flames of passion. ( pyro! )

[bamon]

<sub>Rogue sighed deeply as she sat at the bar. She had to get out of the institute. Sometimes it felt so suffocating there that she just had to get out. Sometimes it felt like she was isolated there. Sure, she knew she was doing good there and it was the right place to be. However she didn't actually feel wanted there. She missed the feeling of family, and god help her but she had felt that with the Brotherhood. Minus the bad things they did and Mystique manipulating her, everyone there had felt like family. Mystique felt like her mother, Pyro had been the older brother. Of course when she was younger and had first met Pyro she had actually had a crush on him. Of course she had grown out of it since then. She was smitten with Remy LeBeau and hoped they'd end up being a proper couple.

Still, she missed the feeling of family she had at the Brotherhood. She couldn't help but wonder what the others were doing. Picking up her bottle of beer she took another swig before letting it thud against the bar top. She was glad it was late at night. With it being one in the morning there was barely anyone about, and with it being so dark she could easily hide. That was what she liked about it. She could hide and be unnoticeable. With her flame red hair and white streaks at the front it made it easy for her to stand out. Rogue was dressed in a pair of floor length black trousers, black knee length leather boots mostly hidden beneath the trousers, a red vest top, and a black hoodie on top with the hood up covering her hair which was currently in a neat ponytail. Of course Rogue also wore the standards wrist length black gloves, thus covering every inch of her skin besides her face.

Flipping open her phone Rogue found herself biting her bottom lip as she scrolled through her list of friend contacts - all from the Brotherhood. Her good mind knew she shouldn't go back to the Brotherhood. She couldn't do anything but good for the world now. However her heart yurned to go back to her family. Right then all she wanted was to be in the Brotherhood living room, curled up in Pyro's arms, and laughing with everyone as they talked about everything and nothing. She sighed in exasperation at herself, shutting her phone and shoving it back into her hoodie pocket. What would Remy think anyway if she went back to the Brotherhood? She couldn't risk whatever possibility she had right now to date Remy. Finishing off her third beer she ordered another, hoping she could eventually drown her sorrows.</sub>

[pyro]

***

"Urgh... come on, you stupid thin'" Pyro grumbled, cigarette lolling between his lips, the skin of his thumb going raw from the amount of times he had pressed it against the flint wheel of his lighter, only to get the same result each time: no spark. It was evident to anyone who crossed the pyrokinetic's path that he was becoming frustrated without his nicotine fix, and the ailing lighter wasn't helping the situation one bit. He continued to struggle as he wandered down another street, the cold seemingly directing him toward the open door of the first establishment he crossed, where he continued to attempt to spark his lighter to life, all the while cursing under his breath every time he failed. So pissed off was he that the smell of alcohol didn't even register with him, nor did the three knocks he received to the shoulder as someone passed him by to the exit of said establishment.

The only thing that did manage to get his attention was a disgruntled voice, and only when he eventually realized it was directed at him, "Excuse me, sir, there's no smoking..." the pyrokinetic's eyes shot up, and in the direction of a barman, before frantically taking in his new environment, realizing where he had ended up in his absentmindedness. "Huh..." he stood in the middle of the bar, bemused at this sudden turn of events, and then turning back to the barman, "Not smokin' mate, just sparkin' up, no laws against that" he grinned. Normally Pyro would have turned, and walked back outside again. He wasn't a huge fan of drinking, except on rare occasions, like when he had finally returned from the Middle-East, and ended up getting completely drunk along with Avalanche and the Blob. That was something worth celebrating, and on such occasions Pyro set aside his distaste for alcohol, and kept his eyes off the amount he consumed.

While he had nothing to celebrate as of late, he choose to remain where he was, circling the counter, and sliding himself into the closest empty seat, thumb still repeatedly pressing against the flint wheel, cigarette still hanging from between his lips. "You know you'll have to take that outside" the barman pointed out, and it was a good thing Pyro's lighter continued to malfunction, otherwise the spark that may have resulted from it would have been directed right at the dark haired man, suffering with the early stages of male-patterned baldness, and failing to see the necessity in lifting his finger to move his spectacles back up along the bridge of his nose, so they were actually situated in front of his eyes. Pyro had difficulties separating his emotions from his powers, and while he tried his utmost to keep his temper in check, he had been annoyed enough before, and was growing more annoyed now.

