(no subject)
ICly private
Sometimes I just wonder what the hell I've gotten myself into. How can something feel SO right and SO wrong at the same time? I told Blitz I can't go back. Or Won't go back. Probably some of both. What Magneto is doing is right. It's what's got to be done. And no one back at Xavier's will ever understand that.
Guess I already screwed them all over once. What's one more time?
I need to lay off the video games.
Well, from all appearances, Pyro had been likely playing some game or another, at least if the controller on the floor beneath his fallen hand is any indicator. Right now, he can be found sprawled out on one of the couches, head tilted back in what /cannot/ be a comfortable position. From the heavy breathing and closed eyelids, though, it doesn't seem like he's minding all that much.
"Wakey wakey, you lazy little git!" Padraig calls out as he enters the room, spotting the crumpled form. A jaunty step brings him into the rec room, resplendant in jeans and a scruffy T-shirt, and bearing a broad grin. A large box is balanced on one hand, with plastic bags below it. "Gamecube." he announces, proudly.
Pyro slowly pries one eye open, followed by the other. "Wassn sleeepin," he murmers. "Juss ressin my eyes." He pushes himself back up to a seated position, wincing as he stretches his neck, blinking a number of times. "Welcome back," he says before rubbing his eyes.
"Bullshit." Padraig accuses, good naturedly. Take one box, begin ripping it apart quickly. "And thanks. Been back a while now, and still I'm in a beautiful mood. Anything interesting happen during my,-" Rip. Fling that cardboard. "Absence?"
"Eh, Lu was... Lu, Creed's been in a dandy mood. Magneto tried to kill me," Pyro shrugs. "Nothing special," he comments, as he watches the other's progress on the box.
The Irishman pauses in his disassembly of the box, and his head snaps round. "You too? Why?" Interest flickers across his features, head tipping to the side as he searches the younger mutant's face.
"Well, not really," Pyro grins. "I think he called it testing my powers. But the way he was flinging that sheeting at me, sure felt like he was. On the plus side, discovered I can basically swim in the fire. Least if it was in hand-to-hand, could make sure no one came near me. Not sure if it was that or the pounding over the head with the steel that landed me with the meddies for the day."
Padraig knits his brows into a quick frown, before returning to unpackaging the Gamecube. "Swim? You mean engulf yourself in it?" The latter receives a quick grin. "Hey, at least we get proper training, eh? No pain, no time off."
"Justa day, at that. Well, I guess two, now," Pyro quickly corrects himself. Was in the infirm all yesterday, and am to take it easy today. Killer headache. And I think you're right, too, about using my powers and the metabolism thing. Felt like I was half-starved all day yesterday after putting out so much. Toss me one and I can unwrap something too. Not an invalid."
Padraig nods as he unwraps, grabbing the plastic bag, which contains a number of games, and tossing it towards Pyro. "It's nice to chill, occasionally. Though training's good fun as well. You should see me with that sword." A little self-satisfied smile, and he tips a look towards the couch. "All day? You must've been wiped. But I'm glad I was right; you throwing down the protein shakes and sugary stuff, right? Keep yourself pumped on energy so you can function."
"All day yesterday," Pyro nods. "He plays rough. But think it was as much my doing as his. Really felt like I hadn't eaten in weeks afterwards. Gawd, I love big fires," Pyro smirks, snatching the bag from the air and pulling out the games, beginning to sift through them. "Good stuff. Where'd you pick this up?"
"Wouldn't be training if it just tickled." Padraig notes, with a little chuckle to himself, as the 'Cube is pulled out, and the Irishman begins to sort through wires. His tone becomes more amused. "Fires are awesome. Fire and lightning we got, now. All we need is water and earth." Eyes flick towards the TV, searching for the plugs he needs. "In the city, on my beautiful two and half days R&R. Even got to screw with some humans."
"We'd be a right old elementalist team then. Be sure to keep my eyes for someone with /those/ powers next time I'm on the mainland," Pyro says, pulling the plastic wrap off one of the games. "Which might be soon," he says slyly. "Magneto said we can plan a boys' night out. You interested?" The wrap off, he crumples it up and tosses it into the pile of the other garbage. "So... what about these humans then?"
