Prologue [Bobknap chapter 1. Mags]

[Pyro]

It’s been an odd few days, really, to say the least. Discounting all of the other shit (which he definitely isn’t thinking about right now, because there’s no way Magneto’s left hand man would be doing that with… okay, too much thinking there. No idea where that was going even. Nope. None) even official business has verged on the insane, with the naval battle segueing into minor skirmishes, recruiting missions and, oh yeah, that Halloween affair (which he still doesn’t understand – save that some weird shit went down, and that he’s been left with a penchant for cigarette smoke and overly extended metaphors - and prefers, as most people seem to, to think of as a bad dream because while superpowers can be accepted as ‘real’ magic’s just silly). So finding himself summoned to the see the Boss is probably the most normal part of a more than usually abnormal chapter in the general insanity which passes for his life.

It makes sense, really, because he’s in *the club* now and needs to be filled in the way Mystique always has been (at least, it’s easiest to assume that’s why she spends so much time in Erik’s quarters). Besides, it’s hardly arrogance to note that Magneto seems more pleased than usual with him, so maybe that’s the reasoning behind this? Whatever, it’s not the usual dread which seizes him as he approaches this latest meeting but something more optimistic and almost manic. Things are on the up, make no mistake.

It doesn’t strike Pyro as odd that Elliot should be leaving as he arrives - she’s proved her usefulness, and it makes sense the Boss would want her in on things. Even the way she’s stopped looking right at him as she used to doesn’t strike him as odd, because it makes sense, sort of, after everything she’s seen the last few days (which he knows is getting to her, since she, like most of the newbies, hasn’t yet learned how to stop letting it).

Optimism is a new trick for such a glass-half-empty sort of guy, but hell, it’s addictive and given half a chance, he thinks as he knocks on the door and waits for his cue, he might actually get sort of good at it.

[Magneto]

Magnus sat at his desk, his hands palm down on the top of the cold metal and his gaze fixed there as well. Elliot had not brought the best news but no sense in taking it out on her, after all, she was just doing what she had been recruited to do and maybe a bit better than Magnus could have really hoped for. The desk was barren, save for a chess board which sat on the corner, left in mid-game, although who the boss would be playing such a game with was really open for grabs. Mystique was probably the only one he deemed worthy enough to engage him in such a close and personal manner, although probably not in the only way she did.

The odd white porcelain mask he had worn to that odd and still bewildering party at the Hellfire Club sat on shelf in his private chambers, just off to the side of his office. That night was still fresh on his mind but he pushed it aside, letting more important things take up residence there now and the sound of the knock at his office door brought that reality crashing down around him. Ice blue eyes looked up quickly and judgmentally, letting a moment of silence pass before that slow and stern voice broke through, "Come in," he said, refusing to open the door with his power, for he was afraid that he might actually carry through with the thoughts in his mind right now. Magnus would of course give his young protege a chance to tell everything in his own words, after all, perhaps there was very good and rational explanation of this......or at least there had better be.

[Pyro]

Okay, not especially welcoming, but what did he expect? This is Magneto, after all, and he has an image to keep up… besides, *stern* is probably as natural for him as *cynical* is to Pyro (that is to say, the level of instinctive which for most people includes trivial things like breathing). No point reading too much into that (the mood he was in, reading far too little is the only real course of action), and so it’s with the same sort of hyperactive self-satisfied – hmm, what’s the word? One would term it glee if that didn’t seem so wrong, this being a pyromaniacal teenage terrorist – whatever which has become his signature since the masterpiece which was the naval diversion.

”You wanted to see me?” He’s unsure whether sitting would be too casual, but hey, it seems like the right thing to do, because everything’s gravy now, right? All those misunderstandings have been totally sorted and they’re back the way they were, only better. Or something. He’s not going to over-analyze it beyond noting that it’s good, and dropping into the seat on the other side of the chess board.

[Magneto]

Magneto watched the boy as he entered, his eyes as un-nerving as ever, but hey, that was just Magneto.....basically. The old man was always over analyzing everything and way too serious for his own good, but being forced to suffer through one trauma after another sort of did that to a mutant. His hands remained where they were at and his finger began a slow steady tapping rhythm as he Pyro sat down....if you could really call it that. Judging from the dumb smirk on the boy's face, Magneto assumed that he had no idea of the hell that was about to erupt underneath him.

