Pyro Quotes

you're a diabolical little pyro, aren't you? He blushed modestly.

In my biology class, we'd talked about the definition of life: to be classified as a living creature, a thing needs to eat, breathe, reproduce, and grow. Dogs do, rocks don't, trees do, plastic doesn't. Fire, by that definition, is vibrantly alive. It eats everything from wood to flesh, excreting the waste as ash, and it breathes air just like a human, taking in oxygen and emitting carbon. Fire grows, and as it spreads, it creates new fires that spread out and make new fires of their own. Fire drinks gasoline and excretes cinders, it fights for territory, it loves and hates. Sometimes when I watch people trudging through their daily routines, I think that fire is more alive than we are–brighter, hotter, more sure of itself and where it wants to go. Fire doesn't settle; fire doesn't tolerate; fire doesn't 'get by.' Fire does. Fire is.

You know, Roland and I were just talking about how we don't have any pyromaniac friends. And everyone knows you need a good pyro to pull off any reform school prank worth the effort.

Trust me on this. Whatever Prez wants, he'll get. You take one look at him and you're gonna be a goner just like the rest of them. But for now, my brother just wants a dance"- Pyro

You’re suggesting we burn down Blackthorn Manor?” said Ty, his eyebrows up around his hairline. “Oddly,” Magnus muttered, “you wouldn’t be the first people ever to have that idea.” “Ty, don’t sound so excited,” Livvy said. “Pyromania interests me,” said Ty. “I think you have to burn down several buildings before you can consider yourself to be an actual maniac for pyro,” Emma said. “I think before that you’re just an enthusiast.

from Out of the Darkness (book 2): Zoe met Eric's eyes. Even in her platforms she was still a few inches shorter than he was. "And what do you do?" His mouth quirked. "I set people on fire.

Hey, is this what they call the gay agenda?" Spirit Wire called. "Gay boys indoctrinating two innocent, uber straight girls with dirty same-sex kissing?" "What, are you feeling a little gay yet? No? Okay, let me kiss him some more and see what happens," Calais yelled back. I thought I heard Miss Pyro snort and giggle.

pyro-heads,

Even though he could have anyone in the city, man or woman, he has chosen you. You must be something extraordinary for him to have fallen the way he has. And now I know how to strike at him. How to get him to his knees.

It's funny how a flame can only burn your hand if you move too slow," Hayden says. "You can tease it all you want and it never gets you, if you're quick enough." "Are you a pyro?" Connor asks. "You're confusing boredom with obsession.

What is this?” Nick whispered, a tear trickling down his cheek. “The future,” Seth said. “For you. For me. For all of us. You’re a hero, Nicky. An Extraordinary. It’s about time you had a costume to show that.” “Oh my god,” Nick breathed. “Do you realize what this means?” “What?” Gibby asked, her voice crystal clear. “We have a ship name!” Nick cried. “Holy shit, we’re PyroGuard! Wait, no. That sounds like medicine for a foot rash. GuardStorm! StormGuard? GuardPyro!” “Nicky, no,” they all groaned. “Nicky, yes!” “Nicky, yes,” another voice said, and Nick startled. He removed the helmet and smiled at Dad, who was standing in the entryway to the kitchen. His eyes were wet, but he was smiling. Nick set the helmet on the table before flinging himself at his father. Dad caught him. He always did. “Guardian,” Dad whispered into his hair. “My guardian.

Trough Pass - 5 Primogems - Knock a Pyro Slime out of the hands of a Hilichurl Grenadier.

Hayden passes his hand back and forth over the flame. He doesn't move slowly enough to burn himself, but he does move slowly enough to feel the heat. Hayden notices Connor watching him. “It's funny how a flame can only burn your hand if you move too slow,” Hayden says. “You can tease it all you want and it never gets you, if you're quick enough.” “Are you a pyro?” Connor asks. “You're confusing boredom with obsession.

It’ll be worse than having civilians on the battlefield.” “Marginally. She’s had some military training, right?” It was Reza’s turn to frown. He hadn’t the slightest clue what military training she had, if any. Maybe she’d just been handed her uniforms and told to report to Fort Hood. Stranger things had happened. “I have no idea,” he admitted. “Well, find out. And make sure she doesn’t accidently set off any pyro.” Reza winced at the jab and flipped Evan off. “Very funny.