"Ya, I got it, mate" he practically growled at him, shuffling off his black coat, and tugging at the sleeves of his dark brown sweater, which stood out absurdly against his faded blue jeans. Of course, this wasn't something the pyrokinetic would notice. He had never been particularly vain when it came to clothes, years spent on the streets of New York taught him that, and anything he managed to get his hands on when he woke up in the morning would spend the rest of the day on him. He was especially confined to such clothing combinations during the winter, lacking in that particular clothing department, but considering where he was born, and the amount of time he had actually spent in a shopping mall, it was no surprise that most of the clothes he did possess were mostly better suited to the summer months. "You going to order anything?" if this guy had any idea of how annoyed his most recent customer was, he would stop talking right now.

Pyro had left Brotherhood Headquarters because not only had he been suffering with the worst case of writer's block all day, the kids gathered in the living room directly under his bedroom were not helping things. Getting out seemed like the best course of action, take a stroll in Central Park, have a few cigarettes, free up his mind a little. But no, something had it in for him today, and if Pyro believed in karma, he would blame that. "Bottle o' Fosters, if it doesn't put ya out too much" he practically barked back at the bartender, who strolled off toward the refrigerator for the beer Pyro had requested. He only agreed to the drink to shut that annoying barman up, he had no intention of staying for more than one. In any case, it was one o'clock in the morning, which didn't leave enough time to get tipsy, never mind drunk. Then Pyro noticed a hooded figure at the corner of his eye, snapping their phone shut, and stashing it in their pocket, before ordering another beer.

That was when Pyro noted the female tones, and the unmistakable hint of a Southern twang, which was all too familiar to him. "Stood up, darlin'?" he questioned as the barman returned with another drink for the girl sitting beside the pyrokinetic, as well as the beer he had requested.

***

TAG: Rogue
WORDS: 873
NOTES: Bye-bye writer's block ;D

[bamon]

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Rogue rambled before downing the rest of her sixth beer. She didn't even notice that at this point most people in the bar were listening to her. Nor did she realise that quite a few of them were anti-mutant and simply waiting to hear what ability she had before they went in to attack. Rogue ordered a seventh beer, her arms folded on the wooden bar top before she let her face meet the bar top as she groaned sadly. She lifted her head up again, tears gathering in the corners of her chocolate brown eyes.

"Ya know whats worse? Ah can't even touch anyone! Its not fair. Ah want romance, love... a handshake... a kiss... a hug, an' ah can't do any of that 'cos if meh skin comes into contact with anyone else's ah'll steal their life force. Meh power activated during my first kiss... poor sod's in a coma. Didn't even know whats happenin'. Meh or 'im. Almost killed another... that was on purpose though... Ah was in a bad place there. God, if ah could just have one night to be able to touch without hurtin' anyone... ah'd do anything for it. Ah could literally die a virgin. Ah could die without knowing a lover's kiss... Ah could die without feeling a hug from a friend... It sucks."

She grabbed her seventh beer and downed it in one. It was at this point a few male patrons stood up. Fortunately Rogue had an oblivious saviour. His voice caused Rogue's face to light up. She spun clumsily around in the stool to come face to face with Pyro. She squealed in excitement and launched herself at him, her arms wrapping around his neck. She couldn't believe he was here. Of course Rogue wouldn't be surprised if she was imagining him here considering how drunk she was. Now that she thought about Rogue couldn't remember ever being drunk before. The thought passed as quickly as it had come. She nuzzled his covered neck, clinging to him like he was her only lifeline.

"You're 'ere! Ah thought ah'd never see ya again!"

Rogue exclaimed, beaming from ear to ear as she tilted her head back to look up at him as she sat pretty much on his lap. He own stool had fallen to the floor with a clatter when she had launched herself at him. Her beer bottle had also fallen onto the bar top sideways spilling the rest of her beer during her launch at Johnny.

"Ah missed ya. Ya... ya've never called meh... None of ya... Don't you like meh anymore?"

She asked, the saddest and most innocent look on her face that couldn't melt the coldest of hearts as tears gathered in her eyes.

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[pyro]

***

She was drunk, Pyro had realized. No sooner had the question left his lips that he quickly noted her posture in the chair she was sitting, and was just as quickly able to come to the conclusion that one too many drinks had been poured down her throat. John may not have been as good at reading people as Destiny would have liked him to be, but he was good enough for his age. This was a perfect example of why Pyro despised alcohol so much, not only for the effects it had on his abilities, but for the effects it had on the person consuming it. It might have been capable of keeping the drinker cheerful for a time, but it soon became a depressant after an excessive amount was downed, never mind how it impacted on the temperament of a person, something John was only too familiar with.

