Disclaimer: Still don't own X-Men. Once again, my genius plots have proved not so genius after all. Oh well. Back to the drawing board!
A/N: As promised, the story will start following Nike and Pyro for a while. But I promise that it will not take to long! This is just my way to try and keep you interested. As well as explain some things that you mught not get. Cheers!
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Pyro stood in the corner of his room, flicking his lighter on and off. He was glaring at the blond girl perched on the end of his bed.
"So," he said, "What are we going to do?"
"Well," Nike replied, "First you are going to stop flicking that lighter. It is annoying me." Pyro kept flicking. Open, flame, shut. Open, flame, shut. He smirked at Nike, daring her to say something.
"I think," Nike said, "You should stop flicking your lighter. It would be a good idea." Pyro furrowed his brow, as if trying to fight off some unseen power. Droplets of sweat appeared on his forehead, but in a minute or two, he stopped playing with his lighter, and slipped it into his pocket.
"I hate you," he muttered.
"I know," Nike replied, smiling despite his glare. "Come on, Pyro, concentrate, and forget about your lighter." Pyro did so.
"Ok," he said. "Opal can't get out, but we still need more mutants. They will not come willingly, so..." Nike finished for him, "That's where I come in. We start small, with mutants that are registered, but still living with their parents, or other family members."
"But how do we get the files, threaten the politicians?" Pyro asked sarcastically.
"No, stupid!" Nike cried.
"Well," Pyro said, "What are we going to do, then? Just waltz on in there, and take them from a drawer, while the guards look over our shoulders, making sure that we take all the right files?"
"Actually," Nike replied, "That is exactly what we are going to do." Pyro looked at her quizzically. He was about to say something, but she put a hand up. "You forget," she continued, cutting off his comment before it started, "What I can do. With a few words from me, the guards will be begging us to take the files." Pyro smiled, then laughed. With Nike there, nothing could go wrong. Or so he thought....
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Author's Note: And the plot is STILL thickening! OK, for the REALLY stupid people out there, (I know there are some) in case you haven't figured it out, Nike's power is persuasion. Does that make it make more sense? Any ways... sorry about the shortness* of the chapter, but I'm sick today (So you all have to feel sorry for me!). If you read, be kind, rewind... er... REVIEW! Even if you don't like it, tell me what I' doing wrong! Thanks!!
* Is that actually a word?
A/N: As promised, the story will start following Nike and Pyro for a while. But I promise that it will not take to long! This is just my way to try and keep you interested. As well as explain some things that you mught not get. Cheers!
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Pyro stood in the corner of his room, flicking his lighter on and off. He was glaring at the blond girl perched on the end of his bed.
"So," he said, "What are we going to do?"
"Well," Nike replied, "First you are going to stop flicking that lighter. It is annoying me." Pyro kept flicking. Open, flame, shut. Open, flame, shut. He smirked at Nike, daring her to say something.
"I think," Nike said, "You should stop flicking your lighter. It would be a good idea." Pyro furrowed his brow, as if trying to fight off some unseen power. Droplets of sweat appeared on his forehead, but in a minute or two, he stopped playing with his lighter, and slipped it into his pocket.
"I hate you," he muttered.
"I know," Nike replied, smiling despite his glare. "Come on, Pyro, concentrate, and forget about your lighter." Pyro did so.
"Ok," he said. "Opal can't get out, but we still need more mutants. They will not come willingly, so..." Nike finished for him, "That's where I come in. We start small, with mutants that are registered, but still living with their parents, or other family members."
"But how do we get the files, threaten the politicians?" Pyro asked sarcastically.
"No, stupid!" Nike cried.
"Well," Pyro said, "What are we going to do, then? Just waltz on in there, and take them from a drawer, while the guards look over our shoulders, making sure that we take all the right files?"
"Actually," Nike replied, "That is exactly what we are going to do." Pyro looked at her quizzically. He was about to say something, but she put a hand up. "You forget," she continued, cutting off his comment before it started, "What I can do. With a few words from me, the guards will be begging us to take the files." Pyro smiled, then laughed. With Nike there, nothing could go wrong. Or so he thought....
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Author's Note: And the plot is STILL thickening! OK, for the REALLY stupid people out there, (I know there are some) in case you haven't figured it out, Nike's power is persuasion. Does that make it make more sense? Any ways... sorry about the shortness* of the chapter, but I'm sick today (So you all have to feel sorry for me!). If you read, be kind, rewind... er... REVIEW! Even if you don't like it, tell me what I' doing wrong! Thanks!!
* Is that actually a word?