro gets a really cool idea about flaming cars that he may just have to use one of these days.
Genre: Gen, vaguely humorous (I hope)
Word Count: 1771
AN: I hope this isn't offensive to anyone, I certainly don't mean it to be. It's just that something tells me Magneto's not a fan of an anti-evolution bumper sticker. Thanks to Carlos_Thedwarf and willowaus for reading this over :)
Descent of Man
“Ah, there you are.”
Pyro was relieved to see Magneto approaching, walking with that self-assured sort of saunter that was his trademark. Pyro, on the other hand, was sprawled on a bench, too hot and rather bored, looking rather adolescent and petulant. Maybe that was his trademark.
At first he’d been glad he’d not had to attend whatever clandestine meeting Magneto had arranged, but after about an hour in the blazing sun he’d changed his mind. The meeting probably had air conditioning, and all he had was a boring old parking lot and a harbor to look at. The ocean was nice, but it had sort of lost its appeal after the first ten minutes.
“Yeah, here I am. Meeting okay?” It was a cursory sort of question that Pyro asked just because he thought maybe he should.
“Yes,” Magneto answered, not elaborating. Pyro didn’t really expect him to. “Where’s the car?”
“Down this way. I got tired of standing so I moved to the bench.”
“Taking in the scenery?”
Pyro looked at him, slightly surprised. “The scenery?”
“The harbor,” Magneto said, sighing. He gestured towards the horizon, the water sparkling beneath the sun, dotted with pretty white sails.
“Oh.” Pyro spared it a glance for approximately half a second, then shrugged. “Water. Yeah. Seen it before.”
“You have no appreciation for the finer things in life,” Magneto chided him, but it was almost affectionate. Well, as close as Magneto got to affectionate, anyway.
“I got us a nice car,” Pyro protested, raking a hand through his hair, damp from sweat.
Magneto smirked at him, face shielded from the sun by one of his innumerable hats. “Not the one you would have chosen for yourself, though, I imagine.”
That was the truth. Pyro had thought about taking a Dodge Viper, but he just couldn’t see the boss in one of those. He’d gone with some Infiniti luxury sedan instead. Hell, at this point, all he cared about was that the air conditioning worked. “Yeah, it’s-” he broke off, noticing Magneto was staring at the back of a nondescript blue Ford Escort with a bad paint job and a vanity plate that said PRAY HRD. “Not that one,” he finished, kind of insulted.
Honestly, did Magneto think he’d steal a Ford? What the hell was the point of being on the bad guy’s team if you couldn’t have a car that was better than a Ford? That’s the car that Mr. Summers would steal, for Christ’s sake. That is, if Mr. Summers did things like stealing cars, which Pyro really doubted.
“Something the matter?” A voice asked, and Pyro turned immediately to confront two young men who were watching Magneto speculatively. “That’s my car. You want my space or somethin’?”
Pyro relaxed, the flames from his igniter dying in his hand, realizing they were addressing the car’s owner and his companion.
“I was merely wondering if you would explain this to me,” Magneto asked smoothly, gesturing towards the plaque on the back of the car. It was a little metal fish, complete with feet, that had the word Darwin inside. It was being eaten by a larger fish that said Truth.
“Oh. That’s a Christian fish,” one of the young men said, straightening up. “Have you found the Lord, sir?”
Pyro tried very unsuccessfully to hide his laughter in a cough. The second young man glared at him. Pyro glared back. Stupid flatscan. You want to see God? Flames burned his hand a little, the kind of heat Pyro actually liked.
“I’m Jewish,” Magneto answered, sounding unconcerned. “I’m aware of the meaning of the fish, young man. My question is why it appears to be devouring that smaller one that says Darwin on it.”
Pyro was always a little awed at how Magneto could do that, speak in a way that made other people sound…well,stupid. He hoped that he’d learn that trick eventually. It seemed useful. Or maybe just cool.
“Oh. Well, see, the so-called scientists--” the man said the word like it was a curse-“would have us believe that humans came out of apes. Which is just stupid. God made us all how we are, tells us so in the Bible.” His voice rang with the certainty of one who had probably never had his faith in anything tested, ever, and his companion nodded sagely.
“So you don’t believe in the theory of evolution, do you?”
The young man made a sound of dissent, unaware he was conversing with a very dangerous man that had, very recently, tried to kill him. Not personally, of course, but Pyro thought the guy still may take it that way. Pyro certainly would.
“Ain’t no evidence for it, far as I know,” the guy continued, and Pyro rolled his eyes.
Magneto smiled in that way he had that was very, very scary. “Isn’t there?”
“Those muties think so,” the second man piped up. “But that ain’t evolution. That’s just…don’t know what,” he said, shrugging. “Maybe the devil?”
