Characters: Rogue and Logan Location: A random roadhouse in Alberta, Canada Timeline: When Rogue gets the telepathic message, a day before Magneto's meeting Description: Oooh boy.
No one had heard high nor hear from Rogue for quite sometime, it was almost as if she had completely fallen off of the radar. If she weren't so jaded from the whole experience, she might have found it humorous that life-altering decisions could be made in split seconds. If asked, she couldn't ...wouldn't..explain what was going through her mind when she decided to not return with the others back to New York. Rogue wanted to hope she had chosen correctly. Her body had sustained wounds, but it was her mind, more importantly, that needed to be healed. Unfortunately for her, the mind wasn't something like a broken arm that could just be put in a cast. It needed time, yes, but there wasn't necessarily one perfect way to reassemble her fractured mind.
Her tour had taken her around the world which is why she found herself in Canada next -- almost home. She had obtained a motorcycle somewhere between Anchorage and Juneau. Before this her means of transportation had been her gift of flight (stolen from Ms. Marvel.) The idea of the whole thing still left a sour stomach in the pit of her stomach. She drove hard from the Yukon, cutting across British Columbia, and was now in northern Alberta in good time. She went where the wind took her and that happened to be, at the moment, a road house off the side of the freeway. She was thirsty and Rogue had a good feeling about this place. Her bike rumbled deep and loud as she circled around the bar, although she doubted it could be heard over the din inside.
Plucking her helmet from her head she hung it on the handle bars. Glove hands smoothed out the wrinkle in her dark bandanna that had her hair pulled back. Then they trailed down and gave a flick to her sunglasses before entering.
This was becoming pointless. The search for this mysterious female with claws and a hatred for him, supposedly out of Weapon X was starting to shift. What started as a cat and mouse game, setting the bait away from the mansion, now turned into a wild goose hunt. Logan seriously doubted that she existed at this point, especially with Wade's word on the line. His search now took him farther north, closer to the past than he even anticipated ever reaching. Regardless, he was here, in Canada, and seemed to be lost on his next action.
The time away from the mansion was starting to grow into a mixture of regret and exhilaration. The travels of the road, especially back north, in the winter seasons, brought something out in him - More subdued than what he had shown his friends and loved ones lately, a fucking hot blooded monster with a reckless regard for the lives of others. Logan sighed heavily as he sat at the bar, a pitcher of beer before him. He hated it when that side of him came out, downright feared it at times. It wasn't like he had many optioned, honestly. and he did try his best to protect everyone...
Protection, thats what this came down to. While he was out here, hunting, what if the mansion was under attack? Did Ororo do as he instructed? Should he have given her more details instead of the typical 'See ya' deal? The longer he was away from his home, the more anxious he was starting to become. The questions loomed over him, nagging at the back of his mind, and the man was unable to stop them from appearing. Quickly, he closed his eyes and shook his head, as though trying to rattle the thoughts free. The mug before him was clasped and beer poured into it from the pitcher before he downed the amber liquid to try and forget.
A cold breeze and a flurry of snow entered with Rogue as she opened the door. Her eyes moved around, observing the crowd quiclky, from behind the mirrored lenses of her sunglasses. Judging from the amount of bikes/trucks in the gravel lot out back she judged that it was the beginnings of a decent night for such a seedy in Northern Canada. It was soon after Rogue plucked them from her face, folded them up and stuck them in the pocket of her brown, leather jacket. Booted steps drew her closer to the bar, unexpecting that someone very familiar was very close
Closing the distance, Rogue cozied up to the bar, a footing to rest on the rail as she leaned. Two leather clad digits double tapped the marred surface of the bar before lifting them to hail down the bartender. When he spoke he was the type of man that had smoked a pack a day for the last twenty years, "What'll it be girlie, eh?" It really didn't make no matter to Rogue -- she had encountered so many people, so many different types of people over the last month. She lifted her chin into a nod and ordered a double whiskey and a strong Canadian beer. When in Rome..... In exchange from the drinks she left a note and a looney on top of the bar. She downed the shot quickly turning the glass over as she set it back down. She padded her pockets down in search of her cigarettes. Lighting a smoke up she took a swig of beer, then turned from the bar resting against it as she watched the other patrons.
