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pass3rby · 7 years ago

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Element of Surprise

Fandom: X-men (movies) Pairing: Allerdrake (Pyro/Iceman) Summary: Everybody has to make decisions. Decisions that might or might not work out. He wasn’t in a habit of looking back either way.

When he'd chosen The Brotherhood, he knew what he was getting into – well, at least the basics. The life of an insider was far from idyllic, but that wasn't what John expected or even asked for.

The Brotherhood of Mutants was a radical organization, that was without a question. Any other group John could compare it with were the X-men and those two couldn't've been more different. The Brotherhood went with militaristic type of modus operandi, willing to do "what was necessary". X-men were basically Greenpeace fellowship attempting to convince everyone to sign peace treaties by appearing non-threatening, whimsically risking their lives and being on their best behavior the rest of the time.

Neither of them was without a dark side.

Sometimes he had to wonder why the world seemed to always take only black or white side, insisting on being such, although in reality, both of those were a great mix of shades of gray. Pretentious liars, all of them.

John had no problem openly admitting that he belonged amongst the darker lot (not anymore, no more hiding); probably the reason why he never fit into the to-be pow pow power rangers' group of eager students at the mansion.

It was refreshing to find his place here and so easily. He was amongst people who'd grown up through, more or less, the same and therefore the inner rules amongst them were pretty much the ones he knew well already. Made it easy to navigate through and to find his way around many of them without being caught, too. No neat, polite shtick he couldn't get used to at the prep-school. The Brotherhood was more of a welcoming place to him than the school ever was.

For all the negative portrayal of 'Magneto's army', the place wasn't all viciousness and bloodthirst or whatever the outsiders had them for. It had its order and a well-functioning system that actually discouraged from infighting. Competitiveness was encouraged, but not the kind that would be to the detriment of the organization.

True, not exactly a breeding ground for everlasting friendships, but that wasn't what John joined for anyway so, the absence of a "friendly support group" (or even an individual) didn't raise a wave of sudden regret or anything.

After the Alkali Lake, it was a somewhat downtime for The Brotherhood. The "quiet before storm" Magneto called it, which "would be a waste not to use to their advance". Cue Magneto's most loyal, shapeshifting leutenant having been entrusted with his training not much later.

He was to get better at his art. However, Mystique made it no secret that she was reluctant to take him up as her student.

"Just train him, my dear. Let him feel what it truly is like to be a mutant with no bounds or shackles on."

So she did (as simple as that).

Which only brought him back to the observation business; it was only natural. Rubbing two braincells together would be enough to see why. He didn't know a thing about the woman – anyone here, really, so watching shit was a key point to self-preservation.

So he did (as simple as that, yes).

While Mystique wasn't the easiest to start with, it couldn't go any other way since she was the person he spent the most time with now. Better make it count.

What he learned pretty fast was that she would never go against Magneto's wishes or commands, but she was also high enough in the foodchain that she felt secure enough to tell her own opinion. He liked the promise of that. That said, even after getting with his facts-hunt as far as he was probably ever gonna get, he would not pretend to understand her – she was an enigma in her own right. But she sure was one not to be messed with, that was a given.

When the shapeshifting menace wasn't training him, she was out on some "errand" or other or chided (i.e. kicked asses of) those who were challenging the rules here. Which supplied him with at least tidbits about her fighting style. Better than nothing and nothing it would be, because for one reason or another, the woman didn't spar with him – ever. She was just basically showing him ropes and waited if he'll climb or fall.

In no time at all, she proved to be a no bullshit kind of woman. Focused and always finishing whatever she started. According to the local grapevine missions included. Good news for his training that; not so much for him. That trickster could change from calm to Fury itself; posed to hateful in a blink of an eye. Yeah, not an ad for fun times. She was fair, though – if offensively.

As for Magneto, he got used to the man being elusive not only to his enemies but also his followers. That was not to say that they never saw him, no. Magneto regularly checked on his footsoldiers and those who were higher up, got to see him in person and even more often since they got called to him whenever he needed them to carry out any of his orders.

That said, the organization's residents were still more in contact with Mystique. Being second in command turned you into something of a bridge between a leader and the rest fo the merry band. Speaking of.

Considering his own "run-ins" with her and personality preferences, the conclusion couldn't be anything less than as blunt as the person it was about. Mystique was endearingly unpleasant in his eye, but it was clear that the feeling wasn't a shared one. Either people seemed to respect Mystique or fear her and keep their mouth shut. As for the other side of the fence, there was no need to even get into that.

Watching her and Magneto interact, her (already noticed but doubted at first) endless loyalty to him came as a honestly dumbfounding factor. Trust, that people like them didn't give easily or that often at all was passed over almost like a common currency. But that couldn't be it.

Mystique wasn't a person who would blindly follow anyone – of that much he was sure. He'd put his hand into fire (or icebucket, whatever) on that one even. Seeing her do it, though, was like being given a cue and he found himself following her example.

She was indirectly telling him how to behave; act and react to certain aspects, how important each of them was in the large scale of things. That wasn't to say that he mindlessly followed. It was just something he himself could trust to. Not to Magneto. Not to Mystique. But to what showed through between them.