Pyro laughed, turning his face up towards the sun. “The devil.”
“Of course it isn’t the devil,” Magneto scoffed. “I’m afraid you’ve been misled.” With that, he raised one hand, and the little Escort rose several feet in the air and hovered there. Pyro turned his face away as the sun glinted off the rearview mirror and hit him in the eye, but he tried to look cool about it, because he was homo superior and little things like sun-in-the-eyes were not supposed to bother him.
Except that he just wished he had his sunglasses. He made a note to bring them next time.
“What the hell is that?” The car owner shouted, staring up at the car and back at Magneto, shocked.
“That, young man, is evolution,” Magneto answered quietly, and turned his hand over abruptly, palm now facing downward. The car flipped upside down, then slowly compressed, crumpling like paper beneath his power. “I would suggest that you start believing in it.” With that, he made a dismissive motion and the car rose even higher in the air, moving smoothly out over the water, before falling in with a loud noise and a larger splash.
The little metal plaque, however, landed right on the blacktop at the man’s feet, untouched.
Magneto turned to Pyro, completely ignoring his rather horrified audience and the fact that the unfortunate young man was on his cell phone and trying to explain to the police what had just happened. The second was picking up the offending car ornament, staring at it almost worshipfully.
“It’s not even damaged…praise Jesus,” he murmured, his eyes wide.
Magneto rolled his eyes and shook his head, muttering under his breath something that sounded very much like Idiot. He turned to Pyro. “And where is our car?”
“Uh, it’s right down there,” Pyro muttered, pointing towards the gleaming black sedan. Or at least, in its general direction, because he was looking around almost wildly, wondering if maybe he was going to end up in jail because Magneto just squished a car in offense over a glorified metal bumper sticker.
“Ah. Excellent.” Magneto walked briskly towards the car. Pyro tossed him the keys and climbed in the passenger side, watching as a mini-van pulled up, window down, a woman leaning out to ask the two young men if she could park her car in the now-empty slot.
Yeah, see, it really is survival of the fittest, idiots, he thought, then turned his attention to Magneto. “So, I thought we were, you know. Supposed to be low-key,” he mumbled, adjusting the vents and fumbling with the buttons that controlled the air conditioner. He only sounded petulant because he’d have been in trouble six ways to Sunday if he’d pulled a stunt like that.
And if he wouldn’t have been, he really wished maybe Magneto would have let him set the car on fire or something. No fair he sat out there in the goddamned heat and missed the meeting and the fun.
“Willful ignorance annoys me,” Magneto said archly, and cut his eyes down to glance at Pyro. “Do you have a problem with my conduct a moment ago, Pyro?” His gaze was cool but vaguely amused.
Pyro snorted. “Dude, if you want to throw some flatscan’s car into the harbor, who am I to stop you? It just…” he paused, wondering if maybe he had a death wish. Seriously, who was he to have a problem with the boss’s conduct, really?
“Yes? Please, do go on,” Magneto drawled, shifting the car into gear and maneuvering it into traffic. There were sirens in the distance, but he didn’t appear concerned about that.
“Seems more like something I’d do, is all. You’re like, not so…um,” Pyro searched wildly for a word, not wanting to end up in the harbor with the Escort. “You know. You’ve got less of a temper.”
“I don’t know about that,” Magneto said, and he was laughing. “Do you think me incapable of becoming annoyed? You’re not the only one that finds them tiresome, dear boy.”
“Look,” Pyro said, turning the fan up to high and leaning forward so that it blew directly against his flushed skin, “You can do whatever you want, cool. But the cops are gonna know it was you.”
“Oh, no,” Magneto said mockingly, a look of false concern on his face. “Do you think they’ll come after me?” At Pyro’s look, he threw his had back and laughed. Obviously willful destruction of property agreed with him. “Do you honestly think that’s any worse than what I’ve done before? Shall this be the thing that knocks me up to number four on the FBI’s Most Wanted list?”
“You’re only number five?” Pyro leaned back and grinned. “Dude. Maybe you ought to throw some more cars around.” His eyes brightened. “With some warning next time, I could catch them on fire. That’d be cool.”
“I suppose that you could. We’ll keep it in mind for the future. Now,” he said, and his voice went back to that stern, general-esque tone Pyro knew so well, all hints of amusement forgotten. “Find us something to listen to that isn’t horrible, and be quiet. I have a few things to mull over before we meet Mystique.”
Pyro flipped on the station, went right by the hip-hop and hard rock stations, and put the radio on some boring classical station that would probably start playing NPR at some point. He stared out of the window, thinking about flaming cars as the sun sank below the horizon.