Logan wasn't paying much attention to who entered and left the bar. They were all in the same anyway. The scent of smoke loomed heavily and thick in the air. Only when Rogue approached him did he pick up on a tinge of her scent. Her order of the beer only confirmed his suspicions, causing him to gaze in her direction. It was Rogue alright. A thick brow arched upwards for a moment when he saw her light the cigarette. What the hell was she doing here, in this bar, and in this country - let alone this part of it. The man gazed at her for another moment. "Long way from home, huh?" He asked lowly.
Once she realized someone was speaking to her, Rogue tipped her head inward, not quite looking at him yet her eyes still focused on the other patrons. Throughout her travels she had heard that same sentiment: based on her voice, on her looks, on her height - but her answer was always the same. She inhaled a drag off her cigarette, flicked it then released a wisp of smoke through her nose and mouth. "Ah guess that just depends on what yer definition of home is." Her beer was tipped back and as she pulled it away from her lips she shrugged. "Guess we're just all tryin' t'figure that out." It was true, even as a young child (or what she could remember from being a young child) she never honestly knew if Mississippi was her home. For a brief time she might have thought it was New York with her friends but after what had happened in Genosha she might not be so sure. If home was where the heart was she was definitely more worse off than she had expected.
Logan nodded slightly towards Rogue. He gazed away from her, settling his attention on the cold mug before him. "That's a good question..." There was a pause as he downed some of the amber liquid, almost wishing he could get drunk from it at the moment. This wasn't as awkward as he had initially thought - you know, considering that he damn near gutted the girl above the arena floor in Genosha.
"I can tell you that the answer ain't up here, darlin'. This is where people go to die." Well, that was true. Alberta had one of the largest industrial workforces that dealt with crude oil drilling. Most people died from being on the workforce.
Something was slightly amiss, it was obvious in her face. Her expression wasn't seized with horror, disgust, anger -- her normal reaction to Wolverine. But instead she held a neutral countenance. In fact, she didn't even seem to recognize the man, not by tone of voice, phraseology or stature. It was a self-defense mechanism which was making Rogue forget. Genosha, Ms. Marvel and Wolverine had all been too much for her to handle and at some point her brain had made the choice to block one of them out. Carol Danvers had become a permanent fixture in Rogue's grey matter, so her removal was going to be a bit more complicated. However, her amnesia was like putting a band aid on a bullet wound, it wasn't helping.
"Ah tell y'what though, sure nice t'be back in the Western world," she said taking another swig of the frosty beer. Her lips parted and she released a sigh of satisfaction. "Ain't that just hit the spot?" Rogue alternated between the beer and the cigarette inhaling deeply. "Well, thanks fer the tip, stranger. But rest assured, Ah'm made o' sterner stuff." Stranger? Western world?
Logan looked back up at her, eyebrow raised curiously. Only then was he able to finally see that something was wrong (then again, when is Rogue ever right?). His mouth opened, but it took a moment for him to find the words. If she had forgotten him, which was something that he wasn't about to shrug off so easily, he understood what it was like to not know things that happened in one's life. Hell, he still had no idea why he was able to understand Japanese near fluently.
"I'm not a stranger," he started in a low timber. "Rogue, you know me." Sure, she knew him... But would she suddenly remember the pain that he caused her and start a scene here if he stated his name? "And you're far from your home right now."
Rogue tipped back the beer finishing it off in another mouthful. The empty bottle she returned to bar as she flagged down the barman and ordered another round. This time she paid with a few crumpled notes from her pocket that she did her best to straighten in her gloved hands, still holding the lit cigarette between two digits. She looked up at Wolverine, taking a good long look at him. There was a vague glimmer of recognition in those green eyes, but she just shook her head. Ms. Marvel held tight reigns over Rogue's mind and continued to manipulate the girl to achieve her agenda.
Rogue snorted a chuckle through her nose. "How many of them have y'had already?" was her blunt inquiry. Stabbing out the cigarette in a nearby tray. She picked up the shot and glanced over at Wolverine, "Maybe this'll make me remember," she snickered. Lifting the glass to her lips she knocked the shot back smoothly.