"Sounds like a plan, my man." Padraig rhymes, as he begins to connect the console to the TV and plug it in, careful to keep his power back. "Wait. Boy's night out? You /do/ know what happened on the last one, right?" 'Cube plugged in, he begins to explain. "Met that cop Rossi, who was on the news? Tried to get a rise out of him, and failed. However, met a random woman, chatted her up and kinda crushed her by pointing out I don't screw genetic antiques. Just a bit of fun, really."
"Magneto said as long as we didn't get in /trouble/..." Pyro trails off, smirking slightly. He listens details, nodding. "Well, yeah, guess I /am/ a bit anxious to get off for a bit. Didn't really realize it until lying around yesterday."
"Last time I ended up torching the bar," Padraig notes. "and Fred smashed a hole through the wall. We got away from the cops." He shrugs. "Obviously." is the afterthought. Everything is plugged in, SCART in place and TV ready to rock. "Just to spread your wings a bit, right? Everyone gets a bit antsy around the edges, occasionally. Chuck us Super Smash, would you?"
Pyro flips through the games and yanks the plastic off the chosen one before tossing it to Padraig. "Man, if I were you, I'd be terrified to touch anything electronic. So glad I have to turn mine /on/, y'know?"
Padraig chuckles, throwing an altogether amused look at Pyro. "It's not so bad these days, since I've been learning much better control. Not wrecking these pads takes hardly any concentration." Shoulders lift into a shrug as he tosses one pad towards the couch, wire trailing behind it. He skips up to his feet, pottering to another seat. "Though I know what you mean. Annoys me something chronic sometimes. The most depressing thing? Not being able to sleep next to someone, for fear of killing them. Though in a fight?"
"There is that, yeah," Pyro admits. "I get knocked out, I'm done for. With or without a fire around, I guess." He scoops up the control, glancing it over, then toward the TV screen. "What's this one like? Never played this version."
Padraig brings a teasing edge to his voice. "Unlucky. Though if you /are/ ever injured, at least you can get dragged out nice and easy, unlike muggins here. Poor sod charged with dragging me is just going to get hurt." He leans back into the couch, fingers stretching around the pad. "Super Smash Brothers Melee. You'll probably want to start with Samus or someone with some range." He rapidly explains the controls, muttering quietly about the lack of unlocked characters. "So I shall begin with Link, crap as he is."
"Samus, I remember him. Or her, I guess," Pyro nods, sliding the flashing box over toward the proffered character. "The new Zelda coming out soon is supposed to be pretty good. Couple of the kids... back /there/ were all into games and everything," he says, letting himself trail off with that last bit.
"Well, you'd imagine they get plenty of time to mess about and do nothing." Padraig says, voice twitching with scorn. Link is prepared, Link is ready, and Padraig sets the two mutants on the same team. "You missing it at all yet? Guess you probably had some friends or something there. I just hope you can fight them if you need to."
"Course I can," Pyro scowls, maybe a bit too hastily. "Made my own choice to come here, didn't I?"
"Sure," Padraig notes, somewhat reassuringly and apologetically. "Shouldn't really be questioning you. You were there for Tarantino prison. Sorry."
"Eh, sorry," Pyro shrugs, staring at the controller in his hand. "Didn't mean to jump down your throat like that. Yeah, had friends there. Guess I'll have to face them someday too. Worst part is just knowing that they won't understand. Can't make 'em, or they'd be here too."
Padraig waves the controller dismissively, beginning to do really quite horrible things to the local Pikachu with Link's sword. "Relax, man. When it happens, you'll be with at least some of us." He nods as the lightning rat is removed from the screen. "No matter what those others say, you're where you - damnit, Link, - belong. Remember why you're here, and tell them."
Meanwhile, in another part of the Screen, Samus is stuck beating his head against a wall. Well, actually Pyro is trying to figure out the jump move, but the attempts do look rather comical. "Yeah, glad there's people around my age. Or close. Working with you helps a lot."
The Irishman offers a quick hint on how not smash /her/ head against the wall, before turning to take on the dreaded Kirby that is flying high above the battlefield. "Well, there's people closer to your age, but not your mentality, I guess. And thanks, I think. Glad to be of service." He tips a vastly humoured look over to Pyro. "What do you reckon? Another couple of weeks 'til I'm a senior?" Then he laughs.
