Cigarette Paper
Because nothing says Destiny like trying to kill yourself in a Hilton bathroom. Or, How I met the crazy wannabe sith-lady in my head and learnt to love that crazy Cajun. This is really not a happy story.
Warnings- Violence. Rogue cussing like a sailor. The eventual breaking of many walls, not just the fourth one. My crappy writing skills.
Notes- Yeah, was gonna be a three parter. Is now 'round 24'000 words long. I'm not even halfway.
Disclaimer- I can't even keep track of the universes anymore let alone remember all the details about the characters. That is what Wiki is for. Besides, I'd like, pay people to do this for me.
I really don't own anything.
--
On the 23rd of October, 2007, Anna Marie was supposed to fully absorb a mutant by the name of Carol Danvers, she was supposed to gain flight, she was supposed to gain invulnerability. She was supposed to gain, if not a new life, certainly a better outlook. She was supposed to trip down the stairs at Xavier's or run into her in the Danger Room or attack her in the street or something, something other than what actually happened.
Except, what happened did and instead of a blonde Carol she ends up with a brunette Cassie.
--
Fantastic Gentleman
--
And so, as Rogue finds, slitting open your wrists is not in fact a good way to kill yourself.
Apparently, there are a lot of crazy bitches with bright blue hair running around playing martyr. Well, not martyr, that means some sort of self-sacrifice and god knows those sorts never apply for jobs like that and she's pretty sure it's not 'Save an Emo Mutant Thursday' or something. Is it even Thursday? She isn't sure anymore.
Yeah, this is not going too well.
"Oh my god. Are you okay?"
"No I'm fucking not." She even points the tip of a blade at her. See all that blood? Yeah, that's how not okay she is.
"Geez, no need to be rude." My god, did she-? She did! That bitch just hair flipped!
"No need?" And then, because this was apparently not enough, she looks down at her wrists. Damn, there's a lotta blood. Seriously, j-walking like that should have killed her. "I'm sitting in a sink, in the upper-class bathroom of the Hilton trying to kill myself with a ceremonial blade because-"
And her awesome speech about the futility of living in an anti-mutant socio-political nightmare of a world is cut short by one sentence-
"Hey, you're one of those re-enactors! Is there a convention in town?"
-See, her suicide was ruined with that! After all the trouble she went to and after to make it dramatic as well! Look at those anti-mutant posters and hate slogans scrawled along the wall! She couldn't be more symbolic if she tried. The dried tears, smudged make up, black-n-red roses and bright green sundress just add a sense of flair.
"Are you stupid?"
So, yeah, not the brightest insult but what can she say, the bitch is looking at her with something disgustingly close to pity. If she'd wanted that she'd be at home on the couch watching Bobby-
'No, just, no. I did not run all the way from New York to cry like a bitch about my not-boyfriend.'
She feels like that though, like bursting into ridiculous tears about a boy she shouldn't fucking care about. Mother fucking hell this killing yourself thing is hard.
It seems Blue-girl isn't as stupid as she looks, black petticoat done up like a paedophiles wet dream. She's seen post-hardcore emo sugar, you ain't it. "Hey, well, um, you gotta leave."
Rogue drops the blade, palms her head and says-"The fuck I do." -With no small amount of contempt.
"Yeah, you do, 'cause I have something of a crisis to handle and you're kinda in the way." Blue haired chick accompanies this riveting expose on her life with immaculate hand gestures and a twangy thing that sounds like Pyro used to on a bad day. Which, you know, is unfortunate, because thoughts of Pyro swing between 'gut wrenching sadness' and 'cunt punt, bitch.'
Yeah, she's not bitter.
She's back to massaging her temples in small smooth motions, mostly wishing that the last 7 or so years could just go the fuck away, "Thanks, really, your support for my state of mental health is heart warming."
"Look, kid, I don't even know you." Aww, she sounds pissy. Look at her, all foot stomp-y and crazy with big brown eyes glaring out of a tanned face. It almost makes the projectile vomit of an outfit cute, almost, maybe if she wasn't being so annoying.