"I trust we're feeling well today?," he said as he quickly smiled, an indication that something was wrong, but teenagers seemed to lack that sort of instinctive voice which sent of those important red flags. The old man stood, letting his fingers trail across the smooth cold metal of the desk, making a slight 'streaking' sound as they did so. "Elliot seems to be working out quite well," he said calmly as he looked away from Pyro, his face not looking too happy now, "Perhaps better than you could have hoped," he muttered underneath his breath as he stepped around the desk and to the side of where Pyro was sitting.

"You know I put a great deal of trust in you...don't you my boy?," he said as he moved sort of behind Pyro now, resting his hand on the boy's shoulder, "You think its a tad cold in here?," he asked as he put forth a mocking look of curiosity on his face before leaning to the side and looking at Pyro. This would be red flag number two......Patting Pyro on the shoulder, perhaps red flag number three, Magneto stepped way from his protege. "You've been spending a lot of time away from us lately......any reason why?," he asked as his back was turned to Pyro now and his face as serious and hurt as it could be. Betrayal was a cold act and one that Magnus knew all too well, perhaps he had trained his protege far better than he knew.

[Pyro]

”Lot of questions there, boss” (hmm, boss? Maybe this mindlink thing is having some weird side-effects) ”Couple more and we’re in danger of having a real conversation for once”

… okay, now this is odd. Very, very odd. The optimistic voice tries pitifully to suggest that this is perhaps Magneto’s take on being *nice* (which, judging by evidence to date, is about as alien to him as it is to Pyro), and the sane one argues in favour of his having lost his marbles. Neither seems particularly likely, granted, but they’re the only options, right? No way this could be a warning sign of anything, because that’s just stupid. What’s Magneto got to be pissed off with him about (there’s an obvious answer… (two obvious answers, and he’s not sure which one he’s allowing himself to admit to) but it’s a stupid one as well, because there’s no way in hell he could know about any of that)?

The first few questions he feels he can safely ignore, putting them in the category of filler, because the forth one is so obviously the focus of this first *serious* section… and shit, that’s a question (one which makes sense and means nothing, of course. There’s no way he could know. No way.) … still, no reason to panic. He can find a way out of this one. No sweat.

”No real reason” he shrugs (good. Words are a positive sign, and it’s not a bad start… shit, this optimism is hard work, and the voice it provokes annoyingly patronizing. How the hell do people do this all the time and not go mad? At least the pessimistic voice is one you can live with) ”Just need some space away from the asylum occasionally. That’s why you gave me the bike, right?”

Okay, so maybe the last part is a little risky, but it’s a neat move regardless, putting the blame (why blame? No need for blame here when there’s so obviously no real issue) back on Magneto and off him. All in all not too bad, fingers crossed.

[Magneto]

Magneto had hoped Pyro wouldn't be stupid enough to choose this path, but as it appears that was a foolish idea in itself. The boy always put up a tough front, but when in a real confrontation, especially with someone such as Magneto, well, the boy tended to fold like a house of cards. The way he dodged the questions and chose not to answer Magneto, chose not to just admit that horrid little secret and take his punishment like a man should.

"The thing about telepaths my dear boy, is that usually they can't turn off their ability, especially young girls such as Elliot," he said with a sigh and with that serious tone back to his voice, "so....care to try and answer my question again....perhaps with a bit more truth in it this time," he said as he turned around, forcing the metallic chair Pyro sat in to do the same, facing student against the master. Magneto kept his hands at his side, his fists clenched and his teeth gritted, anger the chosen look of the moment. Sure, Magneto had shared a very close friendship with Xavier over the years, but he had never let that friendship come between him and his goals for mutant superiority, he just hoped Pyro was as focused. "Wanda is but a side issue at the moment and one I will deal with later........much later," he said as the chair Pyro sat in began to slid toward him, "I want to know about you and this Bobby Drake," he said as both boy and chair stopped in front of him.

[Pyro]

Oh… fuck.

