Wed Morning- John and Tommy

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John and Tommy have a smoke on the kitchen porch before breakfast. They are surprisingly civil.


It was eight-thirty in the morning. John Allerdyce stood at the kitchen's back porch, smoking his first cigarette of the day. Tendrils of fire snaked its way around him, warming him up from the chilly morning weather. He was careful with the heat and the proximity, of course, having no intention whatsoever of singeing his clothes.

Having promised Yvette to come down for breakfast with her this morning, Tommy too had a morning smoke in mind before meeting the younger girl. He already had one between his lips as he walked out on the porch and paused briefly as he saw he wasn't alone. Rolling his eyes at the flashy display, he wasn't going to let some show-off scare him so he walked out next to the other, cupping his gloved hands against the morning air as he lit his cigarette.

The fire was eliminated as soon as Tommy stepped up next to him. John recognized this one from the blogs. Punk, he thought.

Tommy recognized him also, but it was more from before. Oh great, the mansion's newest resident, or returning resident he should say. The hot shot mutant. The one's whose disregard for human life still made him slightly sick at the thought. Still he nodded. "Morning."

Least the kid had some manners. "Mornin'," he responded. John had heard about Tommy and his past activities with the Friends of Humanity. What happened to him was a clear example of the term, what goes around comes around. God was indeed a comedian. "In your last year here?" Hell, figured they might as well converse.

True, Tommy had had a bit of an change of mindset, but he still would not have found that very funny. "Yes." He said by way of conversation, since they seemed to be heading that direction. "Will graduate this spring. You studying at a school nearby?"

"Yeah," he said, glancing over at him. John was going to complete his bachelor of social sciences program next year. He was, at the moment, working on a lot of research papers. He really needed to excel in his chosen majors; political science and philosophy as he was looking to obtain a scholarship for a postgraduate study in NYU. Hell, a guy could dream.

"Any plans for after you graduate?" John could, of course, strike up a conversation about Tommy's past or tell him what he thought of the Friends of Humanity, but judging from personal experience, having to listen to someone's opinion about matters that you were directly involved in and felt contrite about was just lame and boring. That, and the fact that he had no intention of getting into petty fights with the students at the school, preferring to stand on neutral ground with them whenever possible, were reason enough for the lack of his usually abrasive attitude.

Tommy may have almost been inclined to like John if he'd known about that train of thought. He'd gotten tired of being lectured to in the early days of his stay at the mansion and still didn't appreciate it when someone got the urge to tell him how wrong his views were, even if they had changed slightly since or blasted him when he admitted he still agreed with some of the things the Friends of Humanity fought for. He couldn't help they got some stuff right and it was the same stuff he'd been passionate about in the first place.

"Where, NYU?" He asked as he let out a puff of smoke. "Applied there myself. Been accepted there for Chemistry." And political science but no one really had to know about that. Some people probably wouldn't feel comfortable him getting back into the political arena...and he couldn't take the smug looks on Terry's face.

"I'm at Westchester College," John clarified. "You don't strike me as a science geek."

He held up a gloved hand briefly. "My powers require a good grasp of Chemistry. Figured learning as much as I can about it wouldn't hurt."

John agreed. "So what are your powers?"

"Alchemy basically." He took a draw off his cigarette before Tommy spoke again. "Only managed solids so far."

"You're shittin' me." John turned to face him. "Base metal into gold?"

Shrugging, Tommy bent down and picked up a leaf. Sticking his cigarette in between his lips, he removed one glove and touched the leaf. A few seconds later he handed it to John, made of solid gold. "Took me fucking months to get that one right." He said around his cigarette as he replaced his glove.

John lifted the object up, studying it in the light. "That's...pretty fucking cool, man," he said. "But what's with the gloves -- they gotta stay on all the time?"

Not that Tommy wanted to admit his weakness, but it was a valid question so he answered. "I've been known to transfer things when I'm surprised. They're a safety precaution."

He nodded. "Better safe than sorry." John stubbed his cigarette out. Regret was a bitch.

"Exactly." Didn't Tommy know it.