"Names Rogue." And why the hell not, she plans to be dead real damn soon. The motto for her funeral will be 'The More The Merrier 'Cause All Of You With The Possible Exception Of Scott Because He's Dead And That's Rude Contributed To This In Some Way'
Take it bitches
She looks stumped. "Ah, I'm Cassie, but you gotta scoot 'cause things are going to get really damn ugly in here so..."
"I can handle myself." She tries to do that thing, you know? The one Logan's so good at, looking like he's a million times bigger than he really is. Cassie, for her part, just looks vaguely amused.
"No offense, but you're like uber weak looking." Cassie, the bitch, is smiling like she knows something Rogue just doesn't. She's only meet two people who can pull off that smile. One of them lives in her head, the other, well, the other one isn't worth thinking about anymore, 6 feet under mentally and all.
"And you're defenceless." She tries to make it sound offensive, to make her seem tougher but it ends with a super pitch squeak and adefensive sniffle.
"Honey," she articulates as she flips her mop of a hairdo in one direction, "as long as someone's trying to attack me I'm never defenceless."
Okay, this speaks of either a mutation or some really kickass ninja bodyguards. Either way it would be fun to watch.
"Sugar," Rogue says, same tone, same amount of condescension, "I've been in more fights in the last three weeks than most thugs in a bad year." Then she does that smile that Dr Grey –Jean- used to do. All flash and smirk till bam you turn into a super powered mutant ready to level a city.
She'd liked Jean she never let her personal opinion of her seep through the cracks in her mind when she'd absorbed her.
"Fine, just shut up and don't move. Don't make any sound, don't even breathe if it's not completely necessary."
"Well considering that its one of the few things I'm going to have to do since someone gate crashed my suicide..." She says, layering her voice with acid as one would cream on a banana float.
She must be annoying her by now, in a few seconds, this Cassie chick is going to walk out that door, Rogue is going to die and a lot of people are going to feel guilty. Hopefully, it would kinda suck if they didn't even give a damn.
But Cassie's still standing, one hip against the pink door, one arm spread across the doorway. She's looking at her like she's something she'd like to lick off the floor. Which, actually, now she looks again, Logan-her- the part that is Logan. His personality inside her prods her toward a realisation-
Huh, lesbian, who'd a thunk?
She's not disturbed, she couldn't be and not for the reason everyone's probably thinking. She isn't gay. Maybe. Hard to tell with her not being able to touch and all. By the time she'd realised that if she was going to hell it'd be because of her DNA not because of what she chose to have sex with, she was wearing full length bodysuits and complaining about opera gloves.
She's not disturbed because she gets it. She totally gets it. Having everyone prosecute you for something you have absolutely no control over, being kicked out of places you have every right to be. Even being denied children because the system just does not work like that. She gets that.
"Yeah, well, if you keep being this loud, it ain't gonna be much of a problem, trust me." Cassie says and looks at her watch, taps it thoughtfully, "Just shut up okay, if you can stay quiet for like fifteen minutes we can get her done and you can go kill yourself in someone else's workplace."
Okay, what? Is this opposite day or something? A mutant killing themselves in the bathroom of the Hilton and she acts like it's a daily thing. Like it doesn't even put a cog in her plans. Damn, that's some lack of consideration for collateral damage.
Why the fuck is she here anyway. Workplace? Who has work here?
But she's tired, damn tired and if shutting up and taking it like a man for fifteen minutes means she can off herself afterwards, well, she's gotta prioritise right?
"Love you too, sugar." And as she falls back against the toilet, Cassie walks out muttering about muties.
But what does she care? She's pretty much dead and buried by now.
--
"Now boys, what can I do for you this fine evening?"
Augh, what is that god awful stench?
Rogue rolls awake, she must have been out for a couple of minutes. Even with Logan stitching her back together it takes her much longer than it would him to replicate blood tissue.
"Give us the money, doll. We have places to be see. Places to be."
'Oh god, he does know this isn't a shitty eighties cartoon right?'
"Oh dear god, tell me he isn't serious?"
Hmm, maybe this Cassie chick isn't as bad as she thought. She feels movement along the floor, the Logan in her wants to unsheathe his claws while the Erik part wants to wind metal around the new smell of gunpowder and bad cologne.
