Fragments
Voices. One should assume that after two days of constantly hearing their mocking taunts, one would have adjusted or at least have gotten used to them... Rogue hadn't. It was not as if she was actually consciously realizing they were real - in fact thinking in general was a task she had not accomplished throughout the past two days since the Witch King and thus the Wraith possessing her had vanished. No one knew where they had gone to... and Matt Rosenberg aside, it was rather likely nobody cared anyway.
She was sleeping. Or so it seemed for those watching over her in shifts. A calm sleep. The comatose state she had been in when Spike had brought her back to the Institute had not changed much save for occassional signs of life. Dramatic ones, indeed. Suddenly, her eyes would shoot open and with a jerk, she would sit up in the bed, staring wildly at some times, confused or dreamy at other occassions.
This day, however, was different. When the first rays of the awakening sun entering through the medlab's windows, they seemed to croach - slowly, threateningly - drawing ever closer to the place the southern belle was resting. Sure enough, the stopped as soon as they touched her face as if this had been their only reason for entering anyway. Well, that or the fact that her demonic guard was occupying the seat beside her.
Warm light tickled her and contrary to those days before, a faint flickering of her eyelids, a reluctant movement of those dark lashes as if a soft wind had run through them was the reply. A loud, sleepy groan followed seconds later accompanied by an irritated one as she opened her eyes. The light seemed to hurt - judging from her facial expression - but soon it seemed forgotten when her gaze wandered towards her right hand.
"What ya think yer doin' the'e, bub?!"
Rogue's eyes narrowed giving her an almost feline appearance and although there was nothing hinting on her noticing it, the bruises that had not changed, let alone healed throughout the time past, began to fade. Seconds later, they were fully gone... and to a attentive watcher, movements beneath her skin could be seen as broken bones readjusted.
Pulling her hand out of Spike's, Rogue gave a growling sound, jumped into a squatting position and shot her fist at the vampires throat. With the sound of bone rubbing bone, claws emerged from her knuckles and stopped just a few millimetres away from the neck's sensitive skin. Teeth clenched as pain shot through her body, Rogue remained in that position... waiting... healing...
"What the hell....'
she rather grumbled it to herself, her voice unusually deep.
Apparently, the seemingly endless battle inside her had a first winner.
Most worried companions would have been sent off to rest and recover, but Spike’s unique case permitted the unholy creature to remain beside his lover for as long as the timeless being desired, he wanted to stay with her, he watched endlessly while she remained so motionless, only to burst for a hopeful moment before returning to her sleeping state. Was it impossible for him to help her? To save her from the darkness.. the never ending sleeping that she has fallen into, does she know he is here? Does she know she isn’t alone, and that he’s waiting, that he was sorry, he should have saved her from the Wraiths, should have protected her from their possession… he should have given his worthless unlife to stop this from ever befalling such a wondrous woman as this. And it was these thoughts of self-blaming and helplessness that were causing the soulled creature to withdraw deeper and deeper into his protective shell, if she never woke up, he’d be alone, or if she woke up, she’d not want him around still, because he couldn’t protect her, she wouldn’t love him any more.
Talia Wagner had spent an entire shift encouraging the vampire to feed since he hadn’t eaten and his condition had started to deteriate mentally rather quickly, she had hoped feeding him might help a little both his physical condition and his mental one, she told him that he had to keep his strength up to help Rogue and that had caused him to reluctantly take a few sips from the mug all morning. Spike was slumped down over the side of Rogue’s bed, the cool hands gently holding onto Rogue’s warmer one, cradling it in his tender touch while his body shifted ever so slightly in a rocking motion, more difficult for him to do in the posture he was in, slouching over. He was so anxious, so desperate, let her wake up, let her open her eyes and see him, let her whisper to him, why wasn’t she here any more? Was it all his fault, was she staying in her sleep because there was nothing in the waking world she was willing to fight to see again? No one else was like this, she didn’t want to go back to the institute with him, he forced her back here, it was his fault she was still like this, he wasn’t sure how, just that it was all his fault.