I don’t know what to say.” My voice was raspy. “You don’t have to say anything. The medics already cleaned and took care of these.” “No,” I said, still holding on to his hand. “I don’t know how to thank you for saving my life. Again.” “Stop thanking me,” he ground out. “I have to,” I said, looking straight into his eyes. “If you hadn’t been there…” My sentence trailed away. We both knew what would’ve happened. “But I was,” he said softly. “About that…” I began, wetting my lips. “Why were you there?” “I needed to talk to you about something.” “What?” He withdrew his hand, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans and pulling out a folded piece of paper. “About this.” It was a plain white piece of paper, the kind that anyone would use in a printer. I unfolded it, noticing there was some kind of writing on the inside. When I got to the last fold, I glanced up at Holt who was wearing a very grim expression. Clearly, whatever this was wasn’t good. I pulled it open and stared down, my brain not really comprehending what it saw. I had to read the line over three times before I really got what it was saying. My stomach clenched. My hands trembled slightly. You should have let her die. “Where did you get this?” I finally asked. “It was on my truck when I left work earlier tonight.” The paper fluttered to the floor slowly, joining the towel by my feet. “So you got this before the fire tonight?” “Yes. It’s the reason I came looking for you.” “You didn’t say that.” “I figured you were dealing with enough at the moment.” “Did you tell the police?” He shook his head slowly. “But why?” “I wanted to talk to you first. See if you knew what it meant.” “It means someone wants me dead!” I shouted. My voice seemed to echo through the hallway. “You’re not going to die,” he growled. “I shouldn’t have come here,” I said, looking frantically around. “I need to go.” I spun around to rush into the living room, but the towel was tangled around my feet and I tripped, falling toward the floor. Holt caught me around the waist, pulling me back so I was up against the solid wall of his body. The heat of him was delicious and it radiated around my fear-chilled body. “You’re not going anywhere,” he rumbled in my ear. I struggled against him, but it was stupid. He outweighed me by a hundred pounds, easily, and was likely a foot taller than me. If he didn’t want to let me go, then I was pretty much stuck in his embrace. I slumped against him. “I’m putting you in danger by being here.” “You’re in more danger when I’m not around.” I couldn’t stop my snort. “There goes that ego of yours again.” His chuckle vibrated my ear. Chill bumps raced over my scalp. “All I’m saying is that clearly this guy is a pyro. My job is fire. You’re better off here than alone.” “But what about you?” “You let me worry about me.” I tried to wiggle out of his embrace so I could look at him. He only loosened his hold enough to allow me to spin in his arms. I had to tip my head back so I could stare up at him. “Do you have a death wish?” “I’m not going to die. Especially since life just got a hell of a lot more interesting.” His fingers flexed against my hip.

And The Human Said "No Being That Can Express Himself Like That Can Consider Itself A Monster

And The Monster Said "Yes But No Being That Can Cause Such Destruction Without Remorse Can Consider Itself A Person

And The Ucontrolled One Said "If I Am Weird Then You Are Not Normal

Before he could push me any further, I pressed him back. “I have to get to class,” I protested. “I can’t afford to miss lessons before my Elemental Trials.” “No, we wouldn’t want you to fail The Reckoning, would we?” Caleb teased, moving his mouth across my jaw and working really damn hard to keep me here. “I mean it,” I said on a laugh, pushing him back more firmly. Caleb pouted at me, refusing to step back while he kept me caged in with his body. “Come to Terra House tonight then,” he asked, his navy eyes sparkling with promises. “I won’t be going anywhere tonight, there’s a curfew, remember?” “Those rules don’t apply to me. Besides, I’ll keep you safe if you’re with me. You’ll just have to stay the whole night.” I rolled my eyes at him. “I can keep myself safe, thanks. But now I’m going to be late-” “If I run you to class will you come tonight?” he asked, his mouth slipping to my neck and sending shivers right through my spine. “If you get me there on time, I’ll consider it,” I replied. Caleb glanced at his watch then cursed, sweeping me into his arms before speeding back out of the tiny room. I managed not to shriek like a nine year old on a roller coaster, but I did cling onto his blazer like my life depended on it as the world shot past us in a blur so intense I couldn’t concentrate on a single thing. Caleb skidded to a halt right outside the Fire Arena locker rooms and placed me back on my feet before leaning close to speak in my ear. “One minute to spare. I’ll expect you tonight, sweetheart.” He pressed his mouth to mine and my heart leapt a little at the fact that he’d done so in plain sight. I had no intention of being marked as his in front of the whole school and I pulled back quickly, looking around to make sure no one had seen us. Luckily, we were already so close to being late that everyone else had already headed inside so I was spared the drama. “Don’t go getting ahead of yourself,” I warned as I headed into the girls’ locker room. “I only said I’d consider it.” The door swung closed between us and I bit down on a smile as I headed in to get changed. I almost considered refusing to wear the flame resistant outfit required for the class, but I decided that today wasn’t the day for me to have that argument with Professor Pyro. I’d just have to accept the fact that I wouldn’t have the same level of control over my fire magic as I would without it. But I’d keep practicing without the outfit until I was confident enough to prove her wrong. In the meantime I had to get through this class and hope she would just be pleased that I’d finally managed to get in a training session with Darius. The thought of the Dragon Shifter set me on edge. But I’d known I’d have to face him some time. Hopefully there would be enough going on in class to ensure that that time wouldn’t have to be now. (tory)

