About to return home from cleaning up the lighthouse, Rogue and Remy run across first Jean--who is nothing like the telepath they left behind the portals--and then Magneto, and the conversation inexorably turns to the rift between humans and metas.
The Point -- Beacon Harbor
Jean has returned to the scene of the crime, so to speak. Last time it was to be lost in memory and she came to fly and think and be alone. This time, she's hoping to see a certain fellow with white hair. She came in her street clothes and has been wandering the rocks, with an occasional flare of TK to keep from falling on particularly slick spots or to help her over large gaps as she walks near the waves.
From the base of the lighthouse, there's a sudden voice, unmasked by the opening of the door. Mid-timbre in range, it's a distinctive voice marked by smugly amused laughter and a particular accent. "Tol' you dat panel still had some power in it. Good t'ing you don't 'zap' as easy as some, neh?" It's Remy LeBeau, also in streetclothes--and not a small amount of grease and dirt--with his hair pulled back into a small ponytail and a broad grin over his face. He's speaking behind him, door held for a companion yet-unseen.
"Oh, shut up," drawls an answering voice, one with a distinctly more wry and exasperated tone. Rogue emerges a moment behind the Cajun, the back of a gloved hand scrubbing a smudge from her face as she steps out into the open air. "Bad enough you gotta say 'Ah told you so,' but do y'gotta *laugh* about it too?"
Jean turns in her place, grinning at the easy exchange between the pair. "I suppose I shouldn't be seeing this." she calls lightly. "I won't tell if you won't." She takes a closer step, mostly to get a better look and telepathic feel of the pair if she can. There's not much chance to get away if that pair doesn't after all. Brazen just seemed more fun.
Telepathically, the Cajun is a brickwall; at times, it's as if there simply aren't any thoughts in his head--which might be argued on better acquaintence--and at others as if every thought as been dipped in oil, too slippery to hold still even long enough to be discerned. It's distinctive, if inconclusive. Remy starts, a little, at the sound of Jean's voice, and any smart-assed comment he might have been gearing up for Rogue is waylaid as he looks over his shoulder towards the words. "..eh?" Very profound.
Rogue's thoughts are more accessible, albeit staticky with mental white noise from an accumulation of psychic echoes, ghosts and fragments of other people's personalities. Recognition fires distinctly in the midst of this at the sound of Jean's voice, but it stutters into confused uncertainty as Rogue's head comes up and she actually gets a look at the other woman. She squints, briefly, and her hand scrubs quickly across her forehead. "Okay, so maybe it zapped me a little more than Ah thought..." Definitely one of those alternate reality things, she is concluding. Waaaaaaaay alternate reality.
Jean looks from one to the other at the reaction. Okay, that's not what she expected. Maybe it wasn't a breaking and entering for... uh... whatever might be in a lighthouse. Still, odd reactions, and really odd mental sensations are enough to catch her interest. "So, anything interesting in there?" she asks with that smile still in place.
Remy recovers relatively quickly, mostly because he's made a living of lying about what's going through his head. "Mice, mostly." He says, flashing a bright grin. "An' dust. Lots of dust." It's all over his shirt and his coat, as a testimony to that. There's absolutely no change in the strange and unreadable nature of his mind.
He's not wrong, and Rogue rolls her eyes expressively in agreement. "An' plenty of broke-ass wiring," she adds, honestly enough, and then hesitates, squinting again. Miss Manners never wrote rules for situations like this one.
Jean hops from rock to rock quickly, moving with ease and the sort of almost animal grace that comes with the sort of training that a Wolverine type has rather than a more typical Jean-esque dancer's steps. She never loses sight of the pair as she moves toward them, and stops at a comfortable distance. "Sounds boring." she says as she stops. "Still, might be worth remembering for a place to hide. Things don't get that dusty if folks pay attention to them."
That's really sort of unnerving. Remy tosses his head nonchalantly to one side, a motion that would have ghosted his bangs across his eyes if they'd been down. "Oh, I wouldn' say dat. Lighthouse keeper comes t'rough pretty regular, an' I get de impression he don't like people he don't know too well." It's a blithe and utter lie, but the Cajun speaks it like the gospel truth. "Jus' dat places dat big get a lot of dust, I t'ink."
Subject change! "...have we met?" Rogue wonders, still eyeing Jean in vague confusion. That whole Jean/verynotJean thing is kind of disorienting. "Not t'sound weird or anything, but you look awful familiar."