It wasn’t until there was a faintly heard stir, Spike head lifting from where it had fallen, staring over towards the pretty face of the sleeping beauty, but unlike the stories that plague so many childhoods, a kiss did not seem to wake this lady, and yet now, a moan signaled her return to life, a groan caused Spike to become more alert to her presence. The sunlight had washed over Spike’s back, the burning hot rays seering his skin, warming his body, reducing the touch of his skin from its usual icy cold feel to simply a cool touch, gradually growing warmer as the pain of the morning light grew more intense. She was aware of her surroundings again by the looks of it, the way she stared at their joined hands caused a flicker of hope in the depths of the eyes that seems to distant and lost just moments before.
"What ya think yer doin' the'e, bub?!"
The accent and tone aside, there was also a rather aggressive expression in both her face and body language, leaving Spike with a hurt, yet rather blank expression as he stared, dropping his gaze to watch as her hand pulled free of his, he didn’t want to let go of her, he may have noticed all the unusual healing going on, yet it all meant nothing to his watchful eyes as all that was registering as important right now was her still painfully cold attitude towards him. Partially letting his lips open, as if to say something but instead watching as she leapt up into a crouching position on the bed, with his supernatural speed he ought to have been able to realize easily the oncoming attack, but his mental instability simply caused him not to react, not even a blink to show he understood the danger he was in.
Was this what she wanted? Was she so mad with him that she’d rather destroy him, end his cursed existence then have the repulsed thought of continuing to share her love with something as foul as himself? Removing his head was one of the few classical ways of destroying a vampire that still worked on Spike, though she was strong enough to punch him so hard it would at least fracture or break bones, if she had something sharp she’d so easily remove his head from his shoulders. He had to admit though, when claws came out, he was both shocked and confused, yet still he stared expectingly as he waited for her to finish him off… There was no way he wanted to continue on if she didn’t love him any more, she had showed him so many things and helped him understand so much more then he thought was possible… the world without her would just not be worth anything.
"What the hell....'
She sounded confused, looked it as well, whispering taunts flashed through Spike’s mind, he could almost hear what Angelus would say to him, hear how Dru would think this is what he deserves for having betrayed them, Willow was still alive so he could continuously have a sense of her thoughts if they were strong enough, right now all that came from her presence in his mind was blissful agony and torment.
"…I was jus’ waitin’, wasn’t doin’ anythin’, jus’ waitin’ fo’ Ro’, waitin’ for her, ‘ello Ro’," Spike stood up, seeming not to even care about the fact he had been threatened with Claws, the heat on his back was starting to steam so he inched away to the wall, hiding in the shaded area, withdrawing to the shadowy realm of the room while pulls his hands up to cover the lower art of his face. "You were sleepin’, I was jus’ waitin’, won’t bother ya, promise, jus’ waitin’, been very quiet…" His voice would have been impossible for anyone to hear except for those with the heightened senses that Wolverine and his kind have, the meaning of his whispered breaths able to be understood by her for only that reason, "Hungry Ro’? Thirsty? Let me help.. ‘m sorry for not helpin’, I’ll help now, I’ll do anythin’.." He can make up for letting her down, she has to know he didn’t mean to let her down, he didn’t mean not to protect her, he was so sorry, it was all his fault, it was all his fault for her hurting… He didn’t understand why she was acting so strangely, he just figured she was really angry with him for having gone against what she said and bringing her here with him against her will.
Re: Fragments
The aggressively alerted expression reluctantly vanished from Rogue's face as she watched the vampire stuttering apologetic words of dedication. She couldn't remember ever having met this man, his smell ever so unfamiliar and strange. Tilting her head to the side, frowning, the southern belle sniffed with a confused, yet concentrated expression. There was something animalistic to this action, letting her appear like a predator testing the air for whatever there was to be smelled.
"Yer not human,"
It was no question although one would have assumed a faint hint of doubt in this statement considering the still rather puzzled expression on the X-Woman's face. With another sound that would let some people's hair stand up, all but one of the bone claws retreated into Rogue's knuckles, leaving bloody marks that disappeared within seconds. Allowing herself to shift into a more relaxed position, the mutant slowly let her legs slide down the bed until the touched the ground. Any movement caused severe pain, yet a slightly grim expression on her beautiful features was the only hint towards it. She estimated it would take half an hour or a little more until every injury was fully healed judging from the speed with which it happened at the moment. She was surprised as of how unusually fast it went - something seemed to support her natural self-healing abilities.
