god_of_hellfire | Recent Entries

Make sure you dress nice, that text had said. Right. Because he had so many options.

John had gotten smarter, on his own. Without someone like Magneto backing him, he couldn't very well walk around with a flame thrower on his back. He had to dress lowkey, blend in. But getting snatched up once, early on, had taught him a valuable lesson about being powerless. So when he went to meet Esme, he did so prepared. Superficially, it was jeans, a graphic tee, and a hoodie over Chucks. They were clean, without holes, and that was the nicest he was going to get.

The bomber glasses reflected the decaying, abandoned strip mall back. It had once been the site of a number of mutant businesses, before.

That's how he kept thinking about it. Before, and After. He gave himself a shake, tugging his lighter out of his pocket to fidget with as he leaned against the shell of a payphone.

Semester exams had a way of sucking the life out of the student body, and after the last one on Friday, there seemed to be some unspoken agreement that the guys would get together to blow off some steam. Had it been left to Piotr or Bobby, they'd be inside playing foosball. But since it was John and Julian pushing this little shin-dig, they were the ones who picked the location and activity.

Okay, it wasn't that organized. John had been heading back to his room when Julian had roped him into nicking beer from the teachers' pantry. John had gone along with it because fuck, what else was he going to say? No? Some sneaking around and herding later, and the group of guys were outside at the wading pool, out of easy sight of the teachers and well into their illicit haul.

Texting Charlie had been, well. Buzzed John was not always clever John, even if he'd try to convince you otherwise. But she had said she'd come and now he was stupidly waiting, for her, and to see if Julian got caught lifting a fifth of Jack.

St. John Allerdyce

(no subject)

teenage shenanigans