It only takes Anna about another split second to catch her wits and open up that mouth, no doubt about to fly right up my ass, and Stormy, she neatly sucks up the wind out of that sail with glittering eyes and an opening right on into the de-brief.
"Good morning, X-Men," she starts out, eyes sweeping the room, finally stopping on Anna for a second, "Rogue."
Predictably enough, everyone else turned to look too, making Anna shift irritably in her seat. She's practically chokin' on her own bad temper, keeping it to herself under all that attention, and about all she manages is a jerk of her chin and a polite smile in Stormy's direction.
Well, polite-ish, I guess. Girl wound up lookin' more like she just swallowed a waterbug instead of reuniting with any big pals.
"As most of you are now aware, Bobby, Remy, Emma, and I ran a rescue early this morning," Stormy goes on, "last night, there were twenty mutants attacked and captured, of which four are dead. The rest are here with us now, and appear to be mostly unharmed. They, along with Emma and Bobby, both of whom were seriously injured during the mission, are in the med lab with Dr. McCoy." Stormy pauses, eyes sweeping the room again. "It would appear that, despite the mutant registration bill not passing, the threat to those who took the cure is still imminent. All mutants attacked last night were cured."
Cue every pair of eyes in the room but mine and probably Logan's flying back to Anna, this time all concerned, with more than just a smidge of sympathy. She bristles up, but doesn't say anything.
"The news is currently in a tailspin over last night's attacks, with several eye-witness accounts. Unfortunately, many of these accounts are entirely false or unreliable memory recall, and most of the images and videos caught are very poor or altered." Stormy click-clacks away on her laptop, and a couple of seconds later, a video pops up on the comm screen. "This is a video submitted to the news, and the only one I've found that accurately shows what was happening last night."
She hits play, and it shows a kid getting his head cracked open on a brick wall, sagging dead and bloody to the asphalt before getting snatched up and taken off. The footage is shitty quality, taken from someone's phone, and the owner's shakin' so badly, it's little difficult on the fine details, but there ain't no mistaking it's one of those Sentinels that got him, not once you've had one of 'em breathing down your neck.
The room's quiet for a minute, then Logan growls up, "darlin', that isn't anything like what the news is throwing out at us right now. They're talkin' alien abductions and what-not." He leans his chair back on two legs, chewin' his toothpick a little harder. "That ain't no alien."
"Indeed, not. That," Stormy looks back a the screen, "is a Sentinel."
Logan nods to himself while most everyone else goes up in a little fuss, actin' like Sentinel programs starting up, getting shut down, and starting up again is something brand new. To be fair, though, the last Sentinel thing that went down and got busted up was several years ago, and most of these guys were just kids back then, too young to care or pay attention to anything goin' on in the world.
Nothing like being in a roomful of folks just this side of legal drinkin' age who don't recall big shit from eight, maybe ten years ago to make you feel old, yeah?
Stormy quietens everyone down and goes on, "Emma described these newer Sentinels as being humans, programmed with a trigger to fully transform upon sighting their targets. What we saw last night appeared to be a facility used to convert people into these Sentinels. There were sixty captives when we arrived, the twenty cured mutants, the rest humans. Some of the humans transformed during the rescue, and it was strongly suspected that the others were also converted, though inactive." Stormy's face closes in on itself, and her mouth pinches up. "All threats in that location have been neutralized, though I'm certain there are similar facilities in other locations."
"So, these rescued mutants now with us," the homme with the wings, Angel, chimes in, "clearly, they can't go back out in the world if there is the possibility of more of these Sentinels, they're still known targets. However, to let them stay here is to bring the Sentinels here, too, and I don't need to go into why that isn't ideal. What do you plan for them?"
Two points for Wings. This place, it's got lots of kids, and some of them ain't even mutants. Of course, Warren's also has a personal stake here. Him and his woman, Betsy, they got a baby in the daycare whenever they decide to breeze in States-side.
Still a dick move, tossing out folks, most of them kids, too, who likely have an asshole Sentinel they don't begin to stand a chance against, hunting them down.
