Sup homies? Home-skillets. My little McMuffins. My darling, darling readers whom I adore endlessly. This entire line got really ridiculous really fast, but I can't find it in myself to delete it. Eh, such is life, no? Sometimes you're gonna be compared to a McMuffin affectionately, and there's approximately jack you can do about it. You gotta put on your man-belt and deal.
Another one of our (your? my?) top stories is about Lucida Lownes, who won my super-secret review contest to see who got 200th review (Because I can.) She won a chance at any prize she could think of from me. Stories, chapters, dedications. And she chose for some *BUH DUH BAH BAH!* -PRODUCT PLACEMENT!-
But, fo' shizz now y'all, you should go check out her second-generation X-Men Evolved series, she does a lot of cool work with original characters. It's super-delicious. (Ten points if you get the cultural reference. It's okay if you don't, though. It's from a commercial. Oh, dear Lord. I just referenced a commercial for a cheap giggle. Is this what rock bottom feels like? (Because, if so, it feels a lot like 'My ass hurts from falling into the crappy river/creek at the mini-golf course and now I'm on a pain killer that makes everything seem really chill', but, I digress)) Also, in other news, my life is hilarious.
The first thing that Rogue noticed as she took her first, deep waking breath was the thick, masculine scent of spices and leather that surrounded her. Some other third aroma weaved between the thickness of the spices and leather. It wasn't something she could identify in her barely awake state. It was rich and welcoming, definitely a relief from the overwhelming smell of alcohol she had been forced to suffer through. She inhaled deeply as she snuggled in to the smell, submerging herself in the amazing aroma and the warmth that came with it.
Humming with content, she rolled over…
…right off the edge of the couch.
"Wah!" She shrieked out of surprise on her way down, hitting the ground hard in an awkwardly contorted position. "Ow…" She whined, gently rubbing where her backside had struck the hardwood floor harshest while bemoaning her bad luck. It took her a few seconds as she looked around in a dazed state to realize where exactly she was and what she had been doing all morning to earn this level of soreness throughout her entire body.
Her surroundings had changed. Nothing too drastic, just enough to inform her that the world had continued to function as she had slumbered. The early morning sunlight scattered across the floor in patches that filtered from the dirty windows.
Rogue grunted with discomfort as she stood stiffly, muscles complaining and bones creaking in protest. Sucking in a tight breath she stretched her arms high over her head until her spine cracked back into alignment and her muscles eased slightly.
Sighing with content, Rogue rolled her shoulders happily and turned to go hunt for Remy.
Something spread across the couch caught her eye.
Remy's coat? Rogue plucked the duster up off of the cushions. How on earth did that get there? She pursed her lips and inspected the coat. It was well worn, broken in. The pockets were weighed down with God-knows-what. The bottom hem was slightly ragged. It was comfortably soft against her bare fingers to the point where she was tempted to caress it in much the same fashion she might a kitten.
A ghost of a smile passed over Rogue's lips as she indulged herself, stroking the sleeve.
"What were you doing on the couch?' The questioned the coat in amusement. "I musta been asleep right on top of you." She glanced back over to the couch where she had just woken up.
The color faded from her cheeks as she finally connected the dots.
She looked with wide eyes from the couch to the coat and back again.
Hesitantly, she leaned forward and lightly sniffed the collar.
It smelled like leather, spices, and some other third thing that she couldn't quite identify. If she had to name it, it would have been 'Adventure'. Remy LeBeau smelled like leather, spices, and adventure.
And she liked it.
A rosy hue flooded her face. She was embarrassed. Mortified, even. She felt like she had taken something slightly intimate from him. Regardless of how unintentional the theft had been, she felt… awkward.
"Sorry." She whispered to the coat as she smoothed it back out on the couch cushions.
She didn't even pause to consider that Remy was the one who had thoughtfully draped the coat across her sleeping form after he had finally slipped out of the people-puzzle the two of them had been not even a half an hour ago.
She stalked in to the kitchen, hoping to God that Remy wasn't in there.
Maybe if she had been a good girl and kept up on her prayer and church-duties in times when her life wasn't in mortal peril God would have considered maybe answering her newest prayer.