But then the girl started talking, and the fact she was drunk soon became the least of his concerns. He might have put her rambling down to just that, inane drunken rambling, were it not for that accent, that startlingly familiar accent. As close as Pyro was to his teammates, Avalanche in particular, he wasn't as close to Mystique and Destiny as he would have been to his earth shattering friend, his corpulent comrade and his dear Ro'. He cared for those three a hell of a lot more than he would ever admit, and a hell of a lot more than he liked. They were like brothers and a sister to him, and were the closest thing Pyro had to a family after his own had stabbed him in the back. And there was no denying when he heard that voice, all those familial feelings came roaring to the surface in place of the disappointment he felt when Rogue too turned her back on him.

"Ah mean with the Brotherhood ah had a family. Sure, they ain't the most human friendly people in the world, an' sure they hav' done some pretty bad things but it felt like a family", a part of him wanted to stand up, throw a forced apologetic smile at the bartender, before brushing her comments aside as the inane drunken rambling they were to everyone else listening, and escort her out of the bar. But another part of him wanted to hear what she had to say about her teammates. She may have walked away from them, but that didn't change the fact the pyrokinetic had missed her since the day she did walk away. John even missed his own mother sometimes, in spite of what that woman did to him. However, his first instinct quickly kicked back in as he noticed just how many people were listening to the Southern Belle, and at the precise moment she spelled out her abilities in black and white too.

"Ya know whats worse? Ah can't even touch anyone! Its not fair. Ah want romance, love... a handshake... a kiss... a hug, an' ah can't do any of that 'cos if meh skin comes into contact with anyone else's ah'll steal their life force", though, that omission would probably do her more good than harm. Whether the homo sapiens gathered in the bar, all eyeing the drunken absorption mutant in a way that John could easily identify, believed her or not, they hated Pyro and Rogue's kind so much they probably wouldn't run the risk of finding out anyway. Unless... "God, if ah could just have one night to be able to touch without hurtin' anyone... ah'd do anything for it", and no matter how much humans might have hated mutants, no man in their right mind would turn down such an invite from Rogue, and with that several of the burly patrons stood on their feet, but that the precise moment she had caught his question.

But before Pyro could even acknowledge the dark brown eyes that landed on him, a pair of arms locked around his neck, as a nose nuzzled into the skin there, fortunately covered by the sweater he was wearing. Then again, Pyro wasn't as scared as others were whenever Rogue was in close proximity to them. No matter how dangerous her powers were, she had been his teammate, his friend, his family, so how could he possibly be afraid of her? "You're 'ere! Ah thought ah'd never see ya again!" he heard her exclamation before those chocolate brown eyes of hers found his again, and the men started to edge away at the sight of the beautiful Southerner sitting on his lap. "Ah missed ya. Ya... ya've never called meh... None of ya... Don't you like meh anymore?" the question she posed would have come as a big surprise to him were she not so inebriated. Of course he still loved the girl, but as a member of the X-Men now, she simply couldn't be trusted.

"Now don' ya go lookin' at me like that, Rogue my lovely" he couldn't help but chuckle at that sorrowful expression on her face, the tears glazing her eyes over adding to the effect, "you're one of dem now, Ro', can't be trusted an' all that" he smiled up at her, only to have his attention dragged from her again as the bartender positioned himself in front of the pyrokinetic once more, even more disgruntled than he had been before. "You're cleaning that up, pal!" he barked, as Pyro made an expression that could be best summed up in three words: what the fuck? But then the pyrokinetic caught sight of the overturned barstool, and the spilt beer coating the counter, and his reaction was to double over in laughter. "In your dreams, mate... if y' think I'm cleanin' that up, then y' got anotha think comin'" that was the only way he knew to react to a human telling him what to do, he had enough problems with mutants telling him what to do.

"Get out!" the bartender barked again, his arms straight, and practically glued to his side. Either this guy hadn't gotten any in a long time, and judging by his appearance that wouldn't have been surprising, or, he didn't know the first thing about bar management. "Someone's got your briefs in a bunch" Pyro snickered, attempting to ease Rogue off his lap, "Come on chickie, I think you've 'ad enough for one nigh'" he chuckled.

***

TAG: Rogue
WORDS: 1,072
NOTES: On the fence with this one

[bamon]

[/b]

A heartwrenching sob wracked through her body as she spun around, her drunken mind already making plans to run away.