Scratching her cheek with the claw she had not pulled back inwards, Rogue still kept her eyes fixed on Spike as if to solve that enigma her heightened senses were unfolding in front of her. Suddenly, the smell of blood distracted her and sniffing, searching for the source, she eventually noticed it was her own cheek bleeding. The cut healed in an instant but left an even more confused Rogue. Her claws didn't use to cause cuts when she was scratching her beard before she had awoken from that sleep... and where had those injuries come from anyway?
It was but a strange psychological phenomenon that prevented Wolverine's absorbed self, his essence that currently reigned over the absorption mutant's body and mind from realizing she looked differently. To her (or better him), he looked like he ever had... or had looked when Rogue had touched him years and years ago. Appearance aside, she actually was Logan with everything special and all too ordinary that came along with that state.
Also, the southern belle's own powers were sealed. As long as she wasn't herself, her touch was of whatever kind the ruling person's one had been, still it was but a shadow of the real being - of what he or she had been when a part of him or her had been engulfed by the one known as Rogue. There was a battle going on inside, a silent one that none of those shadows were actually aware of. It was odd, although fighting with all of what they had, there was no actual will behind it, only the urge to be that even those things that didn't really exist in the common sense of it possessed.
However, for a strange reason Hank McCoy would find interesting to investigate, their potential powers slightly increased the effect of whatever ability the shadow in power possessed thus - for example - speeding up the recovery now that Wolverine's gaze was examining the medlab.
In the meantime, Rogue -the real Rogue- was sleeping. Darkness was around all her and yet there were voices, the voices of all those she had ever stolen a part from. They were so many, the imaginary air buzzed of their voices and it was only a matter of time until she would awake finding herself an eternity away from herself.
The Rogue had become a victim of Fate, forced to face what she had inflicted on others.
Outside, the Rogue that was Wolverine had given up on trying to find out more about her vampiric watcher. Grumbling loudly, her stomach made her realize she had been sleeping for more than just a few hours.
"Say, nurse-boy...'m starvin', could ya get me somethin'?"
Although sounding a little gruffy, it was rather obvious she wasn't feeling any aggression towards Spike. To her, he seemed like the weird, contradictive guy who was mostly harmless and a bit too motherly to be taken too seriously as opponent... if at all.
Red Sun risin
Drown without inhaling
Within, the dark holds hard
Red Sun rising
Curtain fallin
Higher than hope my cure lies
Re: Fragments
ooc: *Looks up from SMS* The speech pattern is perfect!
---------
There was a rather blank expression when Spike caught the sound of sniffing, he hasn't heard Rogue trying to detect scents before.. even in his state he knew that was a little odd.
"Yer not human,"
Click. You're not Ro'. Spike stared, his own senses starting up in a struggle to figure out what was happening, a silent sniff, smelt like her, a quiet listen, sounded like her, a blank stare, looked like her.. But with a stubborn twist in his heart he knew it wasn't, something was wrong, she was her but with a twist, her voice was hers and yet it wasn't, was she still possessed? Whispers in Spike's own mind seemed to fight over the fact. She has to be. It seemed so obvious. But the Wraith is gone. A blunt statement of the utter truth. Maybe she's playing with you. There was a slight frown. Rogue wouldn't do that. She wouldn't play with me. A silence spread though his thoughts before a gentle whisper caressed the very core of his mind. Look what you did to her. Spike's eyes settled on watching as Rogue had shifted about, she was healing quickly, the claws, they looked like Arisa's, she had shown Spike her claws once when he poked fun at how someone so small like her could be a threat when he had been playfully teasing her.
...wait...
Since when did Rogue have claws? Spike stared fixatedly at the remainding one with a puzzled glare, what was it doing in his Rogue's hand? It didn't belong there... did it? Surely she couldn't have gone this long without telling him about such a gift or without him having noticed her using it..
"Say, nurse-boy...'m starvin', could ya get me somethin'?"
........Nurse-boy!? An indignant look crossed Spike's features at the odd smirk that played on his lovers lips, a rather rebellious streak hitting him for a moment as he was about to open his mouth and snap out his reply to the unusual behavor Rogue was displaying. Instead there was a growl in his throat as he stalked off, his right hand rubbing against the side of his head to show he was still suffering from the unbalanced mind, his fingers running through the now curling blond hair that was still spiked together from the gel he used but hadn't washed it out for the last couple of days.
