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Post by Pyro on Oct 24, 2006 1:38:24 GMT
Oh fuck... ow.
”I’m never drinking again. Ever” John whines into the darkness of the covers for what is neither the first nor the last time as some bastard force drags him out of the blackness and back into the realm of the living. Because that’s what this feels like – just another hangover. Any other suggestion is complete madness...
... except that he’s more awake than usual despite feeling a million times worse. And some things aren’t making sense. Like...
Oh shit. This isn’t his bed.
This is...
Fuck. What is he doing in Rogue’s room?
He bolts upright... a little too quickly, shrinking back with a pitiful moany ”Oww...” followed by a more typically explosive, if a little drained, ”Fuck... We didn’t, right? I mean, we couldn’t.” Definitely not. That would be madness. He’s not sure exactly what he’s convincing himself they didn’t do, but whatever it is, he’s sure they didn’t.
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Post by Rogue on Oct 24, 2006 1:55:47 GMT
”I’m never drinking again. Ever”[/color]
She simply smiles slightly - a smile that is more of a smirk, that doesn't feel right, so she drops it, and resums just watching, and playing with the lighter. Now she almost understands why he's always playing with it - it's addicting. And the fire's simply calling out, wanting to be touched...
He sits up abruptly, then moves back with an ”Oww...”, to which she shakes her head a little, smile - normal smile, this time - returning to her face.
”Fuck... We didn’t, right? I mean, we couldn’t.”[/color]
"Nah, silly. Accidentally touched ya...an' not like tha'." she responds with a slight laugh, snapping the lighter closed and standing, moving to her nightstand, where she keeps a bottle of Tylenol, for when she gets headaches, and digs though the drawer in search of it.
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Post by Pyro on Oct 25, 2006 1:24:39 GMT
"Tylenol is so not going to cut it." Another pathetic moan as he sifts through, before her words really sink in and...
”… okay, what now?”
Considering he’s confused and drained and all sorts of fucked up right now, those three little words are strangely eloquent. She can’t have just said… what he thinks she just said… because there’s no way they’d ever be that reckless … except that this is him, and her, and they so would, just not like that… and in any case that’s not the point… and his head’s spinning and…
”Fuck”
Again, big job for a little word, becoming simultaneously ouch, what the hell did you do, wench? and, probably most importantly where the hell is my lighter?. It’s an odd first concern, true, but understandable, because he thinks he’s more than justified in wanting a little comfort just now and that’s always been the best way to get it…
… oh, right. Yes.
”Clever” he tries to grin, it coming out lopsided and shifting into more of a grimace because owwww ”But a tad extreme, don’t you think? Still, you got what you wanted. Now give it back”
'Course, there are a lot bigger things going on now than the issue of who gets to play with the Zippo, but whatever. It's just John to ignore the big issues in favour of something that trivial, and re-asserting that yes, this is John is suddenly really important for some reason he can't understand. It feels like part of him is missing, or something, but that's just stupid.
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Post by Rogue on Oct 25, 2006 1:43:29 GMT
"Tylenol is so not going to cut it."
She shrugs, and takes some of the white pills out, tossing the bottle back where it belonged. "Nah, but it'll help a li'll, a'leas'...."
”… okay, what now? ...Fuck”[/color]
She snorts slightly. "Y'tried t'help m'up, ended up makin' m'trip - intentionally, 'M bettin'? - an' I wasn' wearin' sleeves....r'memb'r yet?"
”Clever. But a tad extreme, don’t you think? Still, you got what you wanted. Now give it back”[/color]
"Oh yeah, tha's me. I risk killin' m'friend ov'r a light'r..." she rolls her eyes, and sets the pills down on the bed beside him, then moving away. "Not ready t'give it back yet..."
And somehow, thinking about giving it back riles her. Brings up something...defensive? Protective? That's gotta be John, because that's not like her, clinging to an object. She absently fiddles with it, far enough away form him that he won't be able to grab for it - at least, not in this state, she thinks with almost-amusement, before realizing that that's bad, and her fault, nothing to joke about.