Darius grunted irritably. “You let me in last time,” he reminded me in a low voice. “Why did you trust me then and not now?” I cleared my throat uncomfortably. “I didn’t trust you then either. I just had to push past my natural inclination to protect myself from sociopaths. You’ll have to give me a moment before I can easily do so again.” I bit my lip as his grip on my hands tightened and he tugged me closer again, our chests almost brushing as I looked up at him. “Stop power fucking her and start working on what Pyro wants,” Caleb called and I flinched, yanking my magic back again as I looked around at him and Darcy. “Are you afraid I’m going to steal her attention from you, Cal?” Darius asked Caleb with the hint of a smile playing around his lips. “Not likely,” Caleb replied dismissively but his eyes narrowed. “I’m still here,” I reminded them irritably. “And neither of you are interesting enough to keep my attention for long so there’s no point in you getting your panties in a twist over it. Maybe we should just get on with this class?” Darius smirked at Caleb tauntingly and I rolled my eyes at him. “Well I’m happy enough to practice without help if you wanna leave me to it?” Darcy suggested, not-so-subtly trying to tug her hand out of Caleb’s grip. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I promise to be gentle with you,” he said, ignoring her attempts to break free. My sister obviously had reservations about this activity and I couldn’t really blame her. She shot me a look which basically said she’d rather be pretty much anywhere else than holding Caleb’s hand and I glanced at Darius before raising an eyebrow at her as if to say ‘who’s got it worse?’. Darcy snorted a laugh and the two Heirs looked between us like they were trying to figure out what we’d just communicated to each other. “Come on, Roxy, let’s see what you’ve got,” Darius said, releasing one of my hands so that I could cast with it. He didn’t need any further encouragement and stepped forward to grip my waist like he had before. This time I didn’t press my body to his though and instead focused on harnessing my magic in the way I wanted. My frustration meant I threw more power at the task than I’d intended and I yanked on Darius’s magic too. A full sized motorbike materialised in the flames before me and with a surge of triumph, I sent it tearing across the arena. Pyro stopped what she was doing and actually applauded me and I grinned to myself as more than a few of my classmates joined in. I started making the bike weave between the students as it did a circuit of the arena and Darius leaned close to my ear as he maintained his grip on me. “Congratulations, Roxy. Looks like we’ve got a date Wednesday night then.” I ignored the flutter in my chest as he called it a date because it absolutely didn’t take place. “Maybe I’ve already got plans Wednesday,” I said. “Yeah, you do. With me.” He released his grip on my waist and my control over the magic faltered as the bike burst apart into a thousand flaming tendrils which burnt out quickly without anything to maintain them. (tory)

Sloane Sullivan, thirty years old. Pyro mage. Top ten percent of his training class. Anger issues, loyal, broken family, only child. Master of wards. Fischer Bahri, thirty years old. Cognitive mage. Interrogator, ability to not only read emotions but also push them, alter memories, hypnotize. Valedictorian of his training class. Loving family, one sister and two nieces. Cameron Jacobs, thirty-one years old. Storm mage. Protector, fierce fighter, relentless. Can manipulate weather within a seventy-five mile radius with the ability to create more localized storms. Generates lightning from hands. Severe childhood trauma. Fear of loss. Kaito Mori, twenty-nine years old. Shifter mage. Black panther: Bagheera. Heightened sense of smell, vision, and hearing. Oldest of five children. Struggled with depression in the past.

