A Steel Magnolia's Guide to Mutation
Chapter 8
Author's note: Yes, I realize what a bad evil person I am. I just am, and that's the way it is, so here's the overdue update, I have several to get done.
It wasn't until late afternoon before anyone realized that Rogue was missing. This seemed impossible, seeing that she had roommates, but they had grumbled and stumbled out of their beds that morning, barely even taking notice of each other. The both of them managed a perfunctory morning greeting to their missing roommate before proceeding to the packed girl's bathroom.
Sunday activity was slow around the mansion, like in all other households; it was a dragging, agonizingly dull day of the week. A few of the students got rides to the local house of worship, and the others sat around and watched the limited selection of Sunday morning programs. It was a source of a little amusement to poke fun at the tele-evangelists on channel 5.
Around dinner, which was the only meal on Sunday that everyone sat down together for, Remy noticed the lack of Rogue. He went straight to Kitty and Jubilee's side of the table.
"Notice anything?" He asked.
Kitty and Jubilee glanced around the room, and at all the participants of the meal. Immediately they froze.
"Oh my god," Kitty whispered.
"Yes, it has come to your attention that Rogue is no longer here," came a strong voice from the head of the table. All eyes were on Professor X.
"She's unharmed, and on her way to find a new place of residence. I do believe Mystique is helping her out with that right now."
"Excuse me?!" Jubilee exclaimed.
"Mystique?"
"Yes Kitty, Mystique."
Logan stood up, and started to leave the room hastily.
"I wouldn't, Logan."
"Why not?"
"Because I said she's unharmed. She will remain so."
"She should be here!"
"But she's not. Rogue is of legal age to make her own decisions, meaning she can come and go as she pleases, as saddened as I am to see her go, I will not make any moves to stop her, and neither will anybody else."
Now it was Remy's turn to stand.
"I'm not going to let some old-"
"Sit down Mr. LeBeau!" The professor rarely raised his voice, but when he did it was a fairly terrifying experience. Remy sat down.
"As I said, Rogue will come back when she sees fit, nobody will be forcing a return on her. Now, let's get back to dinner..."
Jumping forward about three months later...
Rogue had taken up residence with a young man and his older sister in a comfortable loft near Time's Square. Clarence and Louisa Tuttle fancied themselves to be punk rock musicians, taking on the names Syd and Rayvyn Redd, their band being called "Rayvyn Redd and the Screaming Jellybeans". Rogue rated them at being decent at best, and they did work very hard to give Rogue an education in the pioneers of punk.
Syd reminded Rogue of a character she had seen in a movie once. Tall and slender with ropey muscles in his arms, shocking blue eyes and black hair that he kept up in many, many spikes on the top of his head. The spikes were each tipped with crimson, in accordance to his sister's orders. His mode of dress was typical of his profession, but he did look marvelous in his beaten up worn down army boots, second hand army pants that were kept together by many safety pins, and a tight t-shirt that held the image of his hero, Bob Marley, on the front of it. His sister often told him to get rid of the shirt, but he adamantly refused.
"I don't even really like punk rock that much," he confessed to Rogue one day.
"Why are you in your sister's band then?"
"I like playing drums, but I'd rather be playing them on some exotic beach to any tune but a "Sex Pistols" cover. I'd even keep my real name. Rayvyn would hate it though."
"You want to have your own reggae band?"
"Yeah...that would be sweet. Clarence Tuttle, the king of reggae."
Rogue had to suppress a giggle at the thought of that. She knew it was mean, but she thought Clarence Tuttle was the dorkiest name she had ever heard in all of her life.
Louisa Tuttle a.k.a Rayvyn Redd was one of the most controlling women that Rogue had ever met in her life. Tall and thin like her brother, only her eyes were a steely gray, her facial features were sharper, and her hair was a fried out bleached blonde. She preferred a rockabilly vintage style, complete with swing dresses, saddle shoes, and pencil skirts. She sneered at Rogue's personal style the first time she had seen her, but liked her name. She even suggested Rogue change her last name to Redd, but she had refused politely.
"Alright dear, but the offer stands. I seriously suggest you get a wardrobe change, I have friends that come to this house, and you might frighten them."
"But, I don't see anything wrong with my clothes..."