Of course, it makes sense; he and Elliot have been linked so much lately, and it had seemed like such a brilliant plan. Why hadn’t he predicted that there would be some lasting effects from that, that maybe she’d pick up on some other stuff? Fuck, he’s such an idiot, and so thoroughly screwed… and why the hell did she… Oh shit. This is bad. Really bad…

… okay, maybe not so bad. He can still spin the Wanda situation, right? It’s not like Magneto knows about…

< I want to know about you and this Bobby Drake

Fuck. Famous last words there.

How the hell is he going to get out of this one, aside from (if he survives this) the flaming vengeance he’s going wreak on… Nope. No room to think about that now. The issue remains; what the hell can he say that’ll make this anything like okay?

And it feels like an eternity has passed and he hasn’t said anything, which is about as far from the best course of action as you can get, given the way Magneto’s glaring and the fact that this room is predominantly metallic. It shouldn’t be anywhere near this hard to find something, because there’s got to be some reason Magneto would understand – a Pyro reason, as opposed to all the John ones at the forefront of his mind – otherwise how has he stayed sane (and no, now is not the time to debate whether or not he is, in fact, anything like sane…)?

… oh. Right.

It’s so simple, that’s both the wonder and the terror of it, and part of him hates himself for saying it. But that part’s the same bit which thinks running away with Bobby is a viable option, and therefore is one of the few parts which is definitely beyond any sort of reality. Dreams are nice, and the words he’d want to be able to say belong there, but this is no place for dreaming – you close your eyes to blink, you’re dead.

”Drake? He’s the bastard from Kaytraz.” He’s careful not to add anything to the effect of ‘ex-roomate’, because even that much sentiment is dangerous. It’s a thin tightrope, one it is both easy and tempting to fall off… but unlike the falling he’s let himself get used to – the falling which is the reason they’re got anything to have this ‘conversation’ about – there’s no way you can avoid hitting the ground. ”And yes, I fucked him. I take it that’s what Elliot told you, that I’d fucked an X-Man? So? Only way I’m ever going to destroy him... Act of war, screwing with his head… You have to understand that, right?”

Yes, that’s far too easy, isn’t it? Because even as John you can’t ever tell the difference between endearments and the recipe for napalm, I love you and I want to destroy you, and right now he’s a great many things but he’s definitely not John. No way John could be so steady, so calm, so sure… that brutal, uncompromising edge is pure Pyro, the voice, ironically enough, which Magneto made becoming the best shield against its creator. And he knows what he’s said sounds insane, twistedly sadistically so, but a loyal sort of insane’s better than the alternative.

[Magneto]

Pyro always had a quick and smart mouth on him, too bad his brain wasn't equally as quick or he might have save himself a whole world of hurt. The words he spouted off could have been chosen and phrased a bit better, but then again, Pyro wasn't the one for tact or grace. Perhaps it was the whole authority thing which Magneto radiated, the sort of father figure that Pyro had been trying to resist and not see the old man as or perhaps it was just the rebellious nature of John himself which drove the boy to face off against something he wasn't quite ready for just yet. Either way, Magneto wasn't too lenient with his judgment on the boy, but yet, he was still a bit more forgiving than he normally might have been. Pyro was after all, the little protege and Magneto had invested far too much time and effort into John Allerdyce to sweep him away and start all over with someone new.

With a rather swift sweep of his left hand, the chair Pyro sat in was violently jerked out from underneath him and slammed hard into the left wall. "I did not take in some filthy street vagabond only to have him engage in some disrespectful act in some foolish and misguided attempt to gain some sort of perverted hold on his enemy!," Magneto spoke quickly and with an increasing loudness to his voice. The old man's eyes were cold and piercing, the cold blue of them only adding to the creepiness. Magnus was torn between total discipline and that of mercy, a decision he hardly had to worry about, but one he now found himself faced with regardless.

Then as the chair which was still pinned against the wall fell, so did the apparent anger on Magneto's face. "Your going to tell me everything you know about young mister Drake. About him, his friends, and most importantly.......his family," he said with a calmer more sinister sounding voice, his newly found smile an indication that wicked things were quickly coming this way, "And even though Elliot has voiced her opinion on openly delving through your mind, she will if I make her and I promise you my boy, it will be quite painful," he said with that sickening look of mock pity that he had seemed to master over the years, "So, start from the top and please....no lying."