As it was, no such luck.
"Mornin', chere." Remy looked up from the newspaper he had been perusing.
Bishop merely grunted out a greeting, more interested in his coffee than her entrance.
"Uh… Mornin'." She waved awkwardly, the sleeve of the shirt she had borrowed falling over her hand and flopping from side to side.
Remy frowned when he noticed.
"Well, that certainly won' do." He clucked as he stood. "We need t' get y' some clothes that fit."
"An' shoes…" Rogue gazed down at her bare feet.
Remy tapped his finger against his chin for a moment seriously before a slow grin stretched across his face. He turned to look at Bishop.
"Whatever it is- No." Bishop said without even looking up.
"I'll get outta your hair for the rest of the day." Remy bargained.
Bishop's eyes narrowed hesitantly. "What do you want?"
Remy whistled to himself contentedly as he tossed Bishop's wallet from one hand to the other. Rogue followed behind him, breathing heavily under the beating sun.
"I'm dying!" she complained, pulling at the collar of her black long-sleeved shirt. She was looking very fashionable in said black shirt, black skinny jeans, and a green pair of men's rain boots.
"Suck it up." Remy snorted over his shoulder at her.
"How do you do it?" Rogue shot a pointed look at his trench coat, which he had noticed she had developed an odd avoidance to.
"I've acclimated." He informed her with a knowing nod.
"Ack." She huffed. Remy noticed her cheeks had turned a very pretty rosy color.
"C'mon," He waved her forward. "We're almos' there."
"For your sake, we better be." She growled.
He chuckled at her as he pulled her forward into a double storied department store where they were greeted by a cool gust of air and a short, bald, well-dressed man.
"If you aren't here to change her outfit, get out." The man said as way of introduction. The name tag on his silk vest read Geoffrey, (Because spelling it normally would have been tacky) Manager. They assumed he worked there. "And, good lord, boy, if I have to stare at that hideous- what is that? A trench coat? Ug.- for a second longer than I have to I'm going to gouge my eyes out with last season's Prada shoes."
Remy and Rogue exchanged a look.
"Don't just look at each other!" Geoffrey threw his arms up in the air dramatically. "You," he pointed to Rogue. "That way. Red dress. You'll know it when you see it. It should make you look like more of a classical beauty. Very summery. And, you," He turned to Remy. "Just… God, do people still wear trench coats? It's… inhumane. You go that way. Dark red dress shirt. Black jeans. It should make you look vaguely rugged whilst still saying 'I didn't dress myself in a dark closet full of dirty, oversized clothes this morning'."
Remy and Rogue looked to each other again, both afraid to make any sudden movements.
"Would you two get moving?" Geoffrey snorted and waved them away to their respective locations. "I swear. If attractive people didn't have me to tell them what to wear, there wouldn't be any of them left." He crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his foot as he watched the couple retreat hastily. He seemed to have that affect on people.
"Why are we doing what he says?" Rogue called out from her dressing room as she slipped on the red dress she had been directed to.
"Because he's scary." Remy called back from his spot lounging in a chair that had been thoughtfully provided. He was already dressed in a spectacular looking dark red shirt and black jeans. However, the coat remained firmly in his possession.
Boredom had set in quickly after he had played three games of solitaire waiting for Rogue to change.
"Be that as it may, I can't just go runnin' around in… this." She finally stepped out into the open.
Credit where credit was due, Geoffrey knew his stuff. The bright red dress flowed around her in a swirl of happy fabric. It made her giggle just looking at it. It fell around her curves in a way that was to her best advantage, the neck line swooped low, the hem line ended high. At the same time it maintained an air of elegance.
Remy fought to keep his eyes from glazing over as he watched her twist and turn.
"Oh, if I weren't showin' so much skin…" Rogue mused as she appraised her reflection.
Remy frowned, honestly disappointed.
"Wait!" Rogue perked up suddenly, causing Remy to start before she took off back into the store, returning a few moments later with a handful of clothes. "I'll be right back!" She called as she disappeared back into the dressing room.
"I'll… wait here…" Remy slumped back into his seat.
