god_of_hellfire | (no subject)

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.

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From:

quintuplet

[ obtaining john's location is easy. even if she wasn't a powerful telepath with abilities that dramatically increase when used collectively with her sisters, reaching him still wouldn't have caused any difficulty. cell phones leave a trace, after all, and that's just one method of tracking. but that's the thing about being in a position like hers, you have a number of means at your disposal to make tasks simple. for the most part, she has the brotherhood to thank for that. though she'd say there's a differentiation between what was and what is. ]

[ before the x-men disappeared and before the hellfire club's empire crumbled, precautions were put in place, the former leaving behind a network that became the mutant underground and the latter establishing a similar network, only better. because let's be real, you only have to take one look at what the newly rebuilt hellfire club have achieved in comparison to the underground to see that. the divide now made more obvious by lorna dane's switched allegiance, along with a number of suitable others who understand that magneto was right: peace was never an option. ]

[ the humans will never accept them. they'll always live in hatred and fear and want to eradicate the x-gene by whatever means necessary, be it a special designated task force or religious mutant-hating bigots or robots built to kill. giving her and hers all the more reason to declare that the time for rolling over, running, and hiding is over. to actually go out and do something about it instead of waiting to be caught and killed — or weaponized, as the deceased doctor campbell practiced. ]

[ calling for the car to stop, the limousine rolls calmly across the parking lot, asphalt crunching beneath its tires as the vehicle pulls up alongside the curb to where john allerdyce is stood. the car now completely still, esme pushes a button to open the back passenger window. ]

My, my. Don't you clean up well.

[ it's as sarcastic as it isn't, as evidenced by the smile forming over her pink painted lips. ]

From:

god_of_hellfire

[It's unnerving, knowing that anyone can track him down. There's an itch under his skin at the constant risk of surveillance. When it's too bad, he doesn't sleep more than twenty minutes for days, until his heart starts beating too fast and his body can't take any more. He'd much rather be fighting back.

It's not unlike the sort of itch telepaths give him. That sensation of being watched, of every thought being open for someone else's critique. He doesn't get as jumpy about it as a lot of others, but that's mostly because that's wasted energy.

When the limo rolls up, he can't help but arch a brow over the tops of his shades. A brow that lifts fractionally further as the window rolls down, and despite himself, his lips pull into a smirk.

He'd had a soft spot for the Frost girls ages ago. It's the cheekiness, the tone that says that the listener gets to decide whether they're being insulted or not, because the girls just don't care. He liked that sort of sass, the bit of fire no one could stomp out.

One hand rakes through his shaggy hair automatically, before he pushes away from the wall.] Driving a limo through the slums. Bit ostentatious, don't you think?

[But he's teasing, biting down on that manic surge inside of him that recognizes an oasis when he sees one.]

From:

quintuplet

[ john giving as good as he gets causes esme's smile to widen, a huff of laughter now accompanying it as her lips skim back to reveal two straight rows of pretty white teeth. ]

Only a little.

[ or, okay, a lot. but really, what did he expect? she has money, she has power, and she has connections. any opportunity to use them and she does. besides, a good first impression is important, and while this isn't their first ever face-to-face meeting, it is since the days of the xavier school for the gifted and the x-men. so while pulling up in an expensive car might be what he says it is, it's also something else: a show of the resources at her disposal. an offer of things to come, should he formally accept. something esme very much wants him to do. ]

[ their species are scarce these days, having been forced into hiding and living like rats to avoid being picked off by agent turner and his men or sent to impregnable detainment facilities that certain mutants never come back from, and those are only a few examples of the less than pleasant reasons why. reasons she and her sisters fully intend to deal with, either in their own way as they have been doing or under the strategic orders of their antiquated seniority, the now faceless and therefore meaningless inner circle that once consisted of people such as sebastian shaw, erik lehnsherr, emma frost, donald pierce, harry leland, selene gallio, the von strucker twins, and jason wyngarde. ]

[ leaning over slightly, esme grabs the handle of the door and pulls it down before pushing it open. then back to her seat she slides, legs crossed, gesturing for john to take the one opposite. the interior of the car matching the expense of the outside with its leather seats, fully stocked bar, privacy panel, tinted glass, fiber-optic lighting, and air conditioning system. ]

Get in. We have a lot to talk about.

