The smoke seems thick enough to choke a man to death. The boss tells him off almost all the time for burning things he shouldn't. Does Pyro ever listen? Of course not because he's too distracted by that pretty flower in the garden just aching to engulfed in flames. Everyone gave up on Pyro a long time ago, even Magneto once he realised nothing can change this boy's thoughts of flames and ashes.
Even now he's out in Piotr's flower garden (why the guy has a flower garden outside the base confuses me). I'm staying inside, playing solitaire and watching him through the window, for my own safety. The ginger haired crazy boy seems to be having fun anyway. He's using his lighter to scorch each individual flower one at a time, waiting for one to fall to ashes before moving to the next one. Each time he laughs too, like a child.
Can't anybody else smell the smoke? Piotr is on the opposite side of the room, reading a newspaper. Sabretooth is only outside the hallway. Magneto's office is just down the hall. Yet, no-one seems to notice. Naw, they just don't care. Well, I suspect Piotr may still care but he can't be bothered to do anything about it. I don't blame him. That Pyro-no, Johnny boy-is like a mystery wrapped in an enigma. We've all tried to help him at times. I remember the time Mags locked in a room with a metal door. Didn't last long. Poor boy was screaming angrily…well, that was up until he blasted enough heat to melt the door. The rest of had the hold the guy back long enough so he wouldn't kill the boss. Then there was the time Sabes slashed his flamethrowers. He smelt of burnt fur all week. I think Piotr tried to give him a counselling session once. We really thought that would help him, well if hadn't started wondering whether Piotr was fireproof.
All in all maybe none of those things were really that helpful. I just talked to him time to time and acted friendly. Then again, there was that one time I stole all his lighters and flamethrowers. It took the guy two weeks before he remembered I was a thief and it was my fault. Even worse he didn't start screaming like I expected. Instead he burst into tears. It took about ten seconds of his painful crying I was kind of forced to run away and come back with arms full of lighters. Johnny boy had cheered up immediately…but then ran off and set light to Magneto's cape.
And that's where we are now. Just letting him do his own thing. It's probably for the best.
A sharp breeze suddenly whips through the room, almost scattering my playing cards. I look up to see Quicksilver looking out the same window. His young face twists into shock then whips round to address the Russian.
"Hey! Piotr! Pyro's burning your flowers! All of them!" He retorts hurriedly, waving his arms and pointing out the window. Piotr looks up for a second, then shakes his head and goes back to reading. Mags's white haired son drops his arms in disbelief. The guy just turns around in a flash and opens the window.
"HEY! PYRO! STOP DOING THAT OR I'LL GET MY DAD ON YOU!" he yells so fast I can barely understand him.
He's met with a strem of flames. Before the white haired idiot gets burnt further I shut the window.
"Deres no point Silver, nothing gonna stop 'im" I say.
"What? Why?" he demands.
"He's crazy, never listens. Best to lay off the guy"
"What? So you just let him destroy everything? How does that help?"
"Just leave 'im alone" I'm grumble. Seriously, doesn't he get the point?
Quicksilver shrugs and darts off someplace else. Possibly to go tell his old man but who cares.
I look back out the window. Seems Pyro got bored burning the flowers one by one, because now the whole section is burning while he sits and watches. Not even happily. Just…watching. He looks a little lonely.
So you just let him destroy everything? How does that help?"
Damn it, maybe he's right. I pack up my cards, reopen the window and jump out. I don't walk fast; don't wanna startle the guy. When I get close enough he finally looks up, right into my eyes. His bright blue eyes stay on me as I sit down beside him.
"…Sure is warm isn't it?" I chuckle weakly. He gives me a small smile.
"It's always cold anywhere else, fire keeps me warm" he mutters, looking straight at me.
"Yeah, but it's better when it's contained" I say, hoping he gets a hint.
"Maybe, but wildfire is prettier" he mutters again. John raises his hand and the fire moves. Before long the flames twist into a butterfly that flutters around his hand, then around my head. The sunlight illuminates the fiery wings, creating an even more incredible glow before fading away. I haven't really got an argument for that.
"Pretty, isn't it?" he asks.
"Yeah, it sure is"