"Oh, I'd guess tomorrow morning," Pyro smirks, finally getting the character to leap up over the wall. And right down the pit on the other side. "Dammit. Maybe I should have taken someone that can fly," he comments, as his character respawns in the air above, and he pulls out the gun and begins shooting at the floating marshmallow.
Padraig says, "She can. B and up. Kinda." Padraig advises, "Does the spinny thing for an extra jump." Somewhat like the way Link is spinning round and around and upwards, missing Kirby completely. Padraig swears quietly and gets back on that pesky lightning rat. "Well, you never know." A derisive snort. "I'm not ready, much as I'd like to be. I'm not trained enough or experienced enough. No-one is, I think."
Pyro watches the character ball up, smacking into the Kirby. "Ah, cool. Man, she's /limber/..." He trails off, glancing between the screen and the Irishman. "Yeah, don't know if there ever is a ready. Seems like there might just be training and missions. And you make do with whatever you've got then."
"Totally. Fit as well, under that suit." says Padraig, in all seriousness. Smack. Hyah! Bye bye, Pika-rat. Oh, and Link falls off. "Idiot green little git." is muttered, before Padraig brings his attentiont back to the pyrokinetic. "There is ready. When you're respected, seasoned, well-trained and ready to help Magneto lead the scum. I think. I dunno. Not like I'm going to bring it up in casual conversation with him. Not after the wall."
"He's gotta be Irish, you know," Pyro says. "What with all that green tunic." He's doing a fair job of keeping his own character on the screen. And then comes big-mouthed Kirby. "HEY," he shouts at the screen as he gets sucked into that pink blob. "Forgot about that move. You really want to lead around here?" he asks curiously. "Seems hard enough just to keep my own ass out of trouble, let alone everyone else's."
"Pfft." Padraig hisses, "Link's not worthy of the title. Little elf gimp." As seen by the really quite poor showing the green boy is making of trying to hit Kirby whilst Samus is trapped inside. "Well, leading's got to be nice. I'd rather show my talents for ideas and stuff rather than just following." Shoulders lift into a shrug. "Besides, senior's get to wander off-island at will. It's not leading, necessarily, but the proof that you're worthy, at least for me. 'Sides, already admitted I'm not ready." But the mutants are inexorably winning against the lightning rat and the marshmellow.
"Ah, one of the wee folk," Pyro winks. But the distraction isn't helpful, and he leaps the character right off the edge. "Yeah, well, that'd part'd be right nice, for sure. How long have you been here anyways?"
Padraig's head tips down to his watch. "Four months, two days, sixteen hours and... five minutes. Ish. Back in the days when Bella was Sabella, and Magneto told me to wear my seatbelt. Seems an aeon ago." Wistful, almost, remembrance in his eyes as Pikachu takes his revenge and flings Link from off the screen. "Shit! Goddamit. Gonna have you for that, you little yellow turd."
PIKKKAA-CHUUUUUUU. Bzzzap. Samus get's in a nice large bolt off onto the rat before leaping out of the way. "You shall be avenged," Pyro crows. "Are we /supposed/ to keep it timed out?"
"Cheers, St.John." Padraig thanks wryly, as Link makes his reappearance on his last life. Fortunately, Pikachu is gone, dead, and the Marshmellow is on his last legs. "Dunno. Guess it's just one of those things. A timer from the moment my real life began. I just wish there was a countdown for the moment when we finally get what we want."
Pyro pauses to look across the room, ignoring the game for a moment. "Well then, what /do/ you want, Padraig?"
"Mutants as a ruling class." Padraig asserts, "The humans to recognise our superiority. The humans to cease and desist in their fruitless attempts to tread down the mutant population by registration and other Nazi tactics." A sneer crosses his face, before determination sets in. "To follow Magneto and his Cause, and to prove to the world that we are better."
Bam, bam, bam. The laser fires off three rapid shots, only one of which actually hits the pink bubble from hell. "Countdown. Hell, that'd be nice. Or at least to see that we're making a difference. Not that I've really been around long enough to /make one/ yet, but, well, y'know...."