[ no choice, no asking. there's no need. john's already made it by showing up. all that's left to do now is seal the deal and get things moving. ]

From:

god_of_hellfire

[There's something shrewd in his eyes. As much as his former friends might have wanted to paint him as a hot-headed thug, John had always been caught between being ridiculously impulsive and prone to overthinking. It did not make for fun times in his head.

They both knew he'd be getting into the car. After all, he was standing there with just what was in his pockets. Metaphorically, and literally with nothing to go back to. Esme looked perfectly at home, perfect and poised in a way he never was. He vaguely remembered Emma Frost having a sense of effortless control about her, as if even a stray hair wouldn't have thought of disobeying her. He liked Esme's weight of personality better. Liked the way it flickered behind her eyes, like sunlight. One moment warm and comforting, the next burning.

He liked that Esme looked real. It was something that Emma Frost, with her aloofness, and Professor Xavier, with his careful kindness, and even Dr Grey, never quite managed.

Whatever conclusion he'd come to, John climbs into the limo. He doesn't wait, shutting the door firmly behind him, polite enough that it's not a slam. Dropping himself into the offered seat, he stretched out one leg, the other heel tucked close to the seat. The zippo in his hand clicks open and then shut. ] Is this about my Brotherhood retirement plan? Because I think I opted out.

[When in doubt, snark.]

From:

quintuplet

[ the impoliteness of the lighter and what he can do with it doesn't bother her in the slightest. if anything, it's intriguing to her, not frightening or worrying, as some people might think. the click and flick of the object a familiar sound that takes her back to days that no longer matter, remembering how her eyes would reflect the gleam of the fire and the metal zippo it came from as she watched john from afar, wondering if he'd ever really cut loose with it and what a magnificent thing that would be. ]

[ needless to say, she got her answer when he left the school to join the brotherhood, flourishing under magneto's tutelage, the chance erik offered him giving john the opportunity he needed to grow. to become. of course, a lot has changed since then, too. but esme isn't thinking about any of that. only of the potential john still has and how she can help him develop it just as she did with lorna dane, nudging her in all of the right directions until she embraced her true self and came into her own, no longer held back by people who didn't understand her, much like the way charles xavier and their classmates never quite understood john. ]

[ at his snarky remark about the brotherhood, esme lifts an eyebrow, regarding him for a moment before answering back. ]

You never really retired, though. Did you, Pyro? No, I'd say it was more of a unwanted redundancy than anything. [ she tips her head, smiling an affable smile. ] Lucky for you, a new position has become available. One I think you'll be quite suited to.

[ mutants unite, magneto was right, both are the same thing. only difference is, one is better at getting results than the other and in the world they live in now, nothing is more important. that said, contrary to popular belief and especially when words like "villain" are being tossed about, it's simply a matter of survival and protection, first and foremost. the homosuperior mentality comes second. ]

[ briefly taking her eyes off john, she looks ahead at the privacy panel, instructing the driver to return to the safehouse they departed from, to which her wheelman obliges. then back to their conversation she returns, clasping her hands in her lap as ice blue eyes settle on his. ]

So, let's talk about you.

From:

god_of_hellfire

[John curls his lip slightly. Redundant, indeed. Mystique had told him, usually after he pulled some stupid shit that should have gotten him killed, that his first duty was to survive. He'd done that.

His gaze drifts away from the woman in front of him. The landscape rolling by is abruptly shifting from decayed to blandly middle class. There's a sharp memory of the first safe house he'd stayed in with the reforming Brotherhood. A brownstone in the middle of the suburbs. It had been such a departure from what he'd expected.

