.04 Scars are just places where I used to bleed

[touchofrogue]

Who: Rogue
Broadcast: Text
Action: A corner table in Varrick’s bar on the Iskaulit
When: January 17th

[Around 10 this morning as time is measured, this text goes live across the network, the numbers set to anonymous:]

**Wanted** Pilot with a pilot augment willing to risk a little trouble. If interested, interviews will be held at the Space Bar from approximately 3-6 today. Compensation for time and trouble to be negotiated.


Action
[Rogue sits with her back to the wall with a decent view of the door. She’d asked the bartender to inform anyone who came in and inquired about interviews to point them in her direction, and Nami had graciously agreed. This had been in her mind to determine for a while, but Loki's disappearance had just given her the proper motivation to try it. There is a determined set to her shoulders even as she tries to relax and nurse her drink. This would be what her friends would call reckless if they were feeling kind about things, which would be why she didn't plan on telling them.

...Ugh, waiting for interviews was not the best. Maybe she should have brought a book. She pages absently through her communicator instead.]

Comments

[touchofrogue]

[Rogue... blinks. And then she blinks again, she is just that surprised.

Well, Rogue does have very little tolerance for jackasses when they are being a jackass towards her, or people she cares about, but she is an X-Man to her bones, and has received enough second chances in her life to believe that one is generally owed when another is genuinely trying.

So after a moment of staring at Steve rather directly, Rogue simply holds out a gloved hand.] Apology accepted. The name's Rogue.

[enshields]

[And he takes it. His handshake is warm, firm without being overbearing and brief besides. Then he returns his attention to his beer.]

Nice to meet you. [A bit of humour, there, though he neglects to say again.] Jim's had a lot of good things to say about you.

[touchofrogue]

[Rogue retrieves her hand with a relatively normal speed, though something about her posture reinforces an invisible barrier that her hand has just reentered, an almost physical representation of the difference between 'her space' and 'everything else's space'.

Her eyebrows arch slightly at Steve's comment about Jim - curiosity naturally piqued, but at the same time: So that's why... Not that she can hold it against Steve if Jim's recommendation is the reason why he's trying to make amends; it would make life easier.]

Yeah? [She settles her elbows on the counter and takes a sip of her drink.] Well, I suppose that's better'n the alternative.

[enshields]

[He spots the error too late, and has the decency to grimace into his drink. Idiot. He really should've known better, he used to rag on Buck for the same thing back in Brooklyn.]

That's not why I wanted to talk to you. James Barnes, with God and all His Angels on his side couldn't change my mind on anything I didn't want to budge on.

[touchofrogue]

[And so modest, too. ...okay, yeah, there was no way she was not going to tease him about this, practical stranger or not.]

You're sayin' you're completely above influence? [She gave him a small smile, good natured but with a bit of a teasing edge.] That always somethin' ta brag about?

[enshields]

[Well he walked into that one. He does, very faintly, roll his eyes.]

I'm saying I'm stubborn. [More seriously,] And that it's not always a good thing.

[touchofrogue]

[Aww, well that takes the fun right out of teasing him.

Her smile softens, fades, and she tilts her head to consider him.] Well... [she raises her glass in his direction] takes one ta know one.

[enshields]

Then we're in good company.

[He clinks his glass against hers, solemnity inherent in the gesture. He doesn't remember the last time he wasn't drinking alone, and alcohol - almost as a rule - is more a symbolic thing for him than anything else.]

Were you waiting for someone? I don't want to interrupt.

[touchofrogue]

[Ah, see, here's the problem. Steve she wouldn't really mind telling, he was just in that sort 'general acquaintance who I am still deciding whether or not I like' category which was actually ideal for this sort of thing. But he might tell Jim. And Jim was exactly one of the people who she did not want knowing that she was about to do something stupid reckless.

After the fact, sure, but she really didn't want to have to have this fight before she went out, since nothing was going to change her mind.

Stubborn? Nah.


So she took a sip of her drink and decided to just keep it simple.]