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Post by Pyro on Oct 25, 2006 2:14:45 GMT
John glares at the pills, and at her, but knocks them back anyway, grimacing slightly at the bitter medicinal taste and knowing that they’re not going to do any good... because Rogue’s particular brand of freak isn’t really what they’re designed for.
What she’s saying – what little he catches of it, because concentrating seems to be taking a hell of a lot of effort – is vaguely familiar, sure, though he doesn’t actually remember any of it. He wonders whether she stole those memories, wonders what exactly she took from him, because it’s a wierd feeling. Something is definitely missing and he can’t put his finger on it...
... he’d be able to concentrate much better if she gave him the lighter back. For the moment, though, he’s going to have to settle for sitting, and scowling, and watching as she toys with it the way he’s longing to... Exactly the way he’s longing to, actually. There’s something freakishly familiar about her tone as well. Everything about her, actually, seems to be...
No. That’s just silly. No way.
Fuck, he needs something to distract him.
”Fine. Have it your way.” The lighter might well be out of reach, but the flame isn’t. Sod how dangerous this is, given how unstable he is, because it doesn’t take any effort to call a flame over, giving her a childish neener-neener sort of smirk.
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Post by Rogue on Oct 25, 2006 2:24:57 GMT
”Fine. Have it your way.”
She smirks, almost triumphantly, then blinks as the fire shifts, seperates, and it flies towards him, the lighter relighting after a split second. She watches, momentarilly distracted for a moment.
That looks...fun, manipulating the fire like that. She really wants to try it, now, for herself. After a moment, she carefully wills some of the flame still burning on the lighter in her hand to change shape, and it floats into her free hand.
"I think I like y'pow'r..." she murmurs, not looking up, but grinning anyway. There's a candle over on her dresser - she hasn't used it in awhile, but it's there nonetheless. Without much thought, the flame splits into two - one smaller section landing on the candle wick, and then staying there, the rest remaining where it is. She then closes the lighter, so she doesn't waste all the fuel in it, and glances over at John.
"It as fun t'you's it is t'me?"
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Post by Pyro on Oct 25, 2006 3:20:05 GMT
It’s a mark of just how out of it he is that somehow the fact she’s using his power like that isn’t at all freakish but really cool hot as hell just... wow (eh, he’s allowed to be inarticulate, given the circumstances). Somehow it’s easy to settle in to their both being able to play with fire, whereas usually he’d be more than a little pissed off at losing out on the *unique* (which, let’s face it, is all this has going for it; the spectacle and the shock value). Besides, she’s smiling and all, and not trying to tear the room apart (Logan psyche, he assumes…), which sort of officially makes him a positive influence… or something. In any case it’s nice that she’s happy (yes, nice. Because he’s a friend, and he’s concerned, as is only right and proper… and no, it doesn’t matter that it’s him and not Bobby who’s made her smile like that).
”Brilliant, isn’t it?” he grins, twisting the flame he’s playing with up into something halfway between snake and dragon (he’s been thinking, the way he usually does – that is, seizing an idea until something new distracts him – about trying flame animals, because that would be cool… but it’s not that easy), definitely not showing off (course not. Him? Never). He’s almost forgotten that she nearly killed him - mainly because thinking like that is terrifying and transforms her into something other than Rogue – and aside from the nagging lingering hang-over-y quality everything’s just… back to normal, sort of. Only better.
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Post by Rogue on Oct 25, 2006 3:35:38 GMT
”Brilliant, isn’t it?”
"Def'netly."
He's making something - a snake, or a dragon? Dragonsnake? Snakedragon? - and she's still basically holding an almost-formless ball of flame. It's harder than it seems, manipulating it in detailed ways.
She finally manages to get it to something that resembles a creature - though no creature she's ever seen...it's mostly , spherical, in shape, with large, bulging shapes where eyes should be, and...has a beak-like nose, of sorts, but still, looks nothing like a bird, as she'd intended it to. That should be dissappointing, but it's acctually more amusing than anything.
