Dismal Angel 2010 - Episode 2
Chapter 1: Cold Shoulder
Kitty Pryde started down the steep hill towards the lake on the Xavier estate, her short hair windswept, her eyes slightly watering from a cold December chill that pushed against her. She tugged the collar of her aviator jacket up a little so that the sheepskin lining brushed her cheeks, and she continued her brisk walk. The wind whistled madly around her, and as she approached the small pier, she could hear the water violently lapping at the support pillars, some of the water even sprayed upon the old badly splintered wood.
Remy LeBeau stood at the very edge of the pier looking down into the water, a cigarette in one hand, a can of Budweiser in the other, his long hair brown hair - which was almost long enough to touch the top of his belt – whipping around his back in a furious pulses.
"Hi," Kitty said, her voice revealing how cold she felt just by its quiver, "cold out, huh?"
Remy didn't answer, nor did he turn to look at her, his back remained facing her, the can still dangling from his slender tan fingers.
"Logan said he saw you down here," Kitty admitted, "Just thought I'd check up on you…" she said, she thrust her hands deep into her pockets, fingers almost numb, her teeth gave an audible chitter.
Remy glanced slightly over his shoulder, only for a split second, he put his cigarette to his mouth, withdrew it, and Kitty watched as smoke rose into the air and dispersed as quickly as it had appeared.
"You just gonna stand there all broody and silent?" Kitty asked, she looked down to her feet, studying her scuffed leather boots with mild interest. She hated one way conversations, and this was about as awkward as one could be. It had been three days since Remy LeBeau had been confirmed innocent – for there had been much suspicion surrounding Jared Rickman's death and it had all involved him.
"What'd y' expect me to say, petit?" Remy finally turned towards her, flicking the stub of his cigarette away carelessly to the left into the lake water.
Kitty gave an expression of disgust, she wasn't appreciative of his polluting the lake on the estate, she wasn't appreciative of his calling her 'petit' at every opportunity reminding her of just how little she'd grown in seven years, and she definitely didn't appreciate his attitude towards her anymore.
"I don't know what I expect you to say," Kitty admitted honestly, "but I'd just expect more from you than the cold shoulder and a rubber ear," she shivered against the cold, the temperature seemed to be decreasing rapidly.
Remy smirked a little, "you think I should just be all happy-go-lightly just because I'm off the hook?" he asked, the smirk faded, and his eyes became rather cold.
Kitty looked to the floor guiltily, "Not really," she confessed, hands deep in her pockets still, she raised her shoulders up against the cold, and she glanced to Remy wondering how he could stand out here in such temperatures without even wearing a jacket, without being as affected by the cold as she was. "Aren't you cold?"
Remy gave a shrug, "don't exactly own a jacket here in Bayville, y'know. All my stuff is back in Illinois," his voice slightly slurred.
Kitty looked up at him, "we are sorry you know…" she trailed off, she tried to read the emotion in his face, but he wasn't letting any show, he'd become very flippant and even more presumptuous than she'd remembered him being, she supposed a lot might have happened in the last seven years that had caused him to change – and not for the better.
"You're the only one who seems to be admittin' it," Remy remarked bitterly, "save your apologies for someone who gives a shit though. I couldn't care less if any of you think I'm a murderer, or a thief, or just a prick who plays wit' peoples emotions," he took a swig from the can, it was only then that Kitty realised how drunk he was, she took note of a few empty Budweiser cans bobbing up and down in the water, she hadn't noticed before.
"Remy…even when we first brought you in I still felt like I was almost obligated to believe you…I still felt you were my friend."
"Obligated," Remy repeated the word dully, "what's that word mean?"
Kitty opened her mouth to answer, but Remy spoke again before she could.
"I'll tell you what it means…it means forced. You felt like you were almost forced to believe me, that's what you're saying. Not because you wanted to but because you felt forced," he looked at her, "you didn't though, did you?"
Kitty swallowed, "Remy…I did have doubts…really…I mean how could anyone really suspect you of killing someone in cold blood?"
"Save it," Remy turned away from her again, he swilled the rest of his Budweiser, and tossed the empty can into the lake to join the others, he then spun back around and passed by her, the boards of the small narrow pier creaking under his feet as he wandered off.
Kitty sighed, feeling the guilt overwhelm her, she hadn't been a very good friend, and she'd only just come to realise it.
Rogue thrust her fist against the punchbag furiously, she let out a huff in effort, she spun around and swung her leg and kicked at it, her hair clung to her head with sweat, her tanktop was clinging to her back, and her face was soaked.
"Really, Rogue…" Bobby Drake was sitting upon a pile of exercise mats, the two of them were in the gymnasium in the basement of the mansion, Bobby was sitting in black shorts and a white tanktop, a fluffy white towel hanging around his neck, his dark blonde hair slightly tinged with perspiration, "don't you think you've hit that punchbag enough?" he'd been watching her for the last hour swinging and kicking at the punchbag as if it were her worst enemy.