[Pyro]

Don’t blink…

It may be a good thing that he and Magneto have not been getting on as well lately; it means he knows how this is likely to play out. The trick with the chair comes as no surprise – indeed, he’s almost ready before it comes, and though he lands awkwardly it’s not the usual disaster and he’s far from the quaking boy you (and hell, thinking about it, even he) would expect. Instead he picks himself up fairly coolly, making brief exploration of… yeah, that’s bleeding. Fantastic before facing Magneto again. ”For someone so determined not to be my dad, that’s one hell of an impression”

None of it is wise, or well advised. Neither is it natural, and for a moment or two he’s both kicking himself and wondering where these sudden *balls* have sprung from. The answer’s simple – which of course means that he won’t *get* it for a good while yet, or more accurately that he’s already rejected that explanation because it can’t be right – but at the same time somewhat tangled; it’s just him. The part that wants to protect Bobby thinks this by far the best way, because that attitude is a pretty neat neon sign saying All Pyro (and, by extension and possibly more important Definitely not John), while the part which agrees with Magneto wants to be punished for being so misguided and perverted. None of which is noble or romantic in the slightest, just really fucked up…

… which is only fitting, because there’s no way *normal* or *functional* would have survived the last few days, let alone this.

”From the top?” This is the big test now, the one he can’t afford to fail… It means drawing on old skills, resurrecting the ancient shields, because, he reminds himself, this is in his blood. It’s what he always has done, the act which spawned everything he is now from the ashes of the kid he was, the one that used to be so natural even he couldn’t quite believe it was fake (not up until… oh, fuck. Bobby’s fault again?). Some insane part of him wants it to fail regardless, because bolstered on by the sheer manic rage (part of which, of course, is the love passion whatever, because what’s that but another localized insanity?) he thinks he could handle Elliot, and even if he couldn’t there would be some bleak satisfaction in watching Magneto force her… No. Protecting Bob, remember?

(It’s weird that he should note this now, but he can’t help himself; whoever suggested that the one time he thought about someone other than John Allerdyce wouldn’t kill him was talking shit)

”B- Drake and I used to be room mates at the Institute. His handle’s Iceman, for obvious reasons” Bare bones is the way to go – Magneto will press where he wants this to go, and John can use the extra moments to consolidate both the lie and the careful detachment – nothing which can be used against either of them. His tone is neutral, his delivery unnaturally calm (which would shock him if he could spare the attention to note it) – all the more unnatural since he’s stood (not cowered, mark, but stood), unflinching. It’s odd how that seems to work; the little things send him to pieces, the big ones stick him back together.

Does Magneto know about Boston, or was that lost post-Alkali? Again, no need to go into detail there. ” X-brat through and through… real All-American hero type. Home town is Boston – parents, one bastard of a younger brother, all flatliners – but he’s not welcome there any more.”

[Magneto]

Magnus directs his gaze away from Pyro as the boy spins his way out of trouble, or at least attempts to do so. The idea of Pyro betraying him is long gone and whatever he had chosen to do with this upstart...Bobby Drake is his own business and will remain so just as long as it does not threaten Magneto or his plans. Charles was a great mentor and teacher so some of his students had to turn out productive, even if they clung to those foolish ideas which Xavier so adamantly churned out.

The old man let a sly smile tug at the corner of his mouth and looked back to Pyro, determined to follow this road until the end. Pyro seemed to hold a great deal of sway and physical tie to this other boy, something which Magnus might be able to use to his advantage. "Let me guess. Mommy and daddy don't like the idea of having a mutant for a son?," he asked, more or less just to hear the sound of his own voice and to possible arouse some sort of malice within Pyro toward those thoughts. "Of course, I doubt this All-American-Hero holds any hate toward his parents or brother though, if he's as good as you make him out to be anyway," Magneto said as he held his ground in front of Pyro.