Link rushes in, sword flailing like a mad thing, and he leaps, spinning into his sword attack. And he misses. Padraig does not appear to have the hang of that attack. A quietly muttered curse crosses the room. "We are making a difference. We scare them, that's our job. We fight against people who oppose us. You have already made a difference, you were part of the team who brought back four more loyal members. Three more." he amends. "By the time the war is over, we'll be jaded, wrecked. But we'll have made a better future for other mutants." Spoken like a true fanatic.
Samus whirls through the air, smacking Kirby's underside and sending it flying off the screen. GAME POINT echos through the room. "And maybe we'll just live long enough to see it," Pyro shrugs. "But yeah, I guess we /did/ do good work there. One little triumph at a time, eh?"
"Shot, sir." Padraig compliments, with a broad grin delivered over to Pyro. "We should, if we're not stupid. Stupidity gets people killed. That, and clever enemies." A few nods are sent St.John's way, as the Irish hits back a few times, breaking into a yawn, which he stifles quickly. "Damnit, I need a nap. We did great work there, no injuries or anything. That's how things /should/ work. Not like when we fought the X-Men."
Pyro's face tightens ever so slightly at that. "W-when was that?" he asks, trying to act casual despite whatever vibes he might be sending out. He twists the controlers cord around his fingers as he leans back on the couch, waiting for an answer.
"A while back. They took out some guy with big, white wings." Padraig explains. "Me, Derek and Chrome were in the weights room, lights went out, so we investigated. Someone called... Storm(?) hit me with a lightning bolt, which buzzed me up crazy. Then my muscles ceased to work. Then, apparently, Jean Grey did some flashy orange thing and sent me unconscious. In fact, I was the last one left compus, I think. And it was all here, on the island." A wide gesture with the controller accepts his resignation.
Pyro nods slowly. "Yeah, few rumors got out around the school. Guess I'd forgotten about that." He falls silent a long moment, then bursts out with a "Dammit, Blitz, what id I'm /not/ ready? Easy enough to say I am, and I'd never go back to that--don't even want to. But still, the thought of even running into one of them in a pizza joint or something gives me chills. And I'm sure I'm sounding like this nansy coward now. Dammit."
Happily tossing the controller back towards the 'Cube, Padraig's grin is brought up short by the outburst. His face goes level, his tone matches. "Next time you are on the mainland, meet with one of them purposefully. I will come with you. We'll kick seven shades out of them, after explaining oh-so nicely that their beliefs are utter crap." Deadly serious, blue eyes locked onto the younger mutant. Padraig switches to something like authoritarian. "You /will/ be ready."
Pyro is silent for a long time, visibly wrestling with the idea, not letting himself look at the other. "I'll do it." The whisper finally slips past his lips, the words themselves an icy cool contrasting his very nature. He holds his head up, meeting the other's gaze. "Okay, I'll do it. Soon. I've already got the night off permission. So soon." Before I chicken out, is left unsaid.
"Sooner the better." Padraig agrees. He nods, once, quickly and with some pride. "Pick yourself a target. Someone who'd be willing to meet with you. Us. I'll only step in if I'm needed." A vicious smile spreads across his face, eyes alighting with dark humour. "And a good time will be had by all."
"Good time," Pyro repeats the words, as if trying to convince himself of that fact. "Guess I need to show myself I can do it, though. Promise me we can get a drink or two first, okay?"
Padraig shrugs. "If you reckon you need the Dutch courage, then sure." Slightly mocking, but he does nod. "Still got that fake ID from when I first met you?"
Pyro's eyes shift, and he smirks. "Man, you did call me right from that first night, heh? Yeah, I've got it somewhere. But... yeah, let's do this. I'll figure out who to call and we can go. This weekend, okay?"
"Whenever you want," Padraig says, with a slight pause. "Pyro." He nods again, more lighthearted humour drifting into his expression and voice. "Got you from the word 'go', man. Hell, not like you really look twenty one. Sorry, pal."
Pyro snorts at that. "Guess not all of us can have superior genes /and/ looks, mate." He glances back at the screen. "Well, you ready for another round then?"
"Well," Padraig begins, Timote-flicking his hair, "I /do/ have a reputation to maintain." Link is making another appearance, but this time it's one on one. "Bring it, bitch."
