driftfleet | ...And also these.

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...And also these.

[ Calibration Rooms ]
( for N-Z characters )

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ROOMS BY CHARACTER

N - Q

Nami

Nux

One

Phèdre nó Delaunay
de Montrève

R - U

R. Daneel Olivaw

Rapunzel

Remy LeBeau

Riku

Robin Redbreast

Rogue

Santanico Pandemonium

Shawn Hunter

Stefan (Alesci) Salvatore

Steve "Orion" Rogers

Steven Quartz Universe

Souji Seta

Stiles Stilinski

Syeira

Tadashi Hamada

Tekhetsio

V - Z

Wrath

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Rogue. Mind takin' a step back? [It was one thing to let people wander around, pick at pieces of his past he wasn't happy to be on display but was willing to be seen in comparison, but he was going to guard that barrier.]

[Well... yes and no, really. There were people in that window outside, and it looked like they needed help or... something.

Great. This was just... great.

Quietly, holding that glowing gaze, Rogue did exactly that.]

Thank ya. [Moving off the bed to stand, Remy stepped around it, moving through the invisible barrier with no issue yet it still warped and moved around him, creating a ripple and disturbing the appearance of the room as he passed through it.]

What's the matter cherie, look like ya seen a ghost.

I don't like your mask.

[Watching him, wanting, almost, to slap that endearment that was more of an en--far--ment right out of his head.]

What, don't think it suits me? Ya should be use to it, I wear it all the time. [It was safe inside, it was comfortable, it was normal.]

Make yaself at home, I guess. Not like there another option.

[She gave him a long look.

He really, really doesn't want me here.

So she turned around and headed straight back to the door from which she'd entered. And she knocked. Three times. Hey, worth a shot.]

[It certainly was worth a go, yet it didn't help as the door stayed close and refused to open to her as much as it had for him when he first tried it. Not the worse prisons to be stuck in, provided they stayed on the better half of it.]

Looks like ya stuck with me. [He took a seat on the end of his bed, leaning back on his hands.] Can try 'nd cover m' face if it really had hard to look at.

[Scowling a little as she stared at the door, not really appreciating his joke either.

She was just... uncomfortable. She didn't like being in places where she wasn't wanted, and she didn't like getting information about people like this.

Rogue turned around, crossed her arms, and leaned back against the door. She fixed him with a level look.]

Yeah? What'll ya do, put a sheet on so ya can be a proper ghost?

Weeellll, [He drew out the word with a slight tilt to his head, the mask covering up his real expression below it.] I could do this 'nstead, [Using his thumb, Remy levered the edge of the mask up an inch without thinking. If it was someone else, no, he wouldn't had even considered it, but for Rogue... Hell, he had seen her broken, she had seen him torn, he knew there would be no real consequence to this, not like with someone else.

As the mask lifted a trail of blood started, flowing down his throat to his shirt, and the more he lifted the mask the greater the flow became, joining up with new ones as it pooled down his form. Moving his thumb the mask snapped back into place, the blood stopped and any that was on his person faded out of existence.] But it makes a bit of a mess.

[...that's not creepy.

Or heartbreaking.

She didn't have to have graduated from high school to get that kind of symbolism: Under the mask, Remy was bleeding. Under the mask, Remy was hurting.

She moved, pushing off the door to go sit by him on the bed, a respectable, but not paranoid, distance between them.]

It's your head. Ya don't have ta do anythin' you don't wanna do.

That be 'ssumin' I can ever control what be goin' on in my own mind, non? [That mask turned to look at her, a visible crack appearing above the left eye and having made its way down to the top of the eye socket. He twisted his head back away, considering her reaction to it so far and not wanting to make it any creepier for her.] Ya know what it's like Rogue, havin' that shield up to keep others out 'nd right here I don't have that option.

So, [It was said after a long intake of breath, the crack rehealing half way up as he centered himself,] May as well make the most of it while we be here. [Then nodded his head to the beads she almost touched.] I promise, ya will like those beads.

[Her brow furrowed as she looked at him, looked at that crack in his mask.

She did know what it was like. And that was why she didn't move.

Quiet:] Ya don't have ta put on a show for me. I can just sit here.

Yeah but 'm goin' to go crazy if we do nothin', plus I do really thing ya would like that, I know I do. [He looked over his shoulder at the beads, and that corner of the room.] Some of my better memories.

Hell, out of everyone we got stuck here, ya really be the only one I would even consider it ok to be in here. [Another crack, near his jaw, but smaller and finer than the last one.] Only fair since ya had me in ya head before. Nothin' ya can do to hurt me here Rogue, it's all in my past.

[Now Rogue knew that wasn't true. The past was plenty painful. Still, if he wanted to share something with her, she wasn't going to say no... especially if it kept cracking his mask like that. Granted, she'd never got that high school diploma, but some symbolism was kind of... blatant.]

...alright, I'll go check it out.

[Standing, Rogue walked over to the beads, glancing back at him to make sure he didn't change his mind before she reached out to take hold of them.]

[Closing her fingers around the beads allows the room to vanish from her point of view, quickly fading out yet the feeling of the beads stays in hand. The air holds the same weight to it as it did in the room, thick and humid, the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke in the air, yet also the coolness that only comes with night descending.