There was some rattling and other noises as Spike grabbed at things from the small fridge and shoved other things aside, although for Spike he was angrily taking his time, due to his vampiric speed what felt like long dragging minutes ended up basically being only a minute. Beast had backed food already stored in the fridge in his office for hungry patients unable to wait for proper meal times when the nurses come around or when they aren't hungry enough to eat a large meal.
Dumping three packets of sandwiches onto a try and a bottle of water and apple juice, the only drinks there and he wasn't sure what kind of sandwich 'Rogue' wanted. He carried the tray out of the room, walking over towards the bed she had been sleeping on and putting down the tray. His eyes staring at her carefully as he stepped back, his left hand run its fingers lightly over his stomach, fiddling with the fabric of his black shirt while his other hand hovered in front of his lips.
"...Are you alright Ro'?" Her eyes.. his emerald path that always lead him safely through the darkness, the path was cloudy now, her gaze the same, yet entirely different, completely alien.
Re: Fragments
Hungrily, Rogue grabbed the sandwich, grumbling a muffled sound which could have interpreted as a sign of gratitude. The way she then started to eat had even less of womanly grace than usual which doesn’t mean she usually acted in an strongly androgynous way but still…
Suddenly, as if something had struck her odd, the southern belle looked up, some small crumbs of bread stubbornly sticking to the corners of her mouth. Chewing slower, her eyes suspiciously wandered towards Spike’s face. It seemed as if she wanted to ask something but then – with a shrug – her gaze dropped again, concentrating on the more rewarding pastime at hand.
When her hunger seemed at least mildly satisfied, she decided to stick to ripping larger parts off the sandwich she had been working on revealing wolfen canines that surely would have appeared threatening if it had not been for the loud sounds of apparently pleased munching. Wearing a busy expression, Rogue began gesturing seriously with the piece of half-smashed turkey packed between slices of bread that wobbled dangerously with every energetic wave.
”So… wha’s been happenin’ anyway?”
Getting what she had asked was more a matter of guessing than actual understanding as she didn’t care too much for swallowing for the sake of clearer pronunciation. Although she questioned the vampire in a rather casual fashion, Rogue could feel tension keeping her body alerted. There were so many things about her past she didn’t know save for occasional nightmares and flashes of memory that made even more questions pop up then they actually revealed answers to.
What had his childhood been like? Had he had any friends? How had he become part of Project X? Was anything of what he thought to know, any part of his not too recent memory real or just a fake implanted by those who had forced this – admittedly handy – adamantium skeleton onto him?
With all this uncertainty about her past, she felt strange upon being confronted with yet another mystery now – at a time when she had thought to have more control over her reminiscence, over her life in general, not used and manipulated by powers that didn’t see her as an individual but as a weapon. Judging from the mass of bruises, broken bones and other injuries she wasn’t too keen on examining though, she had been serving just as that. Knowingly or by force – that was to be found out and she hoped this slightly weird non-human whateverhewas would be of help.
Red Sun risin
Drown without inhaling
Within, the dark holds hard
Red Sun rising
Curtain fallin
Higher than hope my cure lies
Re: Fragments“So… wha’s been happenin’ anyway?” The seemingly nonchalant comment caught the vampires attention swiftly, his eyes staring over towards her and then frowning slightly as he dropped his gaze back down, what was happening, she had been hurt hadn’t she? Was everything he had been remembering even real? Maybe this wasn’t Rogue… he could just be seeing things, mixing images and memories up in his mind again, but it all felt and sounded and appeared so real. So why was she acting so peculiarly? With a silent pained expression, Spike looked over towards the doors in hope that Garnet or Storm would appear and help him figure these complicated and muddled thoughts. Storm would be able to talk with Rogue and hopefully get her to act normally again, then Rogue might actually move towards him, it would have been nicer if her arms wrapped about her instead of focusing so much on ripping apart the sandwich.