Jean may not be able to read either of them easily, but some things are kind of obvious. With a tiny brush of telekinesis, she flicks some of the dust on Remy's shirt. "What does he do? Fly?" she asks with a playful shake of her head. Then she turns toward Rogue and tips her head in thought. "I don't think so. Then again, I've met some folks that I've known here that didn't know me. This place is weird like that."
"I don't t'ink so," Remy says, in a tone of voice that clearly implies he knows some people who *do*. The telekinesis either goes unnoticed or ignored. "Funny, seems to me most all de people I been meeting dat I know ain't got a clue who I am." Jean herself included, it would seem.
Rogue's head bobs slowly. "Yeah," she says, after a moment, "Ah ain't run into so many people Ah didn't know who knew me, but Ah've done a bit of th'other way 'round. S'pretty weird. Name's Rogue, by th'way." She puts a certain questioning inflection on the otherwise casual statement, an invitation for Jean to give her name, though she's pretty sure she already knows the answer.
Jean reaches into her shirt pocket and pulls out a slightly crumpled pack of off brand cigarettes. As she draws one out with powers, she begins to pat her pockets to find a lighter. "Rogue? Sounds familiar. I've not met you, but I think I heard the name in the news back home maybe. Been a while though." She shrugs slightly. "I've noticed most of the folks I've seen have been important. I wasn't all that back home so I guess that's why no one's known me. I'm Jean. No cool flashy name here."
Despite the fact that his eyes will betray him immediately as abnormal, Remy isn't going to fling his own power around quite yet. Instead, he passes a hand over the pocket of his trenchcoat, a Zippo coming away to be offered easily between two fingers to Jean. "Remy." The Cajun introduces himself easily, "'Les you're dead-set on gettin' de flashy name. An' I ain't sho' I'd list m'self as 'important'."
"Well," says Rogue, "night t'meet you, anyway. Actually, t'be honest, Ah do know you from somewhere else, but..." she shrugs, dismissively, "was a lot diff'rent. Ah'm gettin' pretty good at not assumin' too much, these days." Since we're being honest. And with a telepath, why not?
Remy's eyes hood a little, as he considers Jean, and his voice drops a little into something more serious. "De righ' contacts hide it well 'nough. If I had to, I'd wear dem. But I figure, no need here, hien? I jus' put up wit' de shit I get 'bout it sometime. B'sides, I don't kill easy." He does hide well, however, but he isn't going to mention that.
Jean gives a small nod. "It's heading toward it though. It's getting just like when I was in school still. Someone's going to find a test, like they had back home and then they're going to be finding who's who." She scowls, the good humor of earlier fading quickly with the dark idea. "Then someone will push too hard and they push back and we'll be hunted down and sent to camps for 'our own protection'." With those last words, the sarcasm just runs off. Forget dripping. "Then all we'll be lacking is a leader and it's all downhill. And the leader is here, waiting for that same push likely."
Rogue's glance is answered by a flicker of those contested eyes, before Remy pushes the stray strands of his bangs that have pulled out of his ponytail off of his face with one hand. "Oh, I don' know dat t'ings're gettin' bad as all dat. After all, can still manage to hold down a job wit' dese eyes." Again, as long as one doesn't examine the terms of his employment. The truth is, Jean's words are a little closer to the truth than Gambit is comfortable with.
"That, sugah," Rogue puts in, amiably, "is what Ah b'lieve they call 'borrowin' trouble'." Not, admittedly, that Jean doesn't have a point. "Happens Ah s'spect this city's too busy bein' a wretched hive of scum an' villainy t'start any national genetic crusades."
Jean shakes her head slowly. "So instead of one of us being the center of it by bitching about how we're treated and setting it in motion, one of *them* uses this city as proof of how terrible we are." she says before taking a long draw from her cigarette and releasing a cloud of smoke, with a polite turn of her head to keep said smoke from their faces. "And, if we're not careful, too many of us that could do something effective will be gone already when we fight back. Or they won't fight at all until it's too late." The last is added with far less venom that the main accusations.
Not to worry, as a lord of overreactive fighters-- well, that's his fame, anyway-- is making an appearance on the scene. He doesn't come with a blast of energy or float out of the sky or any number of grand things. In fact, due to that, he's pretty easy to simply overlook or not notice right away. Magnus makes his way on foot, on the ground, along the lower bluff of the point down by the fence, along the rocks, hands deep in pockets, the darkness of the darkening winter midday sucking his form into near invisibility, aside from the spark of white from hair. The last time he was here he sensed something below... and today he's having a 'look', as it were.
