“No! That’s the exact opposite of what I want.” Bobby called out, blasting the sides of buildings into a slick sheet of glassy ice. “I should be doing something more appropriate for an X-Man, and not doing the job of people who get paid to do this.”
“Don’t tell me you lit this fires – I would hate to have to ice over such a handsome stranger.”
“You don’t get paid to be an X-man?” Ky couldn’t help, but roll his eyes at his own statement. “Such a shame – you should be doing greater things than cleaning up fires.” As for what? He didn’t know, but he figured something more than cleaning after one simple fire.
“You’d really ice me over?” He asked sarcastically. “I thought we were great friends!”
“It’s cool and all, living in New York and getting to pick up the slack of the street-levels…” Bobby sighed, blasting flames dancing from the windows of an apartment building. “…but I’m not a fire-fighter. Where are the fire-fighters?” He sighed, freezing windows over and letting the runoff deal with the other fires.
“Maybe a fire-fighter will come and sweep me off my feet for doing his job.”
“I could always light more fires – maybe you’d become a fire-fighter one day.” Or maybe that wasn’t the top-tier of idea’s he could have brought to the table, but at the same time? No, he didn’t care – not right now anyways.
“Wouldn’t be too hard; fire may not entirely be my element, but it’s easy enough to guide… if given the right incentive.”
Hellfirebound 