[identity profile] x-legion.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] xp_logs
Out camping for the night, three resident pyros get together to experiment with marshmallows. And slightly uncertain control.




There was, Angel realized, a mountain of marshmallows. She stared, completely in awe, at the bags of fluffy sugary goodness. There were even some that had different colors. Rubbing her hands together in glee, she hunkered down, poking through the bags.

Camping called for s'mores. Or at least attempts at s'mores.

"Got 'em," Cyndi announced, triumphantly flopping down by the fire with an bundle of long, thin sticks she'd rummaged up. She was feeling smug. She didn't often get permission to interact, particularly with other kids. It was Damaging To Feelings of Personal Security to know that one of the staff was a nutcase. Still, exceptions could be made. It was unhealthy for David never to express his alters, at least under controlled circumstances. Charles had said so. Well okay. Maybe what Charles had actually said was that it was unhealthy for David never to express the feelings those alters represented, but right now Cyndi didn't care about the distinction. It was an opportunity for fun and powers-use, and that was all she cared about. Anyway, it wasn't like she hadn't been out without other people knowing it was her before. It wasn't hard. All she had to do was think like a dork.

Cyndi lay the sticks down in front of the two other girls and withdrew one sufficiently long and skewer-like. "Okay, grab a stick. It's great if you can just zap it but this is like, the great outdoors. Everybody knows toasted marshmallows don't count unless you make them on the end of some random thing you found in the woods."

Taking a thin stick, Amara looked at the bag of giant colored marshmallows with caution. They didn't smell like food, look like food, feel like food, or taste like food. In fact, she wondered if they had any nutritional value at all beyond the hyperactivity-inducing amounts of sugar. Amara watched how the other girls skewered their marshmallows and did the same. She then placed the marshmallow in the flames and yelped when it caught fire.

"Are they supposed to do that?" She blew on the flamey goo until it was extinguished, leaving behind a forlorn, charred lump. "This looks completely inedible."

Angel giggled. "If you don't want to eat the charred bits--those can be tasty--pick them off," she advised. "Nice and gooey on the inside, I promise...unless, of course, it burned all the way through and then that's just nasty."

She scooted back a bit and looked at her own marshmallow on a stick. "I wonder if I can concentrate and roast it by itself." Crossing her eyes, she started to do just that.

Sensitive as she was, Cyndi felt molecules start to dance, then expand -- slow at first but rapidly increasing. Angel's power wasn't telekinesis, but Cyndi'd had enough experience with the combustion process to know when something felt weird. She'd had just enough time to get out an "Uh--" when the marshmallow exploded.

"Wow," the alter said around the splatter of white goo gracing one side of the counselor's face. "That was kind of awesome."

Amara had barely enough time to look up from her own marshmallow before Angel's decided to attack her. Picking bits of melted goo out of her hair, Amara added, "Awesome, yes, but messy. Do not forget messy." It was an impossible task without a shower, so she resigned herself to having sticky hair. "Maybe we should not use our powers for this."

Instead of looking embarrassed, Angel was giggling hysterically. "I'll have to avoid telling Kyle I got junk in my hair, he'll spend the rest of the night trying to put twigs in it." Her eyes widened suddenly. "Oh. Oh! I set things on fire by microwaves...and that's what happens when you microwave marshmallows. Hey, I'll be able to do Peep wars!"

"Peep wars?" Amara looked puzzled. "What is Peep wars?"

"Peeps are little marshmallow animals that come in freakish colors," Cyndi replied as she wiped some of the gunk off her face. "They're good for throwing because the grimy sugar-crust on them goes like shrapnel. The exploding might be even better, because you can just claim it was a powers-accident when you get yelled at." With a flicker of power Cyndi casually ignited her own marshmallow and drew the stick close to her face to watch the sugar blacken. Blue and orange flames danced. "Power-accidents let you get away with anything. Although if you guys could try not to set me on fire that'd be great, because I do the burning thing. Stick to Mr. Marko or Ms. D'Ancato. I mean," she added, remembering she was supposed to not be acting like a pyromaniac, "in-case-you-ever-god-forbid absolutely positively must do a training exercise that requires you to set a teacher on fire. For example." She blew out her marshmallow.

"Ah. I do not think I ever want to try a Peep then. Marshmallows are bad enough. I draw my line at freakish." Amara watched Mr. Haller in fascination. He was just a little too flame-happy for Amara's comfort, but his ease and control were enviable. "I am feeling like the odd person out. I am the only one who hasn't used his or her power to roast a marshmallow."

Angel blinked as she smooshed another marshmallow down onto the stick. Mr. Haller was acting odd but she just filed it away. There was sugar to be eaten. "I don't think I like the idea of setting other people on fire," she said. "Setting myself on fire, not so bad...though I only assume I'm fire proof from other people's fire. Mr. Haller, how do I go about, you know, testing that? Ohh, Amara, can you try with your powers? That would be cool to see."

She concentrated again, this time setting the stick on fire. She beamed as the marshmallow roasted and then shoved it in her mouth, fire and all.

Cooool, Cyndi thought approvingly as Angel popped the entire flaming mass into her mouth. Stupid David and his non-fireproof skin. She pursed her lips speculatively.