Both agree this was a shit stupid idea.
Neither part is willing to chance telling her though, even with her increased usage and understanding of their powers over the last month or so, she still controls both of them with an iron will.
"He's not, unfortunately I am." The smell increases and the clack of leather bound shoes on marble floor makes Logan even more on edge. He doesn't settle down as more clacks step toward her. "We don't like being sold out and unless you get some sort of miraculous face exchange in the next eight hours, you will be the most wanted mutant on the face of the planet. Not even Magneto's underground ring could save you."
At the mention of his name, Erik her listens in a little more, pulling screws in the toilet seat toward her. She stops concentrating on Erik for one second, just to hear Cassie's reply a bit better and his control over her and her new powers breaks.
One metal nut falls to the floor
Just before it hits the ground though, giving her away and possibly getting her killed –she's not adverse to the dying bit, just the 'not my way' bit- Cassies voice rushes in-
"I...see, that's a real bummer ain't it? Well, we have a teensy problem with the money. It's um, still being properly dried and pressed if you catch my drift."
If she closes her eyes right now, she bets she could see their faces. Surprise and mild panic mingling with pure fury. If she closes her eyes right now, she knows that when she opens them someone will be dead. In all likelihood it'd be Cassie. Shame, now that she's not looking at her she seemed kinda cool. Seems. Still breathing. For now at least.
Just when did she get this uncaring about the living anyway?
"They haven't finished laundering it yet?" It must be Bumpkin one, the one who'd tried the accent before, only he'd say something that obvious, fuck, she only has half a clue about any of this shit and she can still tell when to shut up.
Cassie sighs into her –hand, it would be hand, Logan says the sound is right- annoyed, "Yes dear Watson, let's just have out with it, afterall we can never be too sure who's listening can we? Afterall, the walls don't have ears dear Watson." Cassie is condescending, 'eat shit you moron' practically inscribed in her tone.
Nervous shuffling on the floor, re-distribution of weight, Erik says they're packing fireworks, he can smell the gunmetal.
She'd never even thought about metal having a smell till him.
"Eh...yes, Louie you scanned the place right?"
"All clean, boss."
And Rogue almost feels sorry for them, it must be hard being so stupid.
"Seriously, make him stop."
There's a ca'chink and a ca-thunk here, like a semi-auto and a hand gun being loaded. According to Logan, if these guys are who he thinks they are, they'd have killed Cassie ages ago.
And her, but she assumes her death is implied.
"Miss Cassie, I really don't think you want to get in the way of me and my money. Things could get real unfriendly in here." Another gun-sound, one Cassie definitely can't hear. According to Logan, it's the sound of plastic being slid along a metal tube, Erik agrees.
But the smell hits the air before she can process what they already know now.
Cure guns.
Okay, recap for the handicap that wasn't paying attention, the cure is semi-permanent. DNA regrow's and adapts; a cure for anything purely genetic is impossible. It worked for 8 months on her, 8 long glorious months of cut offs and inappropriate underwear. But the comeback is killer, apparently the cure is addictive, once you've had your first try your body is hooked, Rogue had two more shots of the stuff before Bobby caught on and pulled her off. After the first shot, not only is it addictive but the affects last shorter and shorter periods of time. Eventually, it only lasts for hours, then, of course, you die. Why? Apparently genetic fuck-ery is a bad thing, who knew?
Not her DNA apparently
But that didn't mean that the government wanted to stop using it, oh no, it was the perfect weapon now.
They remarketed it as a club drug, mixed it with Acid. Originally it was WONDERland but some other corporation got up their hackles about it.
So it became Kick.
"Is that-? Is that the cure? You actually expect the cure to work on me?" Cassie's voice pitches between rage and anxiety, Logan says that she's afraid of being spiked by one, Erik wants to smash things. "Listen up boys, listen good, and hell, go tell all your dick-muncher friends. The cure is temporary. It only works for two months and should, heaven forbid, should you hit me with it I can assure you that all hell will break loose in this bathroom."