This story created a sensation when it was first told. It appeared in the papers and many big Physicists and Natural Philosophers were, at least so they thought, able to explain the phenomenon. I shall narrate the event and also tell the reader what explanation was given, and let him draw his own conclusions. This was what happened. A friend of mine, a clerk in the same office as myself, was an amateur photographer; let us call him Jones. Jones had a half plate Sanderson camera with a Ross lens and a Thornton Picard behind lens shutter, with pneumatic release. The plate in question was a Wrattens ordinary, developed with Ilford Pyro Soda developer prepared at home. All these particulars I give for the benefit of the more technical reader. Mr. Smith, another clerk in our office, invited Mr. Jones to take a likeness of his wife and sister-in-law. This sister-in-law was the wife of Mr. Smith's elder brother, who was also a Government servant, then on leave. The idea of the photograph was of the sister-in-law. Jones was a keen photographer himself. He had photographed every body in the office including the peons and sweepers, and had even supplied every sitter of his with copies of his handiwork. So he most willingly consented, and anxiously waited for the Sunday on which the photograph was to be taken. Early on Sunday morning, Jones went to the Smiths'. The arrangement of light in the verandah was such that a photograph could only be taken after midday; and so he stayed there to breakfast. At about one in the afternoon all arrangements were complete and the two ladies, Mrs. Smiths, were made to sit in two cane chairs and after long and careful focussing, and moving the camera about for an hour, Jones was satisfied at last and an exposure was made. Mr. Jones was sure that the plate was all right; and so, a second plate was not exposed although in the usual course of things this should have been done. He wrapped up his things and went home promising to develop the plate the same night and bring a copy of the photograph the next day to the office. The next day, which was a Monday, Jones came to the office very early, and I was the first person to meet him. "Well, Mr. Photographer," I asked "what success?" "I got the picture all right," said Jones, unwrapping an unmounted picture and handing it over to me "most funny, don't you think so?" "No, I don't ... I think it is all right, at any rate I did not expect anything better from you ...", I said. "No," said Jones "the funny thing is that only two ladies sat ..." "Quite right," I said "the third stood in the middle." "There was no third lady at all there ...", said Jones. "Then you imagined she was there, and there we find her ..." "I tell you, there were only two ladies there when I exposed" insisted Jones. He was looking awfully worried. "Do you want me to believe that there were only two persons when the plate was exposed and three when it was developed?" I asked. "That is exactly what has happened," said Jones. "Then it must be the most wonderful developer you used, or was it that this was the second exposure given to the same plate?" "The developer is the one which I have been using for the last three years, and the plate, the one I charged on Saturday night out of a new box that I had purchased only on Saturday afternoon." A number of other clerks had come up in the meantime, and were taking great interest in the picture and in Jones' statement. It is only right that a description of the picture be given here for the benefit of the reader. I wish I could reproduce the original picture too, but that for certain reasons is impossible. When the plate was actually exposed there were only two ladies, both of whom were sitting in cane chairs. When the plate was developed it was found that there was in the picture a figure, that of a lady, standing in the middle. She wore a broad-edged dhoti (the reader should not forget that all the characters are Indians), only the upper half of her

And The Monster Said "Define Morality" Later To Explain That It Depends On The Person If They Are A Person.....

And The Mosnter Said "Beware The Fallen Fenix Or Die Running

And The Monster Said "Pity The Broken Child As In You Pity The Insane

And The Librarian Said "Earth Is Just A Fat Kid Being Kept Alive By Machines That Feed Him More Until It Explodes, I Recommend Temporary Starvation

She loved him. He loved her. They both got married, not to each other. :) Down on one knee WILL U MARRY ME? I don't love you and i don't think i ever will held out my ring, will u marry me? I've read my vows to someone else took an oath to keep her safe Wake up next to me for the rest of my mornings when i'm thru with dreams of her and me will u hold my hand? when my flesh is ill n keep me warm against the harsh winter breeze she once held my heart n i don't recall taking it back will u marry me? i'm truly sorry, i am bt all i can offer is a heartless, lifeless version of me will u spend the remainder of our lives together, have children, build a house shut'em people's mouth make them believe, they can all be Juliets n Romeos but there'll not certainly be a love like ours. So will you marry me???

Aron Micko H. Boquiren (Aron Micko H.B ) is a novelist, artist, and computer programmer. His books contain broad fiction including his creations of Arcodicus Cryptograph, Quatic Traditional Language, and Wildirian and Chatteruse Language in the book I series of Endless Extremity. He is also the creator of the fictional Characters Pyro Jack, Commander Queen Natur, and Light Champ in Endless Extremity (3 Spells) which are part of the book I to Book II. He took a BS Information Technology course and an Associate Degree in Software Development. He was born in the Philippines and his books are At the Back, Endless Extremity (The Origin), Endless Extremity (The Legacy), Read me or leave me (Screenplay), etc. His genre is fantasy fiction. At an early age, he became obsessed with drawings and he created about a hundred more original characters which he later includes in his books and comics.

