PI LOG: A Step In Some Direction -- Remy and Rogue
After the encounter with a certain crazed blonde at the dance club, Remy tries to make sense of his topsy-turvy life once more, through contemplation and conversation with Rogue.
The Audobon Cottages -- New Orleans
A general consensus had been come to between the two Southerners outside of the Assassin's Safehouse--whatever else was going on, New Orleans probably wasn't the place for them to be just at the moment. They returned to their hotel room with the intention of packing up and making scarce as soon as their plane tickets could be changed--but right now, Remy isn't packing. He's standing at the balcony, leaning against the glass and looking out over the courtyard, lost in his own mind.
Yet another handy use of super-strength: cramming belongings into a suitcase and forcing it to stay closed long enough to zip it up. Rogue is almost packed up by the time she realizes that Remy's not getting ready to leave. "Hey, sugah," she says, leaving her things behind to wander towards him. "You talk to anyone 'bout th'tickets."
"Not yet," Remy admits, frowning out the window for another long moment before he turns and looks over his shoulder to Rogue. "I been t'inkin'." It's not really a phrase that he says often, and it doesn't usually bode well.
Rogue tries a smile, because it seems like a better choice than letting on how uncertain she feels at the moment. "Well, y'know what they say 'bout that..."
He turns fully, now, to regard Rogue, his own smile lopsided and only tilted up on one side. "Y'know I seem to r'member ol' Chuck sayin' somet'in' 'bout your powers bein' all in your head." Remy says carefully, his eyes sliding to the side. "Not bein' able to control dem, dat is."
Suddenly, she's a little bit sorry that she asked. Rogue's smile falters a little, though she does her best to cover it, lifting her brows in manufactured curiosity. "What're you thinkin'?"
Remy sighs softly, trying to organize his thoughts before he puts them into words. That's always a bad sign, isn't it? "I t'ink .. mebbe .. part of your problem ain't dat you can't use your powers. I t'ink dat it's you're 'fraid to get close. I t'ink you's 'fraid of intimacy." He fiddles with his hands, still inable to meet Rogue's gaze, but his hands are empty and they don't keep him occupied for long. "An' seein' Bel an' all, I got to t'inkin'... Dere wouldn'...I coul' help you. Wit'out havin' to touch your skin. If you wan'. An' mebbe if you get over bein' 'fraid of havin' somebody close, mebbe de rest'll fall into place." He trails off a little; he probably has more to say, but it's clear it's hard enough for Gambit to say what he's said already.
It's just what Rogue was afraid he was going to say, and though she tries her best not to let on, there's a moment there where she begins to very slightly withdraw, a hint of a shadow coming over her face. And then what he actually *said* sinks in, and she blinks. That... was not quite what she'd expected. "Ah don't think Ah quite understand," she admits after a long pause.
He's trying not to be crude, which is just another challange for Remy, and he looks nervously to the side again as if he's really like to sit down. "I mean dat dere're t'ings people can do t'get'er dat don' need skin to touch skin. Intimate t'ings." Gambit pauses again, pushes his fingers through his hair. "If you t'ink you're ready for dose, I'm here. Dat's what I'm tryin' to say. If not...well, still here. Imperfect as I am."
Rogue had been watching Remy's hands rather than risk meeting his eyes, but now surprise and confusion bring her puzzled gaze right up to his face. "...Wait a minute," she says slowly. "Remy... are you suggestin' what Ah *think* you're suggestin'?" Her face is taking on a distinct blush as she says it.
Remy's eyes trail up and to the side, now, almost vaguely embarressed beneath the reluctance. "Prob'ly." He says, quietly. "I...really, I only wan' you t'be happy." And he wants to be the person who *makes* Rogue happy, but that's a little catch he won't voice aloud.
"Well." The word comes out on a breathless little laugh, and Rogue lifts a hand to rake her fingers awkwardly through her hair. "Ah have t'admit, that's one suggestion Ah ain't expected t'hear. Ahh..." She sucks in a deep breath, and blows it back out again. "Ah dunno quite what t'think."
"I didn' 'spect you woul'." Remy says, quietly, before he squints a little at Rogue--not in anger, just amicable scrutiny. "What *did* you 'spect to hear?"
Rogue spreads her hands, offering a sheepish little smile. "Well, we've had conversations that started out kinda like this one before..."
Remy gives a dry, mostly humorless little laugh, his mouth twitching upwards again. "I ain't real fond of breakin' beer bottles wit' my hand or sleepin' in wearhouses, chere." He tells her, shifting his weight and still looking, generally, uncomfortable. "Guess...I jus' got to t'inkin'. 'Bout how I ain't really de man I was when I married de Bel I did marry." That sentence almost got confusing, there, and the Cajun creases his brow as he thinks it out again. "Or how I wasn' a man at all, back den."
It's a serious subject, but somehow, Rogue can't help but laugh a little. "Now y'lost me entirely, darlin'. But s'okay. You an' me both know as well as anyone that folks can change. Maybe... once we get where we're goin', we can talk about it some more."
That's certainly better than getting written off out of hand. Remy smiles a bit more honestly, this time, and nods, bringing in all those vagrant, loose edges to almost come back into focus. "C'est bien. Guess I better get on de horn if we's gonna get outta here b'fore de Guilds let loose on our scent, neh?"
"Yeah." Again, Rogue quirks a lopsided smile. "Havin' them come bustin' in would really kill th'mood." There's a brief pause as she looks back towards the spot where she left her suitcase. "Ah'm 'bout packed... want me t'take care of your stuff while you switch th'tickets, or what?"
"Sho'." It isn't like Rogue will spirit off his underwear or anything--and if she does, she's welcome to it. He'll just buy more. Remy pushes his fingers through his hair again in a brief, choppy motion before he takes a deep breath to settle himself and flashes a smile at Rogue on his way to the phone.