Logan visibly frowned. Trouble seemed to like finding him, and now it was in the form of an amnesiac Rogue...
He stood from his seat and took a step towards her, close enough so that if he spoke lowly, only the two of them would hear it. "I know why you wear those gloves, kiddo," he uttered lowly. "You don't remember Bobby or John at all? Failing my classes?"
Mid-drink she looked at him as he approached where she was perched at the bar. His words caused her to glance down where she caught a glimpse of leather clad digits and she slowly lowered the beer. This was upsetting Rogue and it was apparent on her face. Her brows knit together atop of her youthful brow. "Ah don't know what yer playin' at, mister. Or how y'know Bobby or John..." She shifted slightly and returned the beer to the bar, her eyes still locked on Logan's face, still searching for some sign that someone was playing a prank on her. But she was too far away from everyone and everything that she knew for that to be the case. Her body postured stiffened and Rogue stood to her full height, "Ah ain't ever seen y'before in my life." Like an abused child, or a soldier suffering from post traumatic stress, Logan had totally been deleted from her mind and in his place: just nothing.
At least he was able to get her to mention the fact that she knew Bobby and John. Her body language when he mentioned her powers told him that she was far from forgetting everything - only him.
It actually hurt for a moment, to be standing next to the girl that found him and brought him to what he now considers home... And she couldn't place him to memory. But after all that he did to her, he couldn't exactly blame her.
Turning away from her, he downed some more beer from his mug and sighed lowly. "We met this way. In a bar, upstate, like this... Except that we ended up attracting a bit of attention, not the good sort, and were kicked out. You ended up following me then." He shrugged. "And then he found ourselves, together... Sort of."
He then motioned to sit back down. "But, hey, no sweat if you can't remember. I understand. Shit happens. Sometimes its best to forget."
She likened it to trying to remember something that happened years ago, the details had just grown at bit fuzzy. Coupled with the fact her psyche was damaged, her recollection of him just wasn't clicking. Even has he recounted their very first meeting.... nothing. "Ah ain't ever met y'before in my life," Rogue reiterated. "Ah ain't ever even been in Canada before. Ah don't now what th'hell yer talkin' 'bout. Now yer tellin' me.." Rogue scowled, seemingly disgusted as she tried to form the words in her mouth. "Now yer tellin' me...you an' Ah.." Her finger flicked between pointing Wolverine and then back at herself. "Are some how involved? Whatever that means." She swallowed. What did that mean. He looked about fifteen years her senior...the implications freaked her out. But on the other hand if he was the only one able to touch her...she wanted to remember.
Rogue fell silent as Logan seemed to dismiss the conversation and turn his attentions into his mug of beer. She was left speechless and stammering, staring into the back of his head. She herself, whipped around and snagged her beer slamming half. Double tapping his shoulder fiercely, "Who th'hell are you?"
Her questions and seeming disgust caused Logan to laugh. "No, kiddo, we were never 'involved' that way," he started, still grinning. Surely she'd see a hint of those elongated canines of his. "We were friends once. But, that was a long time ago, I guess." He didn't really know what to add to her continual dismissal of him. If she really forgot who he was, it might have been for the better.
Again, he turned away from her so that he can down the rest of his mug. "Logan," he added, offering her a sidelong glance. "I'm Logan."
"So...you can't?.." she just motioned towards herself, which was her way of verifying whether or not they had....relations. "This is fuckin' surreal," she muttered underneath his chuckle. This place, his story...he kept calling her kiddo. Rogue needed way more alcohol. They weren't fighting and it was only attributable to one thing: the fact that Rogue had know idea who he was. Was she really better off? "Logan," she repeated slowly. She just shook her head. "Ah'm...well Ah guess," she cast a glance in his direction, "Ah guess y'already know who Ah am." Rogue took in the other patrons once more, making sure this interaction was of no consequence. Her voice dropped slightly, "And are you a...?"
"I've touched you before, but not in that way," Logan confirmed this by shaking his head. "You've seen some pretty heavy shit from what I've got locked away up here." He tapped the side of his head, indicating his mind. "And I can't touch you without hurting either of us." Both literally and metaphorically.