Clover rimase seduto a fissare il loro porto felice, il luogo che considerava casa, distrutto dalle fiamme. Clover non trovò la forza di odiarlo, dato che non gli era rimasto più niente. Potevano solo fare affidamento l’uno sull’altro. Continuò a gattonare con cautela, come se Pyro fosse un procione rabbioso. Per un attimo, desiderò chiedergli di che cosa avesse bisogno o confortarlo, promettendogli che avrebbero ritrovato Boar, ma Pyro era ubriaco e completamente andato. Così si limitò ad abbracciarlo, pronto a essere respinto. Non accadde, e osò appoggiare una guancia sulla spalla del compagno. Non avrebbe mai immaginato di vedere Pyro in lacrime, tantomeno sostenerlo in quel modo, ma eccoli lì. Dopo tutti gli orrori a cui era sopravvissuto, doveva essere forte e sopportare almeno in parte il fardello che pesava sulle spalle di Tank. Sebbene gli sembrasse incredibile, abbracciò Pyro e lasciò che si sfogasse, mentre il mondo attorno a loro bruciava

Dato che era incapace di comunicare i suoi bisogni e i suoi sentimenti, soffrì in silenzio per ore, nella speranza che forse qualcuno, un giorno, capisse che cosa fare con lui. Nonostante la tensione sessuale ogni volta che erano vicini, Drake non si era mai dimostrato molto amichevole, ma Clover era riuscito a ferire Boar, farsi nemico Pyro e a rifiutare Tank, tutto in una volta. Si era cacciato lui in quel casino Non importava che ci fosse di mezzo il suo culo perché, un giorno, nemmeno tanto lontano, quegli uomini avrebbero deciso che non ne valesse più la pena. Ne era certo Chi voleva prendere in giro? Era un albino e un twink di prim’ordine, ma il suo aspetto non sarebbe stato una novità per sempre. Anche se era solamente quello che interessava ai mercenari, nessuno voleva occuparsi di un intralcio ogni giorno. Era un peccato che sentisse già la mancanza delle braccia muscolose di Tank, della sicurezza che non conosceva limiti, di ciò che gli offriva. Quando era con Tank, lui sapeva quale fosse il suo ruolo nel mondo. Gli dava la stabilità che nessun ragazzo gli aveva mai regalato. Tuttavia, Tank non era il suo ragazzo. Era impossibile tornare a come stavano prima le cose, dopo il suo comportamento, quindi era bloccato in quel letto, a mezzanotte passata, tormentato dal senso di colpa per il modo in cui aveva trattato Boar, arrabbiato per l’odio con cui Pyro lo aveva scopato, e imbarazzato per aver mentito a Tank, che era sempre stato dalla sua parte, mentre la parola “puttana” continuava a riecheggiare nella sua testa, anche se non aveva mai venduto il suo corpo per denaro, nemmeno nei momenti più difficili Era uno spreco di spazio. Non c’era da meravigliarsi che Jerry avesse voluto sbarazzarsi di lui. Un ragazzino piagnucoloso. Non abbastanza bravo come ladro. Adatto soltanto per scopare. Se Tank e gli altri non fossero stati così carini con lui, non sarebbe stata così dura accettare la loro rabbia e il loro rifiuto. Trattenne un altro singhiozzo, ma il bisogno di conforto divenne un vuoto al centro del suo petto, così si spostò sul materasso fino a nascondere il viso tra le scapole di Tank. La pelle era sudata per il caldo, ma profumata, e così accogliente che desiderò morire soffocato in quel modo.

«Non osare morire, cazzo.» Boar lo baciò di nuovo, ma Drake cominciava a essere impaziente. «Non importa che cosa deciderai, noi dobbiamo andare. Non avrò Clover sulla coscienza.» Pyro lo aiutò a sedersi sul posto del guidatore e chiuse lo sportello. «Fai attenzione!» Annuì e mise in moto. Voleva esserci per Clover, ma sapeva che avrebbe rallentato gli altri. L’unica cosa che poteva fare era costringere Pyro ad andare.