"I do not plan anything for anyone," Stormy shoots back evenly, "I simply welcome those in need to stay if they so choose. You forget, we have several of our own who took the cure, two of which we rescued last night, and one sitting in here with us right now. I will not refuse her," she shoots Anna a look, "or our others assistance, nor the ones whom we do not know. The cure has already worn off four of last night's victims that we know of, possibly more; we will know more as they awaken and Hank completes his analyses, and we will let them know approximate time-frames for the return of their powers."
"Hold up, Storm," Anna finally pipes up, that sweet as all fuckin' hell accent thick and loud with agitation, "you say all that like you know for a fact all those folks' powers are coming back."
Here we go...
"Rogue, the cure was, unfortunately, a failure," Stormy answers, and I gotta give her credit, she couched it all in the easiest manner, like it ain't something that's gonna completely ruin Anna's day for a minute. "It will eventually wear off of anyone who takes it."
"Heh, unfortunate," Anna snorts out, leaning back in her chair with deceptive coolness, arms crossin' her chest. "Since y'all know so much about all this," she shoots me a sour look, "I don't suppose you know when that's gonna happen for me?"
"Rogue, perhaps a visit after-"
"How long've I got, Storm," Anna cuts her off flatly. "I figure it ain't no big secret to anyone here but me, so go on, spill it."
Stormy pauses, then begins slowly, "it has been estimated that you have a few weeks before the cure begins to gradually wear off, with you probably being at full power within three to six months. You will likely get a more accurate time-frame if you visit Dr. McCoy."
"Uh-huh." Anna works her jaw, narrowing up those eyes again. "You say you aren't planning anything for anyone, but it sure sounds like you're doin' an awful lot for a handful of folks, gatherin' 'em up like you are, and sendin' Logan after me."
"I did not send Logan after you, Rogue, though I cannot say that I am disappointed that you're here. If nothing else, you will be fully educated on your situation." Stormy don't even bat an eyelash, skirting around the truth like she just did. Most folks don't realize it, but she's every bit as good at a half truth and a head game as I ever was.
"My situation," Anna drawls out, and there's enough acid curdling that girl's tone to peel paint off the walls, "sounds like you're doing a little more than just offering a poor little ol' cured mutant some assistance. My situation sounds like a few of my plans and," she cuts me the stink-eye again, "some of my fun," back at Stormy, "are about to blow off like a puff in the wind, too. So, yeah. Unfortunate. You'll have to forgive me if I'm a mite disappointed that I'm here."
A mite disappointed, my ass...
Emma slowly moves along the burnt and blistered confines of her mind, carefully tugging and gathering ends to sear them into a spiderweb of scars across, flickering violently at the pain. She still doesn't know exactly what it was that had hit her, but whatever it was, it had left mess to clean up, and it fucking hurts.
She doesn't worry about the pain she finds along this process, though, she knows her physical self doesn't feel it, it is only her own visualization of the damage done and her expectation of how it should feel. Instead, she carries on unhurriedly, despite her underlying run of impatience. Impatience, because the quicker she patches things up, the closer she'll be to physically waking up.
And she needs to wake up. She has a to-do list that has been adding up by the minute since everything kicked off last night, and she's not yet even half done. She isn't aware of how much time has passed, as such a thing doesn't necessarily or consistently apply itself here, but she can't help but feel like she's lost too much of it already. Too much time lost is too many opportunities missed.
Still, she keeps herself calm and even, bootstrapping her mutation into a healing factor, meticulously patching up her mind-space back into health.
The rest of the de-brief is as boring as they ever are, and I quickly tune out to half an ear and give into the distraction of the woman sittin' ram-rod stiff to my right. Anna's all sulled up and tight-jawed, doin' her damned best to ignore everyone but Stormy.
Wish I could say the same for everyone else. Unfortunately, thanks to Anna's general reaction toward me, not only are the both of us pullin' all the stares from around the room, but we're getting all the whispers, too. Given our respective reputations and Anna's cured state, I know the rumors are already flyin'.