Ideas already formed in Magneto's complicated and twisted mind, ideas which involved pain of varying degrees and a great sacrifice and show of loyalty on Pyro's part. "This boy.....mister Drake....just how much sway do you hold over him my boy?," Magneto asked, assuming Pyro held the cards in this twisted and odd relationship, or at least hoping he did. Magneto had groomed Pyro to be a leader, and if he found out that his protege was playing second fiddle to someone besides himself or Mystique, well then....things would not be well for the fire starter.

[Pyro]

< Mommy and daddy don’t like the idea of having a mutant for a son?[/color]
”Hardly ecstatic” he replies, tone still carefully maintained, unleashing a smaller, darker mirror of Magneto’s own sly smile... this act is still worryingly easy to slip back into, though that should come as no surprise, it’s just a variation on his favorite theme... and thinking of it like that makes it even easier. ”Though it’s more to do with how this son’s friend had a cop-roast on the front lawn...”

So far so good. The play seems to be working – Magneto has relaxed (as much as he ever does, that is) and provided Pyro doesn’t allow any un-Brotherly emotions to slip through the carefully constructed front everything should be okay from here on in. Not that he can afford to relax, of course...

< Just how much sway do you hold over him, my boy?[/color]
... because something like that inevitably comes along and ups the stakes. Magneto’s got that look, the one that says he’s planning something...

... what could he be planning? And more importantly, is there anything he can do to out-maneuver that plan? Again there’s something of a dark and twisted pleasure in using the tools Magneto has given him against him, and something about this leadership gig has done wonders for his already none-too-shoddy strategic plotting abilities (like a giant game of chess, he grins inwardly…) because… hang on, that’s a plan.

And it really, really is. Pyro’s careful not to let anything in his tone or demeanor betray exactly how pleased with himself he now is, but inside’s a bloody firework display. Because this is true genius, the pieces coming together so very neatly and so much better than he could ever have thought.

”Enough”

He’s unsure how much Elliot has passed on, and even without suspecting that Magneto knows the *ahem* intimate details he can’t go so far as to suggest he’s totally in charge of whatever he and Bobby have going on and keep up this straight (because everything thus far has had at least a degree of truth)… but there’s a neat excuse for that as well.

”He thinks he’s in charge, of course. Can’t see such a perfect X-Brat admitting to being controlled by his mortal enemy. By far the best way, letting him think he’s got all the power while really…” It doesn’t need to be said out loud. Magneto should recognize the text from one of his early *grooming* sessions once it became clear he had something of a plan for his new Firestarter (and again the irony is delicious, because isn’t he using the exact same tactic now, letting Magneto think he’s the one with the handle on this situation while secretly Pyro’s the one spinning it… okay, maybe that’s a little far, to suggest anyone other that Magneto is in charge here, but whatever). ”But in response to your question… I ask him to jump, he’ll try and vault a skyscraper.”

And now for the coup de grace, provided he can pull it off… no reason why he shouldn’t, because even within his head the logic is totally undeniable, and (he thinks) in line with whatever machination Magneto was starting to form in his own mind. Casually tagged on the end, these few next words have to be the most important of the whole conversation, and so it takes consummate acting skill to toss them in as a throwaway line. ”We keep this up, with him thinking it’s a genuine secret affair which the world knows fuck all about, it’s a pretty neat handle on the Institute.”

He’s careful not to actually say straight out what he’s suggesting – letting Magneto put the pieces together so it’s technically his idea is always far better that a straight out proposal – but it should be obvious; back off, and let me keep seeing him. Brilliant.

[Magneto]

Pyro was indeed learning from Magneto and by the way he so calmly assumed a somewhat control of the situation, it appeared he was learning very quickly. Magneto smirked ever so slightly, the master seeing his pupil doing his best to put his new skills to use. Pyro evidently thought Magneto to be some rube, but since Alcatraz, the old man had learned not to underestimate anyone, no matter how weak they pretended or appeared.

It was interesting in how Pyro thought his little suggestions would sway Magneto, too bad the old man would have to show him other wise. Arching an eyebrow, Magneto laughed, mockingly, "A handle on the Institute? My dear boy, I helped build that Institute, do you think I wouldn't have some access to it even in my absence?" The old man had added many things in Charles' blueprints for the Institute, but had also failed to mention any of them to Charles.....how underhanded of him.

