Marius Laverne (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
xp_emplate) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
xp_logs2024-02-01 01:23 pm
xp_emplate) wrote in xp_logs2024-02-01 01:23 pm
Entry tags:
Rogue, Marius: Call of the open road
Rogue takes Marius for a drive. Philosophical discussion is had . . . almost.
"I really should get around to seeing to a new wardrobe," said Marius, running a finger beneath the cuff of the offending accessory. "Any recommendations where I might be able to find a good sport glove? My palms being as they are I'm a bit particular about the lining, but at the very least something fingerless would hold me over til I can have something made. My skin cries out for ventilation."
"That is a very hilarious sentence and I'm trying not to laugh and be serious as I absolutely know what you mean." She was wearing her own gloves, but they were lacy and comfortable and let her have a firm grip on the wheel without causing dreaded sweaty palm. It was a beautiful day for a drive, now that the storms seemed to be abating. The sun was shining, she was able to have the window down a little bit without freezing to death, and there was classic rock on the radio. The fact that they could speak in French, giving her the chance to practice was just another cherry on the top. "I thought you had people to make these things for you, no? I mean, honestly, if you're wanting sport gloves AND ventilation, have you thought of golf gloves? They're usually leather and they have holes in them for grippy factors. Or something. I don't know, you're the rich person, isn't golfing something you do?"
"Only if I'm trying to extract a charitable donation. Remarkable how generous certain individuals become in the appropriate environment. But yes, I've tried them all. Golf gloves, cycling gloves, driving gloves, weight lifting gloves, tactical gloves when I've a burning desire to look insecure . . . used to be I could get away with rugby gloves, but alas, this would no longer serve once fundraising became a part of my life." The Australian checked his hair in the side mirror and brushed back a curl. "It would only be to tide me over whilst awaiting a few custom orders. I hope I don't seem to be the type of individual who would go off-the-rack for his sex gloves."
Rogue shook her head, horrified. "Oh you can't go off-the-rack for any sex gear. I have to make sure that there is absolutely no exposed skin for me, and when there is ... well, there's a reason Logan has a permanent residency in my head." She gave a bit of a grin. "And honestly, Marius. Let's be real. You're not actually asking me, the world's cheapest person ever, about where to get decent gloves? I ordered these off of Temu." She waggled her fingers at him before putting them back on the wheel to tap along to the beat of Queen. "I figure if they're radioactive, they won't kill me... but now that I'm thinking about it, sex gear would probably do what you want for now. No one would actually have to know what it's for and I think we're probably the only two that have to wear clothing when we want to get naked anyways."
Marius waved off the suggestion. "Rubber breathes not at all, alas, and powder collects in the mouths to become quite an unpleasant slurry. I suppose I must suffer. Shopping Temu, though -- Rogue, this news is genuinely devastating. I had no idea you were in such dire straits. Please, allow me to purchase you something of quality. Consider it a token of my thanks for manhandling a small child on my behalf. Or, if not that, a concession to my horror that a woman of your beauty should profane her body with such poor stitching."
"I'm not saying you should wear latex, sugar but suffering is suffering, and we do what we need to do," she chuckled, amused at how horrified he was regarding Temu. "Y'all ain't gotta buy me nothing on account of the little Hopester. She's sweet, just really really confused right now. Honestly, she's harmless. Most nights, she curls up in my bed like a little kitty and we go to sleep like that. It's sweet... I think she'd actually be mad I told you this, so shhhh." She glanced over at him and gave a wink. "I've got lots of quality gloves too, real nice fancy silk ones. Logan brought me back some from a Japan trip once, long opera gloves too. Don't know where he found them, and honestly, don't ask. They're so soft... I just wear these crappy pairs for when I'm out in public."
There was a slight pause, and maybe a little hitch to her voice when she started talking again. "I...can kinda control my powers now. Not for long, and not always. If I'm drunk or sleepy, or just basically out of it, it's still pretty hard but if I concentrate, I can go without gloves no problem. I just...still wear them. I dunno. Like a safety blanket I guess. Been too many years that I had to rely on them, y'know?"
"Makes perfect sense to me. No point in tempting fate, eh?" Marius had propped an elbow against the door as he toyed absently with his hair, and was suddenly acutely aware of the brush of leather against his temple. His tone was still casual, but he flicked his amber eyes to look at the older woman. "I can check the latch reflex should I truly exert myself, but it's like holding back a blink, right? I try to hold it too long, or I'm startled . . . no. Safer to simply not put myself in that position at all." He dropped his hand and turned to gaze out the window, studying the passing landscape beyond. "You remember what it was like, not having to think about it?"