It hasn't escaped my attention the distance everyone but me and Logan's made sure is between them and her, either. Not so much physical distance, though I see the folks on the other side of Logan and me glancing over at Anna and then subconsciously leaning away. Naw, the distance, it's something I can feel, and I can see it in the looks they keep flinging her way.
Fuckin' morons, the girl's cure hasn't worn off yet, the hell are they so scared of, that pissy look all over her face?
Not to take away any credit where it's due, Anna's got a top-notch bitchface.
I let myself look her over for a second, just takin' her in. She's lookin' a lot different from how I usually see her, her hair pulled up in a ponytail, the curls a little frizzed and a lot wild, not a smudge of make up on her face, and wearing a pair ratty-ass lookin' jeans, a well worn Ol' Miss hoodie, and flip-flops. Not at all the cleaned up bombshell I was with last night. Or any night, for that matter.
I'd still like to haul her off, just as she is, to the closest flat surface and nail her so hard, she can't sit straight for a day or two.
Soon as Stormy wraps things up, people start clearing out, and Anna jumps up, one of the first to go. I almost let her go, figuring it's probably for the best to let things be, I didn't have any business messin' with her, anyway. Last split-second impulse has me hoppin' my ass up right there with her. Might as well, no? There's no good in leaving this sort of thing alone if she's back.
I catch her just out the door, hand on her arm. "Anna-"
She jerks like I just shot her, and spins on me with bright eyes blazing. "Don't you call me that. Not here. Not ever. It's Rogue. But I guess you knew that already, huh?" She doesn't give me a chance to answer, she twists her arm out of my hand and turns back down the hallway.
"Fine. Rogue," I keep after her, "and yeah, I already knew that. Think maybe you an' me, we go somewhere and talk about that, chere?"
Words said to poke the beast and bring her back from running, and damn, does it ever work.
"You asshole," she snarls, whirling back right up under my nose. "Talk! What's all this about talk? That ship done sailed, Remy, the hell even makes you think I wanna hear it now?" She demands, getting louder by the word, anger thickening up that accent even more. "I mean, ya lied to me, fucked me, then ya lied to me some more, made me think-" She cuts herself off and jabs a finger at me. "And you knew! You knew the whole time, ya-"
"Arretez, girl! Stop it!" I tell her in a low voice, catching her hand and pulling her in close so the others quickly filling up the hallway can't hear. "You wanna talk, wanna take a bite out of my ass, throw things at me, whatever, fine, let's go somewhere and do that. But not here, yeah?" Because the rubber-neckers be rubber-neckin'. Not that I personally give a damn about gossip, but she will...
She falters a bit as she realizes we have an audience, and she flings a hostile look at the others. She turns back to me, flushed red as a tomato, and jerks back, all stung. "Let go a'me," she snaps, quickly backing up. "Just leave me the hell alone, ya hear? J-just-"
I reach for her again without thinkin' about it. "Lookit, chere-"
"Don't!" She spits out, throwing her hands up and backing further out of my reach. "Don'tcha dare touch me," she hisses through clenched teeth, "and don't call me that, either, I ain'tcha chere, I ain'tcha anythi-"
"Gambit," Stormy interrupts with steel in her tone, "and Rogue," she softens way up, this big smile splitting her face as she approaches, "it is good to see you again, my friend, despite the less than ideal circumstances." She stops next to Anna, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You look so well, too, and beautiful as ever."
I swear it, I hear Anna count to ten while she pulls in that temper. "Yeah, I suppose I'm doin' alright," she finally replies, slow and strained, "and despite the circumstances," she briefly flicks hard eyes my way before looking back up at Stormy, "it's good seein' you, too."
Gotta give it to Stormy, she ain't too shabby at de-escalatin' a situation. It only takes a couple of seconds for all the on-lookers to figure out the show's over, and it's not much longer before everyone heads on out.
