backlash-x:

Blaze tilted her head slightly to the side at his reply.  ”Thanks…so, no other mutants who c’n set things on fire, then.  Might be th’ best f’r th’ buildin’.”  Blaze felt both a little happy and disappointed that there would be no one with similar abilities to compete with.  She was a bit startled when he suddenly brushed past her, and she put out her fire with a bit of a huff.  Did he even knowhow to help her get to her room…?

“Coming?” he called out over his shoulder, and she immediately trotted over to catch up.  So he was one of those types; the ones who didn’t like to stop for anyone.  With them, it was either catch up or go the fuck away.  Blaze had known her fair share of people like him to recognize it in him.  She was silent for a bit as she tried to match her steps to his (impossible, given the difference in the length of their strides), but curiosity won out.

“So,” she began.  ”Mind tellin’ me how ya came here?  Y’know…became a member of the Brotherhood.  How ya found it, or vice-versa.”

Wyatt looked straight ahead as he answered the girl’s question abruptly. “Yes, I mind.” He wouldnt dare tell her about himself, no, not completely. His past always seemed to have a particularly odd way of catching up with him, dragging down anyone who knew about him or his actions or abilities. So, as he had learned, and had the track record to prove it, it was best to not talk about it, for the curious’s sake.

The two mutants continued to walk in a silence that would break the nerve of the average being. Wyatt found it comforting; Blaze didnt seem like too much of a ‘people person’, so the man doubted she would be offended by it. But he could be wrong.

More time and quietness passed, and as it did, Backlash, a stride ahead of Blaze, rounded the corner of a rather large and block-y building. “We met in the middle.” He said, in regards to finding the Brotherhood. “I was in search for shelter. Magneto was in search for recruits.” The chestnut haired man reached for the front door handle, and pushed it open, allowing Blaze to squeeze through the gap. He stared out into the dark, star lit abyss, not once glancing down at the new comer. Wyatt didnt bother asking about the girl’s back story and life woes and young drama. Its not that he didnt care…

he just… didnt care.

backlash-x:

“…I see,” she said.  ”Makes sense.  Me, though, I’m jus’…bad.”  She shrugged, noticing the way he held his arms closer to his body when a particularly cold breeze blew by.  Blaze intuitively knew it was cold, but her  own internal heat prevented her from feeling it the same way that Wyatt currently was.  She held her hand close to him, palm upturned, and summoned a handful of flame that danced merrily along her skin and flickered in the wind.  

“Cold?” she asked by way of explanation, not really expecting him to respond given the obviousness of the question.  ”I’m in room 37, third floor.  It’s a good spot.  You can get on th’ roof real easy if ya go out th’ window.”  She shrugged again.  ”Is that close by t’ you?”

Ah, so the girl was a pyro, just as he assumed. Still, to see her mutation in effect was a miraculous thing to behold. “The Brotherhood is lucky to have you,” Wyatt said, thinking of the different mutants residing there. “We happen to be lacking in that department…” The furrow faced man automatically felt the heat, warming up rapidly. He nodded to her, a sign to show his appreciation.

“No where near.” He responded to Blaze’s question. Wyatt grazed past her, continuing to walk in the direction he was originally headed. Interestingly enough his destination, the Brotherhood kitchen, was quite near this mutant’s room. This brought his mind to wonder… Of what background did you have to come from that having a window to escape from was a priority and a perk…? Most likely not a pleasant one. Probably a violent one, as well. 

Without looking back or stopping, Backlash called out to her, his low voice ringing out. “Coming?”

backlash-x:

Blaze cocked her head to the side in slight confusion.  This mutant — Wyatt, or Backlash, or whatever — why was he telling her about getting lost, of all things?  His tone of voice and body language weren’t exactly the most reassuring things at the moment, much too sharp and stiff and rigid, and yet, here he was, beginning small talk.