A street comes into view, busy with people as they mill around, laughing, drinking, and celebrating as if there was no tomorrow. Yet for Rogue, as these were Remy's memories, there was no claustrophobia as there would be normally for her, no fear of that contact of those bumping into her, and even having to put up with the random stranger reaching out for a hug or a kiss as they pass by, typically pushed along by their friends.

Everything is bright and sparkling, a lot of the crowd dressed in costumes, buildings decked out in decorations, more beads been thrown from ornamental floats as they drive down the road. There is a vibrant pulse beating through the city, the sounds of jazz flowing from nearby bars as people mill in and out of them. A sensation of love for this city, for all its dark and shady corners, for all its grime and hidden terrors, this was the true side of New Orleans. Celebration, fun, people coming together. It was home, and there was no better time of the year than this.]

[Rogue experienced those memories with a rush of living color. If there was one thing she liked about Remy's memories, it was the way he lived life, the way he accepted and acknowledged its brevity and sought to experience it.

He was right -- this was a good memory. She wondered what it was like to feel so connected to a place, to be able to call it home like this...

She turned and gave him a smile]

You're right. That is a good memory.

Do know what 'm talkin' 'bout now 'nd then. Not often, but sometimes. [Ok, yes, it was good to see that smile after he had taken the chance on opening up and giving her permission to seek out his memories.

At least that one, and Remy realized he owed her an apology.] Sorry for snappin' at ya before, didn' mean to. It just be that, [The mask turned to the invisible barrier.] That... donno what ya will think once ya see it. [What she would think about him.]

No apology necessary. We're all entitled to our past, ta our privacy. [Simple, quiet, with all her conviction. Strange, perhaps, from someone whose very skin leeched that away from anyone she touched. Or perhaps not so strange, considering how much she revealed about the past of those she absorbed... which was nothing at all.

...though there was something strange about what he was saying -- almost as if he cared what she'd think. And she did care, she found, staring at him imprisoned with that mockery of a mask. She didn't want that for him. She knew that Remy LeBeau was more than this.

So she took a step forward toward him, just one, in a bid for his attention.] Although I will say... when ya got somethin' there that's this big, somethin' that's ridin' you... seems ta me that it ain't just in your past.

I know. [Remy knew that all too well despite his earlier words. How his past haunted him and there was no real way to escape it, only to shove it away and make it invisible from view.] Ain't that easy, cherie.

[Then an idea spawned in his brain, a stupid one, a horrible one, but, who knew, maybe something good would come from it. Or he could completely drive her away. Was it really worth the risk? A look to her, a glance back over his shoulder at her through the eye holes of his mask, as if to judge her and see if this was worth it. Remy then stood, before he could talk himself out of it, and held out a hand to her.] Won't make ya, 'nd won't lie, it ain't pretty in there, but... [Before his words trailed off, not sure what he was really asking her to do.]

[...but if he was going to take a chance, if he was going to even risk removing that mask a little, then Rogue was only going to hesitate long enough to see if he meant it before placing her hand in his.]

It's alright. I don't need ta see pretty. [She gave him a brief smile.] I'd rather have true.

Yeah, keep thinkin' that. [Unlike with her the barrier gave no resistance to Remy, he able to pass through it with a slight shimmer that caused the 'room' behind it to flex and warp before he vanished, yet his grip still stayed until she had followed him through to the other side.

And then he was gone.]

[...okay, a little eerie to just have him vanish like that.

And then the fear hit, sharp like a penny in the mouth, like the taste of blood, but curling over her in waves as relentless as the ones pounding the... well, what Rogue assumed was the bottom of a cliff.

It was dark here, and she glanced around trying to get her bearings, trying to think, as she had been trained, passed the cringing of her stomach and the racing of her heart. It was loud here.

And... and that was not a good smell. Where was it coming from, the smell of blood and gore? What had happened here?

Swallowing, Rogue first approached the cliff to glance down into - nothing - and when being near the edge actually caused her fear to heighten she turned around and called:] Remy?

[Regardless of whether or not she receives a response, there is only one way open to her and she takes it - starting down the hall to the other 'room.']

[There is no answer for a long time, the minutes dragging on as for that time it does appear as she is alone in this, without the room's guide, yet eventually his voice is heard.]

Sorry Rogue, be a bit difficult to be here. [If he meant a physical presence or a mental one, it could be taken either way. However Remy does eventually appear, as if made of static as his body flickers in and out of existence. The mask for the most is gone, torn and broken, a quarter of the original piece remaining to cover one eye. The rest of his face is bloody but there is no visible wound to explain the blood that pools down his body, leaving footprints as he walks but they vanish whenever he takes a step or two away from them.] Don't fall, please.

I won't. [Simple, reassurance. She moves away from the edge a little further, though she is not afraid of heights.

He looked terrible. There shouldn't be that much blood. Why was he bleeding so much?

This place hurt him. He couldn't hide it.

...oh, Remy.

She spoke just loud enough to be heard over the wind.]

Where do ya want me ta go?

[She was there on invitation. She wasn't going where he didn't want her. She could give him that, at least.]

[Remy moved to hold his arms out wide before letting them drop back down to his sides.] Not like we really got a lot of options. Would say whatever takes ya fancy, but rather hopin' nothin' here would do it for ya.

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