driftfleet | First Bamf

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First Bamf

Who: Kurt Wagner and you!
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: On the Huntress!
When: After the Shuffle! (Pre-Shuffle Marsiva action is also allowable!)

[It's been a whirlwind day for Kurt Wagner. He was emotionally raw from a traumatic event when he woke up in space. Kurt had arrived on the day of the shuffle and had been doing his best to try to keep a low profile. People aren't always the most acceptable of a fuzzy blue mutant who looks like a devil, after all. And he'd managed to pick up the basics, at least, between what encounters he had on the Marsiva, while managing to be lucky enough to avoid the network.

His luck ran out once he was shuffled onto the Huntress. The video feed catches an unsuspecting Kurt Wagner tinkering with his watch and being increasingly frustrated with it as he keeps prodding at it.]

Come onnn.... Why won't it work? Oh man!

[ooc: Of course, if any other new characters want, they can alternately run into him before the Shuffle, anywhere on the Marsiva. Choose your own adventure!]

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[Kurt hears that voice like a dagger through his heart. He looks around, startled, until he sees the face on the video feed. And he speaks with a gasp.]

Rogue?! [He slowly backs away, there's uncertainty and fear in his eyes. The memory is so fresh for him. It felt like just yesterday when he watched her shatter Mystique.

There's a lot to take in at once; she's up here in space, too. She looks so different, but she's definitely her. And something about the way she spoke hurt him in a way he couldn't quite define.

Maybe it was in the way that Rogue seemed to be so contrasted to the last time he saw her, when she released all of that frustration and rage. All of that hate.

But Kurt can't quite process all of that at once. And it's his fear and his worry about her that's overpowering him. And his own anger.]

Y-you... [He speaks uncertainly. He's not sure how that sentence will end. He's still getting used to just the sight of her.]

[...whaaaat is going on with your face, bro? Because that is not happiness to see her, or any kind of remembrance of where they were together, or... anything.

Her expression changes, slides from joy into concerned caution.]

Yeah, me. Are ya okay? When did ya get here?

[Was he there for the attack? What ship was he on? ...why is he looking at her like that?]

[She's still sounding so nice. How could she, after what she's done? Is she really acting like nothing happened?

Finally, he manages to spit back.]

I practically just got here.

But what do you care?

[Rogue blinks, hurt and surprise on her expression.]

What are ya talkin' about? Of course I care.

[...it belatedly occurs to her that Kurt could be from anywhere in any universe. At least he wasn't Michael Darkholme, if he was then... well, he would have never responded to Kurt, and he didn't have the accent, so... but it was possible that he was from a universe where they were enemies, where she was still with the Brotherhood, or if she'd turned down an even worse path.

...it does not yet occur to her that Kurt could be from anywhen.]

Look, what's the last thing ya remember. We might be comin' at this from different angles...

[He pauses for a moment, hesitating. Octavia had talked about different worlds before, and now Rogue's words seem to imply there might be different times at play too.

What if she's from before it all happened... What if she hasn't lost herself yet? ...But then, why does she look so different?

It's enough to make a guy wanna tear out fur in confused frustrations. His expression softens a little, but he otherwise remains tense in general as he stares her reflection down.]

I... I don't know, Rogue. Why don't you tell me?

Tell me about the last time you saw Mystique.

[He had managed to not say "our mother". He tried to stay neutral, but some tension and some bitterness seeped into his tone. If she really was from the past, he was ready to apologize. But if not...

Well, her answer to this question could tell it all.]

[...oh.

And Rogue felt a wound she'd thought had scarred over reopen and run red.

And the ground she'd tried to earn, bit by bit, splintered under her feet.

And she leaned forward to the small picture the communicator allowed and confirmed -- yes, he was so much younger.

She almost didn't need to answer his question, but she would, she knew she would. He deserved that from her. He deserved... anything he wanted. The answer was in her expression, the pained way her brows arched together, the tension in her eyes, the way her skin grew more pale.

Except she was angry as well. Angry that she had to face this again, like this. Angry and guilty -- yes, guilty, she knew what she did was wrong, she was sorry she'd hurt him. She wasn't sorry Mystique was dead. She was sorry she was the one who'd done it. She wished she was a better person. She wasn't.

She wasn't.]

Ya mean before she took my mind an' served it up like a platter ta unleash Apocalypse? Or after, when she was stone?

[The quick flare of anger died down and left ashes in its wake, ashes and loss.] I'm sorry.

[Simple, heartfelt, and raw.

All she had to offer.]

[Her first words are more like what had expected. They sting and hurt, and they're full of the hate that shattered her. Hurt and anger flare in Kurt's eyes as he looks on. He understands that Mystique was a horrible person and a toxic influence. But he still doesn't think that anything could excuse what was done to her. Especially when it's still so fresh in his mind.

