Wanda and Pyro - Backdated
Nov. 28th, 2018 10:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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ax_mainWanda and Pyro both have shit to deal with, in the aftermath of Yorkland.
Dirty, sweaty, and feeling as if she had cobwebs in her hair, Wanda plopped down the box of garbage she'd hauled up from the basement. "How's there?" she asked Pyro. Who, apparently, had had just as disconcerting a fantasy experience as she had, herself, considering that he'd actually come and asked her for something to do.
Given the fact that she couldn't remember the rec room ever having been cleaner? She was guessing that disconcerting was probably putting it mildly. So, rooftop bonfire.
Besides, it kept her from having to get involved in whatever other drama was happening downstairs.
"Goodbye, trash," was Pyro's answer, before he lit his Zippo and sent a stream of flame into that box, to see what it could catch. They'd made sure to add easy combustibles here and there, so he wouldn't have to do all the work. Fire was better when it was free, if you asked him. Sometimes it just needed a little help, and that was where he came in.
Unsurprisingly, the box ignited without difficulty, and Wanda smiled as the flames began to tickle upwards. "Nice," she offered up. She sat down and leaned against the plastic storage bin they'd brought up there a few years earlier to hold crap they were always hauling up with them; barbecue tools and chair cushions and beach towels and shit. Half the time she forgot the stuff was in there, but at least it made a good backrest.
Pyro didn't reply anything, but after spending a few seconds watching (and feeling) the fire burn, he stepped over to Wanda to lean beside her, shoulders touching.
Wanda stayed silent for a while, watching the way the burning paper (one of her old collage projects from s few years back, and why had she kept it this long?) folded and crinkled in on itself as it burned. "I tracked down a dragon," she offered finally, her voice flat, casual. "Me and Scott Summers. Who I was...with."
Pyro frowned at the fire for a beat, and then asked, "With with?"
"You sound like a middle schooler," Wanda pointed out in lieu of an answer, but nodded a moment later. "Always said he'd have fit in here fine if Dad had found him first. Nice to know I was right."
Pyro frowned at her initial response, but kept his mouth shut when she went on talking. Then he looked at her, and asked, even if that kept making him sound like a middle schooler, "You like him?"
"We play pool." Wanda sighed and tilted her head back. "I'm having a hard time reconciling that and the fact he's head over heels for his girlfriend with a long term relationship and mindblowing sex."
Pyro wrinkled his nose; way too much information about Alex's brother's sex life. "I'm sorry," he sympathized, anyway. But then, he had to add, "You deserve better, anyway."
"We're Brotherhood," Wanda pointed out with a trace of a tired smile. "When the fuck do we ever get what we deserve?"
We're Brotherhood, Pyro could hear himself telling Yana. We don't steal from each other. Yana, not Mage. Had he gotten what he deserved? Tears pricked at the back of his eyes, and he swallowed them down before they could properly shine in his eyes. "That's bullshit," he only said. "Look at Q and Lance."
Wanda let out a snort of amusement. "Point. They definitely got what they deserved, huh? Each other. Maybe since they're both Brotherhood it cancels out." She turned her head to look at him. "Not you and Illyana, though?" she guessed. That would explain his cleaning spree, and the fact that they were both looking kind of shell shocked.
On the other hand, the rumor she'd heard about the thief who'd been hung in the market would, too. She didn't know it had anything to do with Pyro - but someone had mentioned the guy having burned off a guard's beard. She wasn't ruling out the possibility.
Pyro was quiet for a moment, then admitted, "I don't know." Another pause, and, "She probably deserves better."
"Why would you say that?" Wanda asked, her forehead furrowing. If anything, she figured it was the other way around.
Pyro frowned, as if the very effort of trying to find an answer to her question was painful. "I don't know," he settled on repeating, with a shake of his head. "My head's all jumbled. I don't think it's doing well with that extra set of bullshit memories."
"Yeah, I get that." She looked back to the fire, knowing Pyro was usually more willing to talk if he didn't have to make eye contact while doing it. "You knew her there, then?"
"I don't get why you weren't here," Pyro replied, feeling that weight press down on his lungs again. He couldn't help but think that if Wanda had been there, she might have been able to help. She wouldn't have let him hang.
"Probably because Pietro and I got separated," she speculated, and glanced over at him sidelong. "What was "here", there?"
"Thieves' Guild," Pyro replied, swallowing reflexively against the memory of the rope. Just focus on the fire.
"Heh. Yeah, I suppose - most of us are thieves," Wanda acknowledged. She was quiet for a while, staring into the flames, and when she spoke, her voice was soft. "That was you then, I'm guessing?"
Pyro frowned at her. "What was me?"
Wanda took a breath, exhaled, and met Pyro's eyes. "When I got back from my dragon slaying mission, the marketplace was buzzing about a thief. One who did shit with fire. He...they'd hanged him."
"Uh, yeah," he confirmed, his throat tight again, and looked back to the fire.
Wanda choked down the lump that rose up in her throat, and turned back to look at the fire as well. He'd died. No wonder...she shook her head. Beating herself up over not having done anything when she hadn't even known him wan't going to help anything. Instead of saying anything yet, she wrapped her arm around his back and rubbed his shoulder.
Pyro tensed when she touched him, but after just a couple of seconds, he gave in and turned into her. His arms went around her as he buried his face against her shoulder and tried (and failed) to hold back the tears.
Tears welled up in Wanda's eyes and she closed them, tight, and she tightened her arms around Pyro and tilted her head in against his. And resolved, silently, that nothing like that was going to happen here. Not if there was anything she could do to stop it. She just wished she'd been in a position to stop it, there.