That caused another hitch and a sudden lump in her throat that she had to clear before she could speak again. "I really don't like remembering that... what it felt like to just ... exist. Live." She sighed. "But yes. I do remember it. I remember my last night before my powers manifested. Being in love, going on a date with Cody, holding hands and making plans..." Rogue inhaled deeply and let out a shaky breath. "It was nice, you know? And I think that's why I cling to Logan still sometimes. We're ... I dunno. Complicated? We're together when we're together, and when he's not around, he's not around. But I can just let go with him. If my skin pulls too deep, no big deal, he's got that healing factor, y'know? We can cuddle -- and yes, Wolverine cuddles, another secret you better keep -- and it's safe. I feel safe. I feel like I'm 16 again and I had dreams of babies..." She snorted a little. "Can you imagine? I used to think that I'd get married, and have all these kids, and just be a mom... not like I could anyways. Pretty sure my body would absorb anything faster than it could be made. Had to make peace with a lot of things, my friend... what about you? You don't have to share if you don't wanna."
"Ah, I've not had it nearly as bad as all that. There were a few good years where I could shake hands without leaving a hickey. Must've been seven, eight, perhaps? Then that mission in Slorenia . . . well." The Australian gave an easy shrug. "When I look at it honestly, a bit of a relapse was a small price to pay for Scott's eyes and Fred's face. It was only cosmetic, really. Then it was happy retirement and eight more years of health til the transplant failed, too." Marius turned away from the window and gave Rogue a smile. "Funny, that. We were both sixteen when things went sideways on us. However, as you say, you make peace with a lot of things. I try to remind myself it was more than some get."
A perfectly arched brow went up along with a quick snort. "If you wanna lie to yourself and say happy retirement and small price to pay and all those things, go for it, sugar. I ain't your therapist. Just I know that it's not what you're saying. 16 years, yah but how many of them did you appreciate ? But I ain't here to push. I just wanna go for a drive with an old friend since who knows when I'll leave. I think in a couple of weeks probably. Go back to Canada, drink real beer."
Rogue's perfectly arched single brow was countered by the rise of two less defined by superiorly dramatic brows of his own. "Did I say I wasn't appreciative?" Marius asked, placing a hand across his chest in mock-offence. "I did some good in those years. A bit in the field, and rather more outside of it. Besides, things might be looking up. Since my ignoble return my blood counts have been holding steady. If I had to endure forcible induction into a doomsday cult I can't say I'd mind a clean bill of health as compensation. Still need a bit more time to make a determination there, however, so I suppose it'll be a few more weeks for me as well. In the meantime" he flashed Rogue another smile, "there are fates far worse than the aforementioned drive with an old friend."
"Old. You might be old. I'll be young forever." Which was partly true. She wasn't sure if she was aging the way she thought she would. Other than the streaks in her hair, she'd barely found any other white, and there weren't as many wrinkles as she expected. It probably had something to do with the way her powers worked. "Or at least mentally." Another song on the radio, this time Supertramp and Rogue leaned over to turn it up a little bit. "This kind of music always makes me so happy. I remember my daddy playing it in the kitchen, while he made something to eat. My mama, bless her soul, didn't really know how to cook. Guess I take after her." She paused for a little bit, humming along. "Weird though, how I think of Canada when I think of going home. Or ...here, I guess. Not Mississippi though. Been a long time since that felt like home. I don't even know when's the last time I went back."
Marius considered this.
"I have a theory to that point," he said, "but I feel it would earn me a smack."
Rogue looked at him curiously. "Well now you have to tell me, but I swear, if I smack you it's because you deserve it."
"As a standard this is manifestly unfair; it is well known I am always in need of a smack. However, if you insist, and please understand I say this with respect and no small amount of admiration . . ." Marius spread his hands in apology. "You do contain rather a lot of Canadians."
She opened her mouth to respond, closed it, opened it again, closed it again, and furrowed her brow as she tried to think of an answer back. It wasn't happening. "Goddamnit, Marius," she said with a quick shake of her head. "Way to give me an existential crisis. Here I thought it was because I've probably lived there more than here and it's where I always run to when I am just done with people and life and responsibility ... and now you gotta go and say that? Thanks." She thought again for a moment before suddenly smacking him on the thigh. "It's hard enough know what's my own likes and dislikes and now this? Blah."