(Thanks to Padraig for cleaning the log)
Sometimes I just wonder what the hell I've gotten myself into. How can something feel SO right and SO wrong at the same time? I told Blitz I can't go back. Or Won't go back. Probably some of both. What Magneto is doing is right. It's what's got to be done. And no one back at Xavier's will ever understand that.
Guess I already screwed them all over once. What's one more time?
I need to lay off the video games.
Well, from all appearances, Pyro had been likely playing some game or another, at least if the controller on the floor beneath his fallen hand is any indicator. Right now, he can be found sprawled out on one of the couches, head tilted back in what /cannot/ be a comfortable position. From the heavy breathing and closed eyelids, though, it doesn't seem like he's minding all that much.
"Wakey wakey, you lazy little git!" Padraig calls out as he enters the room, spotting the crumpled form. A jaunty step brings him into the rec room, resplendant in jeans and a scruffy T-shirt, and bearing a broad grin. A large box is balanced on one hand, with plastic bags below it. "Gamecube." he announces, proudly.
Pyro slowly pries one eye open, followed by the other. "Wassn sleeepin," he murmers. "Juss ressin my eyes." He pushes himself back up to a seated position, wincing as he stretches his neck, blinking a number of times. "Welcome back," he says before rubbing his eyes.
"Bullshit." Padraig accuses, good naturedly. Take one box, begin ripping it apart quickly. "And thanks. Been back a while now, and still I'm in a beautiful mood. Anything interesting happen during my,-" Rip. Fling that cardboard. "Absence?"
"Eh, Lu was... Lu, Creed's been in a dandy mood. Magneto tried to kill me," Pyro shrugs. "Nothing special," he comments, as he watches the other's progress on the box.
The Irishman pauses in his disassembly of the box, and his head snaps round. "You too? Why?" Interest flickers across his features, head tipping to the side as he searches the younger mutant's face.
"Well, not really," Pyro grins. "I think he called it testing my powers. But the way he was flinging that sheeting at me, sure felt like he was. On the plus side, discovered I can basically swim in the fire. Least if it was in hand-to-hand, could make sure no one came near me. Not sure if it was that or the pounding over the head with the steel that landed me with the meddies for the day."
Padraig knits his brows into a quick frown, before returning to unpackaging the Gamecube. "Swim? You mean engulf yourself in it?" The latter receives a quick grin. "Hey, at least we get proper training, eh? No pain, no time off."
"Justa day, at that. Well, I guess two, now," Pyro quickly corrects himself. Was in the infirm all yesterday, and am to take it easy today. Killer headache. And I think you're right, too, about using my powers and the metabolism thing. Felt like I was half-starved all day yesterday after putting out so much. Toss me one and I can unwrap something too. Not an invalid."
Padraig nods as he unwraps, grabbing the plastic bag, which contains a number of games, and tossing it towards Pyro. "It's nice to chill, occasionally. Though training's good fun as well. You should see me with that sword." A little self-satisfied smile, and he tips a look towards the couch. "All day? You must've been wiped. But I'm glad I was right; you throwing down the protein shakes and sugary stuff, right? Keep yourself pumped on energy so you can function."
"All day yesterday," Pyro nods. "He plays rough. But think it was as much my doing as his. Really felt like I hadn't eaten in weeks afterwards. Gawd, I love big fires," Pyro smirks, snatching the bag from the air and pulling out the games, beginning to sift through them. "Good stuff. Where'd you pick this up?"
"Wouldn't be training if it just tickled." Padraig notes, with a little chuckle to himself, as the 'Cube is pulled out, and the Irishman begins to sort through wires. His tone becomes more amused. "Fires are awesome. Fire and lightning we got, now. All we need is water and earth." Eyes flick towards the TV, searching for the plugs he needs. "In the city, on my beautiful two and half days R&R. Even got to screw with some humans."
"We'd be a right old elementalist team then. Be sure to keep my eyes for someone with /those/ powers next time I'm on the mainland," Pyro says, pulling the plastic wrap off one of the games. "Which might be soon," he says slyly. "Magneto said we can plan a boys' night out. You interested?" The wrap off, he crumples it up and tosses it into the pile of the other garbage. "So... what about these humans then?"