Dirty, sweaty, and feeling as if she had cobwebs in her hair, Wanda plopped down the box of garbage she'd hauled up from the basement. "How's there?" she asked Pyro. Who, apparently, had had just as disconcerting a fantasy experience as she had, herself, considering that he'd actually come and asked her for something to do.
Given the fact that she couldn't remember the rec room ever having been cleaner? She was guessing that disconcerting was probably putting it mildly. So, rooftop bonfire.
Besides, it kept her from having to get involved in whatever other drama was happening downstairs.
"Goodbye, trash," was Pyro's answer, before he lit his Zippo and sent a stream of flame into that box, to see what it could catch. They'd made sure to add easy combustibles here and there, so he wouldn't have to do all the work. Fire was better when it was free, if you asked him. Sometimes it just needed a little help, and that was where he came in.
Unsurprisingly, the box ignited without difficulty, and Wanda smiled as the flames began to tickle upwards. "Nice," she offered up. She sat down and leaned against the plastic storage bin they'd brought up there a few years earlier to hold crap they were always hauling up with them; barbecue tools and chair cushions and beach towels and shit. Half the time she forgot the stuff was in there, but at least it made a good backrest.
Pyro didn't reply anything, but after spending a few seconds watching (and feeling) the fire burn, he stepped over to Wanda to lean beside her, shoulders touching.
Wanda stayed silent for a while, watching the way the burning paper (one of her old collage projects from s few years back, and why had she kept it this long?) folded and crinkled in on itself as it burned. "I tracked down a dragon," she offered finally, her voice flat, casual. "Me and Scott Summers. Who I was...with."
Pyro frowned at the fire for a beat, and then asked, "With with?"
"You sound like a middle schooler," Wanda pointed out in lieu of an answer, but nodded a moment later. "Always said he'd have fit in here fine if Dad had found him first. Nice to know I was right."
Pyro frowned at her initial response, but kept his mouth shut when she went on talking. Then he looked at her, and asked, even if that kept making him sound like a middle schooler, "You like him?"
"We play pool." Wanda sighed and tilted her head back. "I'm having a hard time reconciling that and the fact he's head over heels for his girlfriend with a long term relationship and mindblowing sex."
Pyro wrinkled his nose; way too much information about Alex's brother's sex life. "I'm sorry," he sympathized, anyway. But then, he had to add, "You deserve better, anyway."
"We're Brotherhood," Wanda pointed out with a trace of a tired smile. "When the fuck do we ever get what we deserve?"
We're Brotherhood, Pyro could hear himself telling Yana. We don't steal from each other. Yana, not Mage. Had he gotten what he deserved? Tears pricked at the back of his eyes, and he swallowed them down before they could properly shine in his eyes. "That's bullshit," he only said. "Look at Q and Lance."
Wanda let out a snort of amusement. "Point. They definitely got what they deserved, huh? Each other. Maybe since they're both Brotherhood it cancels out." She turned her head to look at him. "Not you and Illyana, though?" she guessed. That would explain his cleaning spree, and the fact that they were both looking kind of shell shocked.
On the other hand, the rumor she'd heard about the thief who'd been hung in the market would, too. She didn't know it had anything to do with Pyro - but someone had mentioned the guy having burned off a guard's beard. She wasn't ruling out the possibility.
Pyro was quiet for a moment, then admitted, "I don't know." Another pause, and, "She probably deserves better."
"Why would you say that?" Wanda asked, her forehead furrowing. If anything, she figured it was the other way around.
Pyro frowned, as if the very effort of trying to find an answer to her question was painful. "I don't know," he settled on repeating, with a shake of his head. "My head's all jumbled. I don't think it's doing well with that extra set of bullshit memories."
"Yeah, I get that." She looked back to the fire, knowing Pyro was usually more willing to talk if he didn't have to make eye contact while doing it. "You knew her there, then?"
"I don't get why you weren't here," Pyro replied, feeling that weight press down on his lungs again. He couldn't help but think that if Wanda had been there, she might have been able to help. She wouldn't have let him hang.
"Probably because Pietro and I got separated," she speculated, and glanced over at him sidelong. "What was "here", there?"
"Thieves' Guild," Pyro replied, swallowing reflexively against the memory of the rope. Just focus on the fire.
"Heh. Yeah, I suppose - most of us are thieves," Wanda acknowledged. She was quiet for a while, staring into the flames, and when she spoke, her voice was soft. "That was you then, I'm guessing?"
Pyro frowned at her. "What was me?"
Wanda took a breath, exhaled, and met Pyro's eyes. "When I got back from my dragon slaying mission, the marketplace was buzzing about a thief. One who did shit with fire. He...they'd hanged him."
"Uh, yeah," he confirmed, his throat tight again, and looked back to the fire.
Wanda choked down the lump that rose up in her throat, and turned back to look at the fire as well. He'd died. No wonder...she shook her head. Beating herself up over not having done anything when she hadn't even known him wan't going to help anything. Instead of saying anything yet, she wrapped her arm around his back and rubbed his shoulder.
Pyro tensed when she touched him, but after just a couple of seconds, he gave in and turned into her. His arms went around her as he buried his face against her shoulder and tried (and failed) to hold back the tears.
Tears welled up in Wanda's eyes and she closed them, tight, and she tightened her arms around Pyro and tilted her head in against his. And resolved, silently, that nothing like that was going to happen here. Not if there was anything she could do to stop it. She just wished she'd been in a position to stop it, there.