Author: Sionnain
'Verse: Movie, set pre-X3
Characters: Pyro, Magneto
Rating: T
Prompt: Fireworks
Summary: A bumper sticker incites Magneto's ire, and Pyro gets a really cool idea about flaming cars that he may just have to use one of these days.
Genre: Gen, vaguely humorous (I hope)
Word Count: 1771
AN: I hope this isn't offensive to anyone, I certainly don't mean it to be. It's just that something tells me Magneto's not a fan of an anti-evolution bumper sticker. Thanks to Carlos_Thedwarf and willowaus for reading this over :)
Descent of Man
“Ah, there you are.”
Pyro was relieved to see Magneto approaching, walking with that self-assured sort of saunter that was his trademark. Pyro, on the other hand, was sprawled on a bench, too hot and rather bored, looking rather adolescent and petulant. Maybe that was his trademark.
At first he’d been glad he’d not had to attend whatever clandestine meeting Magneto had arranged, but after about an hour in the blazing sun he’d changed his mind. The meeting probably had air conditioning, and all he had was a boring old parking lot and a harbor to look at. The ocean was nice, but it had sort of lost its appeal after the first ten minutes.
“Yeah, here I am. Meeting okay?” It was a cursory sort of question that Pyro asked just because he thought maybe he should.
“Yes,” Magneto answered, not elaborating. Pyro didn’t really expect him to. “Where’s the car?”
“Down this way. I got tired of standing so I moved to the bench.”
“Taking in the scenery?”
Pyro looked at him, slightly surprised. “The scenery?”
“The harbor,” Magneto said, sighing. He gestured towards the horizon, the water sparkling beneath the sun, dotted with pretty white sails.
“Oh.” Pyro spared it a glance for approximately half a second, then shrugged. “Water. Yeah. Seen it before.”
“You have no appreciation for the finer things in life,” Magneto chided him, but it was almost affectionate. Well, as close as Magneto got to affectionate, anyway.
“I got us a nice car,” Pyro protested, raking a hand through his hair, damp from sweat.
Magneto smirked at him, face shielded from the sun by one of his innumerable hats. “Not the one you would have chosen for yourself, though, I imagine.”
That was the truth. Pyro had thought about taking a Dodge Viper, but he just couldn’t see the boss in one of those. He’d gone with some Infiniti luxury sedan instead. Hell, at this point, all he cared about was that the air conditioning worked. “Yeah, it’s-” he broke off, noticing Magneto was staring at the back of a nondescript blue Ford Escort with a bad paint job and a vanity plate that said PRAY HRD. “Not that one,” he finished, kind of insulted.
Honestly, did Magneto think he’d steal a Ford? What the hell was the point of being on the bad guy’s team if you couldn’t have a car that was better than a Ford? That’s the car that Mr. Summers would steal, for Christ’s sake. That is, if Mr. Summers did things like stealing cars, which Pyro really doubted.
“Something the matter?” A voice asked, and Pyro turned immediately to confront two young men who were watching Magneto speculatively. “That’s my car. You want my space or somethin’?”
Pyro relaxed, the flames from his igniter dying in his hand, realizing they were addressing the car’s owner and his companion.
“I was merely wondering if you would explain this to me,” Magneto asked smoothly, gesturing towards the plaque on the back of the car. It was a little metal fish, complete with feet, that had the word Darwin inside. It was being eaten by a larger fish that said Truth.
“Oh. That’s a Christian fish,” one of the young men said, straightening up. “Have you found the Lord, sir?”
Pyro tried very unsuccessfully to hide his laughter in a cough. The second young man glared at him. Pyro glared back. Stupid flatscan. You want to see God? Flames burned his hand a little, the kind of heat Pyro actually liked.
“I’m Jewish,” Magneto answered, sounding unconcerned. “I’m aware of the meaning of the fish, young man. My question is why it appears to be devouring that smaller one that says Darwin on it.”
Pyro was always a little awed at how Magneto could do that, speak in a way that made other people sound…well,stupid. He hoped that he’d learn that trick eventually. It seemed useful. Or maybe just cool.
“Oh. Well, see, the so-called scientists--” the man said the word like it was a curse-“would have us believe that humans came out of apes. Which is just stupid. God made us all how we are, tells us so in the Bible.” His voice rang with the certainty of one who had probably never had his faith in anything tested, ever, and his companion nodded sagely.
“So you don’t believe in the theory of evolution, do you?”
The young man made a sound of dissent, unaware he was conversing with a very dangerous man that had, very recently, tried to kill him. Not personally, of course, but Pyro thought the guy still may take it that way. Pyro certainly would.
“Ain’t no evidence for it, far as I know,” the guy continued, and Pyro rolled his eyes.
Magneto smiled in that way he had that was very, very scary. “Isn’t there?”