For most mutants now being threatened with the cure is like threatening a non-mutant with a gunshot to the face. Not very polite and not easy to recover from.
"Fine, perhaps you can pay us some other way."
And just like that he drops his daks, she can't tell where he is in the bathroom just that Cassie is nowhere near him and Erik's old fashioned sensibilities are making him nigh impossible to control. Goody gumdrops for her.
Cassie recovers from the threat admirably, she claps her hands lightly and continues in a voice that says 'bite me, bitch' "Boys, I thought we'd been over this. I don't swing that way. Seriously, one step and I'll castrate you." If it weren't for the fine tremor at the end of 'carstrate' she could've bluffed her way straight through.
Accent man isn't smart enough to notice.
"You still got one though right, no tranny dick waiting for me down there?"
Cassie snorts, says "Trust me, that's the last thing I want down there." She rustles her hands around like she's taking off her clothes. God, Rogue didn't want to hear this, "Well, fine, maybe I can make an exception just this once but boys, I'm going to need some encouragement." It was meant to be suggestive, really.
"Then find a playboy, shouldn't be too hard."
"Hardy-har-har but I'm afraid that until you place the ducky on the counter I can't oblige you."
The who on the what? Worst secret code ever.
"It's on the counter."
"Make it legit."
"The Owl Spreads Death At-Rio On The Stately Hour."
"TOSDA-TROTSH"
Once she gets her chin off the floor at this butchering of her native language she'd like to re-iterate- Worst code ev-ah.
"Yes, can we get a move on?"
"Yep"
A moment of silence here as both of the men kick away superfluous clothes, which is pretty much anything. There's a little groan and a creak from the stall next to her and a tango of feet shuffle into it. Cassie's neon boots slide apart over the toilet and just when Rogues shutting her eyes, hands over ears hoping that she doesn't have to hear this, Erik explodes.
In milliseconds, in a space of time smaller than that, every ounce of her considerable will power is forcing itself around every metal thing in the room; it's like a huge conduit. The magnetic force in her mind ignites and the second she pulls one thing everything wants to come. And everything does, because this is Magneto and as far as he is concerned no mortal man shall ever defile a mutant woman, not if he wants his balls intact.
See, he doesn't care if you get killed, only if you get raped. Comforting.
Truthfully, it's nothing. If nothing suddenly means everything and everything is the standing equivalent to 'OMG the world is going to end if I don't move that bitch metal, right now' then yeah, ripping apart a Hilton bathroom is totally nothing.
The walls rip apart and the ceiling lights are falling and suddenly Rogue's exposed but not in any danger because these are her boys and without them she is nothing and they won't let her be nothing.
When she see's Cassie's face things get a little reprioritised. See, Logan knows she's scared, Erik knows she's angry. Marie knows she's outta control.
And she knows because she's seen that look on her face far too often.
So, Rogue's half crazy now, both of her boys are fighting to be on top and the stuff she Kicked early is making her hazier by the second. So, she's half crazy and strung out and hey, doesn't forming giant metal machete's for Logan her to use seem like a fantastic idea?
So she does and takes one moment to look at herself in the mirror. Covered in dried blood holding a machete, unwashed hair leaping around in tangles, rumpled green sundress hiked up to show thigh high leather boots (we don't talk about the kink boots, we just don't) grinning like all hell, and yes, that surge does mean that's she's sporting bone claws.
Sexy
Cassie takes their gasp and –Logan says lust and that's so fucking wrong she cannot begin to describe- momentary stun as a chance to blow up her powers. Suddenly her hands are knives and she's slashed accent guy so his head peels away in half. In another lunge she has the boss man, standing behind accent guy pinned to the wall. He pushes her and slams the butt of his gun in her face, spinning around and aiming the gun for Rogue's head.
Fortunately -for them, he is all kinds of fucked now- he's in a panic, otherwise he may have realised that a) his back was to a woman with glowing hands who wanted his dick sautéed in French onion sauce and that b) he was trying to shoot a woman with the master of magnetism in her head who, right now, had abso-fucking-lutely no control over him. And he too wanted his dick sautéed.
No onions, makes him gassy.