If there was something worth reliance for her, he'll play it the smartest (and safest) to go with it.

For now.

#marvel #x-men #allerdrake #pyro/iceman #eos

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pass3rby · 7 years ago

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Element of Surprise

Fandom: X-men (movies) Pairing: Allerdrake (Pyro/Iceman) Summary: Everybody has to make decisions. Decisions that might or might not work out. He wasn’t in a habit of looking back either way.

A/N:

Greatest thanks to my brother from another mother for bestowing an infectious prompt upon me and all the wretched jokes that accompanied his insightful comments. You’ve been a great help and an ass at the same time. The rest of my gratitude belongs to my dear family who has an immaculate sense of recognizing each highlight and “I saw the light!” moment of my writing, reliably and effectively ruining every single one of them. You’ve been an invaluable teacher of forced multitasking (which I still fail at spectacularly). Thank you, guys, for harassing me at the most unfortunately-picked times imaginable but standing by me still. Love you.

St. John Allerdyce was a survivalist. And this might be a very sucky way to begin one's story, but he was nothing but cut-the-crap kind of guy, so go deal.

Where was he again? Ah, yes. Good at the pretend game, he knew how to play tough; easily irked when deprived of a fire source. Bad-tempered, really. All of these stellar qualities went well with him being a realist to the bone. Wrap it up and ship it off.

He wasn't confessing all that out of some twisted delusion of having a chance at redemption, though. Wanting to save his tar-dark soul? No. It was only so that when he says that he's done morally questionable things to pull through, it would be clear that it was no slip up, not a 'few times' kind of deal. He's actually done them more often than not. Not that he counted; just saying. That was what he meant by being a survivalist. That was what this was about.

The main point here? He kept on going. Always found a way. Pushed. Squeezed in. Got his hands dirty. Gritted his teeth. Whatever it took. Morality was overrated where he lived; nobody abided by it anyway, so why should he? He was just a 'misfit' trying to get by, same as the next guy from a broken home.

On the streets and on his own. Making it, no matter the circumstances. That was the source of his pride. He might have turned out brash as a result, distrusting on a good day and suspicious round the clock, but who gave a shit. Certainly not him, not when it kept him alive this whole time.

When the X-men found him, he didn't feel elation; not even relief and he was far from thankful, too. He suspected the worst and he kept on running from them until they corralled him in and got him on their overly flashy and disgustingly impressive jet.

They took him in; full of reassurances that he'll be alright from then on, that he'll be safe now. Who were they to tell him that? Who were they to be so sure about it, to have balls to warrant that? What was the guarantee? Their skin-tight black&yellow spandex? If so, allow him to doubt the empty promise, because those were a sight for sore eyes – literally, just to make them sore.

Everything would work itself out and quite naturally in its usual, wary and solitary way, though (after all, once you lean onto someone, you're only bound to fall sooner or later) – if only they didn't have Bobby Drake on their "team" already.

The guy was way too cheery and overly friendly. Optimistic. An impersonification of a 'Think positive!' attitude, "Not made from concentrate, one hundred percent natural". It was almost like he was shooting for some such ad twenty-four seven. Think about the descriptive adjectives for a straight-laced goody two shoes from suburbs; you name it, he's that.

Everything was perfect.

Everything was dandy.

Bullshit.

He couldn't stand the guy. The poster boy irritated him; got on his nerves like no one else before. John was way too pragmatic to join this sort of let's pretend. But when dear Bobert started cracking, show that not everything was quite so well in his lala land… That's when John took real notice and interest.

You see, he couldn't be arsed to give a flying fuck about some fake looser, but a kid who had his whole life perfectly lined up and sorted only to get "screwed over" by mutation his parents wouldn't take well to? That was John's kind of real that he was willing to interact with.

Sure, Drake was still a sunny boy with majority of views intact and therefore headdesk-ishly naive, but he wasn't all plain "guy next door" (quotation marks because same door actually) anymore. And while John's own personality and stands had been torn down or have crumbled and been rebuilt time and time again, making him into who he was (coincidentally basically the opposite of his roommate), he and the Snowflake there suddenly had a link of communication and it held ever since then. Thus, their companionship begun.

It didn't hurt they both were element-sensitive – that wasn't to say their co-existing was a cakewalk, though. After all, like Ice and Fire, they too were diametrically different. Just a small example to draw a picture here: while Bobby was afraid of his abilities, scared of his element, John felt an undeniable thrill whenever setting free his own; he loved to see fire reign over anything in its way, watch it burn strong.

Ultimately, their mindsets resulted in both of them failing and it was all for the best that they were roommates in the end, because accidents.

Reason number two was that they were a good "confidence boost" and "recklessness dampener" (whatever) respectively for each other, too. That's what their instructors said, but if anybody asked John what it was for him, he just simply enjoyed coaxing Sub-Zero ("Very funny, you pyromaniac." "C'mon, that was weak. You'll have to do better than that, Ice Cube.") out of his shell, letting his fire frolic with its counter element. Negative and positive of the same, if you wanted to get poetic.