He looks at Esme again.] Me? Well, I like long walks on the beach, champagne cocktails and mutant supremacy. Are you telling me there's something that you don't know about me, girl scout?

From:

quintuplet

No.

[ that's the ultimate advantage of being a telepath, isn't it? knowing everything about a person, even if they try to tell you otherwise. although some, she knows, would view it differently. say that it's a curse and not a gift. not her, though. because unlike others who share her ability, esme has never had to deal with it alone, the isolation being a telepath can cause not something she's ever felt, being one of five — or rather, five in one. the hardship of mastering the ability to read people's minds and the initial problem of finding it difficult, if not almost impossible, to block the voices out not something she ever had to suffer through, except for a handful of occasions. ]

[ but esme isn't counting those. the examples are different. the agony of too many voices and the pain of experiencing other people's emotions as though they were your own only ever something she's been hurt by when it was in relation to her sisters. like at senator montez's campaign when sophie and phoebe were caught by sentinel services, their voices piercingly loud as they pleaded simultaneously for her to help and for her to run. ]

[ smoothing the creases from her outfit, esme lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug. ]

I just thought maybe you'd like to tell me yourself.

[ to set him at ease. well, that and this conversation could get boringly one-sided if she just sat there picking through his mind, esme always being one of the more social of her siblings, unafraid to be apart, separate, and freethinking. for as much as she feels for sophie, phoebe, mindee, and celeste, she can't deny her craving for individuality, to be the dominant presence, her sisters sometimes just as much a pawn to her as everyone else when it comes to getting what she wants. ]

Was I wrong?

[ again, she could take the answer before he gives it if she wanted to. but instead, she waits for john to give it himself, a perfectly manicured brow arching as her head tilts sideways. ]

From:

god_of_hellfire

[He doesn't believe her.

Not that he thinks any of the Frost girls were incapable of it. He just figured that none of them would have bothered taking the time and effort to dig into his deep, dark secrets. That was the sort of thing you needed an epic, star-crossed bromance for, like Magneto and the Professor. ]

What do you want to know, Esme? It's not like exactly kept my stance secret.

[He'd always been a bit tight-lipped. He'd been closest to Bobby and Rogue in school, but even they didn't know much more than they saw on a day to day basis. Being in the Brotherhood wasn't exactly a 'sharing and caring' sort of gig. No one cared about your broken childhood, which was just the way he liked it.]

How about we talk about what you've been doing since the world went to shit?

From:

quintuplet

Oh, you know, making friends and influencing people.

[ like right now, for instance. ]

[ john certainly seems far more easy to win over than some. say, for example, marcos diaz who fought her at every turn after the revelation that she wasn't the bumbling, sweet, unassuming, new telepath with tentative control over her powers she first falsely presented herself to be. but then, she never wanted marcos on her side. why would she when she could see into his mind and know his limits? true, he might've made for a highly desirable ally had he let his darker side eclipse him completely as he did when he worked for the guerra cartel, known to all simply as “marcos who liked to burn things”, but not anymore. a pity, really. perhaps in another life, he and john might've been kindred pyromaniac spirits — and what a deadly threat against the humans that would have been. ]

[ as for the world going to shit … honestly? esme's not so sure it has. at least not for her. ]

[ yes, things are bad for their kind. the anti-mutant propaganda and hate groups and unabashed racism now more rife than ever with people like the purifiers openly roaming about and the government opting to back despicable and inhumane programs like doctor campbell's as well as funding a mutant response division that suddenly seems a lot more intent on killing than capturing. something she's partly to blame for, but whatever. the point is, for her, with the way the world is now, it's created an opportunity: a chance to be someone she wasn't and couldn't be before. ]

[ what can she say? it feels good to be young, rich, and powerful. having all of her mother's beauty is quite the plus as well, her blonde hair and blue-eyed looks just as much a tool in her arsenal as her cunning and mutant gifts. ]

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