After a few minutes of whistling aimlessly and performing card tricks for himself Rogue stepped back out, fixing a pair of black, open backed leather gloves on her hands. A light cotton button-up sweater with three quarter sleeves covered the majority of her arms and a pair of thin black tights covered her legs.
"Better?" She smiled at him when she noticed him watching her.
He didn't want to flat out say he liked the outfit better the first time around, but, considering the only way he was going to get her to go out into the world and out of this store was if she was covered up, he really had no other choice but to smile and nod encouragingly.
Rogue smiled brightly at him, face lighting up.
"Now all I need is some shoes." She scampered away, laughing lightly.
Remy groaned and collapsed backwards into the chair.
"See, that wasn't so bad." Rogue rubbed Remy's shoulder encouragingly as they walked back out on to the street because he looked shell shocked.
"It was awful." Remy shuddered, still reeling from the tongue lashing he had received from Geoffrey about his decision to not only keep the coat, but wear it outside ('You do realize people outside can see you? Well, I commend you, brave soul. Consider yourself lucky if mothers don't shield their children's eyes at your approach and cry out dramatically 'Oh god, why? I've never seen one of those things outside of an old fashioned detective movie!' I hope you swelter.)
"…No. You're right. That was awful." Rogue grimaced as well and spared a sympathetic look at the boots she had picked out. ('What are those things on your feet? Shoes? No. Shoes have style. Shoes have curves. Shoes have arch support. Those clunky things are monstrosities. You've ruined the simple beauty of the look I created! Are you invading Normandy? No? Here, poor child, take my card. When you see the errors of your ways, call me.')
"I feel… so insecure right now." Remy laughed and shook himself dramatically as he tossed their shopping bags, loaded with the clothes they had been wearing beforehand, into the garbage.
Rogue laughed with him. "For such a short, bald man, he was sure…"
"Terrifying." Remy finished for her.
"But, I must say," Rogue grinned deviously. "That shirt does make you look rugged."
"And that dress certainly makes you look like a classical beauty." Remy returned the compliment and her grin.
They fell into a companionable silence as they wandered about for a couple of minutes before Remy turned to her. "Wanna go get some breakfast?"
Rogue pretended to consider for a moment before smiling. "Why, I'd love to, Mr. LeBeau."
"It's a thankless job," Geoffrey Shults sighed to himself as he straightened his vest and picked at an invisible ball of lint on his shirt. "But somebody's got to do it." He thought back to his most recent customers, that absolutely adorable couple that had just wandered in. They had stumbled in fashion disasters, but Geoffrey felt that he had kicked them back out into the world, if not completely saved from their lives of fashion sin, better dressed.
He smiled as he thought about the two of them. She had blushed every time she had looked at him and he had practically doted on her every move. And when she laughed he closed his eyes, like he wanted to savor the sound. And when he wasn't looking, she would lean forward unconsciously and breathe him in.
They were so sweet it literally made him gag.
As he felt the door at his back open again, Geoffrey turned back around to greet his newest customers.
"I…am so appalled I just don't know where to begin." Geoffrey breathed as he looked over the two.
"Just point me in the direction of the little spider's section." Deadpool dismissed, holding on to the back of Spider-man's neck as he tried to escape.
"That way." Geoffrey pointed.
Deadpool nodded once and then dragged the struggling teenager with him in the direction Geoffrey had indicated.
"The things I put up with." He sighed significantly after the pair had wandered away.
1.I know a Geoffrey. He works at my local Nordstrom's. I swing by every once and a while for verbal harassment and fashion advice. He's made out of fear and magic.
2.I feel bad because Geoffrey wasn't a Marvel character. :c …They can have him if they want, but there was nobody I could think of to use…
the kitten is coming! Bill and Tony Stark show up at around the same time, so look forward to that.
I4.'m going on a trip! For a month! Without internet! (Le bummer.) So yeah, next Thursday I'm bailing out on you guys to roll on down to North Carolina. Getting a job, hanging out with my grandmother. All that fun stuff. So, this is going to be the last you'll hear from me for a month (longer if I die on the car trip to or back) unless I can scrounge up a computer and a coffee house. (I'm basically MacGyver when it comes to these sorts of things, so feel free to hope.)