Of course, there was also the aspect of them both being young and as such, hormone-driven, too. He was always open to some serious self-exploring opportunity. Safe environment for that wasn't a given, not for him, and even less so in combination with someone begrudgingly-trustworthy (i.e. with no other agenda hidden behind the forementioned romping between the sheets).

It was nothing; just fooling around – one that was kept secret from their teachers and anyone, really, since Bobby-boy was too chickenshit to admit to a healthy dose of experimenting himself. John couldn't care less; he wasn't the guy's keeper after all.

Until he somehow turned out to be. What was worse? Without him even expecting it. You see, the thing was… he kinda screwed himself over. For all his puffed-up chest and big shoulders about how he was prudent and cautious, he landed himself in a swamp (or moving sand if he'd so chose to rather stay dry; same difference, though) right there. Knee deep and it was only a matter of time until it swallowed him up whole.

It was all the Ice-berk's ("I'm not stupid, John!" "Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.") fault. If he wasn't so pure and open and easy to approach – hell, he, approaching him all of his own! – in the first place, John wouldn't have fallen into this trap.

Who was he kidding. He blew it. Big time.

But it was still all good, right? What he meant was, there was no rush or anything. They could simply keep at it the way they had up til now with Ice Ice Bobby none the wiser and everyone chilling, pun intended.

He should have known that he was never meant to have a happy end. Not ever (as if life hadn't showed him enough indications to that already) and definitely not with Snow White on top of that. When had he sunken so low as to think he even could?

Shame. Shame on you, St. John Allerdyce.

As he was forced to witness and live the changes that wafted in after Rogue's appearance and continued presence, years of evolved camaraderie and any ease connected to it began to shrivel.

He had suddenly more free time on his hands than what he knew what to do with, his subconsciousness developed an almost uncontrollable need for a facepalm at least once per every 24 hour mark, his teeth were bound to rot any day now with the diabetes-inducing teenage romance developing before his eyes and he better man-the-fuck-up right now, because he did not make it this far only to become a sob story.

So, he watched with skeptical interest as Bobby, encouraged by Rogue's supporting words, froze his mother's disgustingly milk-ruined coffee instead. John knew long before they had even opened their mouths, what side Bobby's parents would pick, what their reaction would be. He could not keep his sarcastic thoughts pointed at his roommate from emerging then.

Why did you think, all of a sudden, they won't mind? We talked about your bigoted parents so many times… You think that you having a girlfriend like a good, normal teenage boy somehow neutralizes your negative mutant points?

If not knowing better, John would say Bobby did it on purpose just to fuck with him. Nobody could be that sickeningly foolish after all. And the Drakes? He silently dared them to surprise him; to call their "Art teacher" out on his blatant lie even. To prove him wrong.

Which would be when Wolverine got shot in the head right infront of them. That did surprise him, John will give them that.

An unexpected rush of everything followed right after and with startling clarity.

One too many black eyes.

Sleeping in a cardboard box, freezing (nobody cared).

Broken jaw.

Stealing a pack of matches the first time around – to get to feel at least a bit safe (they were too tricky to operate, to strike with shaking hands, wrong move there wrong wrong wrong).

Hungry, impotent anger.

Running away.

The breath; foul and heavy with booze.

First fire (pure accident please!).

His mother on the floor, bleeding (never fighting back; just taking it run!).

Heavy hands.

Cops chasing him back into slums (you'd have to know it here better to catch me, assholes).

Bloodshot bottomless eyes. A vortex about to swallow him up, too.

Events flashing before his mind's eye at random and in no chronological order.

His heart not having a foggiest how to deal with the overabundance of adrenaline that jumped up out of nowhere.

"And the rest of you, on the ground. Now."

He could almost physically feel Wolverine, right before his feet, lifeless.

See Bobby, lying down, obedient.

"Look, kid. I said, on the ground."

Rogue, too; docile.

They can't be serious. Why were they kidding themselves? They were gonna die here.

"We don't want to hurt you, kid."

Really. The fucking cop just shot Wolverine. If they won't protect themselves… They're dead. If he's not gonna do anything now…

He gulped. Palmed his zippo; the warmed-up steel that bit slicker with sweat. Or sick memory?

C'mon, Pyro, show up. Fight.

In the pit of his stomach, hot magma twisted and curled, warming him up until he could almost sense the licks of unborn fire on his fingertips.

There.

He won't lie down. Not until he's six feet under.

A/N: So I’ve found something of a themesong for EoS I think. If you’re wondering, you can check it here.

A bit of explanation on a side:

My idea is that St. John Allerdyce still has Australian background, he just moved to US with his family when he was a small kid or something. So... just bear with the little mess, please. I love him being "St. John" way too much as to delete half of it from my story.

Also, I’ll deviate a bit from the movies timeline (which is a tangle anyway) in this version (I got two total, don’t panic), which you’ll notice on the transition from X-2 movie to X-3.

#marvel #x-men #allerdrake #pyro/iceman #eos

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