Characters: Logan "Wolverine" and Anna "Rogue" Raven NPCs: -- Location: Rogue's apartment above the XQ Time: Sunday, November 30th [backdated] Description: Logan comes a-callin' to see what the beef is with Rogue and gets to her to open up marginally. Rating: G OOC: I since this was backdated like a mo-fo I'm saying that Rogue's been keeping to herself fixing up the bar, just in case one day it should miraculously open in the near future.
Logan walked out of the darkness of Cerebro into the light of the late afternoon sidewalk. He patted his pocket where his cigar was waiting, thinking not yet. Taking a look in both directions down the street, and a long sniff, he started to stroll. He'd take a walk down to Rogue's now, he decided, get this dealt with while she was still thinking about it and before anyone started asking questions. He chose to walk. He almost never drove, and the bike, that was more of a joy of its own, like the cigar, not a tool.
Rogue's bar wasn't looking too good, as Logan was well aware. He frowned as he came up to it, growling at a kid loitering next to one of the broken windows. The kid scattered, but there had been too many of them these two years. Coming back to this must have added to the misery for her. But keeping it up, that would have been a sham. Better to see the truth staring you in the face sometimes.
Logan reached through a hole and unlatched the door, walking through the dank empty bar area. Her scent was decorating the air here once more, growing stronger as he headed up the stairs. Seemed likely she was home. His boot heels stopping outside her door, he gave it a good rap with his knuckles then stood waiting.
Roughly two weeks had passed since her release and Rogue had done nothing positive or productive in terms of cleaning her apartment. For the most part the cob webs stayed in the corner and the dust bunnies swirled around the hardwood floor. That is until today. She began the tedious process of cleaning, the faint scent of Murphy's Oil still hung in the air. It wasn't fun, but it had to be done. Rogue, though, never minded hard work too terribly.
The menial labor always kept her mind occupied. It seemed so normal, so ordinary, it made her feel human again. Its exactly what she needed after X sent out his call earlier. Rogue was less than thrilled. Already they were trying to plunge her back into that rat race. A scowl claimed her features every time she thought about it. She vowed next time she saw Charles she'd give him a piece of her mind. But for now it seemed better just to shut off and work.
Leaving the mop to rest against the wall, bucket by its side, she moved into the small kitchen to root around in the cabinets. What she found was a random collection of glasses and plates - not many and none matching. Unbuttoning her cuffs and rolling up her sleeves, Rogue turned the faucet to begin process of washing the dishes. The task at hand brought a faint smile to her face. It soon faded however at the knock.
Seriously? What now? Her mind went over the list of people that knew she was out and determined that she didn't want to see any of them. Expelling a sigh, she turned off the faucet and snagged a dish towel as she moved towards the door.
"Who is it?" she asked, opening the door only the length of the chain.
Logan of course heard her approaching the door and was ready, peering in the gap as she opened it. He had heard the sigh too, and so didn't expect any warm welcome. He nodded at her as she looked out at him. "Just me, babe," he answered, holding still and waiting for her reaction. "Let's talk."
A mixture of emotion swelled in her gut and was marked by a quick beat of her heart. Nerves? Maybe...although Rogue would never admit to that. It was more a bitter sweet melancholia that filled her with a tinge of annoyance. Always on everyone else's terms...why couldn't they just wait until she was ready to start seeing people?
She knew she couldn't leave his standing in the stairwell while she mulled it over. Rogue gave a quick nod and shut the door, reopening it free of chain. She left him there, though, and returned to the kitchen to resume the activity of dish-washing.
Logan didn't seem to take it poorly, coming in and shutting the door himself, locking it again for her. She obviously wasn't excited about company. He noted the Murphy's oil in the air, as well as the other scents of old dust kicked up and cleaning agents. "Been cleaning, huh?" was his comment on that. Boots stomping on the floor, he made sure not to walk through any piles of dust as he crossed the tiny apartment. He leaned against the fridge and watched her work, feeling for that cigar. "Mind if I light up?"
He stood in silence for a moment or two after that, getting used to her company again. That was the way with him, and perhaps she remembered it.
