Central City's Flame Charmer
mick rory: heatwave

frigidandsharp:

Mick, if there was a spontaneous fiery anything while you were gone, everyone blamed you at the drop of a hat.

Reasonable.

flyingambulist:

fireadmirer:

Please don’t. I suppose you have left a legacy, though. Good for you.

Suppose?

Mickey
Mickey
Mickey, my good sir.

I’m made of Legacy. 

That so.

tags → #flyingambulist 
Mick, is that you? -Jerrie/rathawayprincess ((OOC: Welcome back. :) ))
Anonymous

Yeah, it’s me.

flyingambulist:

fireadmirer:

flyingambulist:

I could be in Hong Kong and I’d still be a suspect

You would, though. That’s the sad part. You’ve got a reputation.

Sad part? That’s the great part. 

Means people aren’t forgetting me, dude. Hell I’d set up a remote controlled pain-in-the-ass just to keep up the idea you’ll never escape me. 

Please don’t. I suppose you have left a legacy, though. Good for you.

flyingambulist:

fireadmirer:

…You’re still a suspect.

I could be in Hong Kong and I’d still be a suspect

You would, though. That’s the sad part. You’ve got a reputation.

flyingambulist:

fireadmirer:

Not me

I don’t believe you.

Man I don’t even ~live~ there it totally wasn’t me

…You’re still a suspect.

Not me

I don’t believe you.

tags → #flyingambulist 

fireadmirer started following you

pyro-flame:

"Oh, yeah, you are so not my father." Frowns again. Could this be him? One that Sam was talking about? Or Old Mark?

"Flame. I don’t go around and tell my name to strangers." Shakes his head and wonders if this is really Heatwave.

He nodded steadily. “Flame, right. You shouldn’t tell strangers your name, yeah. Keep doing that. Good idea.” A shrug. “Good nickname, too.”

frigidandsharp:

fireadmirer:

His very subtle smile stayed for a bit longer because of the dog happily granting him attention. And he returned the favor, lightly grasping the sides of her head and scratching behind both of her ears. It was a little different to have an energy like this in the place. Sure, there were different sorts of impressions from their varied cast, but a dog was just a happy innocence. 

"I turned 42 while I was gone, I’m sure you know that. Really, we aren’t quite that bad, but we’ve put more stress on ourselves than the average person by far." He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes and just running his hand down Venus’ back.

"Things are always changing around here. I’m gone for a little under a year, and…" he didn’t want to go on. Saying it like that sounded like he’d been gone for ages. “I haven’t… had any accidents. Just so you know. I think I’ve got my powers in check, though they do sort of fluctuate with my emotions. But we knew that before I left."

"And I turned 43." Len watched as Venus settled against those hands, happy as can be. Mick must have felt pleasantly warm for her, compared to the frigid room she was usually kept up in - though a dog like her was fond of that in the heat of summer. 

"I wasn’t so bad before I became a walking icicle. Now if I spend a day outside in the summer, I get heat stroke. Granted, for 43, I’ve lived pretty well, with my share of bullet wounds, cuts, burns, and the concussion or two left by Speedsters." Given that almost every burn came right from Mick. In fact, he wasn’t sure that any burn scar that he still had came from any other source. 

"We always change, Mick, but it’s not anythin’ that’ll drive you out, you know that." Len leans forward a bit when Mick continues, leaning on his forearms against the table. “Mine do, too. I figured, with the fire in your veins now, that you’d have a firmer grasp on it, better control than you had when you couldn’t call it to you at a moment’s notice. I’d imagine our powers work fairly similarly, at least in some aspects."

He sat in quiet contemplation for a bit after Len was finished speaking. Remembering what he learned about Len’s powers before he left, he supposed they definitely did work in similar ways. It was sort of funny. Their dynamic was something that always fascinated or amused people. Mick hated it at first. He hated anything associated with cold, and Len fell under that easily. He was a personification of cold. But now, though he still hated the feeling of cold, even more so now, he liked Len.

They were friends now, and their powers were on opposite ends of the spectrum but still similar. He considered the possibility that fate existed briefly before letting it slip from his mind. 

"Hotel rooms suffered more than their fair share of damage wherever I went. It’s sort of a default, now. The furniture might have to deal with it." He huffed out a sigh quickly and glanced upward. "It’s useful. I’d prefer to have it, now that I do. If we had this sort of thing back at the start, we’d have fucked the whole city. I know that."