Remy supresses a grimace beneath another flicker of look to Rogue; this is beginning to sound a little familiar. "Dis ain't no war. We can live wit' 'dem' jus' fine, an' nobody hurt nobody." He didn't used to tie into Xavier's spiel. The Cajun is, to Magnus' disadvantage, perhaps, very observant. His head comes up, a little, as Magnus' motion attracts his attention, and this time the flicker of something dark is a little longer. He might have stepped closer to Rogue, subtly, but it's hard to tell. "I wouldn' worry 'bout it yet."
Rogue spreads her gloved hands, brows lifting a little. "Even s'posin' you're right, though, ain't a whole lot can be done about it, 'cept tryin' not t'be th'one that sets it off, an' smackin' down anybody who starts settin' themself up as a boogeyman t'scare folks." She's not so observant to notice anything moving in the sky, but she does flick another little look Remy's way, perhaps picking up on some small cue from him.
Jean snorts at Remy. "I hope you get a chance to come to your senses when it goes to hell then, Remy." she snaps. "At least I figured it out in time to help the survivors." And her tone is almost accusatory, as if staying out of it is some kind of near personal insult. She gives no sign of having noticed Magneto as she's facing the person that did spot him and he's already proven quite capable of avoiding her telepathy. Turning more toward Rogue she shakes her head again. "Smacking down the troublemakers might help. Stopping the fucking bluebloods from finding a test for us would help even more. And training *now* to be ready when it does blow up might not be so bad either. I had to learn from what was left." She looks pointedly at Remy with that. "I might have made a difference if I'd tried earlier."
Magneto's pretty far away and the point would be windy, by nature, so close to the ocean, to suck most sound away from prying ears. Makes it a good spot for private talks, to a certain extent, anyway. He spots a trio of people-- but doesn't exactly have any reason or wish to go over an intrude on whoever they are. He'll assume they're simply out doing what he's pretending to be doing-- a stroll at a place with a great view out over the sea. His path turns him more towards the lighthouse itself, as his attention goes elsewhere too-- not so much the immediate living surroundings but other things that he can pick up with strokes of mental search. He'll proably move into at least 'there's some guy over there' range pretty quick even at his smooth, steady walking pace, though he shows no sign of being interested in the three.
"Or lashin' out gives dem a *reason* for finding de God-damn test in de firs' place. Your way, you's eit'er a salvation or you's de catalyst, an' it only matters how I tilt my head which one I see." Remy's bright eyes narrow, falling on Jean critically. "What's dat sayin', 'wit' great power comes great responsibility'? You can't be usin' what you got to beat up on people an' expectin' people not to react like you's doin' it. What *does* gotta happen is people got to stop abusin' mutation, but 'course de X-Gene ain't 'xactly particular in de way it goes 'bout allottin' power." Nevermind that Gambit himself is actually quite involved with taking down the so-called 'bluebloods' by merit of his employment, nevermind that both he and Rogue were physically present at the distruction of the Icarus' building. "Paranoia on bot' sides ain't doin' nobody no favors. But us risin' up b'fore dere's anyt'in' to rise 'gainst only makes people who'd be ot'erwise reasonable get all riled up, too. Ain't not'in' dat binds better dan a common t'reat." There's something thrumming like a tight steel cord under Remy's voice that wasn't there, before.
"An' there is absolutely no winnin' this argument," Rogue puts in, exasperation edging her tone. "Remy's right - you go overboard tryin' t'take precations for your own protection, you can scare people right into attackin' you. Ah been caught in th'crossfire of a fight like that before." Said crossfire involved missiles and just generally sucked. And speaking of which... Rogue's attention gets somewhat diverted as Magneto comes into view, and she looks away from the other two to peer through the failing light at that indistinct, approaching figure.