«Non lo dirai a Pyro, giusto?» osservò ogni mossa del mercenario. Boar si immobilizzò, la mano sul manico dello sportello. «Ti perderei se lo facessi, non è vero?» chiese, provando una fitta al cuore per aver ricattato una persona dolce come Boar. Tuttavia, era l’unico modo per portare a termine l’incarico. Drake aveva ragione. Era più semplice chiedere scusa dopo che non il permesso prima «Dobbiamo farlo sul serio, piccolo. Tutto il resto può aspettare. Il tempo scorre e un’opportunità simile potrebbe non ripresentarsi. Non ti mentirò… ho paura. La tua presenza aiuterà, ma Drake ha bisogno di farlo. Ha sofferto tanto. Nessuno di noi può comprendere quello che ha passato, e io sono passato da una casa a un’altra vivendo in situazioni che dire di merda è poco. L’inferno di Drake deve finire.» Boar prese un respiro profondo, contemplando il loro bagagliaio. Aprì la bocca diverse volte, ma parlò solamente dopo un lungo minuto di silenzio. «Sono cresciuto in una casa in cui la famiglia era il valore più importante, ma quando le cose si sono messe male sono rimasto da solo. La nostra storia è importante per me. Non posso perdere nessuno di voi, quindi assicurati che non perda te, questa notte, Clover,» sussurrò. Forse fu la luce, ma lui avrebbe potuto giurare di aver visto un luccichio, come qualcosa di bagnato, negli occhi di Boar. Lo abbracciò con forza e gli diede un bacio sulla guancia. «Non accadrà»

«Una volta, per la vigilia di Capodanno, gli dissi che non avevo mai usato i fuochi d’artificio, così li rubò dal vicino per fare colpo su di me. Tuttavia, quando li accese, combinò un casino. Hai notato che gli manca un dito. Ecco il motivo. Lo chiamo piromane da allora.» Clover avvicinò le ginocchia al petto. Avrebbe tanto voluto che qualcuno lo avesse fatto per lui. Forse era una storia un po’ raccapricciante per via del dito mancante, ma anche romantica in un modo che solamente Pyro e Boar potevano rappresentare. «La cosa più carina che un mio ex ha mai fatto per me è stata ricordare che non mi piacciono i cetrioli nell’hamburger.» Boar scoppiò a ridere ma continuò a mangiare. «Così capisci quando una persona ci tiene davvero a te. Quando ricordano piccole cose. Quando fanno qualcosa di carino per te. Pyro sarà anche un po’ folle a volte, ma tiene molto alle persone importanti della sua vita. Puoi fidarti di lui.» Clover si strinse nelle spalle. «Se ho imparato qualcosa sul mondo, è di non fidarmi di nessuno. Il mio ex, quello del cetriolo, mi ha tradito, e Jerry, il mio capo, il mio padrone di casa e amico, mi ha venduto a dei trafficanti di uomini, quindi non mi aspetto più molto dalle persone. Niente aspettative, niente problemi»

Prima di conoscere i mercenari, Clover non si sarebbe mai aspettato di avere sentimenti così forti per più di una persona. Inoltre, nel caso di Pyro e Boar, aveva creduto di poter essere il terzo incomodo nella loro relazione, ma dato che quei due erano così aperti e calorosi, aveva messo da parte quel pensiero. Il loro accordo poteva anche essere insolito, ma funzionava. Non si sentiva meno desiderato perché quei due erano una coppia Non era geloso, e nemmeno loro due lo erano, perché si sentiva appagato all’idea di condividere sia l’affetto sia il piacere fisico.

As a manager, you have the potential to create a fire—passion—in others, but to do this, first, we have to create a spark. Think of the Fourth of July. People gather to watch the sky light up with beautiful fireworks. It’s fun watching a child gaze into the dark sky to see it light up with a spectrum of colors. And how much fun are sparklers, right? From sparklers to rockets, fireworks have one thing in common—they start with a spark. They are ignited! This spark allows each firework to leave the ground and explode, and thereby create joy for all those watching. Sometimes fireworks are beautiful, but if not done correctly they can just fizzle out. Consider yourself a pyro-technician of people. A pyro-technician is the person responsible for the safe storage, handling, and functioning of fireworks and some explosives. As managers, you are in charge of the safe storage, handling, and functioning of the people you supervise. The fireworks you see will be displayed in your employee’s attitudes. When an employee is fizzling out, we call this burnout and it can happen to any employee, even yourself. You need to be able to recognize it.

Neglectful boy. Unless I give you permission, you come back to my bed. I don’t care if it’s five in the morning and you’re full of Boar and Pyro’s spunk. You come back to me. Understood?