Boss man stares at him and Cassie smiles lifting one neon blue tipped finger.
"Buh bye, now."
Boss mans eyes widen, face pales, sheer terror takes over, "No, no, no, please, no-!"
Too late, Cassie's finger slashes in an X and a bright bloom appears over his crotch. He goes down screaming and in an act of what Logan calls mercy and Erik calls a great way to get rid the gene pool of vermin she reaches out one pulsing hand and-and-
Opens his chest wide enough to reach in and tug out his heart.
Her hand closes around the organ and for one brief second he seems to be in so much pain that Rogue almost wants to-
Then his blood is all over her and both of her boys are silent.
This wasn't what was meant to happen.
Cassie steps over the dead bodies and clucks her tongue. She nudges half of Accent man's head and watches the goo and blood ooze out, head cocked to the side, curiosity out in full force. Rogue feels the first pull and then the second hitch and then she feels the sudden urgent need to get to that toilet bowl.
Cassie, ever loving bitch that she is, pats her on the back.
"You make a great distraction"
Thanks, that doesn't help at all
"There's so much blood." She moans. Puke dripping on her sundress, she stands back up and looks Cassie in the eyes, puke dribble and all.
"Yeah, if they hadn't had so much in their dicks who knows what would've happened?" Cassie flex's her fingers and the world stops for a moment. The glow that was around her hands spreads into a fine dust sliding around the entire room and re-ordering it.
It's beautiful
But not enough to cover up what she just saw.
"You castrated him."
And then ripped his heart out
"Yep," she says as she picks a piece of gore from her hair, "I don't make idle threats honey. Shouldn't you be freaking out more?" she leads a hand toward the door and Rogue, now firmly stuck in survival mode, steps behind Cassie and nods.
And now they're moving toward the door.
"About?"
Through the door descending stairs, walking past people, chatting about...
"The two dead bodies in a bathroom you just tried to top yourself in."
...yeah, that.
A clue on the board please
"Yes, well, I'm running away from a crime scene with a blue haired chick, who I've known for less than half an hour and yet has somehow involved me with...the mafia right?" she says, breezily, like shit like this happens every day.
Mostly does, actually
Staccato steps, elevator plus music, nod to the doorman, wink at the cute valet –decidedly female. Full stop at the crossing, hand on shoulder, Cassie says "Mmm, close as you could guess probably."
It's been a freaking long pause, Cassie dearest, do you want the story now?
"After she" Where was she? "'stopped me topping myself' in a fake cult ritual to emphasise the horror of the socio-political condition -don't ask it sounded good when I was high." She holds up a hand to emphasise the no-asking bit. "I've been on the run from my amnesiac, psychotic Not-Father for three weeks, I haven't had a shower in around 3 days and you should probably let go of my shoulder 'cause although the Kick temporarily shorts out my powers you do not wanna be here when they come back."
This is a cue for her to get lost. Instead, like most people she makes the stupid choice to say-
"I think I love you."
-And shimmy closer
Sure, why not, 'cause that's ended so fucking well for everyone else.
"Yes, a lot of people have said that."
They walk in silence. Marie because, oh fuck, how does she get out now she's seen that and Cassie because, god, she's retarded or something. So, Cassie leads in huge neon blue strides and Rogue follows pepping the sidewalk with light kink-heel taps until they turn a corner. She's not sure which corner, just that there was one back there that changed into this
The Underground
Made up of sleazy gangs, neon sex signs, hobo's and really good Chinese food
"So, why's a cookie cutter like you this far into the Underground." Cassie turns full heel on her, whips out a cigarette packet, throws one at her. Rogue, entirely too use to smoking finds a scrap of Pyro, walks over to a nearby fire bin thing and lazily traces her fingers through the flames, she drags the fire with her into the middle of the street and lights up.
There's a moment, when you look at the world and go, 'oh, this is where I am'
That's this moment
To clarify, the street is small, dirty, deserted except for people losing souls and money or those too lost to care. Neon is the colour of the moment, flashing Argon genitalia and XXX signs, dope –good quality, let it not be said she wasted those three weeks on the streets- selling on ever available surface and a good number of first time buyers wasting their money.