"Sounds like a plan, my man." Padraig rhymes, as he begins to connect the console to the TV and plug it in, careful to keep his power back. "Wait. Boy's night out? You /do/ know what happened on the last one, right?" 'Cube plugged in, he begins to explain. "Met that cop Rossi, who was on the news? Tried to get a rise out of him, and failed. However, met a random woman, chatted her up and kinda crushed her by pointing out I don't screw genetic antiques. Just a bit of fun, really."
"Magneto said as long as we didn't get in /trouble/..." Pyro trails off, smirking slightly. He listens details, nodding. "Well, yeah, guess I /am/ a bit anxious to get off for a bit. Didn't really realize it until lying around yesterday."
"Last time I ended up torching the bar," Padraig notes. "and Fred smashed a hole through the wall. We got away from the cops." He shrugs. "Obviously." is the afterthought. Everything is plugged in, SCART in place and TV ready to rock. "Just to spread your wings a bit, right? Everyone gets a bit antsy around the edges, occasionally. Chuck us Super Smash, would you?"
Pyro flips through the games and yanks the plastic off the chosen one before tossing it to Padraig. "Man, if I were you, I'd be terrified to touch anything electronic. So glad I have to turn mine /on/, y'know?"
Padraig chuckles, throwing an altogether amused look at Pyro. "It's not so bad these days, since I've been learning much better control. Not wrecking these pads takes hardly any concentration." Shoulders lift into a shrug as he tosses one pad towards the couch, wire trailing behind it. He skips up to his feet, pottering to another seat. "Though I know what you mean. Annoys me something chronic sometimes. The most depressing thing? Not being able to sleep next to someone, for fear of killing them. Though in a fight?"
"There is that, yeah," Pyro admits. "I get knocked out, I'm done for. With or without a fire around, I guess." He scoops up the control, glancing it over, then toward the TV screen. "What's this one like? Never played this version."
Padraig brings a teasing edge to his voice. "Unlucky. Though if you /are/ ever injured, at least you can get dragged out nice and easy, unlike muggins here. Poor sod charged with dragging me is just going to get hurt." He leans back into the couch, fingers stretching around the pad. "Super Smash Brothers Melee. You'll probably want to start with Samus or someone with some range." He rapidly explains the controls, muttering quietly about the lack of unlocked characters. "So I shall begin with Link, crap as he is."
"Samus, I remember him. Or her, I guess," Pyro nods, sliding the flashing box over toward the proffered character. "The new Zelda coming out soon is supposed to be pretty good. Couple of the kids... back /there/ were all into games and everything," he says, letting himself trail off with that last bit.
"Well, you'd imagine they get plenty of time to mess about and do nothing." Padraig says, voice twitching with scorn. Link is prepared, Link is ready, and Padraig sets the two mutants on the same team. "You missing it at all yet? Guess you probably had some friends or something there. I just hope you can fight them if you need to."
"Course I can," Pyro scowls, maybe a bit too hastily. "Made my own choice to come here, didn't I?"
"Sure," Padraig notes, somewhat reassuringly and apologetically. "Shouldn't really be questioning you. You were there for Tarantino prison. Sorry."
"Eh, sorry," Pyro shrugs, staring at the controller in his hand. "Didn't mean to jump down your throat like that. Yeah, had friends there. Guess I'll have to face them someday too. Worst part is just knowing that they won't understand. Can't make 'em, or they'd be here too."
Padraig waves the controller dismissively, beginning to do really quite horrible things to the local Pikachu with Link's sword. "Relax, man. When it happens, you'll be with at least some of us." He nods as the lightning rat is removed from the screen. "No matter what those others say, you're where you - damnit, Link, - belong. Remember why you're here, and tell them."
Meanwhile, in another part of the Screen, Samus is stuck beating his head against a wall. Well, actually Pyro is trying to figure out the jump move, but the attempts do look rather comical. "Yeah, glad there's people around my age. Or close. Working with you helps a lot."
The Irishman offers a quick hint on how not smash /her/ head against the wall, before turning to take on the dreaded Kirby that is flying high above the battlefield. "Well, there's people closer to your age, but not your mentality, I guess. And thanks, I think. Glad to be of service." He tips a vastly humoured look over to Pyro. "What do you reckon? Another couple of weeks 'til I'm a senior?" Then he laughs.