Of course, that might also have something to do with Logan sauntering out of the War Room like he owns the damn place, barking out a promise to kick everyone's ass in a one-on-one, blindfolded Danger Room session if they didn't get movin'. Asshole then leans against the wall, crosses his arms, and levels me one of his long, unblinking wolf stares before turning to Stormy, then Anna. "Hey, kid. Speaking of the Danger Room, looks like you could blow off some steam. How about we see how soft you've gotten since you've been gone, eh?"
Well, can't comment on how she was while an X-Man in tip-top shape, but that girl's definitely got some nice little soft spots on her now that a man can appreciate-
"Yeah, think I might do that," Anna drawls out while sliding me another look to kill, then goes back to Stormy. "I'll be seein' you, Ms. Munroe. There a good time I can stop by this afternoon, have a little chat about what all's goin' on?"
Mmm-hm, that last bit was said a little too sweetly. Anna's missed Stormy, but she ain't letting her off the hook for meddling, either.
Stormy just smiles, as unruffled as she ever is. "Yes, this afternoon is good for a visit, anytime is fine. Now, go," her smile splits as she makes a shooing motion, "the Danger Room awaits, and I do believe that Logan has missed you."
Anna nods at her, ignores me completely, and joins Logan. Watching her walk off, anger giving a little switch to her hips, I can't help but notice that for all she ain't his kid, they sure as shit seem to snap and deal with bad moods in about the same ways.
Stormy's smile goes cool as she glances my way. "I see you and Rogue already know one another? An interesting story there, no doubt."
I shrug and flash her a smile. "As interesting as any other, I suppose."
"I'm sure. Come, join me in my office. I've further work for you pertaining to last night's mission. And, while we're at it," she lifts a brow and gives a knowing look, "perhaps you could humor an old friend with an interesting story on how it is you've come to know Rogue."
Newp. Kissin' and tellin's some bad manners.
Emma blinks out for a moment, the toll of spending so long stitching the walls of her mind back together tugging at her. She steadies herself and trails fingertips and eyes along the fresh, cleaned surfaces, searching. The moment she sees what she's looking for, she grins and pokes at it.
It is one of the stars, a tiny, tell-tale pin-point of brightness that indicates the oncoming of consciousness, and she knows from experience that once the first one appears, others will soon follow, until the space is no longer flat, white walls, but diamond-bright and clear.
It feels like seconds, and then years, as the stars start popping up more and more frequently, bringing in the sound of a soft, faint buzz, and once there are enough for her to work with, she focuses on each of them, pushing and widening them, forcing more to shine in. Her irritation sharpens along with the increasing volume of the buzzing, and now, with more clarity about her, she can finally see what had happened back at the clinic. A trap... no, a defense mechanism, embedded in the Sentinel nanotech conversion...
A quick chase, an even quicker study of the attack, leaves her shaken and seething. A psychic backlash, triggered by a deep enough probe into memories, meant to kill... the efficiency of its design, the attention to fine detail...
Every mutant with any psychic talents has some form of mental protection, the greater the power and knowledge of mindscape, the more clever and effective the protection, and each individual has her own set of defenses, her own way of building them. This one is hers, and the only reason she'd survived it was because her own defenses had been so greatly enhanced by Cerebro.
She tunes out the buzz and yanks on the stars again, pulling more and more out, opening... stretching... melding them together until-
Emma gasps and her senses fly open to bright lights, the smell of antiseptics, and the sound of beeping monitors. A quick glance around shows that she's in the X-Men's med bay, and that Dr. McCoy is hurrying his way to her side.
"Emma, my dear, good to see you awake-"
"Not now, Dr. McCoy," she snaps at him, sitting up and swinging her legs over the edge of the cot. She doesn't need him, and she certainly doesn't have time for him. She quickly locates Storm, licks her lips at what she sees, and reaches out to M-
"Ms. Frost, if you will-"
She ignores him all the way out the door, slamming it in his face, and striding purposefully down the hallway, her mind still in two different places, with three different people.