“Well… you were attacked by th’Witchking, an’ possessed… ya’ve been sleepin’ two days an.. an’ that’s ‘bout it..” There was a nervous look about him as he glanced over towards the windows and then back at her, he’s been waiting so long for her to wake and it seems now that she has he just wanted her to go back to sleep and not return unless she was herself again. He didn’t know what to do or say really in reply to any of her unusual actions and she made him feel so out of place and awkward. “You got beat up pretty bad by Belthazor..” A thought entered his fragmented mind as he wondered if she had perhaps suffered some sort of injuries because of the beating, maybe she was just recovering from all that still and she just needed a little time to get over the brutal assult.
“Did ya wonna go t’our room Ro’? We can lay down for a lil’while and you can rest there instead of stain’ in th’MedLab.” Should he move forward, or would that seem as if he’s crowding her? Should he just leave and let her eat without him pestering her… he would have adored the chance to spend a few hours just holding her body against his own and both offering and receiving comfort from the simple act. He never understood what it was like to have a relationship until he met Rogue and she completely twisted his sense of understanding on so many matters. Love being the one that has affected him the most, after all, if she had not saved him from the world he had been inhabiting, then he’d still be there, lurking about the shadows with an endless worthless feel corrupting his sanity, more beast then man as his soulless existence merely lingered like an unwanted disease.
But Rogue changed all that, she broke him free of there, she refused to allow him to hide away, to give up on what little of his life he still had, better yet, she had helped him create an entirely new one in this new world, rather poetic if he thought about it, as if the ancient poems he had scribbled down dreamily where slowly becoming real. But at times it seemed like such a struggle to keep hold of this dream they had been sharing, things tearing them apart or getting in their way or doubts which always managed to ruin a perfect nights sleep while he laid away thinking over numerous things that plagued his hectic mind.
Things had been going so well, so perfect in every sense, he had a home, a real one, not just a place where he comes to get off the street or a place to avoid demon hunters and Slayers, it was a real home where he was welcomed and wanted, and that alone was enough to have made him wanted to stay here. But on top of that he also had Rogue, and she did more then just keep his mind focused on what was real around him, she helped him grow and become more then what he was. Had it not been for her and her words and her feelings then would he still had been without a soul? He was pretty positive of that, since a great part of him only wanted it for the simple fact that he didn’t want to feel empty, he didn’t want to be dead any more, but with Rogue it was more focused on the fact he wanted not only to be worthy of her own affections, but he himself wanted to be better, not just for her, but solely for himself. He could be more then who and what he was if he tried hard enough, he just needed to have Rogue tell him that before he had been able to figure it out for himself.
Right now, her odd actions were rather off-putting, he didn’t understand why, was this a side effect of the possession that no others were suffering from, was this just all some act because he had gone against what she had said about bringing her back to the Institute with him, which would mean she was serious when she yelled at him in their room and she told him to leave… Or was something else wrong with her that – as far as he knew – was causing this odd effect in her personality?
Instead of further questioning though, he’d just try and ignore it, pretend it’ll go away, maybe she’ll act like her old self if he just waited long enough… the vampires bright eyes stared timidly towards her since he wasn’t sure if she’d get upset from his offer for them going to her room together. She had said it was theirs, and that he was welcomed there with her for as long as he wanted, and he still wanted to be there… but not if she didn’t want him, and he was confused over that fact… what did she want?
Re: Fragments“Beltha…who? What ya talkin’bout, bub?”
It was easy to recognize the real confusion behind the question. She couldn’t remember ever having heard of a person named… whatever the other had just said. The sceptical frown appearing on her features was more due to the part about being ‘possessed’ though since to her, it rather sounded like something belonging into the world of fairytales. Maybe she had just gotten it wrong though…?
“…an’ when ya say ‘possessed’… d’ya mean some mutant messed with my brain?”
The thought obviously enraged her. Why was it that so many people regarded her mind as something to play with, something to manipulate as they wished. Unable to walk without severe pain, Rogue remained where she was instead of pacing up and down or slicing something outside as she felt like. Her fingers clawed into the bed she was leaning against, she tried to remember but for some reason, she couldn’t. It wasn’t even like with some of her distant memories where there seemed to be a block keeping her from seeing what was behind. She could remember everything that had happened before she had woken up, there was no unusual break which made everything even stranger. All of this was too frustrating a thought for her to realize what Spike had said afterwards in the instant she heard it. Finally, anger lost against the almighty feeling of being lost. The delayed reaction wasn’t that different to her earlier ones, just that it had more of a blank stare when she looked up, tilting her head slightly.