She can feel the sensation of control wearing off. First, it's gradual - the fire losing shape, becoming a simple puddle in her hand. Then it starts to acctually feel hot, not just the pleasant warm, as before. Not burning her, not yet, but she can tell it's getting close. She should really put it out...
And then her glove is on fire.
She bats it out with her other hand, using the last degrees of control she has to extinguish it - something that, oddly, feels almost sad to do, like...kicking a puppy? Nah, not quite like that, but there's a definate pang there. Glancing up, she gives him a sheepish grin.
"Tha' w's fun."
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Post by Pyro on Oct 25, 2006 3:51:08 GMT
”What the hell is that supposed to be?” he grins, watching her efforts (okay, they’re impressive for someone who’s only been doing it five minutes, seeing as how it took him weeks of practice and he’s as near to a *natural* as you’ll get, but damned if he’ll admit that).
At first he puts the increasing shapelessness down to that lack of experience, but even so it doesn’t *feel* right. It’s not something John can ever explain, but controlled flame *feels* totally different (admittedly, the sensation of someone else’s flame is a new one, but it still feels… however it feels. Maybe because it’s still sort of him doing it even when it’s her… or something) and this is…wavering… and melting… and…
Shit. He really should stop being transfixed and do something halfway useful. Closing his fist kills his little snakey-thing and his concentration is trained in on her, subduing the flames (one of the advantages of having spent that much time learning how to go *hands free*, and one he never expected), though their extinguishing has as much to do with her efforts as his (fuck… Shouldn’t be that difficult. Can he exhaust his power? It’s not like he’s had a grounding in *what happens if Rogue touches you* other than this first practical lesson).
”Fuck… you okay?” he asks, somewhat stupidly, though the carefully indifferent concern is sort-of-cute, maybe, despite feeling really stupid given what else they’ve – okay, he’s – survived tonight.
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Post by Rogue on Oct 25, 2006 4:05:18 GMT
”What the hell is that supposed to be?”
"A bird." she responds simply.
When he next speaks, once the fire's out and everything's all normal again, he sounds concerned, and she has to smile at that. Even if he seems to be trying not to sound quite as concerned, it still shows through - moreso than normal, now that she's still got part of him floating about in her mind. Something she decides she's not going to mention, since it's so complicated and crazy and might just freak him out.
”Fuck… you okay?”
She nods, and pulls the singed - okay, burnt - glove off. "Yeah. 'M good." she eyes her hand. It may blister a little, but nothing that's going to bother her too badly, at least not tonight.
The glove, however, is another story. It's obviously seen better days, and may not see any more to come. She tosses it's limp, burnt clothness aside, and moves to the dresser to get a replacement pair - not going to stay barehanded for more than a moment or two, even if his power was fun. It just wouldn't be smart, seeing as what had happened last time.
She moves back towards him, pulling a glove onto her bare hand first, then removing the other and replacing it with the matching one to the burned one's replacement, still holding the lighter, she notes. She'd almost forgotten that, but realizes it now, as it makes putting gloves on harder, having the object in her hand.
"How're y'feelin', though? Any bett'r?" she questions, realizing that, even though they'd both been having fun, seemingly, he had still just beein touched, and knocked out, and still probbrably felt like crap. "Need anythin'?"
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Post by Pyro on Oct 25, 2006 4:15:14 GMT
He half-smiles at the concern evident in her tone, and refrains from making any sarcastic comment because it would spoil the moment and she sure as hell doesn’t need the guilt trip over absorbing someone else. Let her think everything’s okay and sleep in tomorrow sounds like a far better plan than sending her back into crazy-land given how long it’s taken for things to be anything like all right, screw however much his head hurts and his insides feel like jelly…
… besides, if she’s panicked by it (how the hell isn’t she, come to think of it?) then they’re never going to do that again…
Okay, shut up now
He doesn’t know why he’s even thinking that’s an option when it isn’t. No way. Except…
Shut the hell up already. No.