In a way, a screwed up one, it's beautiful
Damn she's morbid
"Dumb luck and an insane voice that vehemently denies that this is the right way to go." She takes a drag, Logan hates it, she stubs it out on her glove.
"Oh-kay." Cassie says, she starts walking, Rogue follows, Cassie turns, she stops. "Look, there's a meeting I gotta bounce to if you could- Oh fuck." The last bit comes out more like ohfack.
"What." Rogue turns around on the spot, looking for something amiss.
"He wasn't meant to be here." Cassie says, voice freaked. She looks at her, grabs her wrist and tugs her into her line of view.
"Who?" She's still missing the point. "Who the hell do you see?"
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..."
"Who?"
"Him!"
Oh, and now it's clear.
Flame hair, lighter, million dollar smile, psychotic eyebrows, memories she wishes she never had of him
"Pyro..."
Quick fact, when she first got to Xavier's she was pretty sure she'd fall in love with John.
Yep, Bobby would hate that.
But she was never his first choice anyway
See, Bobby had been cute and kind and just like Cody –who she misses by the way, like, a lot- when John had been hidden and sarcastic and damn crazy and no, the bad boy thing is not a complex.
It's just something she knows
It's something she can relate to
"You know the kid huh?" Cassie says, omniscient, god, will she ever get away from these people? "Anyway could you distract him while I run away?"
Eh, no, considering last time she saw him she was trying pretty damn hard to kill him. Well, stop him killing
For both of them, this is the same thing
And, what, it's been an hour since she met this bitch?
No
"What? Why should I?"
"Please. I saved you from the mafia." Cassie begs, pout and all.
So, Rogue looks at Pyro again. He's burning stuff up, he doesn't care who he's looking at.
He wouldn't even know her
" I'd be dead right now if you hadn't stopped me." Rogue answers finally
"Is that any way to treat a new friend?" Cassie's pouting more, Rogue rolls her eyes, does it look like she cares? "Not friends? Fine, is that any way to treat a fellow mutant?" Ah, but there logic falls away.
Damn Xavier for his morals. Damn her for caring.
"Fine, give me two minutes."
"Why?"
"Two. Minutes."
Rogue takes up a kneeling position on the ground. Hands sliding onto knees sliding on to the pavement covered in shit. She closes her eyes and waits.
"Oh-kay, oh-kay, geez what are you in withdrawal or something?" Cassie's asking, sounding impatient, the sound of Pyro is coming closer. The sound of burning is almost touchable. Rogue crawls into herself and finds the release button on the Kick. For a moment, everything spins sideways and she rolls onto the ground. For a moment, everything in her head screams and that tiny piece of self preservation claws its way through her mind desperate for a scrap of Kick to make the pain go away.
When Rogue moans, Cassie catches on, "Oh, shit you are. Um, you should get in like, the recovery position or something."
"Oh god, I hope you have an off switch."
"Thanks bitch, nice to meet you too." She 'humphs' here and flicks her head again.
The part of her that wants to crawl inside a dose of Kick and die snaps back. It is time to inflict some horrific damage on something. On the inside, Rogue smiles, on the outside she grimaces because she knows, as well as she knows anything post-withdrawal, that the only reason she can get up is because her body wants more Kick. Her mind wants more Kick and will do anything to get it.
Anything
"Urgh, alright I'm good to go."
She stands again, rolls her shoulders and exhales. She gets the muscles in her legs worked up and stands twirling her head on her shoulders.
"Are you meant to recover that fast?" Cassie asks
She stares at Cassie for a moment, placing her in this haze of post-Kick and finds, murderer, crazy bitch as a definition. Crazy sith-lady. Have followed to strange Underground street for some reason. Am insane. Cannot seem to rectify.
"I have super metabolism, sugar. Side affect of genetic fuckery."
She leans forward on one leg, stretches and takes a running leap toward Pyro. He doesn't see her coming and the last thing she sees before the gulf of voices and powers takes over is Cassie, cigarette in mouth saying-
"I hear that."