"There's nothing extraordinary about them either. Can't you be a bit more profound?"
"They're just clothes."
"You may think so, but I know better."
"Oh."
"We'll go shopping later...and you might want to rethink the length of your hair while you're living here."
"Okay."
Rogue definitely knew that there would be tension between Rayvyn and herself. Rogue hated bitches, and Rayvyn hated not having control over everyone she met. This was the beginning of a definite disharmony. As fond of Syd as Rogue was, she just couldn't bring herself to like his sister.
Rogue soon got a job as a waitress in a seedy gentleman's club called "Cats". It was just slightly off Broadway, hence the name. Rogue planned to never ever dance at that place, she couldn't really imagine how to dance for a group of old perverts, waving money in her direction. She got that enough just being the waitress. For extra pocket change she also helped in the costume department, mending and washing the scant costumes that the girls wore during their stage time. It was a fairly good job.
In the meanwhile, Logan and Remy were conducting their own search for Rogue. Since the Professor wasn't any help, they had to rely solely on their own intellect and powers of deduction. It wasn't going so well. Plus, the two of them refused to work together on this, seeing that both of them thoroughly hated each other.
As it were, after about four months of searching, the both of them simultaneously found what they were looking for. One of Logan's friends at "Cats" informed him that a young brunette with white streaks in her hair had started working at the establishment not too long ago. It didn't please Logan much to find out she was working at a sleaze bar, he assumed she was a dancer.
Remy happened to know the Tuttles; he knew them as the Redds, and had met them after one of their shows not too long before the Halloween dance. He thought Rayvyn was a pretentious bitch, but he had liked Syd immensely. He also thought their band was rubbish. He had bumped into Syd one day during his search of the city, and Syd casually let it slip about a new female roommate who he thought was absolutely adorable, and he wanted to someday get the courage to ask her out. When Remy asked what this adorable woman looked like, Syd replied, "Real pretty, a nice little brunette with white streaks in her hair. She's always got these gloves on, which I'll never understand..."
Shortly after Syd was forced to tell Remy where Rogue was working, and in a flash, he was hurrying to save his innocent Rogue from the evils of ten-dollar lap dances.
End of Chapter
Chapter 8
Author's note: Yes, I realize what a bad evil person I am. I just am, and that's the way it is, so here's the overdue update, I have several to get done.
It wasn't until late afternoon before anyone realized that Rogue was missing. This seemed impossible, seeing that she had roommates, but they had grumbled and stumbled out of their beds that morning, barely even taking notice of each other. The both of them managed a perfunctory morning greeting to their missing roommate before proceeding to the packed girl's bathroom.
Sunday activity was slow around the mansion, like in all other households; it was a dragging, agonizingly dull day of the week. A few of the students got rides to the local house of worship, and the others sat around and watched the limited selection of Sunday morning programs. It was a source of a little amusement to poke fun at the tele-evangelists on channel 5.
Around dinner, which was the only meal on Sunday that everyone sat down together for, Remy noticed the lack of Rogue. He went straight to Kitty and Jubilee's side of the table.
"Notice anything?" He asked.
Kitty and Jubilee glanced around the room, and at all the participants of the meal. Immediately they froze.
"Oh my god," Kitty whispered.
"Yes, it has come to your attention that Rogue is no longer here," came a strong voice from the head of the table. All eyes were on Professor X.
"She's unharmed, and on her way to find a new place of residence. I do believe Mystique is helping her out with that right now."
"Excuse me?!" Jubilee exclaimed.
"Mystique?"
"Yes Kitty, Mystique."
Logan stood up, and started to leave the room hastily.
"I wouldn't, Logan."
"Why not?"
"Because I said she's unharmed. She will remain so."
"She should be here!"
"But she's not. Rogue is of legal age to make her own decisions, meaning she can come and go as she pleases, as saddened as I am to see her go, I will not make any moves to stop her, and neither will anybody else."
Now it was Remy's turn to stand.
"I'm not going to let some old-"
"Sit down Mr. LeBeau!" The professor rarely raised his voice, but when he did it was a fairly terrifying experience. Remy sat down.
"As I said, Rogue will come back when she sees fit, nobody will be forcing a return on her. Now, let's get back to dinner..."
Jumping forward about three months later...