Jean smirks and unless the slippery mind of Remy and the mental static of Rogue are enough to stop her mental illusions, a small glass tube seems to appear, filled with a thick blue liquid. She doesn't send the image to Magneto, too focused on the talk at hand to really notice him still. "So we just hide and pass their fucking tests like this when they show up and get turned into animals by their dammed laws and lose because we weren't ready." She says angrily to Remy. "If we don't find some way to band together and learn what we can do, by the time someone does enough to anger a leader into action, we'll have already lost. I don't want to start the war now, but I sure as hell don't want to be trying to train the army during the battle." She seems about to go on and then shakes her head. "You're right Rogue." she says as the image fades, and a small rattle of pebbles near her can just barely be heard over the surf as they start rolling away, unnoticed by Jean as she finally turns to see what the other two are looking at.
Magneto isn't overly worried or concerned about being noticed, he's not sneaking along. But he does pause, head angled, and squat, as if he noticed something on the ground, or just below it, that he wanted a few feet's worth of a closer look. But.. you know that feeling when people are looking at you? He glances up and over to the other three people, perhaps more picking up on Jean's raised voice or her rattling pebbles than much else, in point of fact. He glances back down to whatever snared his attention, and then rises to his feet after pausing to brush at the back of a pant leg for some grit, as if that was why he bent in the first place. Nope, just a bonus for Mr. Immaculate.
Remy's jaw sets, briefly, and he gestures towards his eyes sharply. "Do I look like I'm *hidin'* from anybody?" A heartbeat, and the Cajun takes a deep breath, as if to calm himself; he doesn't react to any image of blue liquid, mostly because he can't see it. "An' I don't recall bein' tested for not'in'. But dey try an' take me anywhere I don' wanna go, dey got anot'er t'ink comin'." Again, the Cajun lifts his eyes towards Magneto, and if he finds the other man's attention nearby, Gambit will nod in something that's almost a greeting.
Rogue wasn't so much paying attention to Jean as she was eyeing Magneto, contemplating something to the effect of 'hey, isn't that Erik?' and 'what's he *doing?*' - at least until that incongruous mental image pops up very much apropos of nothing and derails her train of thought into confusion and sudden defensive anger. "Hey," she snaps, eyes snapping back towards Jean, "how 'bout you do me a favor an' stay outta my head 'less you're invited in?" She's got enough voices in her head as it is.
Jean rolls her eyes and the image vanishes. "Just showing Remy here that I tried to wait before. It doesn't work." She says as she half raises her hand to wave to Magneto, then pauses to wait for him to look so she can try and catch his eye. "Trust me though. If it comes to that, they'll get you. One way or another."
Magneto does look, and seems to sort of consider them as Jean waves, and then comes over physically, at ease, relaxed, although his expression is indeed mildly curious. He didn't particularly think Jean was connected to these others. Then again, it doesn't surprise him overly, as they all knew who he was-- so they may have more in common, of course. "I didn't mean to intrude on your argument," Magneto says in mild observation, gaze sliding from Remy across Rogue to Jean, pale eyes watchful but not judgemental.
"T'ink de part I like de *best* is how you keep judgin' me, knowin' not'in' 'bout where I'm comin' from or what I done." Remy snaps, his voice low and vicious, before taking hold of himself again. When he continues, his voice is a little more gentle. "Dis ain't where you was b'fore, Jean. Mebbe give people a l'il chance. New world, new possibilities. Ain't all gotta be bad." Another heartbeat, and then he's lifting his head to hood his eyes and say, immeasurably haughtily, "Ain't met de homme yet dat can build de cage dat keeps me in."
And now it's Rogue's turn to roll her eyes, and turn towards Magneto to observe dryly, "Oh, don't sweat it, sugah. You know some folks can have an argument anywhere." One that she is more than ready to leave behind in favor of other subjects, like, "What're you up to?" She herself is a bit smudged and dusty, as though she's been crawling around in a basement or something like that.
Jean smirks to Remy. "Just judgin' by wha' you said." she rolls off in a poor mimic of his accent. Then she takes another draw from her cigarette and turns toward Mags more fully. "Good to see you again." she tells him with a grin. "And glad for the distraction. We weren't getting anywhere anyway."
Remy's eyes roll, briefly, and the approximation of Jean's on accent that rolls of his tongue is perfect to a tee. "Keep the day job. And what I've been saying and what I've lived aren't necessarily the same thing. It's possible for a man to look beyond his station in life." The Cajun, like Rogue, is smudged and dirty, his hair pulled back imperfectly into a ponytail. As Magneto joins the crowd, he shifts a little to allow a triangle to become a rectangle, nodding softly. "Erik."