“…our…room….?!”
If she had passed out just for two days, how come she had missed so much? What had happened to her room where she lived on her own? “’s Charlie run out of money or why the dorm hall thing?”
Rogue rather gnarled those words than actually pronouncing them, not believing what she had just heard. The thought that she was having a romantic relationship with Spike – naturally – didn’t occur to her who was Wolverine. It was just too far-fetched a thing for her. Still, she could have as well have slept a thousand years… there could not have been many more confusing things to have happened.
Sinking. Sinking slowly ever deeper. Deeper into the abyss that was her mind, this dark pantheon of her very own demons, Rogue was drifting. While there was a battle, almost a war going on between those closer to the surface, she swam in a sea of neglected tears, silently bore pain and forgotten fears. All that and more she had pushed into the furthest depth of her self. Keeping on, no matter what happened, no matter what obstacles life threw into her way to trip her, to let her break down and cry. Keeping on, the only way for her to get through all of this, through this life of abandonment and solitude which her powers, her past, her everything had cursed her to.
Lost in the dark, she awoke from the deep sleep her spirit had been in. Blindfold, unable to speak, she found herself in the obscurity of her own soul, a light that was covered by the ones she had robbed in her lifetime – willingly or unwillingly, where was the difference now? Whatever reason, every single one of them was one too many, one more to compete with the true Rogue, struggling to take form forever… until this mortal shape vanished.
She remembered fragments of what had happened. It was but a small part of the actual events and truth be told, Rogue was anything but certain what was real and what had been invented by her tormented mind when the pain… whoever had caused it… had made clear thinking difficult to impossible. Back in the Renaissance Hotel, she had seen no other chance of getting rid of the Wraith as to sacrifice herself to those locked shadows of her past. She didn’t know why exactly but to her, there was a difference between being controlled by another intelligence or something that didn’t really exist. Maybe it was the hope of a larger chance of defeating and thus regaining the price that was her life.
Rogue hadn’t been certain it would work – which it obviously had as far as it concerned the Wraith’s defeat – but the consequences she had been very well aware of. This was very similar to when the original Ms. Marvel had taken over decades ago and still it was different. Although it seemed impossible at the moment, the southern belle knew there was a war ahead of her. A war against this multitude of personalities that was her mind. A war she had to win if she ever wanted to return from what she had thought to be allowed to forget. Keeping on; there was still hope left, a light in the dark… right? Oh how she wished to see it, to have a glimpse at what she would give her everything for.
A prisoner in her own body, she refused to let the waves carry her wherever they wanted to and forcing her will to do something, Rogue reached out for whatever there was… just away from the crowded emptiness. Away, away… and to the light that was shining somewhere outside. There was something… someone she had to return to. Not only because he needed her, she had never been that selfless, but to ease the pain that the sole thought of never seeing his loving eyes again inflicted on her aerial form.
Yet along with the thought of the outside, there came the fear of what was happening there, what “she” was doing. Rogue knew very well it had by far not only been friends whom she had touched accidentally thus absorbing parts of their selves, no, she had used her curse as a weapon against fiends. What if one of them came to the surface before her? Juggernaut, Sabretooth, Mystique, even Magneto and so many more or less powerful beings all of which could cause havoc in the Institute, all of which could harm those she had sworn to protect. Comrades, friends, loved ones… by trying to protect them from one threat she was now exposing them to another. It had to work out somehow, it just had to! Maybe Hank would be able to help her, or Jean or the Professor as he had done earlier.
*Allow me to believe…*
Oh how she was craving for hope, how she prayed it was not just an illusionary idea to keep people from becoming insane. Or was this state she was in actually lunacy? What was real, what was not – she could not tell, she did not know. But did that matter after all? If she would return broken, Rogue knew there was someone to mend the shattered world of glass that was her mind including a rainbow’s variety of colors and more. It was just her own she wanted to let shine the brightest so that he could see… he would see… he would help… he would be at her side, giving her strength until she returned from the dark, victorious only for him… wouldn’t he?