”Y’still got my lighter” John extends one hand, flexes the fingertips in a *give* gesture. She has to give it back now, right? She’s had her fun and he’s feeling crap and… yeah, time to hand it back. Please.
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Post by Rogue on Oct 25, 2006 4:25:14 GMT
For a moment, she's not sure what he's going to say. Hopefully not that his head feels like it's about to fall off, or something. That would be bad.
She hasn't absorbed many people - Cody, Logan, Magneto, and now him - but the majority, up 'till now, had stayed out for longer. Well, she didn't know about Mags - she didn't really remember that part, being a little preoccupied with a certian machine of death she was acting as battery for, but still - Logan had gone comatose, and so had Cody. John'd been lucky, and she doesn't really know what, exactly, he's feeling right now.
”Y’still got my lighter”
Oh, so that's still a priority, is it? So then he can't be feeling all that bad.
"Yep." she responds simply, still standing where she was, now looking at it, not at him, no, because she's conveniently "missing" the gesture he gives, as she flips the lighter open, then closed.
Then open.
Then closed.
She's not really thinking about it - which is acctually more odd than if she was doing this intentionally, because it means that he's effecting her subconcious - like Logan sometimes did, with the smoking and growling at people and stuff..
Clink.
Clink.
This is definetly better than those cigars, though...
Clink...
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Post by Pyro on Oct 25, 2006 5:01:17 GMT
”And… I want it back” he adds in the weird slightly uncertain tone which suggests that the thing said is pretty self-evident and shouldn’t need restating… which of course covers this. He’s not so crass as to say out loud that hell, you pretty much owe me now, but the message is loud and clear anyway; after what she’s done to him, giving is back is the one real course of action that can save her. And twisted though that logic is, he’s sticking to it, because she’s made her point and had a look at it, which is one hell of a big sacrifice for him even without the whole power-sharing thing… and why is he even arguing this? She should give it back. End of.
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Post by Rogue on Oct 25, 2006 5:10:36 GMT
”And… I want it back”[/color]
She snaps the lighter closed, and tilts her head at him. She hadn't dug through his memories, simply because it wasn't right, but she still wanted to know why he was so attatched to the thing. Maybe she should look...no, because then she wouldn't feel right. Bad enough she was going to have to see some of it, later.
And she really should give it back, she reasoned. It wasn't hers - minor technicality of the fact that he's a part of her now aside - and he wanted it back, that should be it, simple as that.
But, then, there's still the mischevious side of her that's curious as to just how long she can hang onto this before he does something about it. Because now her own mischeviousness is boosted by his - or, that's what she's blaming it on, anyway...it's most likely true.
"Now?"
She has a feeling she's getting annoying, now. But, then, this is John. He's done this sort of thing - not nessecarilly holding something of hers hostage, though that's happened a few times too - countless times - it's the whole "almost-sibling" thing they've got going. So, it's not like he'll stay mad.
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Post by Pyro on Oct 25, 2006 5:27:04 GMT
”Well… yeah…. Yes, now.” The tone is still there, only annoyance sort of threatens to take over and is fighting out a bloody battle with a tired okay, enough now sort of whine for pride of place… which means that what comes out sounds a mess, true, but is still clear enough in saying Give. It. Back. Now.
She knows what she's doing... and she's enjoying it, and part of him wonders whether that's her or some part of him taking over before the rest points out that he doesn't care provided whoever it is hands the damn thing over.
It might be a mark of how dead he is, or of their weird relationship, or of nothing in particular, but anyone else he’d have torched by now (hmm.. maybe it’s a mark of how she’s got his lighter? Stupid not-being-able-to-create-flame). Rogue just gets off with a glare, though how long that will last remains to be seen… because he really, really wants it back, and given the choice between begging and torching a close friend? Not going to be pretty.
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