Magneto chuckles dryly at Jean, with a slight nod. "No, doesn't sound like it. More darkness in our futures, I'm guessing?" He says, in a way that doesn't approve nor disagree with her. Hey, he can't see the future, he can't say for sure what's in it. And some futures-- well, maybe knowing about them has already changed things. He glances to Remy. "New world, new possibilities.. hmm. An argument about destiny isn't one I think I want to join in on right now, as much as I'd like to know what's coming up the road." A pause with a mild glance to Jean at the last bit of his sentence. And then, to Remy. "Hello," he adds, smoothly without even a hitch in his same smooth, idle tone, to Remy, as he's greeted by name.
Rogue waves a hand vaguely. "Nothin's guaranteed," she says easily. "Ah used t'hang around a precog; Ah know from destiny." That was almost a pun, and she grins a little in spite of herself, foolishly, before she shakes her head and turns a sharper look on Remy and Jean. "It'd prob'ly help if you two'd quit snipin' at each other, 'fore Ah have t'smack someone."
Jean nods slightly, holding her hands up in surrender. "Consider it dropped. I've dealt with stubborn assholes before. They taught me how to be one when it matters. I can let it go when it doesn't though. Maybe if it starts looking worse, it'll matter. Right now, I think there's time to work out other things." She grins over at Magus then, tipping her head slightly. "There's still time to be patient right now."
Magneto smiles a little bit to Jean, though a brow lifts at the commentary about stubborn assholes. Something of a rugged young lady, isn't she. He looks to Remy, mostly to see how the male reacts to this. He himself is just sort of ... amused. Patient at this point, and ... watching. How they interact with each other, these people with abilities similar to his own. He hasn't really had huge amounts of exposure so far. "What is it that needs to be worked out now?" he asks Jean quietly, as if he has some pretty good guesses, but wants to hear her out anyway.
As if the animosity hadn't been there at all, Remy breaks into a grin, which he flashes briefly to Jean. "'S alrigh', I got a t'ick skull on me anyhow." Jean probably has that all figured out for himself. "Trus' me, t'ings start gettin' worse dan dey is, I ain't de kind to lay down an' take it. But I don't want t'be de one in de wrong if it comes to t'rowin' down, b'cause I'm damn sure I'd be de one still standin' at de end." Maybe not as sure as he sounds, but right now it doesn't matter yet. Then the bright grin is turned to Rogue. "You know damn well ain't a single time smackin' me's done any good."
"Yeah," Rogue drawls, grinning back at Remy, "but that's just 'cause you got a head like a rock, an' not a damn thing in it." She tucks her thumbs casually into her hip pockets and looks towards Jean, brows lifting a little in curiosity as she waits to hear how the redhead will answer Magnus' question.
Jean doesn't mind the attentions from the others as she squares on Magus. "Same sort of things we've talked a little about, sir." she tells him, being pointedly polite to him as she does. "That we need to be ready for things to keep getting worse."
Magneto didn't really anticipate that pointed politeness there, and it shows on his face a little bit, though not all that much. Careful, you'll fuel his ego! Then again, maybe he could stand a dose or two of that, at least for now. "Mmmm-hmmm," he nods once, apparently agreeable to what Jean's referring to. "I don't think it's possible to be ready for everything. And I think these people here are different than those that caused the problems of your world, Jean. But I think there's great value, certainly, in gathering what information everyone -does- know. I think there's some time-- probably quite a bit-- before any great war, mostly because -everyone- is scattered about and organization is a pain on any 'side'." He sighs softly at Jean, and is probably rather obviously trying to keep out of a leadership mode and keeps his tones even and reserved, although his reason is likely not real clear. "But ... this is heavy talk for a place and time like this..." he comments, honestly curious why the three of them are chatting about meta slavery and such out by a lighthouse in the evening.
It's also not a conversation Remy ever saw himself really carrying out with Magneto. "Plenty in dere," He says, sotto voce to Rogue, "An' I'd be glad t'show you 'f you asked nice." But then he's glancing back to Erik, rolling one shoulder in a shrug. "Jus' sayin' dere's a diff'rence b'tween bein' ready, an' bein' so pre-emptive you make somet'in' happen."
Rogue cuffs Remy lightly on the shoulder with a loosely curled fist, the only answer with which she dignifies that comment. "Not intentional," she tells Magneto cheerfully. "Been workin' on th'wirin' in th'lighthouse. Blame t'lectricity - gettin' zapped musta fused somethin' in my head." Because Rogue is otherwise never serious. Really.