"Oh, I'd guess tomorrow morning," Pyro smirks, finally getting the character to leap up over the wall. And right down the pit on the other side. "Dammit. Maybe I should have taken someone that can fly," he comments, as his character respawns in the air above, and he pulls out the gun and begins shooting at the floating marshmallow.
Padraig says, "She can. B and up. Kinda." Padraig advises, "Does the spinny thing for an extra jump." Somewhat like the way Link is spinning round and around and upwards, missing Kirby completely. Padraig swears quietly and gets back on that pesky lightning rat. "Well, you never know." A derisive snort. "I'm not ready, much as I'd like to be. I'm not trained enough or experienced enough. No-one is, I think."
Pyro watches the character ball up, smacking into the Kirby. "Ah, cool. Man, she's /limber/..." He trails off, glancing between the screen and the Irishman. "Yeah, don't know if there ever is a ready. Seems like there might just be training and missions. And you make do with whatever you've got then."
"Totally. Fit as well, under that suit." says Padraig, in all seriousness. Smack. Hyah! Bye bye, Pika-rat. Oh, and Link falls off. "Idiot green little git." is muttered, before Padraig brings his attentiont back to the pyrokinetic. "There is ready. When you're respected, seasoned, well-trained and ready to help Magneto lead the scum. I think. I dunno. Not like I'm going to bring it up in casual conversation with him. Not after the wall."
"He's gotta be Irish, you know," Pyro says. "What with all that green tunic." He's doing a fair job of keeping his own character on the screen. And then comes big-mouthed Kirby. "HEY," he shouts at the screen as he gets sucked into that pink blob. "Forgot about that move. You really want to lead around here?" he asks curiously. "Seems hard enough just to keep my own ass out of trouble, let alone everyone else's."
"Pfft." Padraig hisses, "Link's not worthy of the title. Little elf gimp." As seen by the really quite poor showing the green boy is making of trying to hit Kirby whilst Samus is trapped inside. "Well, leading's got to be nice. I'd rather show my talents for ideas and stuff rather than just following." Shoulders lift into a shrug. "Besides, senior's get to wander off-island at will. It's not leading, necessarily, but the proof that you're worthy, at least for me. 'Sides, already admitted I'm not ready." But the mutants are inexorably winning against the lightning rat and the marshmellow.
"Ah, one of the wee folk," Pyro winks. But the distraction isn't helpful, and he leaps the character right off the edge. "Yeah, well, that'd part'd be right nice, for sure. How long have you been here anyways?"
Padraig's head tips down to his watch. "Four months, two days, sixteen hours and... five minutes. Ish. Back in the days when Bella was Sabella, and Magneto told me to wear my seatbelt. Seems an aeon ago." Wistful, almost, remembrance in his eyes as Pikachu takes his revenge and flings Link from off the screen. "Shit! Goddamit. Gonna have you for that, you little yellow turd."
PIKKKAA-CHUUUUUUU. Bzzzap. Samus get's in a nice large bolt off onto the rat before leaping out of the way. "You shall be avenged," Pyro crows. "Are we /supposed/ to keep it timed out?"
"Cheers, St.John." Padraig thanks wryly, as Link makes his reappearance on his last life. Fortunately, Pikachu is gone, dead, and the Marshmellow is on his last legs. "Dunno. Guess it's just one of those things. A timer from the moment my real life began. I just wish there was a countdown for the moment when we finally get what we want."
Pyro pauses to look across the room, ignoring the game for a moment. "Well then, what /do/ you want, Padraig?"
"Mutants as a ruling class." Padraig asserts, "The humans to recognise our superiority. The humans to cease and desist in their fruitless attempts to tread down the mutant population by registration and other Nazi tactics." A sneer crosses his face, before determination sets in. "To follow Magneto and his Cause, and to prove to the world that we are better."
Bam, bam, bam. The laser fires off three rapid shots, only one of which actually hits the pink bubble from hell. "Countdown. Hell, that'd be nice. Or at least to see that we're making a difference. Not that I've really been around long enough to /make one/ yet, but, well, y'know...."