What was it that they said about asking a stupid question and getting a stupid answer? Rogue's eyebrows met together before one quirked upwards. "Yep," she said in simple confirmation of his inquiry. Rogue wondered what tipped him off. Maybe the mop and the bucket or the smell still lingering in the apartment or sink full of soapy dishes. She just shook her head. Her eyes slid over from the work in front of her to Logan. "Nope."
It was Colossus first, now Wolverine. She wasn't going to ask him what he wanted, although she briefly wondered if he was going to offer help like the Russian had. She'd be quick to remind him that she was indeed a big girl and could take care of herself. When Colossus visited her it was just weird and awkward and this social call was shaping up to be no different. Rogue didn't have a lot to say. Maybe, thanks for...well, nothing.
Turning the water back on she began to wash the grimy glasses. A mug, a tumbler, two random wine glasses... each then placed on a towel spread out on the counter for drying.
"Are ya just gonna stand there an' watch me work? Or did ya have somethin' to say? 'Cause if ya did, y'best be gettin' to it." If it came down to it, the easy way or the hard way, it was always the hard way with her. She just needed time and her space right now. The last two years proved to be harrowing. She had been institutionalized, re-educated and then thrust too soon back into the general population. All she knew how to do was hurt people. And that she did with unrivaled skilled. It was always best to keep people at an arm's length.
Logan spent the silence until Rogue spoke up lighting up his cigar. Pocketing his Zippo with one hand he took a look at the cigar in his other. He'd wanted to do this since before X called his little meeting. "Ya got X's call," Logan offered to her challenge. "And you didn't show up. So, I'm your welcoming committee, Rogue." He took a puff of the cigar while watching her. No, he didn't offer to help. Hell, he hadn't dirtied any of the dishes.
"We don't need to dance around, darlin'. You know we want you back in, and we're wondering where you're at. It takes some time to come back from where you've been. But givin' us all the silent treatment ain't gonna serve you well." Logan took another long, quiet puff. "You still need friends. More than ever, I'd guess."
Hastily she turned the faucet off, shaking her hands before patting them dry on her work pants. "Yeah, Ah got his call," she confirmed, there was a dry edge to her voice. Clearly Rogue was unimpressed. "Well, what if Ah don't want back in?" She needed a cigarette and she needed one now. Rogue felt around in her pockets and produced a cigarette, but couldn't find a lighter. She clenched her jaw, lips drawing into a taut line. She didn't know why, but she felt the urge to be resistant and contrary. She'd rather rub two sticks together than ask to borrow his lighter right now.
She'd come around sooner or later, she usually always did, she was just going through some things right now. It wasn't something she could easily explain. Her powers, her memories - they were wrong, all wrong and it scared her. She couldn't control them - control her. Carol in her entirety was still in her mind slowly driving Rogue insane. She was berated everyday by the woman she had murdered.
"Ah'm just ...tired, Logan. So tired," and she wasn't talking about physically. It was exhausting keeping her crazy from showing. "Ah..." she began, her voice wavering slightly. "Ah'm not the same. X shoulda left me in jail."
Logan had no clue what Rogue was truly dealing with, it wasn't something he could hear or smell though it was obvious she was out of sorts. Getting locked up could do that to you, Logan knew that. He'd spent his time in cages of one sort or another. "You'll straighten out soon enough," he said kindly in his gruff voice. He could see her feel for the lighter, but if she wasn't going to ask he wasn't going to give. That was one of those human games he didn't play he supposed. He was a softie in his own ways, but rough as rawhide in others.
"You know that's what they do to ya in there. They build ya a cage and then they make you think you deserve it. Just makes their job easier." He nodded at her, stepping forward to catch her eyes and make sure she was listening. "No one's askin' ya to come do jumping jacks for them. But, Rogue, you stay in here washing the floors and you'll go stir crazy. You're out, whether you like it or not. Ya can't hide in here and think things will start makin' sense."
Logan looked around and gave a sniff. "Besides, this place is clean enough. Downstairs smells like piss. Just ain't right, a nice bar like that should smell like beer and vomit."
There was something about his firm hand that made her want to be contrary. She wanted to fight and resist, but Rogue wasn't a little girl any more and Wolverine was a far cry from her Auntie.