The Australian rubbed at his leg with exaggerated theatricality. "I did say it would earn me a smack. But your powers being as they are, seemed as if the addition of other people's nostalgia might contribute to all the actual lived experience." He smoothed the nonexistent wrinkles from his trouser leg and settled back again.
"I'm a bit of the reverse. For all the time I spent here this place never felt quite real to me, likely due to the paramilitary training and occasional kidnapping. Reality was back in Brisbane. The mutant shite wasn't supposed to . . ." Marius caught himself, then shrugged. "Perhaps it simply made me feel better to imagine some manner of delineation between the two."
"It is a kinda weird life, Mansion life. We live here and suddenly, we save the world. We live somewhere else and the world keeps going." She gave a shrug. "We all need to compartmentalize however we can. It's how our brains make sense of the world. Patterns. Gestalt theories. It's annoying how easy it is to do it and how hard it is to fight against our natural inclinations." Rogue gave a little bit of a sigh and a smile. "As much as this expression annoys me, it is...what it is. We were never meant to be ordinary, my friend. We were meant to be extraordinary and that comes with a lot."
Perceiving the risk of this current course, Marius steered away from the siren song of self-pity and towards the calmer waters of good-natured frivolity, which also had the benefit of requiring far less thought. "Extraordinary, eh?" he said, waggling his eyebrows. "I suppose we do have that in common. Deadly on the field of battle and, of course, attractive to a frankly upsetting degree."
"You know it, sugar," she responded with a laugh. Almost instantly, some tension came out of her shoulders, and made her feel better. "At the risk of sounding like Zoolander, we are ridiculously good looking human beings."
"You, for self-evident reasons, could certainly claim the qualities of Blue Steel. I myself am more of a Smoulder -- that is to say, rather more smoke than substance. Do not protest," Marius said, raising a quieting hand, "I am a man comfortable with his limits, particularly in such esteemed company."
"Okay, well as long as you don't use that smoulder in devious ways around me, I'll allow it."
"Ah, Rogue. Once again I am asked the impossible." Marius grinned, and while the expression was not without its charms it was, undeniably, unserious. Precisely how he preferred things to be.
"After all, whom amongst us could do anything but burn for you?"
"I really should get around to seeing to a new wardrobe," said Marius, running a finger beneath the cuff of the offending accessory. "Any recommendations where I might be able to find a good sport glove? My palms being as they are I'm a bit particular about the lining, but at the very least something fingerless would hold me over til I can have something made. My skin cries out for ventilation."
"That is a very hilarious sentence and I'm trying not to laugh and be serious as I absolutely know what you mean." She was wearing her own gloves, but they were lacy and comfortable and let her have a firm grip on the wheel without causing dreaded sweaty palm. It was a beautiful day for a drive, now that the storms seemed to be abating. The sun was shining, she was able to have the window down a little bit without freezing to death, and there was classic rock on the radio. The fact that they could speak in French, giving her the chance to practice was just another cherry on the top. "I thought you had people to make these things for you, no? I mean, honestly, if you're wanting sport gloves AND ventilation, have you thought of golf gloves? They're usually leather and they have holes in them for grippy factors. Or something. I don't know, you're the rich person, isn't golfing something you do?"
"Only if I'm trying to extract a charitable donation. Remarkable how generous certain individuals become in the appropriate environment. But yes, I've tried them all. Golf gloves, cycling gloves, driving gloves, weight lifting gloves, tactical gloves when I've a burning desire to look insecure . . . used to be I could get away with rugby gloves, but alas, this would no longer serve once fundraising became a part of my life." The Australian checked his hair in the side mirror and brushed back a curl. "It would only be to tide me over whilst awaiting a few custom orders. I hope I don't seem to be the type of individual who would go off-the-rack for his sex gloves."
Rogue shook her head, horrified. "Oh you can't go off-the-rack for any sex gear. I have to make sure that there is absolutely no exposed skin for me, and when there is ... well, there's a reason Logan has a permanent residency in my head." She gave a bit of a grin. "And honestly, Marius. Let's be real. You're not actually asking me, the world's cheapest person ever, about where to get decent gloves? I ordered these off of Temu." She waggled her fingers at him before putting them back on the wheel to tap along to the beat of Queen. "I figure if they're radioactive, they won't kill me... but now that I'm thinking about it, sex gear would probably do what you want for now. No one would actually have to know what it's for and I think we're probably the only two that have to wear clothing when we want to get naked anyways."