And if there were no support from the other X-Men’s side, if they just couldn’t help, if it was up to herself to defeat the shadows of her past… then it was not their fault. They would still give their best, their love. That was something she could count on but still, it was not this which she was thinking of when trying to find thoughts that would provide her with the needed strength.
Keep on, little girl, keep on… for a new tomorrow.
Red Sun risin
Drown without inhaling
Within, the dark holds hard
Red Sun rising
Curtain fallin
Higher than hope my cure lies
Re: Fragments“Beltha…who? What ya talkin’bout, bub?” Again there was a confused expression on the vampire who stared ahead at Rogue as if she spoke in a language he was having trouble translating, but she really didn’t seem to know who Belthazor was.. maybe he had only told Garnet about the high demon? ..Bub..? She didn’t talk like that at all, he stared rather hurtfully towards her before looking away, was she just playing games? Was she really hurt? Had he done this to her because he wasn’t able to protect her? She didn’t seem to act as if there was something bothering her with his presence, other than of course she appeared to be acting as if she didn’t even know who he was. But that was worse in his mind, he’d rather her hate him and ignore him then he having caused such a horrific event to happen to her.
“…an’ when ya say ‘possessed’… d’ya mean some mutant messed with my brain?” Moving his gaze from one of the distant walls he had curled up against, cuddling in the corner out of Storm’s sight while he hungrily consumed the bag of plasma during his first few days of living here. Storm would know how to deal with unusual behaviour, she had so much practice with him, so had Garnet, even Jean, she was good with helping settle his mind.
“…our…room….?!” The way she said that made him turn his gaze back to her guiltily, maybe she was just pretending not to know him and now she was really upset that he was pushing himself back to be with her when obviously a part of her didn’t want him. Maybe she did like him, but how could she really love him, she was always having to deal with his insanity, deal with the fact he would never be a normal boyfriend, she’d never have the best while she was stuck with him, but at the same time due to her powers she couldn’t really choose any better… only able to settle with something like him for obvious reasons of his immunity to her powers.
“’s Charlie run out of money or why the dorm hall thing?” There was a blunt stare that silently watched the absorption mutant warily, was that really strong hint about him getting his own room? The weight of his body shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably while he thought over how to exactly answer that.
“..Charlie?” There was a slightly unsure look as he tried to figure out who this was, he hadn’t heard anyone call Xavier Charlie before but he did remember ‘Charles’ Xavier and so figured it out easily enough after a moment, “Rogue,” Spike moved a little towards her and tried not to seem as unstable as he was, though there was a switch in the back of his mind that was dangerously ready to flick in either direction, he just had to fight, struggle, two parts, no, there was more wasn’t there? In a sense there was three inner inhabitants of Spike’s mind, William Masters, Spike, and the now more noticeable mix-breed of the two personalities to form the newly called ‘William Spike’.
There was a serious pause in thought while his eyes tried hard to remain focused on hers, the emerald fire that just called his name and pulled him from the darkness always threatening to engulf the timid creature, all he needed to do was be brave and strong enough to ask out right if she still cared about him or if this was all some twisted way at telling him she didn’t want him around. His head dropped forward a little, his eyes momentarily staring downwards at his hands as they fiddled with the fabric of his shirt, only his eyes managing to lift apprehensively to the southern belle’s emerald gaze, almost like that of a child about to ask for something they already know they aren’t allowed to have.
“..Did ya want me t’leave ya room?” There didn’t seem to be much of a reaction in either way, she didn’t say yes she wanted him to stay, that she might want him to be with her even after all of this that he had let happen to her, being a demon of his skill and level he ought to have protected her from Belthazor’s abuse. Nor did she say she wanted him to leave her alone, which in his state he was all too ready to do since as far as he was concerned at the moment she would be better off without him hanging around her all the time and just getting in her way. The door in the background opened with the arrival of Storm, the Weather Witch helping trigger Spike’s next reaction as he dejectedly spun about and moved hurriedly towards her. His hand rose to partially cover his eyes when he walked briskly past her white haired beauty and was mumbling to himself by the time the door closed behind him and he was walking down the hall.
A Change of Guard
Something was different. Something had changed.
Rogue didn't have the faintest idea of what it was that suddenly had left a void so painful, she would have cried if her bodyless self had been able to.
