Michael Guerin is a (miserableliar) wrote in pathways_log, @ 2021-10-05 18:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | incryptid: antimony price, roswell nm: michael guerin |
Who: Michael and Annie
What: Annie sets Michael's truck on fire. NBD
When: During The Greet Freeze plot
Where:Streets of Las Vegas
Rating/Warning: Pretty low. Some language. And the death of a truck
Status: Complete
Annie was glad that Michael had come to get her. All the snow had ground public transit to a standstill, and while taking an Uber too and from work was always a possibility, Annie hadn’t exactly budgeted for spending quite so much on getting around.
Sometimes, not having a driver’s license was very, very inconvenient. Then again, unless she had a truck like Michael’s, chances would have been pretty good that her car would have been snowed in too.
The snow was weird, and her mind had immediately jumped to ice sorcerer when it had happened, but she had shaken that idea from her head. She didn’t remember any from that other world that could cover an entire city like this, which probably didn’t mean they didn’t exist. But there was lots going on here that wasn’t explainable by her memories, and she wouldn’t fall into the trap of thinking that she could explain everything with the knowledge that she had from that other life.
“Thanks for coming to get me,” Annie said, rubbing her hands together for warmth. Her fingers were so cold; she probably should have thought to bring gloves with her to work. “If you wanted to stop somewhere for dinner, it’s my treat.”
“No problem,” Michael replied. He didn’t have many friends. Or any really. Annie was probably the closest he had. And Marguerite but he still considered her a sister. The point was, if an almost friend needed him, he’d be there.
“This weather is insane,” he added. He wouldn’t have wanted Annie to walk home in it. Hell, just driving in it was scary enough.
But then his lips twitched at her comment, a smile forming on his face. “About time you paid me back for that hot dog,” he teased.
“It is, isn’t it?” Annie agreed. “Any theories-?” Annie started, though she stumbled over her words at the spark that sprang up from her hands.
Not now, she thought, a little frantically, glad that Michael’s eyes were on the road and likely had missed it. She wasn’t sure what was causing the fire - she had a vague idea that her grandfather had been a sorcerer, but that was all it was, a vague feeling. But she did know that she had to keep it to herself, had to keep it a secret, had to learn how to control it.
She shook her hands, attempted to wipe the flame off of them by rubbing her hands against the denim of her blue jeans, tried to make it disappear, but the more she thought about it, the bigger the flames got, and then suddenly her seat and the dash in front of her had erupted in flames.
“Oh fuck,” she yelped, the heat scalding her, fumbling with her seatbelt, managing to get it unclasped, reaching for the car door and flinging it open, thinking that maybe if she left the truck her flames would come with her and Michael would be okay. She threw herself out of the moving vehicle, rolling when she hit the pavement to avoid any major injury. Her hands were still on fire, but so was, she noticed with horror, the cab of the truck. She should have known better than to think the flames would just disappear once they managed to find something to feed on.
One minute they were driving down the street discussing the insane weather, The next his truck was on fire and Annie was jumping out of it. Hell he was on fire. He quickly pulled the truck over, jumping out his truck, the fire not seeming to burn him. Or if it did he didn’t feel it.
“Annie!” he called out running over to where she had jumped. That was when he noticed her hands were still on fire. Hell so was his jacketed, but again that wasn’t hurting him. He tore if off with his bare hands leaving it in the snow for the fire to die out. “Shit!” he said running over to her, placing his hands on hers to try and get rid of the flames.
“Stop! What are you doing?!” Annie demanded, because the last thing she needed was Michael to burn himself. With his jacket, she had probably already given him burns, but at least his hands would still work. She pulled away from him and plunged her hands in the snow, felt it turn to water around them, and finally felt the flames go out.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “How badly are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” Michael replied. Not sure how he was fine but he was. “Are you okay?” And also what the hell had just happened.
Annie nodded, pulling her hands from the snow. They water dripped from them for only a few moments before the wind turned the water to white frost, the heat leaching from her fingers, which were red and not quite blistered - she wondered if they would blister, later, or if the instant ice treatment would stop that.