Magneto gave a slight sigh and moved around Pyro, reaching out to pat the boy on the shoulder, "Deliver mister Drake to me my boy, completely unaware and ever the so trusting," he said nonchalantly, almost as if he were talking about sending Pyro to the supermarket to buy some groceries, "There are a few things I'll be needing from him....or rather, from what having him will bring me," he added with another slight bit of laughter as he slid his hand from Pyro and moved closer to his desk, stopping to move a knight across the chess board and in position to take the bishop.

[Pyro]

”It’s not going to be easy” Pyro’s *in the zone*, as it were, which is why the reply comes so quickly, because he’s not really thinking in case thought shatters this careful construct... which means he sort of misses what Magneto’s suggesting in his eagerness to try and keep both spouting ideas and covering up what this really means. His strategic brain is in gear, which can sometimes be a very good thing seeing how he sparks off ideas... and sometimes a very bad one, because when that starts happening he gets sort of manic and the rest of the world recedes (it’s this mania, for example, which helps make torching things an obvious solution, hang the consequences)... hell, it even seems to extend to chess, which Magneto has finally got around to teaching him, as he moves a moment after Magneto and shifts the Bishop out of danger without looking at the rest of the board. ”No way he’s just going to jump ship if I flash the puppy-dog eyes and you tell him a pretty story about mutant supremacy”

It’s not such a stretch of the imagination to think Magneto means convincing Bobby to join; it’s the trick he worked with him, after all, and there have been plenty of defectors lately (and somewhat ironically, Alcatraz proving the best PR the Brotherhood have ever had as far as other mutants go). In fact that’s the only logical conclusion, right?

[Magneto]

Magneto was a bit surprised at how quickly Pyro answered and also a bit taken back by how the boy so casually intervened in the chess game set up on the corner of the desk, he even moved the bishop correctly, safely retreating from its eminent removal from the game. With a smile, he looks the board over, carefully plotting his next move while shaking his head at Pyro's comment. Sure, Bobby would make a fine addition to the Brotherhood, but the boy was also a traitor to his own kind, no better than the homo sapiens who sought to 'cure' them all. Of course Magneto also knew Bobby Drake's kind, the sort who bought into all that crap that Charles Xavier spouted off and as Charles himself had proved time and time again, Bobby would resist any sort of ideas which Magneto had for mutants.

"Recruiting is not my intention boy, insurance is," he said as he held his head back a bit with a serious face, reaching out to move his rook to take the bishop which Pyro had just moved, "Besides, young mister Drake is a traitor to us all and as all traitors go, he will receive what is coming to him," he added, letting his cold blue eyes drift over to Pyro, his voice collected and somber yet again, "He sided with those who want to destroy our kind instead of standing with us like true brothers should." Magneto had tolerated the X-Men before, but now, he was through with them, they had betrayed their own kind for the last time. Mutants had sided with those who made the 'cure' that would imprison them and now, with the knowledge he had obtained from the naval base, stood by while countless numbers of mutants were being tortured and experimented on day in and day out.

[Pyro]

Pyro’s half-watching the game, so it still takes a second or two for what Magneto’s saying to sink in at even the surface level everything else thus far has gone to… Shit… erm, can the prancing-horse-thingy do the l-shaped-thing and take that…?

… but that level’s more than deep enough, because there’s no way he can miss the meaning there.

Oh hell.

This is… not good.

He almost laughs inwardly at how much of an understatement not good is, but other emotions he can’t afford to make visible steal that inner space. Guilt, for one, because he’s played his part in this, no doubt… yes, no escaping that, given how he was trying to lead Magneto to thinking about how he could use Bobby (guilt, too, that he can’t help but agree, regardless of how love should be blinding him – except it’s not love, is it? – with the label of *traitor*)… Beat yourself up later, Allerdyce. No time for that now.

Okay, he needs time to think….

… not too much of a problem, fingers crossed, provided this next move doesn’t back fire. Besides, there’s always the slim chance he’s missed something, and even if he hasn’t it can’t hurt to get more information. ”What, exactly, are you suggesting? Because I’m kinda lost with all this ‘insurance’ and ‘things needed’…”