I'm not waitin' on anyone in particular.

[enshields]

[Stupid and Reckless happen to be both his middle names, actually, so more's the pity. But Steve nods and rubs his thumb against the rim of his glass where the condensation has gathered. Now that he's said his piece, he isn't sure where to direct the conversation. He's not a natural at keepin' one up the way Buck always was. He thinks probably eighty percent of their earliest discourses involved James chattering away while Steve made surly faces at all attempts to engage him.

One of these days, he's going to have to apologize to Jim for the utter hardship of it all. For now, though, Steve tosses off the rest of his beer and gives her a polite nod.]

All right. Well-- I won't keep you. You have a good night, miss.

[touchofrogue]

[Miss? Ugh.]

Tell ya what, I'll make ya a deal - you don't call me 'miss' an' I won't call you captain.

[enshields]

[He gives her a sideways glance. Neither angry nor challenging - he's past that now - but it is faintly curious.]

I never told you I was a captain.

[touchofrogue]

[Rogue quietly huffs, amused.] I never told ya I was a woman.

[Not to imply that that she wasn't; rather, to imply that some things were as plain as the nose on her face... or other parts of the anatomy, as certain types of modesty were not necessarily one of her virtues. She does sense the intent behind the question, though, and decides to give him the easiest answer, and surprisingly enough the easiest answer isn't 'one of my best friends in the fleet was your best friend and I did get sucked inside his brain for calibrations' or even 'one of my best friends in the place I was before was Tony Stark and I might have heard a thing or two about the Avengers' or even 'we were friends in a place you don't remember'. The answer was really much more simple than that, even if it was probably equally pleasant. Her tone was soft and wry.]

You're Steve Rogers. You're in my history books. I've known you as Captain America since 7th Grade when Mrs. McMillain did her Great American Heroes project an' Betsy Lou Higgins plastered the walls of the classroom with pictures of ya. [A pause and a reflective moment, both to allow Steve some time to absorb that and since she was thinking of it.] I got Herbert Hoover. His only redeemin' quality was lettin' me see how many times I could fit the word 'dam' into the presentation.

[7th grade had not been a kind year to Rogue, and she hadn't seen any reason why it should be kind to anyone else.]

[enshields]

[Well, he has the good graces to look faintly abashed. He forgets, sometimes, that who he is and what he's done belongs not only to him but to the world. He'd never trade anonymity for all the good he's accomplished, but damned if he doesn't think about it sometimes. His breath hitches faintly on the inhale, he holds it. Lets it out after a moment.]

Ah.

[He rubs his thumb across the bone of his brow.]

Well, I'm-- sorry to have let you down.

[He's not the man in the history books, that sanitized and practically canonized him all at once. But he feels a spasm of guilt for not being what a little girl might've imagined. Hard thing to reconcile.]

Was it-- was I out of the ice by then?

[touchofrogue]

[Okay, sorry, your question is a good one but Rogue chooses to address something else. Her eyebrows raise a dangerous, skeptical angle as she regards him quietly for a moment. 'Sorry to have let you down?' Did she say anything about letting her down, excuse you, is this blatant 'compliment me for I am down' manipulation, she is dating Loki and her mother is Mystique, okay, she does not fall for this--

--oh. No. That's sincere guilt on his face? Her eyebrows relax to 'contemplative'. What... why...?

...Oh.]

Findin' out a hero is made out of flesh an' blood instead of stardust an' moonshine is more encouragin' than discouragin' when the rest of the world has proved ta be less than a fairy tale. Bein' human doesn't disqualify ya from bein' inspirin', though I reckon I can see how that'd make ya uncomfortable. After all, we did just meet.

[A small smile.] So if ya do disappoint me, d'ya want me ta let ya know? I take apologies in chocolate an' flowers.

[enshields]

[That gets a smile. Faint, but genuine.]

I'll stock up on both, then.

[touchofrogue]

[Rogue raises her glass to him.]

Always nice ta meet a man who comes prepared.