The mental bond that Spike and she had built up without being aware of it, it had given her strength, had soothed her while he was at her side but now that he had stormed off, confused and irritated by Wolverine's essence whom he couldn't recognize as what it was, it seemed as if instead of drawing energy from an infinite source, she had to resort to a battery. How long it would last, Rogue could not even guess. Hours, days, weeks before she would be lost forever? The fight had just begun.
When Ororo entered to see her friend awake, she smiled broadly and postponed her search for Beast whom she had wanted to give her something against the tremendous headache she was suffering from since the Wraith had left her. Approaching, something struck her odd although she couldn't put a finger on it. Maybe it was the slightly confused look with which Rogue was watching her lover leave. Maybe it was the somehow unusual way of moving, even standing. Maybe it was the single bone claw that she had not pulled back yet.
"What...?"
Storm muttered stopping thunderstruck to give her brain some time to process her eyes' message once more and find the mistake in it. Stress, mere stress, that had to be the solution. After all, how could she expect herself to remain unharmed after two days of constant pain? She was still giving classes, prepared schedules for her team which she had been forced to slack with for due reasons and additionally, there were plans for upcoming team missions for training purposes that needed to be thought about. Difficult was an understatement for that time she was going through whilst having problems to even walk straight. Still, she would not allow her weakness to become obvious; not even her closest friends knew about it yet. She would have to tell Hank for medical help though, something she despised to do but recognized as a necessary step for recovery. It was not her urge to be heroic but rather the fear of being in the way, distracting and keeping the others from matters of higher importance. Their lives were dangerous; there were enough beings longing to see them dead and thus, a team leader couldn't allow the fighting spirit of his team to sink because of his own condition.
"Hey Ro', any clue what's happened?"
The voice sounded lower than usual and the southern accent was missing - replaced by something else, something familiar. The thought seemed far-fetched and still logical; after all, something similar had already happened earlier. Storm's tired mind refused to consider the thought any longer and proposed a much more effective method: asking. "Logan?"
The frown wrinkling the weather witch's forehead appeared almost at the same time as that on Rogue's features. "Geez, must've been one hell o'a fight if ya got troubles recognizin' me,"
was the wolvish groaled reply that was even more of an answer than the actual words. Storm could only guess what had happened - suspicions that were surprisingly close to the truth - and restrained from asking any further. If Rogue was - somehow - possessed by Wolverine's personality, anything hinting at it would be as pointless as trying to convince the real Logan of being a pink bunny sent to conquer the world.
The arrival of Garnet would have kept Storm from asking anyway. Without paying much attention to her surroundings, the ebony-haired girl entered. One side of her face was swollen and appeared even more mishaped as there was bandage covering it, yet this was the least that affected her beauty - the lack of make-up, the uncombed hair, the baggy clothing and the dark rings under her eyes all the more. Still, all of this was nothing compared to the lifeless expression on her features, if this dead mask that was her face could even be called capable of showing emotions. Her eyes, usually intense embers, they stared fixed into the direction she wanted to go to, not more; yet it was the only part in her face that showed a small sign of life inside her. Deep, deep inside, in those large, dark, sparkless pools, there was a grief that had long passed the border of mere sadness. No tear she had spilt, no sob had left her throat as if with Aran'kla, the ability to show her feelings had been cremated.
At the sight of Beast who was busy at the other end of the room - too busy to notice anything going on around him - Aurora altered her course slightly, walking past Storm and Rogue without even noticing them. A look of true sympathy followed her before Ororo turned to her old friend again who had just turned back from looking into the same direction as the weather witch. She seemed curious, yet didn't ask about it considering whatever matter there was as none of her business.
"So, do you kn-...,"
she began but stopped in the middle of the sentence, her face going fully blank. Slowly, the claw retreated, but Rogue kept on staring into nowhere; something that the windrider to become worried. Calling out her name, she tried to catch the southern belle's eyes but as they focused, it weren't hers. A threatening groal left Rogue's throat as her body shifted into an openly aggressive position, her fingers forming claws as her nails became sharper, pointier while Storm looked at them.
"From tha' close, ya look old, witch,"
It was no surprise she said those words for decades had passed since this Sabretooth had seen Storm the last time.
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