fandomhigh | How to Blow Things Up

Aly was more subdued than she normally would be as she met the students in the Danger Shop.

"Okay, everyone," she said, glancing around at the class. "This is going to be our first practical class here in the Danger Shop to help get you guys used to the feel of explosives before we work with them in a less controlled setting - or before you can actually blow yourself up instead of what you're aiming for."

"We're going to deal with improvised devices today, and two in particular, but first you do need to know a bit about the theory," Aly gave a concise but thorough lecture on explosive materials and the science behind them. The impression she gave off was one of a child dutifully eating his meat so he could get to the pudding. Practicalities were obviously more interesting to her.

"The two explosives we're going to work with today are two improvised explosives. You don't always have access to military material and you definitely don't always need it. One of the most common explosives in this word - and also one of the easiest to make is anfo - fertiliser and fuel oil. It sounds simple, but it's an immensely powerful explosive. A ton or so in a the right place could blow up a cargo ship and the harbor it's sitting in - if you can get it into the cargo ship, of course. The other is less an explosive than a weapon. Molotov cocktails - half gasoline, and half motor oil - you've probably already heard of them if you're from this world. They're easy to make and can do a lot of damage especially against gasoline engines or wood structures."

"What the plan is today is to spend some time discussing tactics with these weapons. When would one of these particular types of explosive devices be useful? Then make the anfo into a bomb, put together a Molotov cocktail, and blow some stuff up."

[OOC: ~~Please wait for the~~ OCD is up. All links in this one go to Wiki so no worries about the Feds. More explanation in the OCD threads. As a side note, the idea of anfo blowing up a ship and the harbour it's in is from an AWESOME series of books that begins with Tomorrow, When the War Began by John Marsden. Go read them. Seriously. *finishes pimping for the day*]

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She did not know what Oz-speak was but didn't ask cause she didn't want him to facepalm at her again. She did understand girl and luv so all was okay. She got it.

Blinking at him, Annette raised a brow and said, "I like Saint John better. I know too many John's to just call you John. If I mess up the pronounciation then you'll just have to excuse me. I'm not a yank." She shook her head. "I'm from the mid-west. And thanks? I'm not much of a screamer." Er.. "So, where are you from exactly?"

St. John resisted the urge to facepalm again--doing it to much started to hurt. "Fine with me. I've bore the cross this long."

He prodded gently at the wrecked Anfo while he spoke.
"I'm originally from Australia, but I moved to New York in 2000, and then came here. Nothin' too special." He shrugged nonchalantly, and glanced up at her.

"How 'bout you?"

She gave him a look but said nothing to that.

Watching him poke around at her wrecked bomb making stuff, she said, "Kansas City, Kansas though my parents now live in Manhattan. My dad is headmaster of Manchester prep. Think I should have another go at this anfo?"

St. John grinned and twiddled his fingers. "Ooh...A 'Prep' school, eh? Sounds like a lotta income. Wanna buy me a pony?"

He closely examined the anfo, gave it an extra poke for good measure, and nodded.

"Yeah, if ya'd like, I could help you out. I don't like to toot me own horn, but..." he made a macho pose, "Explosions are kinda my forte."

Annette leaned towards Saint John, "Are you making fun of me? 'Cause I sense a little making fun of Annette here. But if you really want a pony..." She blinked, grinning.

"Yeah, thanks, if you're good at this sort of stuff I would really appreciate the help." She sort of stared at that macho pose. Really, who wouldn't?

John made a little clapping gesture of joy and did a little dance. "Johnny's gettin' a pony! Johnny's gettin' a pony!" He stopped and tapped his chin thoughtfully. "And...there may have been a wee bit of teasery. Just a wee bit."

He waggled his eyebrows at her staring, and then began with the task of fixing her anfo. Cracking his knuckles, St. John studied the problem before him. "Well, the ~~handwavy doodad that John knows about~~ has too much of that ~~equally handwavy thing~~ mixed in. If you even the two out a bit, then you should get a nice, timed kaboom."

"I thought so," she said, unable to keep from laughing at him.

Annette paid attention to explanations of Saint John and nodded here and there to let him know she was getting it. "Okay," she said when he was done. "Got it. Right. I should be able to do that with no problem whatsoever. I can't wait to blow things up! Woohoo!"

"It is an exciting part of life." He said with an almost romantic sigh.

"We're born, we learn, we blow the hell out of things, and we die--hopefully not as a result of the hell-blowing."

She raised her brows, "Blow things up much, do you?"

He made a little hand gesture.

"Here and there; it's mainly for the fire..." he trailed off with a dreamy look on his face.

"Nothin' quite beats a loud, roaring enferno of orange and red...maybe green if I feel like throwing in some sugar or somethin'."

St. John snapped out of it and gave an embarrassed grin. "Plus, I get paid for it back 'home' and that's encouraging."

That dreamy look caught her attention and she worried a little about Saint John's enthusiasm towards fire.

"You should totally meet Johnny Storm. What do you do back home to get pain for making fires?"

"Johnny Storm?" He thought for a moment...and then a face matched the name.
"Fiery Guy? Yeah, I met him...lucky bastard." He muttered this last with great envy, though he should have been used to this sort of thing already. So many of the students had fire-releated powers, and their main problems were learning to control it.

But they could all start the fires without outside forces. He couldn't.

"Ahem...anyways," St. John continued back on topic. "I'm sort of...a er, how did Magsy put it? A 'fighting force for the freedom of all mutantkind' or somethin'. He's gotta thing for alliterations. But really, that sort of translates to mercenary." He gave a small, chagrined smile.

"But I'm the nice, fluffy kind of merc. Like a bunny, really."

Annette blinked. "He wasn't so lucky when he got punched in the face. But then that's another story and entirely unrelated to fire."

Her jaw sort of fell at the word mercenary and she could but stare at him, willing her mouth closed with a direct train of thought.

"Um. So. Wow. You accept money to fight on the behalf of mutants? Um." She looked down at the bomb stuff. "And...you blow stuff -- omigod. I think I should be scared right now. Don't hurt me."

He giggled slightly at the image of Storm getting punched, even though he had no real reason to dislike the guy. In fact, he'd been pretty nice to him so far.

St. John began to get that uncomfortable feeling in the pit of one's stomach when they know a situation just 360'ed on them.

"Hey now, I wouldn't--" He stopped himself, looking rather hurt at Annette's words, and took a step back from her with a resolute expression.

"I'll just...go back to my station." And he left her without another word.

She raised her brows. Okay. That might not have gone as well as she would have liked. She had just been thrown off guard for a second...maybe longer.

"Hey! Saint John!" She left her station and followed him over to his. "Sorry?" she offered feebly, looking uncomfortable. "You just, you know, surprised me. I know you wouldn't hurt anyone. Me. I...don't know why I said it. Sorry?"

His expression was decidedly blank as she apologized. And whatever floated through his mind was a mystery.

Then, he gave her a weak smile, and shrugged as if the whole thing meant nothing.

"It's alright. Hell, any sane person would've acted like that."

Oookay. Maybe she should have just left well enough alone.

"All right then, okay." Returning his weak smile with one of her own, Annette turned and walked back to her own station.

How to Blow Things Up - Period 1, Week 2

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