For the time, Rogue tucked the cigarette behind her ear. She owned a bar for Christ sake - there had to be matches somewhere in this wretched place. Rogue opened up the junk drawer next to the sink sifting through the random items. A screwdriver, a tire gauge, twist ties, that pen Colossus had used to write on her arm and a slip of paper Rogue had used to transfer the number. It was a good thing she was keeping it safe... Ah-ha! In the back, a solitary match book. Rogue tugged it out of the corner it was wedged in, but unfortunately it was empty. Crumpling it quickly, she tossed it back into the drawer and shut it.
"Well, what if Ah don't?" The future seemed bleak and Rogue had no idea how to get Carol Danvers out of her head. If that was a possibility at all. Would she just have to cope with this for the rest of her life?
Crossing her arms over her chest, Rogue leaned her hip against the counter. "What if this is who Ah am," her shoulders rolled upward into a shrug. "Maybe we all just better resign ourselves that this is who Ah am now and that girl y'knew just ain't around no more." She scrubbed her hand down her face and sighed. "You make me talk too much. Ah just need time. Ah'll get the bar fixed."
Logan's stern look grew slightly more amused each second as he watched Rogue scrounging for matches. He couldn't help grinning a bit and showing off those canines as she opened the book to find it empty. "Well, you're still a stubborn little fool, ain't ya," he said with a chuckle. He fished out his Zippo, No sense for them both to be ridiculous. "So, we know you're not completely different."
Logan flipped open the Zippo for her and held it out, waiting to see if she's fish her cigarette back out. "Nobody's ever accused me of being too talkative before," he mused. "But if you're too quiet for me, must be something wrong. Why don't you just tell me what's on your mind. I think time's the last thing you need, you've had two years of that. Let's just get it out quick, like pus from a wound." Maybe that wasn't the most beautiful analogy, Logan considered, but it sounded right to him.
"I'm sure they didn't let you near nobody that whole time, did they? Couldn't let you close enough to touch anyone, probably just locked you up alone. Threw your food in like you were a dog. Left you to chew on your own tail. That's bound to wind you up tight, tight and hot." Logan took a puff on his cigar, watching her, trying to bait her out of that shell.
Rogue eyes narrowed in on the Zippo as clicked it open. After a quick moments deliberation, she slipped the cigarette back out from behind her ear. Placing it to her lips she bent in to light it from the offer flame. Inhaling deeply, she released the smoke through her nostrils and looked up at him before straightening. "Stubborn 'till the day Ah die," she said defiantly.
He was probably right and she knew it. Let out all the hurt...just like pus from a wound. But that was over simplifying things. It wasn't that easy, it was complicated. How could she do that when she didn't know where Rogue began and Carol ended?
"Ah ain't doin' this with you right now, Ah ain't havin' this conversation." Logan seemed to have hit the nail on the head, the way there was panicky insistence in her voice. "Ah told you Ah needed time - we ain't talkin 'bout this right now. Ah think you better go." Being overly emotional never helped a thing and Rogue would rather die than get to that point in front of anybody.
Logan didn't rub it in as she finally let him light her cigarette. Merely flipped the thing closed and pocketed it. He shrugged as she chose defiance still, the prickle of heat in her voice showing through. He had pushed her a little because she was his friend. He'd probably push her more another time, but not now. For the most part Logan was one to let people make their own choices, whether he knew best or not. He'd never let anyone tell him how to live, so he didn't much expect different from others.
"All right, we ain't talkin'. Got it. I'll tell you what, Rogue darlin'. I'm coming over tomorrow and help you clean up the ol' XQ. Those shits over at Cerebro must be piping that piss downstairs into their kegs, and I've had damn near enough of it. I'm going to fix this joint up and you don't got any excuse not to start filling up my tab." Logan pushed off of the wall he had been leaning against, cigar dangling from his fingers.
"That's that then." Logan gave a little shake like a wet dog and turned to go. "I'll tell everyone you say hey."
"Ah guess that is that." She turned from him, letting her head sag slightly. He knew where the door was, he could see himself out. Only a brief glance was given over her shoulder as he moved closer to the door. "Tell 'em whatever, Ah don't care."