Rogue had taken up residence with a young man and his older sister in a comfortable loft near Time's Square. Clarence and Louisa Tuttle fancied themselves to be punk rock musicians, taking on the names Syd and Rayvyn Redd, their band being called "Rayvyn Redd and the Screaming Jellybeans". Rogue rated them at being decent at best, and they did work very hard to give Rogue an education in the pioneers of punk.
Syd reminded Rogue of a character she had seen in a movie once. Tall and slender with ropey muscles in his arms, shocking blue eyes and black hair that he kept up in many, many spikes on the top of his head. The spikes were each tipped with crimson, in accordance to his sister's orders. His mode of dress was typical of his profession, but he did look marvelous in his beaten up worn down army boots, second hand army pants that were kept together by many safety pins, and a tight t-shirt that held the image of his hero, Bob Marley, on the front of it. His sister often told him to get rid of the shirt, but he adamantly refused.
"I don't even really like punk rock that much," he confessed to Rogue one day.
"Why are you in your sister's band then?"
"I like playing drums, but I'd rather be playing them on some exotic beach to any tune but a "Sex Pistols" cover. I'd even keep my real name. Rayvyn would hate it though."
"You want to have your own reggae band?"
"Yeah...that would be sweet. Clarence Tuttle, the king of reggae."
Rogue had to suppress a giggle at the thought of that. She knew it was mean, but she thought Clarence Tuttle was the dorkiest name she had ever heard in all of her life.
Louisa Tuttle a.k.a Rayvyn Redd was one of the most controlling women that Rogue had ever met in her life. Tall and thin like her brother, only her eyes were a steely gray, her facial features were sharper, and her hair was a fried out bleached blonde. She preferred a rockabilly vintage style, complete with swing dresses, saddle shoes, and pencil skirts. She sneered at Rogue's personal style the first time she had seen her, but liked her name. She even suggested Rogue change her last name to Redd, but she had refused politely.
"Alright dear, but the offer stands. I seriously suggest you get a wardrobe change, I have friends that come to this house, and you might frighten them."
"But, I don't see anything wrong with my clothes..."
"There's nothing extraordinary about them either. Can't you be a bit more profound?"
"They're just clothes."
"You may think so, but I know better."
"Oh."
"We'll go shopping later...and you might want to rethink the length of your hair while you're living here."
"Okay."
Rogue definitely knew that there would be tension between Rayvyn and herself. Rogue hated bitches, and Rayvyn hated not having control over everyone she met. This was the beginning of a definite disharmony. As fond of Syd as Rogue was, she just couldn't bring herself to like his sister.
Rogue soon got a job as a waitress in a seedy gentleman's club called "Cats". It was just slightly off Broadway, hence the name. Rogue planned to never ever dance at that place, she couldn't really imagine how to dance for a group of old perverts, waving money in her direction. She got that enough just being the waitress. For extra pocket change she also helped in the costume department, mending and washing the scant costumes that the girls wore during their stage time. It was a fairly good job.
In the meanwhile, Logan and Remy were conducting their own search for Rogue. Since the Professor wasn't any help, they had to rely solely on their own intellect and powers of deduction. It wasn't going so well. Plus, the two of them refused to work together on this, seeing that both of them thoroughly hated each other.
As it were, after about four months of searching, the both of them simultaneously found what they were looking for. One of Logan's friends at "Cats" informed him that a young brunette with white streaks in her hair had started working at the establishment not too long ago. It didn't please Logan much to find out she was working at a sleaze bar, he assumed she was a dancer.
Remy happened to know the Tuttles; he knew them as the Redds, and had met them after one of their shows not too long before the Halloween dance. He thought Rayvyn was a pretentious bitch, but he had liked Syd immensely. He also thought their band was rubbish. He had bumped into Syd one day during his search of the city, and Syd casually let it slip about a new female roommate who he thought was absolutely adorable, and he wanted to someday get the courage to ask her out. When Remy asked what this adorable woman looked like, Syd replied, "Real pretty, a nice little brunette with white streaks in her hair. She's always got these gloves on, which I'll never understand..."
Shortly after Syd was forced to tell Remy where Rogue was working, and in a flash, he was hurrying to save his innocent Rogue from the evils of ten-dollar lap dances.
End of Chapter