«Clo, non posso permettere che Tank ti porti via. Prima devi sposare me. Ti prego. Drake ti accompagnerà all’altare.» Clover lo fissò troppo a lungo, cosa che gli fece capire che gli avesse creduto, anche se soltanto per un minuto. Alla fine, gli schiaffeggiò una mano e un luccichio comparve nei suoi occhi blu, indicando che avesse capito tutto. «Stronzo!» Pyro ridacchiò e gli baciò la parte frontale dei pantaloni prima che il coro di uccelli schiamazzasse. «Ti è piaciuto. Ammettilo.» Clover arricciò le labbra, ma cominciarono subito a fremere. «Sì, okay, forse era proprio quello di cui avevo bisogno.» «È una donna spaventosa.» Il ragazzo si mise le mani tra i capelli. «Mi sta facendo impazzire. Mi sento su un campo minato.» Lui scoppiò a ridere e aprì la credenza per prendere dei bicchieri. «Già. Le famiglie… causano soltanto problemi.» «È solo che… non voglio mettere in imbarazzo Tank, capisci? Lei è importante per lui»

«La treccia,» borbottò Tank rivolgendosi a Pyro quando lo vide passare. Che senso aveva indossare un passamontagna se i suoi capelli blu si vedevano da dietro? Ne avevano già discusso, ma Pyro si rifiutava di tagliare quella treccia. Doveva essere speciale. Una volta lui aveva insinuato che Pyro compensasse la sua altezza con qualcosa di stravagante, ma un naso rotto dopo, Tank non ne aveva più fatto parola

La sera dell’incarico misterioso, sfumature rosso lampone colorarono il tramonto e, anche se Pyro aveva continuato a scherzare sul nuovo ruolo che aveva lui nel gruppo, l’umore generale era rimasto cupo tutto il giorno. Anche Drake, che aveva concordato che lui dovesse gettarsi nella mischia, sembrava teso in maniera insolita, quindi Clover aveva deciso di alleggerire l’atmosfera. Eppure, seduto accanto a Tank sui sedili anteriori del loro furgoncino, cominciò ad agitarsi. Sebbene avesse imparato a sparare contro una sagoma, non gli era mai piaciuto uccidere o fare del male agli altri. Tuttavia, la pistola al suo fianco significava che era in grado di farlo. Aveva il potere e quello cambiò il modo in cui guardò il mondo che lo circondava. Se era abbastanza veloce e in grado di schivare i colpi, con un’arma a distanza poteva sconfiggere persone molto più grosse di lui. Sarebbe andata bene. Era il suo primo lavoro, quindi i ragazzi gli avrebbero guardato le spalle Diede un bacio a Tank su una guancia nel tentativo di placare la tensione nata tra di loro dopo la lotta di qualche giorno prima. L’atteggiamento di Tank esprimeva quanto ci tenesse ma, anche se Clover sapeva che il suo uomo lo faceva per il suo bene, aveva bisogno di fargli capire che non poteva restare per sempre in una bolla come un ragazzo premio. Sebbene amasse la protezione del suo Paparino, era un uomo in grado di prendere delle decisioni importanti. Non poteva restare per sempre ai margini della loro piccola famiglia. Era meglio per tutti che Tank lo capisse al più presto

Quando Boar si avvicinò, Clover capì che non avrebbe più abbandonato quel letto se non lo avesse fatto subito, cosa che avrebbe portato Tank all’esasperazione, costringendolo ad andare a prenderlo. Per quanto allettante, non voleva far aspettare il suo Paparino. Boar scosse il capo quando Clover si allontanò per mettere i piedi giù dal letto. «Pyro non è mai stato un amante delle regole. È sempre andato alla ricerca della diversità,» disse, osservandolo con un sorrisino. «Difficile dire che cosa veda in me,» scherzò, perché Boar non era un tipo insicuro. Se lo era stato in passato, Pyro era di sicuro riuscito a cambiarlo con il suo amore. Pyro accarezzò la testa di Boar senza però staccare gli occhi da lui, come una sorta di laser. «E tu sei… non riesco a smettere di guardarti.» Clover rimise gli occhiali e sogghignò, crogiolandosi nel calore di quella venerazione che continuava a sconvolgerlo ogni volta che realizzava di trovarsi in viaggio con quei ragazzi da un mese. Sembrava che fosse trascorso più tempo. Non sapeva se dipendesse dall’intensità del loro legame o dal fatto che fossero perfetti insieme, ma si era abituato a quell’affetto inaspettato come una ciambella nell’olio sfrigolante. In passato, aveva sempre mal sopportato il suo albinismo, ma aveva cambiato atteggiamento negli ultimi anni. A volte era ancora insicuro, come quando un uomo gli diceva che non era il suo tipo «Non sono strani. Sono solo insoliti. Suppongo che sia terribile che tu non veda senza gli occhiali, ma capita spesso.» Pyro deglutì, spingendolo a guardare verso di lui. Il mercenario sorrise e mostrò i denti. «Credo che siano bellissimi; come il resto di te, Clo.» Il cuore di Clover cominciò a palpitare, e si avvicinò per un bacio così sincero da lasciarlo senza fiato. A volte, Pyro sapeva essere davvero sporcaccione ma anche altrettanto dolce. Un uomo a cui piacevano gli estremi. Non c’era da meravigliarsi che le faccende domestiche e un’uniforme fossero state una prigione per lui. «Grazie.» Boar gli baciò la testa e gli ridiede il pettine. «Tutto fatto.» Per un istante, nessuno si mosse, creando un adorabile ritratto di famiglia allo specchio, con Boar che lo abbracciava da dietro e Pyro che lo fissava con affetto. Tuttavia, mancava una persona. La stessa che di sicuro voleva sapere perché non avessero dormito insieme la notte precedente