Marius waved off the suggestion. "Rubber breathes not at all, alas, and powder collects in the mouths to become quite an unpleasant slurry. I suppose I must suffer. Shopping Temu, though -- Rogue, this news is genuinely devastating. I had no idea you were in such dire straits. Please, allow me to purchase you something of quality. Consider it a token of my thanks for manhandling a small child on my behalf. Or, if not that, a concession to my horror that a woman of your beauty should profane her body with such poor stitching."
"I'm not saying you should wear latex, sugar but suffering is suffering, and we do what we need to do," she chuckled, amused at how horrified he was regarding Temu. "Y'all ain't gotta buy me nothing on account of the little Hopester. She's sweet, just really really confused right now. Honestly, she's harmless. Most nights, she curls up in my bed like a little kitty and we go to sleep like that. It's sweet... I think she'd actually be mad I told you this, so shhhh." She glanced over at him and gave a wink. "I've got lots of quality gloves too, real nice fancy silk ones. Logan brought me back some from a Japan trip once, long opera gloves too. Don't know where he found them, and honestly, don't ask. They're so soft... I just wear these crappy pairs for when I'm out in public."
There was a slight pause, and maybe a little hitch to her voice when she started talking again. "I...can kinda control my powers now. Not for long, and not always. If I'm drunk or sleepy, or just basically out of it, it's still pretty hard but if I concentrate, I can go without gloves no problem. I just...still wear them. I dunno. Like a safety blanket I guess. Been too many years that I had to rely on them, y'know?"
"Makes perfect sense to me. No point in tempting fate, eh?" Marius had propped an elbow against the door as he toyed absently with his hair, and was suddenly acutely aware of the brush of leather against his temple. His tone was still casual, but he flicked his amber eyes to look at the older woman. "I can check the latch reflex should I truly exert myself, but it's like holding back a blink, right? I try to hold it too long, or I'm startled . . . no. Safer to simply not put myself in that position at all." He dropped his hand and turned to gaze out the window, studying the passing landscape beyond. "You remember what it was like, not having to think about it?"
That caused another hitch and a sudden lump in her throat that she had to clear before she could speak again. "I really don't like remembering that... what it felt like to just ... exist. Live." She sighed. "But yes. I do remember it. I remember my last night before my powers manifested. Being in love, going on a date with Cody, holding hands and making plans..." Rogue inhaled deeply and let out a shaky breath. "It was nice, you know? And I think that's why I cling to Logan still sometimes. We're ... I dunno. Complicated? We're together when we're together, and when he's not around, he's not around. But I can just let go with him. If my skin pulls too deep, no big deal, he's got that healing factor, y'know? We can cuddle -- and yes, Wolverine cuddles, another secret you better keep -- and it's safe. I feel safe. I feel like I'm 16 again and I had dreams of babies..." She snorted a little. "Can you imagine? I used to think that I'd get married, and have all these kids, and just be a mom... not like I could anyways. Pretty sure my body would absorb anything faster than it could be made. Had to make peace with a lot of things, my friend... what about you? You don't have to share if you don't wanna."
"Ah, I've not had it nearly as bad as all that. There were a few good years where I could shake hands without leaving a hickey. Must've been seven, eight, perhaps? Then that mission in Slorenia . . . well." The Australian gave an easy shrug. "When I look at it honestly, a bit of a relapse was a small price to pay for Scott's eyes and Fred's face. It was only cosmetic, really. Then it was happy retirement and eight more years of health til the transplant failed, too." Marius turned away from the window and gave Rogue a smile. "Funny, that. We were both sixteen when things went sideways on us. However, as you say, you make peace with a lot of things. I try to remind myself it was more than some get."
A perfectly arched brow went up along with a quick snort. "If you wanna lie to yourself and say happy retirement and small price to pay and all those things, go for it, sugar. I ain't your therapist. Just I know that it's not what you're saying. 16 years, yah but how many of them did you appreciate ? But I ain't here to push. I just wanna go for a drive with an old friend since who knows when I'll leave. I think in a couple of weeks probably. Go back to Canada, drink real beer."