"It'll come to you eventually, darlin'. I know it will, just like everything else." Turning back towards her again, he took on a serious tone. "Just, if you end up dreaming some crazy shit, don't toss it aside as just a dream. It's probably something more, something trying to get out, but doesn't know how to... Trust me, follow it. It'll lead you where you wanna go." Where that was, he didn't know.
Her last question caused him to nod slightly. "I'm just like you, Rogue." But he wasn't exactly about to show her. The pitcher was lifted and more beer was poured into his now empty mug. "Lost, confused, chasing after something I thought I knew, ending up in a bar somehow." Again, he turned towards her, eyes deeply set with understanding. "And - special, like you... If you can call it that." Mutant.
"That's good to know, Ah guess," she nodded. He spoke with a level-headed calm and his advise sounded reasonable and caring."Ah'm sorry, Ah don't remember you." Rogue fell silent, listening to Logan for once....in a long time. It was a lot to take in all right now. Her gloved hand rubbed her eyes, then fingers traced down to her lips giving them a tug. She was growing that was for sure. "You gotta fergive me, if Ah seem a little skeptical...Ah mean, this is all just a little bit t'much fer me right now. This is...kinda weird. An' ah've been in some pretty strange situations. Ah'm from New York," Rogue expelled a sigh, "Ah mean, Ah guess...not really, but Ah gotta place there. An' Ah ain't slept in my own bed in a month. Ah'm just road weary an right now..yer just blowin' my mind."
"So you're a m...like me?" She stopped herself from saying the big M word, for his sake. Rogue was fully capable of fighting out of situations when she needed to or fleeing when the situation called for it. But him? Who the hell knew? For all she knew his mutation could have been that he had double eyelids. Although from the scrappy look of him, she doubted it was something so sissy.
"Thanks," her lips pulled upward into a smile before she took in another mouthful of beer. That's when it hit her like a gong ringing inside of her cranium, the telepathic message reverberating through each of the fractured pieces of her psyche. Carol Danvers let loose a blood curdling scream and her reigns she held of the girl's mind slackened some.. Rogue froze for a moment, the beer falling from her hand and spilling the last bit of its contents on the bar. The King is back. Meet at the Central Waterfront tomorrow at 8pm. She sucked in quick gasp as the message dissipated. Rogue blinked her eyes clear, the present and the now slowly returning to her. She mouthed the words silently to herself, in an attempt to decipher their meaning until clarity was achieved. The king? The King? Magnus...Magneto...Magneto was back? Her mouth fell slack at the shock of the news. (d)
"Don't mention it," Logan nodded, not wanting to push issues any further, especially if it was strange for her already.
Her sudden move, the dropping of the beer, and the slackening of her jaw caused him to react. Logan stood from his stool and motioned to her, seeing if she was well. Maybe she finally put the pieces together and remembered? "Rogue? You okay, kiddo?" He questioned her, seeing the movement of her lips. A few of the silent words were clear to him, thanks to his training with government and military agencies in many years now passed.
King? Magneto? Was that what she mouthed out? He didn't want to touch her, nor get close enough to frighten her, especially if she did come to her senses. "You alright, darlin'?"
The bar man who hadn't taken kindly to Rogue's appearance seemed super irritated when she spilled her beer all over the bar. "Hey girlie, this ain't no daycare, eh. You drink it or you get out," he said while he jerked his thumb towards the door.
Her hand lifted to her forehead where her fingers ebbed out the deep groove that had formed there. "Ah feel like Ah just got hit with a sack o' bricks." Although she wanted to cry out for answers and ask why this was happening to her she tried to work with it. Composing herself and gathering her thoughts the best she could she looked, now, at Logan who she realized was standing right there. There was clarity in her eyes for the first time this entire evening. "Wol...Logan why are you here? What's going on?" Her mind was racing now that Ms. Marvel's personality fell to the wayside for a moment. "Are you followin' me?" She gripped her temples once more, "Oh, my head," she groaned. Rogue definitely didn't like telepaths, definitely no. "Ah ain't goin' back with you, Ah ain't goin' to jail," she said quickly. She was unaware about the fate of the Brotherhood...Magneto was obviously ..alive, but what about the others? Where were they? With the X-Men? In a maximum security prison? She had absolutely no idea.
