Disclaimer: "What're you going to do today, Odin?" "Oh, I think I'll rip my eye out after lunch." "Jolly good!"

(An: Ok, here's my list of Stuph You Need To Know for this story: It's probably going to be long. I have wanted to do a HT fic -forever- and thus I have a lot I want to fit in. But the chapters are going to be short- bite-sized, if you will. I'm not going to deal with the whole "Phoenix Saga". Why? There is no plot. None at all.This is set a while after the Apocalypse debacle, two months or so. The main couples are: Romy, Jonda, Kiotr, Tabietro, Jubby, Rahm, and Storge. The first three are going to be slow, in my odd attempt to make this a bit more believable. No accents will be codified. The only ones I can really do and not feel like a prat for murdering the chars are Remy and Rogue's. If I tried Pyro or Kurt's I'd mangle it so badly I'd probably go into FF remission.)

Ch. 1: The New Tenant (Swirling Shit Vortex)

The Brotherhood wasn't sure what to expect when Pyro showed up on their doorstep. He was ringing the bell, a duffel bag over one shoulder. He was dressed normally except for the flame-proof goggles stuck in his hair.

Lance hesitantly opened the door. For a moment, none of them spoke, and Pyro just stood there, blinking and feeling quite out of place.

Wanda endured this for a second, and then spoke up. "What are you doing here?"

Pyro grinned and fished around in his pocket for a second, then came out with a crumpled piece of newspaper. "I'm here about the ad, sheila."

Wanda forced a smile. "Er, just a second." She shut the door, then gestured the guys back a bit from the door. "What ad?" She began tapping her foot and glaring.

Pietro stepped up with a nervous grin. He and his twin got along... barely. "Uh, well, money's been tight, you know..."

"So you put an ad. In the paper. Where any idiot- more specifically that idiot- could see it? What were you thinking!"

"We were thinking along the lines of 'being kicked out'," Lance interjected. "We're broke!"

"Can't we just tell him to go away or something?" Todd suggested from his spot on the couch.

"Er..." said Pietro.

"We need the money," Lance insisted. "He's a freak, but he's a freak with money... besides, if he breaks the rules we can just kick him out."

"Fine, but if this sucks us into some kind of swirling shit vortex... I'm not helping."

The Brotherhood once again clustered behind the door and Lance once again pushed it open. "Sorry about that," said Pietro.

Pyro blinked. "So can I have the room?" He waved his wallet. "I have my first month's rent..."

"Yeah, sure, buddy, now come on, follow me," Pietro said all of this very fast and dashed back inside the house.

"Completely mental," Pyro muttered under his breath, as he shifted his bag and followed.

"Ok, this is the living room," Pietro gestured to where Todd and Fred were sitting, watching with minor interest, "the kitchen- be careful in there, the roof is iffy and the oven has yet to recieve its exorcism," he gestured at that room, where the defunct table and chairs were looking like they might collapse at any moment, "the stairs, be careful here too," he led Pyro up said stairs and into a hallway, "and here're the rooms. Mine, Wanda's, Lance's, Todd's, Fred's, Mystique's, and here's the empty one." He gestured at the closed door. "It used to be Rogue's, and we haven't opened it since she left."

"Why not?" Pyro asked, opening the door.

Pietro peered inside, then thumbed at the black paint on the walls and the various objects scattered across the floor. "Same reason we haven't touched Mystique's, even though she's long gone: we don't know what'll kill us or else we'd have sold all this stuff for money already. Whatever's in there you can keep. The rent please?"

"Yeah, yeah, ya bugger," Pyro muttered. He handed him a wad of money, then walked into his room.

"Wahoo!" Pietro ran down the stairs, exulting about the money.

Pyro blinked, and then shrugged. "Crazy bugger," he muttered.

A few moments later Lance came up the stairs. He leaned against the opposite wall and watched Pyro unpack. "All right," he said. "Pietro's an idiot. He didn't tell you the house rules, did he?"

"Nope," said Pyro. "They would be...?"

"Rule one: Don't go into anyone else's room, unless they ask you in... and if they ask you in, it's probably a good time to run. But that's not the point. Rule two: You have to get a job. When you get paid, you have to put a third into the jar by the TV. Rule three: No showing off. You can use your powers, but only in an emergency or when you're alone. The last thing we need is mutant protestors showing up at our door. That's pretty much it."

"Right then," said Pyro. Having unpacked, he looked around his room. "Do you guys have anything to eat?"

"About that... Pietro was right about the stove. It's evil. We can't trust it. So basically we've been existing off of cold ravioli and fast food."

"Well that's ok then," said Pyro, heading downstairs. "That's what the Acolytes lived off too."

"Ok, wait," said Lance, catching up. "You guys are supposedly this elite group of well-payed mutant terrorists... and you live off pasta?"

"Yep," said Pyro, walking into the kitchen. "We weren't all that well payed, really, and Magneto was gone so much that we never got our paychecks on time. Remy couldn't get a job 'cause he was an obvious mutant, Piotr barely spoke English, and Vic and Jason were evil and had their own money. So I was the only one who could get a job, and the places that would take me didn't pay well."

"What's up with the past tense, yo?" Todd asked, cocking his head. He was sitting on the table watching this whole exchange.

"Isn't it obvious? The Acolytes are finished. Mags cut our contracts, released the blackmail crap, and sent us out into the world with compensation and a scowl." He pulled a soda out of the fridge.

"So if it was so terrible, why didn't you just quit while you were ahead?" Lance asked.

Pyro rolled his eyes over his soda. "Blackmail, isn't it obvious? Remy had some evil family thing, I destroyed half of my hometown, and Piotr's little sister was in the hospital. Loooong story."

"Where're the other Acolytes anyway?"

"Remy and Pete're tryin' to join the X-men and Viccy and Jason are probably still in the base, in Jason's 'happy place'."

"His what, yo?"

"The little place in his mind that he goes when he's depressed."

Lance looked around, then leaned in closer to Pyro. "There was one thing I forgot. You can't say anything to Wanda about her wiped memories. She knows who you are because we've had involvement with Mystique and all, but in her mind she's never met you before today."

"So the sheila doesn't remember that whole mess at the ski slope or the bridge?"

"Nope."

"Interestin'..." Pyro smirked. Just then, Wanda came in. She grabbed a soda out of the fridge. "Well, speak of the sheila."

"The name's Wanda, Pyro," Wanda snapped.

"And mine's John."

"John?" Wanda echoed.

"Yeah, ya got a problem with that?"

"You look too... insane to have a name like 'John'," Wanda replied.

"She's got a point," Lance agreed.

"Technically, my name's St. John," John replied. "But in Aussie, that works out ta be 'Singein'. But nobody ever gets that right, so I just stick with John, usually. And don't give me the weird looks, you lot asked for it."

"Ok..." said Wanda.

John shrugged. "Aussies are weird. Go figure." With that he walked out.

"They should make a movie about that, yo," said Todd. "Like, 'Close Encounters of the Australian Kind.'"

"I heard that!"

"I get the idea that nothing around here is ever going to be the same..." Lance said.

"Yep."

(And that is that. There will be daily updates for a week... and then who knows? Please, review; it'll get more interesting.)