Link rushes in, sword flailing like a mad thing, and he leaps, spinning into his sword attack. And he misses. Padraig does not appear to have the hang of that attack. A quietly muttered curse crosses the room. "We are making a difference. We scare them, that's our job. We fight against people who oppose us. You have already made a difference, you were part of the team who brought back four more loyal members. Three more." he amends. "By the time the war is over, we'll be jaded, wrecked. But we'll have made a better future for other mutants." Spoken like a true fanatic.
Samus whirls through the air, smacking Kirby's underside and sending it flying off the screen. GAME POINT echos through the room. "And maybe we'll just live long enough to see it," Pyro shrugs. "But yeah, I guess we /did/ do good work there. One little triumph at a time, eh?"
"Shot, sir." Padraig compliments, with a broad grin delivered over to Pyro. "We should, if we're not stupid. Stupidity gets people killed. That, and clever enemies." A few nods are sent St.John's way, as the Irish hits back a few times, breaking into a yawn, which he stifles quickly. "Damnit, I need a nap. We did great work there, no injuries or anything. That's how things /should/ work. Not like when we fought the X-Men."
Pyro's face tightens ever so slightly at that. "W-when was that?" he asks, trying to act casual despite whatever vibes he might be sending out. He twists the controlers cord around his fingers as he leans back on the couch, waiting for an answer.
"A while back. They took out some guy with big, white wings." Padraig explains. "Me, Derek and Chrome were in the weights room, lights went out, so we investigated. Someone called... Storm(?) hit me with a lightning bolt, which buzzed me up crazy. Then my muscles ceased to work. Then, apparently, Jean Grey did some flashy orange thing and sent me unconscious. In fact, I was the last one left compus, I think. And it was all here, on the island." A wide gesture with the controller accepts his resignation.
Pyro nods slowly. "Yeah, few rumors got out around the school. Guess I'd forgotten about that." He falls silent a long moment, then bursts out with a "Dammit, Blitz, what id I'm /not/ ready? Easy enough to say I am, and I'd never go back to that--don't even want to. But still, the thought of even running into one of them in a pizza joint or something gives me chills. And I'm sure I'm sounding like this nansy coward now. Dammit."
Happily tossing the controller back towards the 'Cube, Padraig's grin is brought up short by the outburst. His face goes level, his tone matches. "Next time you are on the mainland, meet with one of them purposefully. I will come with you. We'll kick seven shades out of them, after explaining oh-so nicely that their beliefs are utter crap." Deadly serious, blue eyes locked onto the younger mutant. Padraig switches to something like authoritarian. "You /will/ be ready."
Pyro is silent for a long time, visibly wrestling with the idea, not letting himself look at the other. "I'll do it." The whisper finally slips past his lips, the words themselves an icy cool contrasting his very nature. He holds his head up, meeting the other's gaze. "Okay, I'll do it. Soon. I've already got the night off permission. So soon." Before I chicken out, is left unsaid.
"Sooner the better." Padraig agrees. He nods, once, quickly and with some pride. "Pick yourself a target. Someone who'd be willing to meet with you. Us. I'll only step in if I'm needed." A vicious smile spreads across his face, eyes alighting with dark humour. "And a good time will be had by all."
"Good time," Pyro repeats the words, as if trying to convince himself of that fact. "Guess I need to show myself I can do it, though. Promise me we can get a drink or two first, okay?"
Padraig shrugs. "If you reckon you need the Dutch courage, then sure." Slightly mocking, but he does nod. "Still got that fake ID from when I first met you?"
Pyro's eyes shift, and he smirks. "Man, you did call me right from that first night, heh? Yeah, I've got it somewhere. But... yeah, let's do this. I'll figure out who to call and we can go. This weekend, okay?"
"Whenever you want," Padraig says, with a slight pause. "Pyro." He nods again, more lighthearted humour drifting into his expression and voice. "Got you from the word 'go', man. Hell, not like you really look twenty one. Sorry, pal."
Pyro snorts at that. "Guess not all of us can have superior genes /and/ looks, mate." He glances back at the screen. "Well, you ready for another round then?"
"Well," Padraig begins, Timote-flicking his hair, "I /do/ have a reputation to maintain." Link is making another appearance, but this time it's one on one. "Bring it, bitch."
(Thanks to Padraig for cleaning the log)