driftfleet | (no subject)

...Oh. [Did you just compare her to Jean in terms of looks because Kitty really can't imagine living up to that. Jean is so...Jean. Kitty sees herself as pretty normal looking my comparison, not that she can't get boastful and flirty, but come on.]

The leader of Apocalypse's Pale Riders? What does she have to do with anything? [Was someone showing his wife bad guy flash cards and she randomly got jealous of one? Is that better than being jealous of some random lobotomized lady?]

[Oh Kitty, where did he go wrong with you? Where did all of the men who've loved her go wrong if the woman can honestly look at herself in the mirror and be surprised at the comparison? (Kurt might be underestimating how stunning Jean is based on the fact that he can't see the woman in anything but a sisterly light. Blame the hair.) Offering a gentle smile, Kurt reaches up to push her hair away from her face.] Bashful now, hmm?

Former leader of Apocalypse's Pale Riders. The lady had a bit of a.. change of heart after we met in Avalon. [Because of Avalon, not what the smugness in Kurt's slowly spreading grin is implying. Though, granted by his later understanding the woman had volunteered for the mission due to a mild fascination with skinning him body and mind, the deciding factor in her about-face hadn't been his boyish charm.]

First of all, I don't get bashful. [She absolutely gets bashful sometimes. It's not extremely common, but someone being unexpectedly nice to her in some way can trigger it.]

Second, are you implying what I think you're implying? [You didn't seriously bed a Pale Rider, did you? She's trying to call forth what the woman looked like and did from memories of intelligence that passed her way well over a year ago.]

Then what do you call that? Enlighten me of your strange foreign tongue.

[It's so familiar to joke with her, bicker back and forth like the horrors didn't touch them at all. The skin doesn't fit well but is comforting, like a stretched out old t-shirt washed enough times to be cloud-soft. Kurt sorely could use the comfort right now.]

Kitty. What did I tell you about a gentleman and his personal affairs? [He actually tsks at her, like she's a teenager again and fell on her face attempting a lunge.]

[She is just going to playfully hit his arm. It is best kind of language that spans many cultures.]

That I shouldn't ask if I don't want the nightmares? [It probably wasn't that, but this teasing thing is definitely important after everything else she just heard. She needs the breather.] But who is this gentleman you speak of?

[And he's going to playfully pretend that stung, rubbing at the spot with a put-upon look on his face.]

An education, darling. I'm flattered you think so highly of my imagination, but nothing I do in privacy is exotic enough to warrant nightmares. [They both could use the breather and the comfort of old friendship. Kurt's gasp of offense is just the other side of too dramatic to be genuine.] How dare you imply I'm not! Take it back or I'll talk Ororo into fighting you for my honor.

I'm glad you know you stand no chance on your own. [She shifts, kissing his cheek. She forgot how soft that felt against lips. Not that she was running around doing a lot of cheek kissing back home, but there were some good moments. Happy ones. Few and painfully far between.]

So it was a big enough thing that your wife found out? [Did you actually date a Pale Rider? Which definitely feels like a whole other level from sleeping with one. Not that she actually has any room to talk considering her history with the serial killer.] Are you trying to out do me in questionable choices regarding romantic partners? Because if you are...I'm going to try to let you win that.

[Kurt doesn't even bat an eye. It's true that she wasn't particularly in the habit of kissing him, but neither was she, beyond a rocky beginning, prone to shying away from him. For himself, he's rarely turned down innocent affection; he enjoys being touched, and women are a safe source of contact. Also, a beautiful one.

(What was Wagner punishing himself for when he decided to shut himself away? What possibly could make any version of himself hate themselves so much?)]

To answer your points, dear, I do have a chance. But it's tradition the party whose honor is in question to appoint a champion. Who am I to defy tradition? [All the smirking from him, because he's only traditional when it suits him. And sue him, but watching two beautiful deadly women fight suits him just fine.] And I'll have you know Emma wasn't so bad a woman under it all. Just.. very damaged by the world. [His smile turns slightly rueful, remembering how hard he'd tried and failed to kill the demons in her head. And if there's a bit of fondness still there, well. A man never really gets over his first love, does he?]

Oooh, because tradition. Sure. [He gets a knowing smile which softens.]

Then she sounds like someone from our world. [None of them came out undamaged, did they? Then again, most of them just didn't come out at all. She wasn't sure whether she should be happy everyone at least got more time aside from her and Piotr or if it would have been kinder if they really had been reset and removed from existence with the M'kraan crystal wave.]

She was the epitome of someone from our world. [He mutters it, thinking of the things Emma had told him, in the dark when she couldn't see his reactions. She'd kept her back to him, and Kurt was never allowed to repeat a word she'd uttered, even when they were alone.]

I hadn't seen her for years before.. everything. Half expected her to show at Linda's funeral, but she didn't. Neither did Mom.

Kurt... [She says his name softly and apologetically.] I'm sure she wanted to be there. [Speaking of Mystique now. Lost loves are complicated, but a parent should be there with you. Some semi-ridiculous part of her feels bad for not being there except of course she couldn't be.]

I am too. [He ducks his head to kiss the top of hers, because what else can he do? Say 'that's how I know she's dead'? Because it is; his mother showed for neither his wedding or Linda's funeral, and that's not like her. No power on earth had kept his mother from being there when he needed her before, and Kurt can only think of one that would.

Drawing in an unsteady breath, Kurt closes his eyes. He's just going to stay like this a while, if it's all the same to Kitty. Just sit here, hold her, and try not to cry because he's all out of words to make anything he's said tonight okay.]

[He doesn't need to say the words. The words he does use and the gesture are enough. She hurts for him. For all of them. She's gotten to a kind of peaceful place with it though. No immediate need for tears. Just a tired, worn down feeling. She needs to ruminate on quietly for awhile.

It's a long time before she speaks again. The position has grown somewhat awkward over time and the muscles need to relax, but she doesn't want to lose the contact or be alone and she doesn't want him alone. Speaking seems like too much. Too loud. Too...just too. So, she shifts slowly, and coaxes him back with her until she's lying down on the small bed on her side, facing him and just curling in against him.]

[He doesn't even think of her comfort, mired in the pain of his memories and the effort it takes not to break down sobbing. His breath hitches a few times, and once or twice tears threaten to escape. They never do, even when he shakes as though with a chill.

It's comfortable, in a way, to sit there in her arms and let himself hurt. Everything aches from his soul to his bones, and every twinge has a name weighing his tongue. So caught up is he in just breathing that Kitty moving startles him, makes him jerk and blink his eyes open. When it sinks in what she wants, the thought crosses his mind of boundaries. Kurt can't bring himself to care.

Curling up around her, he lets escape a long sigh as muscle groups that have been tense since he arrived start to relax. His eyes close and one hand comes up to stroke her hair. A few minutes later those movements begin to slow as exhaustion creeps up on him, coaxing him to some facsimile of sleep.]

[They are the last two people from their world—different from everyone else here in their way. They've had to grow hard in places to keep themselves safe and together. The last thing they need are more boundaries, right? It's not something that even crosses her mind. It's not romantic or even platonic right now because those labels don't fit. It's just this human need for contact and comfort and comforting. Eventually she falls asleep beside him.]