Jean nods a bit, taking her time to draw on her cigarette and release the smoke in a near sigh as she lets the last of her own annoyance go. "You're right, of course." she says and then looks at Remy. "Sorry for taking it so far, but I've lived through it once. I'm not going to sit back and just let it happen again. I hope you understand. I'm not looking to start something, but I don't plan to be sitting back when it does start. Not again."
Magneto looks unblinkingly to Remy, "I must have missed the part of the conversation aobut being preemptive." He shrugs slightly. He did, in fact, he missed most of the conversation, just picking up on the tail end from what Jean had said, basically. He smiles to her as she tones back somewhat. Good. "Nobody's asking you to," he responds to Jean, in what's probably a supportive tone. A little eerie from Magneto maybe, but he doesn't really know the difference. "In fact, I kind of doubt you could if you wanted to," he smirks slightly, recalling how ... passionate she always is on the topic.
"Like I said, no hard feelin's. C'est pas de tout." Remy even manages not to eye Magneto with something edging towards suspicion, instead, giving Jean something like an encouraging smile. "Was a l'il b'fore you wandered over." He says to Erik, shrugging again. "But s'pose dat's a moot point now."
"Nothin' wrong with bein' prepared," Rogue agrees, with the amiable nonchalance of one who never bothers with silly things like planning ahead or being prepared herself. "An' no sense arguin' over it, anyhow."
Jean shakes her head at Remy. "If they make a test, they've started it." She says and then quickly raises a hand. "I know. I know. Don't start again. Sorry." She shakes her head again. Instead she focuses on Magneto again. "You're right there. I can't leave it alone. I've done it too often to ever do it again."
Magneto shrugs slightly, and lifts his hands to flip up the collar of his jacket. "You mentioned re-wiring the lighthouse-- is that why you're out here? You have a...." he considers the word. "..lair here?" he queries, with a smile that suggests he knows more than what he's asking on the surface. This question is mostly at Rogue.
Like so many moments in his life, Remy is very grateful for the control over his face and his reactions that he can exert when he has to. Any surprise he might feel in the inside at Magneto's words is well hidden behind his mental shielding and under the gambler's mask; it manifests only as a darting of bright eyes to Erik's face, a conspicuous silence while Remy lets Rogue answer.
The Cajun might as well not have bothered. Rogue acquires, briefly, an expression of comical surprise that makes her resemble a deer in the headlights. And then she breaks out into giggling. "'Lair,'" she echoes, in tones of profound amusement. "Y'make it sound like some kinda mad scientist's lab or somethin', sugah."
Jean grins a little, hearing the reactions. "Well, I did mention it would make a good hiding place. I've had to pick out a few." She looks over to the lighthouse with a smile. "This one would even have a roof. Big improvement over some I've had."
You paged Rogue with 'Tell ya what. Let me at least get back to where Rinoa is in the game, and help me make the collar scene I'm obsessing over happen, and I'll see about at least Sandboxing her routinely if not apping for her at NC after Kurtling. Bear in mind, I'm still intending to Year ONe Gambit there if BobbyPlayer doesn't return in a month or two of opening/me getting approved for Kurt.'.
Magneto laughs softly, shrugging to Rogue. Remy's game face changes are entirely overlooked. He lets the question... slide, in a sense. "All that is missing is your labcoats," he agrees with Rogue, and then arches a brow a little to Jean. "Roof... the big requirement for lairs, yes. So far hotels have suited me fine," he says idly, and for the sake of Rogue and Remy, draws the conversation away from the lighthouse. "As I've never gotten along with realtors-- particularly those that expect giant funds despite recent arrival." He smirks slightly.
Here, Remy loosens his expression a little, granting the gathering one of his almost namesake lopsided grins. "People grab all de money dey can, when dey can, sometimes. M'landlord ain't so bad, so long as I try an' keep from blowin' holes in de wall or takin' de fire escape clean off de buildin'." This said as if he's had problems with those things happening on a regular basis.
Rogue makes a wry face. "Yeah, an' we see how well *that* works out," she tells Remy, before looking back towards Magneto and Jean. "What it mostly is right now is *broke.* Ev'rything in there's been in there 'bout twenty years, an' most of it ain't been touched in that long, which is why Ah been crawlin' around gettin' zapped by th'wirin'."