«Sei irrequieto. È la riunione di famiglia che ti innervosisce? So che non ti piacciono.» Nemmeno il bacio delicato sull’orecchio riuscì a diminuire il suo nervosismo. «Mi è passata, e poi ormai sono un orfano,» rispose, anche se strinse il braccio sul suo petto. Boar aveva un buon odore quella sera. Come una coperta morbida con cui voleva avvolgersi Nemmeno a me piace pensare alla famiglia che ho perso, ma ci possiamo sostenere a vicenda, anche questa è una famiglia, no? Anche se strana, criminale e incestuosa.» Appoggiò la fronte sulla spalla di Boar e lo abbracciò. «Sei folle. Posso essere così soltanto con te. Forse è questo che ti rende la mia famiglia, se insisti che debba averne una.» «Certo che ne hai bisogno.» Boar intrecciò le dita con le sue e, in quel giardino, sotto le stelle, in quella casa tranquilla, Pyro lasciò libere le sue fantasie. Immaginò loro due a ottant’anni, a bere cocktail tutto il giorno, al casinò e, diamine, forse anche con un pavone bianco, perché no, cazzo? «Ti amo. Solamente tu puoi vedere questa parte di me,» mormorò Pyro, nascondendo il viso nell’incavo del collo di Boar. Era l’unico che non rideva mai di lui o si approfittava della sua debolezza. Inoltre, era quello di cui aveva bisogno. Funzionava alla grande

Pyro’ will get you flareon, calling it ‘Rainer’ will get you a vaporeon, and calling it ‘Sparky’ will get you a jolteon.

Un orgasmo avrebbe posto fine a quel tormento. «Cazzo,» sibilò, mentre il suo corpo pulsante era più che pronto. Pyro gli strinse la base del cazzo. «Oh, non puoi,» disse con voce roca. «È per me, non per te.» L’urlo di delusione che emise ebbe vita breve, perché Pyro lo penetrò in una breve sequenza e si fermò non appena venne dentro di  lui. Era finita. Era solamente una puttana, proprio come aveva detto Drake prima di andare via, quando aveva espresso davanti a tutti il suo disgusto. Non avrebbe dovuto importargli. Tuttavia, non era così Forse la sua vita non era a rischio, ma se la gabbia in cui si era intrufolato alla ricerca di protezione fosse diventata ancora più piccola?

Clover non si era mai sentito così rilassato come in quel momento, seduto sul grembo di Tank, infischiandosene della sua nudità, del comportamento da stronzo di Drake e delle persone che lo fissavano. Tank gli massaggiò la schiena e, fregandosene di quello che pensavano gli altri, Clover si sentì fiero di essere il loro giocattolino. Pieno di sperma e lividi sul braccio, dove Pyro lo aveva stretto con forza, amava essere il loro bene più prezioso, e non era imbarazzato di mostrare il suo corpo. In quel momento, era anche disposto a tatuarsi i loro nomi

-Pyro, regarde-moi. Tu vas bientôt avoir seize ans, et tu n'as jamais vu le ciel, parce que tu es né ici. Moi, je suis née sous un ciel infini, dans un océan si immense que tu es né ici. Moi, je suis née sous un ciel infini, dans un océan si immense que tu ne peux même pas l'imaginer. J'en ai profité durant bien des années, et il y a un mois encore je dansais sous des étoiles que tu n'as connues qu'en rêve. Voilà pourquoi tu dois aller avec Lady Lore et les enfants. Pour voir les étoiles, le ciel et la mer. Tu ne dois pas mourir avant de les avoir vus, les avoir vus pour de vrai, pas seulement un morceau de ciel et trois étoiles blafardes perdues entre deux immeubles... -Mais pourquoi? -Tu comprendras lorsque tu les verras.