Once completely caught up on the current state of things, she smiles nasty, and swings out toward a young, tragic woman, one of many warm spots in the heart of one X-Man, and one of many cold haunts to another, confirming that particular situation hasn't worsened into a waste of her time.
Not that she'd expected it to, but one never knows with vegetables.
"Train wreck number two, coming up," she murmurs to herself afterward in a sing-song lilt, making plans for a little visit to a hospital in the very near future.
"Whatcha got for me, padnat?" I ask, walking on into Stormy's office, sliding into a chair and stretching out my legs. Can't help but make a face at the ache and pop in my left knee. Damn thing's been like this ever since I had it cut open after hyper-extending it here while back, and it gets to actin' up when I sit down too long after a hard run. Healing factors are great and all, but when it's kind of a joke like mine is, bruises and paper cuts heal up fine and fast, while shit like surgery to remove cartilage still takes a while, and it never goes back up quite the same way it'd started out.
Stormy rounds her desk, sits, and flattens out her mouth as she eyes me up. "You and Rogue. I'd heard what was said."
Mmm-hm, you and everyone within a ten mile radius. "I'm sure y' did."
"Did it happen before or after I assigned you to find her?"
"Well, now, I'd say maybe you're getting a little too personal there, yeah?"
She leans over her desk a little, eyes tightening up. "Considering that your ethics, trustworthiness, and professionalism as a member of my team are being called into question over the matter, no."
I raise brows at that. "Don' sugarcoat nothin' on my account, chere. Always like to know where I'm at wit' folks, me."
Her patience snaps, and thunder cracks loud. "Do not play games, Remy, I'm in no mood for it." She slaps both hands down, and demands, "did you, or did you not, get involved with Rogue while assigned to find her?"
Involved with her? Then? Naw, I'd just fucked her a couple of times, anything more didn't happen til well after I'd wrapped things up and reported to Stormy. "Non."
She stares hard at me. "Then you approached her after?"
Well, I didn't meet her for the first time then, no. "Now, that ain't hardly a smart move, is it? Seek out the target after the stalkin'?" Stupid as hell, is what I was, followin' my dick around like I did with that girl, for reasons besides the obvious.
Her brows shoot up. "It is indeed a small world, then, that you'd have known her before." She taps her fingers on the table irritably a couple of times, then relents just a tad, "though I suppose that would explain why you weren't pleased when you'd received the assignment."
"Heh, maybe," I shrug, grinning. Stormy can't ever stay pissed at me for too long, and I can already feel it, she's about done now. "Speakin' of assignments, you'd said earlier y' got one for me, yeah? Something to do wit' last night's little shitshow?"
"Indeed." She pins me for a second with blue cat-eyes to let me know she sees what I'm doin', but is lettin' me get away with the change of subject, anyway. "Tell me what you know of a man, Sebastion Gilberti."
I shake my head. "I don't." Then I lean forward, elbows on knees, "but I can, yeah?"
It is nearly twenty minutes later, and Ororo leans back in her chair, staring thoughtfully after the man who had just left her office, her mind going over their conversation and the general events of the morning.
She knows she'd let Remy off the hook too easily in regards to his situation with Rogue. She also knows him well enough to know that he hadn't told her but maybe half the truth about any of it. His answers were likely only the tiniest scratch off the tip of whatever iceberg is between Remy LeBeau and Marie D'Ancanto.
Which is an interesting development in and of itself, and why she'd backed off of him as soon as she'd learned what she'd wanted to know.
Rogue and Gambit. She never would've imagined such a pairing. She's not at all inclined to discourage them away from each other, either, not after watching the way they'd sparked off of one another earlier. She'd known immediately that neither of them had behaved in their usual manner, with Rogue never letting anyone in, and Remy only ever trying to get it in. Not with the intensity of her reaction to him, and definitely not with the way he'd chased her.
She smiles a little, thinking of how Logan will choke on his own growls over the whole idea.
She smiles a little wider and chuckles, thinking she'll step back and let things take their course. After all, she's always been one to enjoy a good fireworks display.