Finis!
The Audobon Cottages -- New Orleans
A general consensus had been come to between the two Southerners outside of the Assassin's Safehouse--whatever else was going on, New Orleans probably wasn't the place for them to be just at the moment. They returned to their hotel room with the intention of packing up and making scarce as soon as their plane tickets could be changed--but right now, Remy isn't packing. He's standing at the balcony, leaning against the glass and looking out over the courtyard, lost in his own mind.
Yet another handy use of super-strength: cramming belongings into a suitcase and forcing it to stay closed long enough to zip it up. Rogue is almost packed up by the time she realizes that Remy's not getting ready to leave. "Hey, sugah," she says, leaving her things behind to wander towards him. "You talk to anyone 'bout th'tickets."
"Not yet," Remy admits, frowning out the window for another long moment before he turns and looks over his shoulder to Rogue. "I been t'inkin'." It's not really a phrase that he says often, and it doesn't usually bode well.
Rogue tries a smile, because it seems like a better choice than letting on how uncertain she feels at the moment. "Well, y'know what they say 'bout that..."
He turns fully, now, to regard Rogue, his own smile lopsided and only tilted up on one side. "Y'know I seem to r'member ol' Chuck sayin' somet'in' 'bout your powers bein' all in your head." Remy says carefully, his eyes sliding to the side. "Not bein' able to control dem, dat is."
Suddenly, she's a little bit sorry that she asked. Rogue's smile falters a little, though she does her best to cover it, lifting her brows in manufactured curiosity. "What're you thinkin'?"
Remy sighs softly, trying to organize his thoughts before he puts them into words. That's always a bad sign, isn't it? "I t'ink .. mebbe .. part of your problem ain't dat you can't use your powers. I t'ink dat it's you're 'fraid to get close. I t'ink you's 'fraid of intimacy." He fiddles with his hands, still inable to meet Rogue's gaze, but his hands are empty and they don't keep him occupied for long. "An' seein' Bel an' all, I got to t'inkin'... Dere wouldn'...I coul' help you. Wit'out havin' to touch your skin. If you wan'. An' mebbe if you get over bein' 'fraid of havin' somebody close, mebbe de rest'll fall into place." He trails off a little; he probably has more to say, but it's clear it's hard enough for Gambit to say what he's said already.
It's just what Rogue was afraid he was going to say, and though she tries her best not to let on, there's a moment there where she begins to very slightly withdraw, a hint of a shadow coming over her face. And then what he actually *said* sinks in, and she blinks. That... was not quite what she'd expected. "Ah don't think Ah quite understand," she admits after a long pause.
He's trying not to be crude, which is just another challange for Remy, and he looks nervously to the side again as if he's really like to sit down. "I mean dat dere're t'ings people can do t'get'er dat don' need skin to touch skin. Intimate t'ings." Gambit pauses again, pushes his fingers through his hair. "If you t'ink you're ready for dose, I'm here. Dat's what I'm tryin' to say. If not...well, still here. Imperfect as I am."
Rogue had been watching Remy's hands rather than risk meeting his eyes, but now surprise and confusion bring her puzzled gaze right up to his face. "...Wait a minute," she says slowly. "Remy... are you suggestin' what Ah *think* you're suggestin'?" Her face is taking on a distinct blush as she says it.
Remy's eyes trail up and to the side, now, almost vaguely embarressed beneath the reluctance. "Prob'ly." He says, quietly. "I...really, I only wan' you t'be happy." And he wants to be the person who *makes* Rogue happy, but that's a little catch he won't voice aloud.
"Well." The word comes out on a breathless little laugh, and Rogue lifts a hand to rake her fingers awkwardly through her hair. "Ah have t'admit, that's one suggestion Ah ain't expected t'hear. Ahh..." She sucks in a deep breath, and blows it back out again. "Ah dunno quite what t'think."
"I didn' 'spect you woul'." Remy says, quietly, before he squints a little at Rogue--not in anger, just amicable scrutiny. "What *did* you 'spect to hear?"
Rogue spreads her hands, offering a sheepish little smile. "Well, we've had conversations that started out kinda like this one before..."
Remy gives a dry, mostly humorless little laugh, his mouth twitching upwards again. "I ain't real fond of breakin' beer bottles wit' my hand or sleepin' in wearhouses, chere." He tells her, shifting his weight and still looking, generally, uncomfortable. "Guess...I jus' got to t'inkin'. 'Bout how I ain't really de man I was when I married de Bel I did marry." That sentence almost got confusing, there, and the Cajun creases his brow as he thinks it out again. "Or how I wasn' a man at all, back den."
It's a serious subject, but somehow, Rogue can't help but laugh a little. "Now y'lost me entirely, darlin'. But s'okay. You an' me both know as well as anyone that folks can change. Maybe... once we get where we're goin', we can talk about it some more."
That's certainly better than getting written off out of hand. Remy smiles a bit more honestly, this time, and nods, bringing in all those vagrant, loose edges to almost come back into focus. "C'est bien. Guess I better get on de horn if we's gonna get outta here b'fore de Guilds let loose on our scent, neh?"
"Yeah." Again, Rogue quirks a lopsided smile. "Havin' them come bustin' in would really kill th'mood." There's a brief pause as she looks back towards the spot where she left her suitcase. "Ah'm 'bout packed... want me t'take care of your stuff while you switch th'tickets, or what?"
"Sho'." It isn't like Rogue will spirit off his underwear or anything--and if she does, she's welcome to it. He'll just buy more. Remy pushes his fingers through his hair again in a brief, choppy motion before he takes a deep breath to settle himself and flashes a smile at Rogue on his way to the phone.
Finis!