Rogue's perfectly arched single brow was countered by the rise of two less defined by superiorly dramatic brows of his own. "Did I say I wasn't appreciative?" Marius asked, placing a hand across his chest in mock-offence. "I did some good in those years. A bit in the field, and rather more outside of it. Besides, things might be looking up. Since my ignoble return my blood counts have been holding steady. If I had to endure forcible induction into a doomsday cult I can't say I'd mind a clean bill of health as compensation. Still need a bit more time to make a determination there, however, so I suppose it'll be a few more weeks for me as well. In the meantime" he flashed Rogue another smile, "there are fates far worse than the aforementioned drive with an old friend."
"Old. You might be old. I'll be young forever." Which was partly true. She wasn't sure if she was aging the way she thought she would. Other than the streaks in her hair, she'd barely found any other white, and there weren't as many wrinkles as she expected. It probably had something to do with the way her powers worked. "Or at least mentally." Another song on the radio, this time Supertramp and Rogue leaned over to turn it up a little bit. "This kind of music always makes me so happy. I remember my daddy playing it in the kitchen, while he made something to eat. My mama, bless her soul, didn't really know how to cook. Guess I take after her." She paused for a little bit, humming along. "Weird though, how I think of Canada when I think of going home. Or ...here, I guess. Not Mississippi though. Been a long time since that felt like home. I don't even know when's the last time I went back."
Marius considered this.
"I have a theory to that point," he said, "but I feel it would earn me a smack."
Rogue looked at him curiously. "Well now you have to tell me, but I swear, if I smack you it's because you deserve it."
"As a standard this is manifestly unfair; it is well known I am always in need of a smack. However, if you insist, and please understand I say this with respect and no small amount of admiration . . ." Marius spread his hands in apology. "You do contain rather a lot of Canadians."
She opened her mouth to respond, closed it, opened it again, closed it again, and furrowed her brow as she tried to think of an answer back. It wasn't happening. "Goddamnit, Marius," she said with a quick shake of her head. "Way to give me an existential crisis. Here I thought it was because I've probably lived there more than here and it's where I always run to when I am just done with people and life and responsibility ... and now you gotta go and say that? Thanks." She thought again for a moment before suddenly smacking him on the thigh. "It's hard enough know what's my own likes and dislikes and now this? Blah."
The Australian rubbed at his leg with exaggerated theatricality. "I did say it would earn me a smack. But your powers being as they are, seemed as if the addition of other people's nostalgia might contribute to all the actual lived experience." He smoothed the nonexistent wrinkles from his trouser leg and settled back again.
"I'm a bit of the reverse. For all the time I spent here this place never felt quite real to me, likely due to the paramilitary training and occasional kidnapping. Reality was back in Brisbane. The mutant shite wasn't supposed to . . ." Marius caught himself, then shrugged. "Perhaps it simply made me feel better to imagine some manner of delineation between the two."
"It is a kinda weird life, Mansion life. We live here and suddenly, we save the world. We live somewhere else and the world keeps going." She gave a shrug. "We all need to compartmentalize however we can. It's how our brains make sense of the world. Patterns. Gestalt theories. It's annoying how easy it is to do it and how hard it is to fight against our natural inclinations." Rogue gave a little bit of a sigh and a smile. "As much as this expression annoys me, it is...what it is. We were never meant to be ordinary, my friend. We were meant to be extraordinary and that comes with a lot."
Perceiving the risk of this current course, Marius steered away from the siren song of self-pity and towards the calmer waters of good-natured frivolity, which also had the benefit of requiring far less thought. "Extraordinary, eh?" he said, waggling his eyebrows. "I suppose we do have that in common. Deadly on the field of battle and, of course, attractive to a frankly upsetting degree."
"You know it, sugar," she responded with a laugh. Almost instantly, some tension came out of her shoulders, and made her feel better. "At the risk of sounding like Zoolander, we are ridiculously good looking human beings."
"You, for self-evident reasons, could certainly claim the qualities of Blue Steel. I myself am more of a Smoulder -- that is to say, rather more smoke than substance. Do not protest," Marius said, raising a quieting hand, "I am a man comfortable with his limits, particularly in such esteemed company."
"Okay, well as long as you don't use that smoulder in devious ways around me, I'll allow it."
"Ah, Rogue. Once again I am asked the impossible." Marius grinned, and while the expression was not without its charms it was, undeniably, unserious. Precisely how he preferred things to be.
"After all, whom amongst us could do anything but burn for you?"
no subject