The sorry... something about the way she says it haunts him. But what he saw is so raw in his mind in its own way, that he can't face that right now. The hurt and the anger at what happened are just too strong in him, and he doesn't know what to say but then he just snaps back.]

You pushed her! That's what happened. That's the last thing I remember! And you're just... here, like nothing happened!

[That was the last thing he remembered.

Oh. That was--

Life is pain, highness. Anyone who tells you differently is selling something.

--unfair. It was just unfair, and no movie line philosophy was going to make her feel any more calmly about this.

Like nothing happened.

Was that what he really thought?

Rogue shut her eyes, pained. Kurt's psyche in her mind was also agitated - he had been through this process once already, and his remembered pain and loss only added to the guilt Rogue felt as well as his acceptance of her, regardless of what she did, added to her sense of just how unfair this was.

You're not a child, Rogue. Who cares if it's unfair? Deal with it.]

No. Not like nothin' happened.

[She opened her eyes, her control cracking at the corners, pain and guilt and anger and guilt and pain showing in dozens of tiny different ways.] That was six years ago for me, nearly. But not like nothin' happened. Never like that.

[He doesn't feel any doubt at all about the truth of Rogue's emotions. They're so real and so vivid... but even beyond that, they're all so over the place that it's frightening. She looks like she's going to snap, and Kurt winces in fear for a moment, as if forgetting the screen that separated them.

But his hands ball into three-fingered fists at his side as he finds the strength to speak.]

...Yah. It'll never be like that for me, either. I think that's the last thing we have in common.

I- [He hesitates and stammers, still reeling from everything. Six years. Six years? How much could she have changed in all of that time? But at the same time, all those years feel inconsequential next to that one consequential moment that started it all.] I thought I knew you. But nothing's going to be the same again, is it.

[Rogue was looking right at him. She was looking right at him and she saw him flinch.

...the last thing they had in common.

Did he even -- did he even hear himself? Did he even see?

Part of her knew that it was unreasonable to expect Kurt to see. He - this had just happened to him, after all. He was still reeling in pain and shock (over a woman he'd barely met, a woman who'd tried to blow up their house with their friends still inside it, a woman who had lied to her, manipulated her, used her, and had done so from the very beginning of her life... a woman who the best thing she had ever done for Kurt was to abandon him. He was furious with her over the loss of this woman, his birth mother, and remained blind to what it was that he has asked her. She'd told him, she'd warned him... She wished she was better. She wasn't better. She was her mother's daughter.) She should be understanding. She should apologize again. She should try to make it up to him, try to explain.

The rest of her was a screaming white wall of pain.

The last thing they had in common. Nothing will ever be the same again.

I thought I knew you.

Rogue drew in a ragged breath.]

I reckon that depends. [Of course things couldn't be the same, how could they be the same -- they had been better, broken and beautiful and mending with a true understanding of each other. But she couldn't tell him that, couldn't bare the thought of platitudes.] I can't make excuses for what happened. I know ya don't wanna hear it now, but I am sorry, Kurt. I'm truly sorry.

[She shut her eyes for a moment and took a breath again, a breath, almost a sob, a gasp for some hope or light or - something, please, something...

But all she had was air.]

Listen, I'm on the Vanquish. I ain't gonna - try an' press ya. But if ya ever wanna talk, or if ya need anythin'... I'll be there.

[She needed to get away from this conversation. Needed to either see him in person or -- not see him at all. If she hadn't felt the urge to escape so strongly, maybe she would have been less clumsy with her words -- after all, the last thing he remembered was her failing him when he needed her. It had been nearly six years for her - six years of having each other's back. How to go back to this? She needed to get away from this conversation.]

[Rogue being nice is now about as unsettling as her anger, in its own way. It twists at his heart, from how calmly she speaks to how she reaches out to him. It reminds him a lot of his sister.

But it can't be. He lost her; he knows it. They both know what she's done, and that it can't be undone. She shattered his mother when she was in a defenseless state, a blank slate. Any chance at making things better or finding the answers he wanted to badly were gone with her. And so were the chances of being a family.

Rogue had already give in to the one thing that he feared. No, two. She killed Mystique, and she gave in to hatred.

Uncertainty still shimmers in his eyes for a moment as he looks towards her. But then, he focuses himself once again and shakes his head.]

Y-you won't have to worry about that. Just look out for yourself. [He's not even sure if he means that spitefully or sincerely. Or maybe even both. But he's done with this. It feels like his heart is breaking anew every other moment, and he needs to get away from this.

So with that, a BAMF sounds. And a cloud of smoke is left occupying the video feed instead.]

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First Bamf

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