-as she promptly runs in the opposite direction
-
Pyro is kicking the ever loving shit out of her
He's standing at one end of what used to be street, while she stands in front of a group of people, protecting them and herself. Pyro launches yet another round of successful attacks. People run, scream and generally make a nuisance of themselves. She saves them from a slow horrible death. Principles, she had to go and get principles.
Damn you to the seventh level of hell Xavier.
"Burn up, baby! BURN UP!" he sends another flame ball at her, twisting it into a lions face, claws reaching for her. She responds by covering herself in metal and throwing every available piece of rubble at him. Trust her, there's a lot of debris lying around.
"Shut up!" she yells, one huge hunk that might, at some point have been a kitchen flies toward him.
He lights it on fire.
Rogue groans and rolls under another flaming piece of junk. She calls on Bobby, always sluggish at the back of her head in his assigned corner, forming giant mallets of ice with the same grace he once carved a rose-
Carved a heart, carved a moment, carved out her soul-
-and hands them to Jean and her telekinesis. She holds them in the air, the juggle between that part of her and this power taking her concentration away from the fight. Luckily, the next projectile is metal and Erik being the largest part of her...
Well, it doesn't pose a challenge.
She holds one hand in the air, keeping the machetes from melting and from dropping, extending the other toward Pyro and squishing the metal before the fire even has the chance to wave at her. She throws the machetes afterward, one by one, making more as she throws. Pyro, looking bored, simply melts them.
Right. Well. Fire trumps Ice then.
She's getting further and further backed into a corner. The metal is heating up too much now; it feels like he's cooking her. She lets it slide off. Swapping to intangibility.
Pyro's face weird's up the first time something goes through her. Then he switches to mechanical rage.
Suddenly, it's not the heat she has to worry about but the reckless anger.
Salvation, in the form of a black petticoat comes.
Cassie leaps from a building Kamikaze yelling and swinging a huge...lasso
A lasso
She's holding a black shiny lasso
Which she uses to tie up Pyro's arms
A lasso
Rogues disbelief is reaching epic proportions.
From the other end of the street Rogue can't hear what Cassie whispers along the shell of his ears. She can see, however, his reflexive turn to her and the blank recognition in his eyes. For her. His recognition of her. His eyes shutter closed and a warm breath of wind seeps from him. Cassie backs away, turns, smiles at her, disappears again. Rogue almost yells out. Almost. But the steady roll of heat forces her powers to activate and her skin to tingle with cold.
Just as she 'Ices up' Pyro goes supernova, taking out what was left of a building.
--
"Holy crap you ripped the building balls out."
She's doubled over panting. Hand on her stomach trying to breath from her diaphragm to avoid the broken rib on the left side.
"He set it on fire. I had to cool it down. I didn't 'rip its balls out' I just iced it" she stops, wipes blood from her lips, "He set it on fire."
"Yeah, it was pretty cool." She says wistfully, Rogue has 'What the fuck? He set it on fire you crazy bitch' written in huge gold letters across her face, "What a girl can dream can't she?"
"Why did you come back?"
This referring to Cassie's magnificent turnaround from 'Traitorous whore' back to 'Eh, crazy chick.'
"Dunno. Misplaced sense of duty?"
Cassie steps forward and Rogue falls in step. Somewhere, sometime, she stopped following Cassie. They walk through a maze of people and out into the sunlight grinning like idiots.
"Just leave it at misplaced sense."
One street away, two men attempt to get a piano through a window.
"Ouch, honey, stings."
The piano swings as Rogue smiles and lets her tension go inch by inch. They move toward a shadow, steadily, until they're so close to being under it's electrifying.
"Oh yeah, I burned you."
10 metres
"Ow, why are we laughing?"
7 metres
"Because, we aren't dead."
5 metres
"Watch it Paul, gotta get it in the window!"
3
"Crap!"
2
"Not again Paul."
1
"Is that?"
Dead zone
And, so fast neither of them stop think about it –what it could mean, what it could do- they leap together and the piano falls, falls, falls on top of them.
"Yep."
They crash together so close faces get mixed up and there is a tongue here and a lip there and a kiss, her first true kiss-
They're touching
"Just makes your day doesn't it."
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