Normally for Bobby, watching Rogue work out could be one of the most fascinating experiences of a man's day. The heave of her ample bosom, the swing of her shapely hips and the flex of her powerful thighs was enough to set the hearts of most men racing to a lustful fervour, and Rogue always seemed to be completely unaware of the attention she could draw.
Today however, Rogue looked less than attractive as her ponytail had become loose, her hair stuck out at weird angles, stray wisps stuck to her sweaty forehead and cheeks, her face was red and her expression extremely frustrated. And it was less than appealing today that she was beating the pulp out of punchbag that was hanging haphazardly from a chain fixed to the ceiling.
"Would you rather I hit you?" Rogue queried in a harsh tone, she didn't stop, thrusting out at the bag with a right hook, then a left, a right, a left again, she swung and kicked again. The punchbag came down, pulling down a large part of the ceiling concrete ceiling with it.
Bobby glanced up at the ceiling and swallowed nervously, "uhm…pass," he said, getting up and leaving quicker than Rogue could try and apologise for snapping at him unnecessarily. Rogue sighed, grabbed her towel from where she'd left it folded, and patted her face dry.
Moments later, Logan appeared, his small stocky stature stood framed in the doorway, arms folded, one ankle crossed over the other, his shoulder pressed against the steel border around the threshold, "y'know, its true what they say, the female of the species is deadlier than the male," he mused, glancing down at the punchbag lying across the floor, the chain and fixings still attached to a piece of the ceiling that had come down with it.
Rogue rolled her eyes, "ha ha, so funny, I nearly bust a gut," she wiped the sweat off her neck, then reached for her water bottle, and took a long drink.
"Haven't seen you this worked up since two Christmas's ago when Bobby made the mistake of sayin' you'd put on too many 'Christmas pounds'," Logan gave a slight smirk, his eyes glittering in slight amusement, he walked in. "C'mon, kid, show me what you got."
Rogue put her water bottle down, and wiped her mouth, she tucked a few stray hairs behind her ears, and stood at her full height, watching as Logan did the same. He bowed slightly to her, and she did the same, and then she swung her right fist at him.
Logan dodged, he thrust a punch at her stomach, he didn't need to hold back with the punch, her invulnerability barely let her feel a tap let alone the full strength of his fist, Rogue swung around, trying to catch him off guard with a kick, he caught her ankle, "nice try," he responded.
Rogue broke free, swung her left fist at him, catching him in the jaw, she felt the Adamantium lacing his jawbone, it didn't hurt her fist too much, although it was slightly jarring just out incredibly well it absorbed the impact.
"Was that meant to hurt?" Logan mused, he ducked a right punch, he swung a kick at her, she tried to block, but failed lousily, and slightly staggered to the side unsteadily.
"You're not trying hard enough," Logan's voice was like gravel, his eyes showed elements of the true cunning behind them, "focus!"
"I am!" Rogue swung again, missing him, she was becoming tired, but she pressed herself onwards, she lashed out with her foot to his legs hoping to knock him down, but he jumped upwards just in time, using unsheathing his adamantium claws at precisely the right moment, his claws collided and imbedded themselves into the concrete ceiling, almost slicing through like butter. With himself held stationary to the ceiling, he kicked her square in the chest knocking her completely over, he sheathed the claws again, and dropped to the floor in a catlike manner, he looked at her.
They fought against each other for fifteen solid minutes, and Logan outwitted her at every opportunity – which she gave plenty of. Finally, Logan had had enough, whatever she tried to assure, she was definitely not focused today, "You can do so much better than this…" he said, "You're letting your anger cloud your judgement. In a real fight, that's gonna get you killed," he pointed out.
Rogue sat upon the pile of exercise mats Bobby had been resting upon earlier, "I can't be killed, Logan, I'm invulnerable."
"Don't always count on your powers bein' there to back you up, sometimes things don't work out that way," Logan frowned at her, "almost nine years I've been mentoring you on the art of combat, you can do so much better than this, I suggest you practice…"
Rogue frowned, "I'm practicing, Wolverine," she claimed, she looked away from him stubbornly.
"And that's another thing," Logan pointed at her, he knew the last thing she needed was someone to come up with a bad attitude towards her right now but he felt that pussyfooting around her like everyone had been doing ever since, "you can quit with your bad attitude right now, Rogue, we haven't had to see it in seven years, and just because Gumbo is back doesn't mean you have the right to start becoming all hostile towards us all again," he said, "I know you're stronger than that," he muttered, and with those final words, he set his jaw, cricked his neck, and then left the room.