“I’m fine,” Annie said, pulling her arms tight against her, attempting to keep her hands from the worst of the cold by tucking them into her armpits. She looked past Michael to his truck, feeling a guilty stab in the pit of her stomach when she saw it was still burning. “I can’t say the same about your truck though.”
Michael would be lying if he said he wouldn’t miss that truck. It was one of the first things he had bought for himself. But it didn’t matter at the moment. He made more than enough money to buy a new one. What was important at the moment was that Annie was okay.
“Yeah well,” Michaell shrugged, lifting his truck up in the air, moving it off the road and into the thick of the snow. Not that that would save it now, but at least it would be out of the way of other cars. The last thing he wanted was to cause an accident. Though moving a flaming truck with his telekinetic powers probably wasn’t the safest idea either.
“Come on,” he said, wrapping an arm around Annie to keep them both warm. He was starting to feel a bit cold now without his jacket. “We need to find a place to get warm.”
Annie stared as the truck lifted itself into the the snow on the side of the road, and then turned to Michael - it was pretty obvious he was the one who was controlling it. She had a sudden flash of Sarah, eyes glowing white, hair floating around her head, and then it was gone. “Holy crap,” she breathed. “That was very Jean Gray of you,” she said, and then paused. “Or Magneto. Can you move everything like that, or just metal objects?”
She started standing as she asked the question, leaning into Michael for warmth, wrapping an arm around his waist. She felt as though she should probably offer him her jacket - it was her fault he didn’t have one, after all - but she suspected that he was the kind of person who’d be more annoyed than grateful by the gesture.
“Anything,” Michael replied. He was pretty sure he could move her too, though he hadn’t tried it on actual people yet, he did have memories of it from another life. “And you can..” his voice trailed off. He knew the fire had come from her, but he also knew it wasn’t intentional. He understood what that was like, he had moved things without meaning to at first too.
She was right that he wouldn’t take her jacket. He’d be fine. “I think there’s a diner not too far.”
“I can set my friend’s trucks on fire and burn my own hands,” Annie said bitterly, glaring down at the red hand that wasn’t around Michael’s waist at the moment. It wasn’t badly burned - it never was - but it would be painful to do much of anything for the next couple of days.
“If we freeze to death, I give your ghost permission to give my ghost shit for the rest of their immortal lives,” she added after a moment. Not that ghosts didn’t ever pass on, but that was beside the point.
It was unfair that Annie received a power that would hurt herself. Not that any of this was actually fair. But still, he didn’t like that.
“Hate to break it to you, but I’m going to give you shit for the rest of our living lives too,” Michael joked as they continued their walk. He hoped they got there soon because he was really starting to feel cold now.
“Yeah, that’s fair,” Annie said, a little relieved that he wasn’t treating her with kid gloves. That, on top of everything else, was liable to have made all this worse.
She could feel Michael shivering, and she frowned, and then held her hands out about a foot apart from one another. She concentrated on the air between them, imagining she could see the air molecules, could picture them rubbing against one another. It was an exercise she seemed to remembered going with her ghostly Aunt Mary.
There was a spark, and then a small flame, and slowly, carefully, she moved her hands apart from one another so that the flame would become bigger - enough to emit at least some heat. If she concentrated hard, she thought that she could control it, and she hoped that if she lost her concentration that it would disappear instead of explode.
“Uhhh,” Michael said when he could tell Annie was trying to produce a flame. And even when she had done it successfully he was still a little skeptical. Even if the heat was very much appreciated. “Are you sure you should be doing that?”
“Well, it’s try to figure out how to make it work when I’m not likely to set anything on fire, or it’s lose control and set my friend’s trucks on fire,” Annie snapped, but it was too late. The flame disappeared from between her hands, and she sighed.
It was hard to see anything in this snow, but she thought she could see a building emerging from the white. She grabbed Michael by the hand, and started pulling him toward the restaurant.
“Maybe we should try when we aren’t in the middle of a snow storm.” In a more controlled area. And when he said we he meant himself too, and his own powers. But before he could clarify the building was in sight and Annie was pulling him towards it. “But for now let’s just get somewhere warm. And a hell of a lot of alcohol.”