“Those muties think so,” the second man piped up. “But that ain’t evolution. That’s just…don’t know what,” he said, shrugging. “Maybe the devil?”
Pyro laughed, turning his face up towards the sun. “The devil.”
“Of course it isn’t the devil,” Magneto scoffed. “I’m afraid you’ve been misled.” With that, he raised one hand, and the little Escort rose several feet in the air and hovered there. Pyro turned his face away as the sun glinted off the rearview mirror and hit him in the eye, but he tried to look cool about it, because he was homo superior and little things like sun-in-the-eyes were not supposed to bother him.
Except that he just wished he had his sunglasses. He made a note to bring them next time.
“What the hell is that?” The car owner shouted, staring up at the car and back at Magneto, shocked.
“That, young man, is evolution,” Magneto answered quietly, and turned his hand over abruptly, palm now facing downward. The car flipped upside down, then slowly compressed, crumpling like paper beneath his power. “I would suggest that you start believing in it.” With that, he made a dismissive motion and the car rose even higher in the air, moving smoothly out over the water, before falling in with a loud noise and a larger splash.
The little metal plaque, however, landed right on the blacktop at the man’s feet, untouched.
Magneto turned to Pyro, completely ignoring his rather horrified audience and the fact that the unfortunate young man was on his cell phone and trying to explain to the police what had just happened. The second was picking up the offending car ornament, staring at it almost worshipfully.
“It’s not even damaged…praise Jesus,” he murmured, his eyes wide.
Magneto rolled his eyes and shook his head, muttering under his breath something that sounded very much like Idiot. He turned to Pyro. “And where is our car?”
“Uh, it’s right down there,” Pyro muttered, pointing towards the gleaming black sedan. Or at least, in its general direction, because he was looking around almost wildly, wondering if maybe he was going to end up in jail because Magneto just squished a car in offense over a glorified metal bumper sticker.
“Ah. Excellent.” Magneto walked briskly towards the car. Pyro tossed him the keys and climbed in the passenger side, watching as a mini-van pulled up, window down, a woman leaning out to ask the two young men if she could park her car in the now-empty slot.
Yeah, see, it really is survival of the fittest, idiots, he thought, then turned his attention to Magneto. “So, I thought we were, you know. Supposed to be low-key,” he mumbled, adjusting the vents and fumbling with the buttons that controlled the air conditioner. He only sounded petulant because he’d have been in trouble six ways to Sunday if he’d pulled a stunt like that.
And if he wouldn’t have been, he really wished maybe Magneto would have let him set the car on fire or something. No fair he sat out there in the goddamned heat and missed the meeting and the fun.
“Willful ignorance annoys me,” Magneto said archly, and cut his eyes down to glance at Pyro. “Do you have a problem with my conduct a moment ago, Pyro?” His gaze was cool but vaguely amused.
Pyro snorted. “Dude, if you want to throw some flatscan’s car into the harbor, who am I to stop you? It just…” he paused, wondering if maybe he had a death wish. Seriously, who was he to have a problem with the boss’s conduct, really?
“Yes? Please, do go on,” Magneto drawled, shifting the car into gear and maneuvering it into traffic. There were sirens in the distance, but he didn’t appear concerned about that.
“Seems more like something I’d do, is all. You’re like, not so…um,” Pyro searched wildly for a word, not wanting to end up in the harbor with the Escort. “You know. You’ve got less of a temper.”
“I don’t know about that,” Magneto said, and he was laughing. “Do you think me incapable of becoming annoyed? You’re not the only one that finds them tiresome, dear boy.”
“Look,” Pyro said, turning the fan up to high and leaning forward so that it blew directly against his flushed skin, “You can do whatever you want, cool. But the cops are gonna know it was you.”
“Oh, no,” Magneto said mockingly, a look of false concern on his face. “Do you think they’ll come after me?” At Pyro’s look, he threw his had back and laughed. Obviously willful destruction of property agreed with him. “Do you honestly think that’s any worse than what I’ve done before? Shall this be the thing that knocks me up to number four on the FBI’s Most Wanted list?”
“You’re only number five?” Pyro leaned back and grinned. “Dude. Maybe you ought to throw some more cars around.” His eyes brightened. “With some warning next time, I could catch them on fire. That’d be cool.”
“I suppose that you could. We’ll keep it in mind for the future. Now,” he said, and his voice went back to that stern, general-esque tone Pyro knew so well, all hints of amusement forgotten. “Find us something to listen to that isn’t horrible, and be quiet. I have a few things to mull over before we meet Mystique.”
Pyro flipped on the station, went right by the hip-hop and hard rock stations, and put the radio on some boring classical station that would probably start playing NPR at some point. He stared out of the window, thinking about flaming cars as the sun sank below the horizon.