"Well, I'd offer to set you on fire to test it out but the prof kinda frowns on that. 'Safety rules' and stuff. I dunno, is like, the campfire hot when you put your hands up to it? Or if fire's always hot for you, is it hot in a different way than the fire you make? That could be a clue." Ash flaked as Cyndi chewed on the marshmallow. Mm, black on the outside, gooey on the inside. She swallowed and turned to the blonde. "And yeah, go ahead, Amara. It's for training purposes, you know? Also" she gestured to the conspicuous red cylinder at the edge of the circle, "brought insurance." Because Jim is a 60 year old woman, apparently.

Amara had successfully roasted a marshmallow to a tan golden color and was now picking it apart. Maybe there was something to this white sugary concoction after all. "I know I am immune to light and heat. I have been in the middle of a volcano and emerged unscathed." And we will just ignore that I created the volcano in the first place. Finishing off her marshmallow, she moved to a spot a little away from the others. "I do not think I can roast a marshmallow with my powers, but you may be able to roast them on me.

Blocking out the distractions of other campers around her, Amara centered herself and began drawing on the energy she felt in the earth. My own personal sun. Her molten form consumed her and she smiled, holding up a magma-covered hand. "If I had been holding a marshmallow, it would have been reduced to ooze, I think. But I will work just as well as a fire for general roasting purposes."

In her head, Cyndi knew she was a 5'3" sixteen year old girl, and so with the other two girls firmly in the presence of peers. This certainty, however, did not detract from the knowledge that she was also living in the 6'4" frame of a twenty-four year old man, and that there was an inherent problem with David's mouth uttering the words 'You are the most awesome thing I have ever seen' to describe Amara's molten form. Instead she settled on one of Jim's three facial expressions, which she personally dubbed I Am Impressed to the Degree Which is Situationally Appropriate.

"That's pretty nice," Cyndi said, skewering another marshmallow. She nodded at Amara but kept her green eyes focused on the end of her stick as she triggered her own power again. Privately, she was assessing what she could sense from the other girl. "So that's what, like a shell you make? Heat moving over you instead of going all the way through?"

"Whoa, that's cool!" Angel said, staring. She was a tad bit envious because that was just really awesome but Amara's power was different than hers. Spearing another marshmallow, she grinned and held it over Amara, giggling softly. She could feel the warmth radiating off her but it wasn't painful and she scooted her fingers closer. "Wow, hey that tickles..."

"Yes, I make a magma shell. It protects my skin and clothing, so I do not have to go running for a new set of clothes every time I do this. And thank you. This form takes some getting used to, but I like it," she said, grinning. As Angel moved closer, Amara unconsciously reached out, nearly brushing Angel's hand, ready to retreat at a moment's notice if her power began hurting the other girl. "Is this okay?"

Angel thought about it and then moved her hand closer so that she had her palm pressed against Amara's. "I think that's better than okay," she replied, grin threatening to split her face. "I know it's warm but it doesn't hurt and my body is adjusting so I don't feel the heat anymore...hee, that is fantastic!"

"Guess you just don't burn," Cyndi remarked. "Cool, that's useful." Fire flickered in her eyes as she watched Angel's flesh blotted against the lava flowing over Amara's hand, burning in the dark. Jim thought the tableau of the two girls touching hands was strangely poetic. Cyndi thought it was kind of weird. Dude, ET flashbacks. If someone had set ET on fire. God, that movie would have been so much better if the alien had been on fire. Uh-huh. You think everything would be better on fire. Oh shut up Jim, you know it would!

Amara smiled at Angel. "I am glad you do not have to worry when you are around me, that your power keeps you safe. You may never have to be concerned about burning yourself ever again." She removed her hand after a moment, flushed cheeks hidden beneath the magma. "Maybe I should power down now. Being 'lava girl' is still something I'm getting used to." Her molten form disappeared, leaving behind a blushing girl who promptly scrambled for a bag of marshmallows to cover her awkwardness.

Wiggling her fingers in delight, Angel grinned at everyone she could see. "That was amazing. And your skin was all interesting to touch and warm but not warm at the same time. Hey, Mr. Haller...so you can do telepathy and fire? How does that work?"

"Separately," Cyndi replied promptly. "It's some kind of weird omnipsi deal. Telepathy and telekinesis. Mind over matter and mind over, uh . . . mind. Yeah. Usually it comes together, but I have to be in a different, you know, 'state of awareness' to hit different parts of the scale. I can't read minds when I throw stuff or throw stuff when I do this." To illustrate she sent a streak of flame into the air and noticed slightly too late the spot of sky she was focusing her attention on grazed a little too close to a branch. Oh well, didn't catch, doesn't matter.

Mindful of the fact she should probably be setting an example she added airily, "It's why I'm at Xavier's. To learn." Cyndi turned her attention back to the two other girls and wondered, belatedly, Hey, Jim, what's 'Sapphic' mean?

"Oh. Okay." Angel blinked and then handed Mr. Haller another marshmallows. "So, you're special." She grinned at him. "Can we keep blowing stuff up? Uh. I mean...roasting our food to a perfect eating state of...thing?"

"Nice save," Cyndi said, the approval in her voice clear. She grinned and reached down into the bag at her feet, extracting a box with David's long, scarred hand. "Let's move on to advanced. Sooo, who wants to learn to manually toast a graham cracker?"
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