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[pyro]

***

As Pyro was about to help Rogue out the door, she grabbed a hold of the overturned bottle of beer, unaware she had spilt the contents of it all over the counter, and there was none left to be consumed. Upon realizing this she dropped the bottle, which landed on the counter with a resounding clatter that set the bartender off again, as Rogue stumbled out of the bar. "Jus' when I thought you couldn't get anymore uptigh'" Pyro snickered at the barman, pushing himself up from the stool he was occupying, prepared to follow Rogue until that annoying little man barked at him again. "You better pay for those" he yelled at the pyrokinetic, who went rigid for a moment, before the idea of roasting the guy entered his mind. Unfortunately his lighter was currently out of commission, so with a forced smile, he turned back to the barman, slamming a twenty dollar note on the counter. "Keep the change" he muttered through gritted teeth.

However, in the time it had taken him to cover the costs of his and Rogue's last beer, the Southern Belle had vanished from the bar. As he stuck his head out the door, looking up and down the street, she didn't seem to be in sight. "Jus' peachy" he muttered to himself, stepping back outside into the cold, spotting an oncoming couple. Maybe it was simply his cravings for a cigarette that kicked in, but the closer the pair got, the more the pyrokinetic could pick up on the scent of cigarette smoke. Presuming the tall and gangly young man, with badly bleached blonde hair, was the smoker, Pyro's hand managed to find his pocket, his fingers grabbing a hold of, not only a lighter stashed there, but a carton of cigarettes too. "Excuse me, mate?" quickly disguising the items behind his back, Pyro called out to the guy he had just stolen from, "You didn' 'appen ta spot a real pretty brunette, did ya? Southern accen', white bangs?" he asked, almost feeling bad that he had just lifted the guy, who proceeded to point him in the direction of the car park.

And there she was, tears flooding down her cheeks, having just buried her fist in a pickup truck, leaving a massive dent in the vehicle, which would have been enough to send anyone running, but Pyro had known Rogue for some time now, and as frightening as her powers were, they didn't frighten him. The sight of her crying was enough to keep him walking straight up to her anyway, he wasn't about to leave her in some dark parking lot, situated right outside a bar full of drunk and horny customers, in such a state. She could stare daggers at him all she wanted, scream at him to the point her throat was sore, he wasn't about to walk in the opposite direction. He let her get it all out of her system, slowing his pace slightly to give her more time, while he placed a cigarette between his lips, and sparked up. To his delight, this lighter seemed to be working, and he was relieved to finally be able to inhale that sweet smoke into his lungs, as it were oxygen he had been deprived of all this time.

When it seemed she was done, he held out the carton of cigarettes for her to take one, "I know some people are of the opinion that suckin' smoke inta yer lungs will kill ya... but I meself find it very relaxin'" he chuckled, "so... am I righ' in assumin' that workin' for the good guys ain't as much fun as it's cracked up ta be?" he asked, walking around the pickup truck, and pulling himself up onto the bonnet to sit there for a moment. "What exactly were you expectin' when ya joined up with 'em? For 'em ta welcome ya with open arms?" he asked, arching his eyebrow, and taking another drag of his cigarette. "Reality check, chickie, did ya really think they were jus' goin' ta forget all you did in the past? That if you 'elped them, then that would be your slate wiped clean?" he asked, flicking away the excess ash. "Sorry ta burst yer bubble, darlin'... as much as I'd luv ta take ya home with me, I'm afraid that's ou' of the question" he said, sliding off the hood to inspect the damage that had been done to the vehicle, wondering if it would be easier to break in to now.

"Think we oughta bring ya back to the mansion, aye, chickie?" he suggested.

***

TAG: Rogue
WORDS: 770
NOTES: Nope!

[bamon]

[/b]

Rogue snapped back at Pyro, tears rolling down her cheeks. She just felt so sad and lonely. Pyro was definately not helping matters either. She would have thought he out of anyone would understand and be nice to her. Clearly she had been wrong. She had hoped the relationships she built within the Brotherhood would never disintergrate. All she wanted was a cuddle, someone to understand what she felt and her position, but she couldn't even find that. Whimpering she turned away from Pyro and sat down on the concrete. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her legs as she buried her face into her knees. Not for the first time in her life she wished she didn't have her power. She wished she had something, anything, else. Closing her eyes tightly she found herself blocking out the outside world and submerging herself within her mind. There was the psyches of every mutant and human she had ever absorbed. The strongest was Carol. However there was Wolverine in there. One male that wasn't completely mean as he would like to appear as.

( OOC: Sorry, this is all I have managed to come up with so far. I really don't know what else to say. =/ )

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