That thought rolled around in her head and would require further contemplation, but....Magneto was alive! Rogue lifted her fingers and covered her mouth.
After hearing the bartender toss his crude remark towards Rogue, Logan cast a look in his direction. "Leave her alone," he snarled towards the man, showing that he was serious. "She's with me." Oh, this was deja vu. Only after the man backed down did he turn his attention back towards her.
"I ain't following you, kiddo," Logan offered in a calm manner, showing that he wasn't a threat to her. "I was here, looking for someone, and..." Why is he here? It's a bar. "I was getting a drink. You came in well after I was sitting down and all ordered up." Now his brow lowered in concern. "Rogue, you okay? That noggin of yours seems a bit fuzzy... You didn't even recognize me a few minutes ago. I'm not going to do anything to you," he assured her. "No jail, no," his voice lowered significantly, "X-Men, or any of that. You're fine." She went through a lot and deserved her freedom.
She was beginning to get a grasp on what battles were worth fighting and which she had to just let roll down her back. Now she hadn't paid any mind to the bar tender, until Logan had said something. "This is why..." Rogue sighed..her and that mouth always getting her in trouble. Talking with out thinking was something she really needed to work on. But she supposed since the thought was already started she might as well finish it. "This is why you an' me don't get along. Ah ain't with you. An' Ah know how t'protect myself."
"Just gettin' a drink?" She looked at him with great skepticism. "Ain't it a bit far for just a drink?" It wasn't adding up to her and all she could think about was that someone was after her at first step onto North American territory. "Hm? My head? Ain't nothin' wrong with me," she lied.
"Did you not just hear me say that I was looking for someone?" Logan asked her, feeling his patience starting to strain. "Ask anyone in this fuckin' bar if you were fine on your own five minutes ago, Rogue..." He motioned to sit back down, lifting his mug. Yes, he was getting a drink. "You didn't know where you were, who I was, and why."
"Listen, if you want to float around with memory lapses, then be my guest," he shrugged his shoulders. "I was just offering help... And if you wanna handle yourself," he turned back towards the bartender for a moment. "Kick her out if you want. Apparently, she can handle herself." Logan indicated towards Rogue with a jut of his chin in her direction.
She didn't want to hear it, but most of all that she didn't want to admit that maybe she did need his help or maybe that something wasn't really right with her and it wasn't going to just fix itself on its own. Yet at the same time Rogue wasn't going to take any of his shit. "Don't pretend like y'got all the answers, cause you don't. You don't even know who you were...who you are. An' when Ah need yer help, Ah'll ask. "
Her eyes lifted from Logan to the approaching barman and narrowed a fraction. "Y'ain't gonna have to do that, friend." She carried herself well, but she increasingly felt out of her element: being super-American, super-southern and very...very...un-Canadian all of a sudden. "Ah'm leavin'. Reaching into her pocket she pulled a simple set of keys out of her pockets. "Here," she tossed the keys onto the bar top in front of Logan, "Ah'm sure you'll figure out what to do with it. Ah got somwhere to be." And quick -- Rogue needed to fly.
"I liked you better when you had no idea who I was," Logan rolled his eyes as he uttered the words lowly. He didn't even bother to retort towards her. There was no time for pettiness such as Rogue, someone who wanted everything without knowing where to start. There were issues that he had himself.
The keys that were tossed on the bar top before him get nothing more than a passing glance as Logan reached for his mug to take another long gulp of beer. "Fuckin' women," he offered towards the bartender with a shake of his head.
Now that Rogue was gone, what the hell was he to do. She was wrong. He knew exactly who he was, but he didn't know what the hell he was doing up here in Canada. And for that matter, he had no idea why he was lingering here for so long and not heading back down to the mansion yet. Maybe he just didn't want to be bothered with it all? Maybe he was using this chase as an excuse for a vacation at this point -- Hopefully without running into anyone else at this point.