Jean smiles wider. "Well, if Kitty ever kicks me out, I know where to go." she jokes lightly, eyes still toward the lighthouse. She then gives Magus a wry grin. "And where I'm from, that's not a joke. A roof is important. Almost as big a deal as clean water."
Magneto turns his eyes to the lighthouse, since Rogue brought it up. He seems to just kind of look into the distance, as if he went off to visit he land of Oz for a minute. "Yes, it's a pretty big mess. Most of your wiring, needs to be replaced, some of it under that cement foundation," he comments as if he is pretty sure about it. "Aside from what you've worked on. And it might be safer to disconnect power before doing any of that." A pause. "I can shut it down if you wish. Or sectionally." He's distracted by Jean, and smiles slightly to her, nodding once. "I see. Glad that you have a roof now, then," he states.
Magneto, working on their secret base. Magneto, on their team. Magneto, ostensibly a good guy. Remy is surpressing the almost overwhelming desire to start impulsively scratching at sections of his skin, chanting quietly 'alternate universe' over and over within the confines of his own skull. Instead, he looks askanse to Jean, one corner of his mouth twitching up again. "Kitty's housin' you, too? Seems t'me 'f she started takin' in money, she'd be a rich woman in no time."
A bit of surprised laughter escapes Rogue, and her attention focuses wholly on Jean for a moment. "You, too, huh? How many of us is that girl puttin' up, anyhow?" She rolls her eyes good-naturedly... though the laughter gives way to a rueful sigh as she looks off towards the lighthouse. "Ah was really hopin' t'get it all done myself - best way t'know th'place in an' out is t'get my hands on all of it. But f'it's that bad Ah might need your kinda hand."
Jean turns back and nods to Rogue and Remy. "She's a nice girl, uh, woman. She's been a great help." Then she grins a little wider. "As for this place, I'll be glad to give you a hand too." she says. "Help move things around or clean up. Whatever."
"I don't doubt you can do it yourself. I won't take it personally if you do want to know exactly how your wiring works. Just hope you don't waste your time or effort in areas that don't need it. I didn't mean to imply you didn't know what you were doing, if I did so." A pause. "But not today. I think I may be already late..." he doesn't check his watch. It has metal hands, of course. "And I can tell already that I wasn't supposed to know about your place. I hope my knowledge doesn't turn you off from using it, but it's understandable, I suppose, if it does-- better to be on teh safe side." And his reputation is ugly! "But I'd better be off. Good to see each of you again." He inclines his head politely, a cool quality to his eyes.
To be honest, most of Remy's bias against the man comes from an entirely different being that once set an atomic bomb off in Remy's girlfriend's face. Gambit just hasn't been able to come around after that juncture. He does nod politely as Erik makes to go, flickering his gaze once more to Rogue. Look, he behaved and didn't snark, stomp away, or try to blow anybody up.
Rogue makes a dismissive "pff" sound. "Was actually meanin' t'tell you 'bout it anyhow," she says, "bein' as you were pretty much bound t'notice it sooner or later." It was this strange new Jean she'd rather have not let in on it, but that ship's sailed now. "You take care."
Jean grins. "I should probably get going too." she says. "I've kept you all from a lot with my temper fit." Taking a step back, she uses TK to crush out the fire on her cigarette and carefully folds the filter into her fingers to keep it as she goes. Not littering. Or maybe not leaving tracks.
Magneto waves to them, with a sort of distant expression, and takes his leave-- rather suddenly and quietly, with no muss or fuss or big explosions. Nah... subtle for now. Another day for being big and graphic. For now... well, the mystery of the underground lair is solved, and he's off to other things.
Remy watches Jean, for a few heartbeats, before he turns to Rogue with a rueful and closed-mouth grin that he isn't explaining. Instead, he holds his arms out to her, cocking his head to one side. "Take me home, chere? I'm dirty an' I prob'ly smell like mouse shit." The grin grows a bit more cheeky, a familiar light creeping into his eyes as they hood just a fraction.
Rogue is left to roll her eyes in sudden affectionate exasperation. "You're such a romantic, LeBeau," she snarks, moving to wrap her arms around him so that she can lift them both into the air. "Ah dunno how Ah could possibly resist."
Jean will wander off on her own, swapping to costume later and flying herself off. So she lied once. She does have one of those cool names. Just... not with the mask off.
Finis!