“I’ll make a point t’ stay away from lakes in th’ dead of night, then,” she said, with the barest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.  ”But yeah, I can’t find m’ room, an’ I agree.  There should be some way t’ figure out how t’ find yer way aroun’ here.  How’s anythin’ s’posed t’ get done if no one can find anythin’?”  She didn’t relax her stance as she spoke, but she didn’t really think he’d attack her anymore; he was probably just cold by nature.  ”Are you not so good with directions, either?”

backlash-x:

Blaze suppressed a shiver at the menacing way with which he advanced upon her; he was easily a foot taller than her, and his expression was the exact opposite of friendly.  Her own expression hardened in response, and instead of shrinking into herself, she stood taller and more defiantly.  ”Ya wanna be called ‘sir,’ look somewhere else, cuz ya won’ be hearin’ me say it,” she bit out, perhaps a bit more snappy than she should have, considering, but Blaze was hardly the poster child for politeness.  

“If you wanna know…’m Shoshana.  But I go by Blaze.”  She wished this conversation had taken place in a more familiar setting; just the fact that she was lost in and of itself already projected a sense of vulnerability onto her, whether she liked it or not, that she just couldn’t afford.  Not now.  Not here.  She stared back up at him, golden eyes locked onto his as if in a challenge, refusing to back down.

A small ‘hmm’ slipped through his nose in reply to her preferred name. Blaze. Blazing. Fire. Pyro. Her mutation must somehow be connection to pyrotechnics… Wyatt’s jaw clenched, his muscles rippling quietly. Blaze was terribly incorrigible, rude, rebellious, impulsive; Magneto would probably be delighted to have her in his ranks as long as she didnt get in his way. 

“Have you been assigned sleeping arrangements? Is that what you’re searching for?” The older man spoke sharply, immobile; his arms hung by his side without swaying, he never once shifted his weight into either of his feet. The occasional blink was the only noticeable movement he made. Uncharacteristically, he continued, perhaps feeling an ounce of empathy for the new mutant’s lack of sense of direction. Or maybe it was his current condition, which was quite tired, that was making his tongue so talkative. “One of the first times I got lost in the dead of night, I ended up in a small lake with a naked woman.” However he doubted that instance would occur again, least of all tonight with this girl. “Maps should be installed.” 

Or maybe he was being so outreaching because she was a brilliant change from the last teenage girl he had met at the Brotherhood…

backlash-x:

Blaze started at the voice that called out to her; she whirled around, body tense and alert in case of an attack.  She had spent the entire day wandering around the compoud, trying to get her bearings.  It was huge, and for some reason she felt a certain sense of urgency in getting accustomed quickly.  To her, the atmosphere was something wholly different from the Academy; it was not a school for children, it was dangerous, or at least had the potential to be a lot more dangerous.  It was like joining a street gang all over again, always something to be on your toes about.

“Yeah, guess so,” she said warily, wiggling her fingers nervously in case he was hostile.  She wondered vaguely why he wasn’t wearing proper clothing outside, but then again, she’d done the same herself more than once.  She wasn’t even wearing shoes at the moment.  ”Jus’ wanted t’ get a look roun’ the place.  ’S too big.  I wanna have it figured out quick.”  She squinted suspiciously at him, making no effort to close the gap between them.  ”Who’re you, anyway?”

The Brotherhood mutant nodded stiffly in accordance to her rather lost and confused state; he’d been there. The man strode slowly to the young woman. With each couple steps, he spoke out to her, identifying himself. “Wyatt.” A few steps. “Backlash.” A number of strides. “Sir.” By the time he was finished, he stood next to her, looming over her small frame, wearing the cold expression that naturally coated his face. In this proximity, he could actually tell how truly young she was: late teens, early adult maybe…

The stoic man continued, his voice low and unattached. “Curious question for a new comer here to ask, dont you think.” His statement wasnt so much of a inquiry as it was an obvious observation. “Shouldnt you be informing me…” Another unquestionable declaration.

backlash-x:

I’m in Azazel’s. He’s very… powerful. *squints his eyes at the young man* Why are you so… excited? *furrows his brow*

I’m in Callan’s. She’s helping me a lot with developing my powers… what are yours? -tilts his head to the  side with a grin- I’m just happy to meet new people… -shrugs- I’m a pretty energetic guy in general, or so people tell me…

Callan. The redheaded Brit. Right… I can store inflicted physical feeling and release it on others at any time I wish. *vague and abrupt* I can also regenerate… *cocks an eyebrow* And yes. I can see that.