ArchivedLogs:Rogue Reunion

Rogue Reunion
Rogue Reunion
Dramatis Personae Rogue & Logan
In Absentia	26 January 2013 Logan finally returns to Xavier's after chasing his past in Canada. He reunites with one of his few friends - Rogue - and finds a new job.
Location Xavier's School Grounds
It's cold out, but then it is January in New York. There's a hint of snow falling, more a fluffy picturesque snow than anything else. As Rogue trudges out from the forest, it's clear she's been outside a while. Snow is caught in auburn hair, clinging to her scarf and long green cloak. Gloves are welcome accesories today, even as she enjoys the exercise, cheeks flushed pink with exertion and cold. There's a cry of alarm from one of the younger, newer students - and a young boy dashes around the corner, away from the entrance to the foyer and toward the basketball court. Heads turn - a few other students nearby - to see what the trouble is, but finding no immediate threat, no one takes action (except to peer a bit more around the corner). The boy - who cannot be more than 10 at the most - ducks behind a tree... And then promptly turns into one! "I--" calls out a familiar, husky baritone voice followed by a muttered curse. "I didn't mean ta scare ya, kid!--" Then Logan stalks around the corner, dressed in very worn jeans, boots and leather jacket - a smoking cigar in one hand and a set of keys in the other. He looks, for all intents and purposes, like the angry farmer who chases kids out of his fields. Only cooler. His nostrils flare. He glances left and right, searching for the kid - then shrugs and sets his eyes on Rogue. A moment later, the barest hint of a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth and he walks toward her. "Been lookin' for you," he says almost reprovingly. "Miss me?" At the sound of alarm from one of the students, Rogue's attention is jerked of her nature-appreciating daydream state to full awareness of what's around her. A glove is tugged off as she tries to discern the situation, tension through her shoulders squaring them as she clenches her jaw. Instead, she sees Logan, and as if he was Medusa, she freezes at that spot a moment. But only a moment, as he's coming towards her again, back like he promised. Her glove is tugged on hastily as she rushes forward and arms reach up over his shoulders. "Logan!" It bursts out, a sound that's a mix of a little relief in with the joy of seeing him again. Then she smirks as she pulls back, tucking white behind her ear. "Not really." The grizzled face of the lone warrior breaks into an unfamiliar grin - he is so much more used to frowning, his eyebrows are already half way there, most of the time - and he puts his arms around the girl in a quick, but tight, hug. The embrace lifts her up off her feet for just a moment before he puts her back down again. "Figures," he retorts with a smirk, careful to keep his cigar away from Rogue's face. Then he motions to her white lock of hair with his chin. "Kept the look," he says - his tone not quite making a question of it. "Thinkin' to start a trend?" Then he peers down his nose with mock-condescension. "How ya been?" "Well, why would Ah sit around missin' an old grump like you?" Rogue sasses once she's back on her feet. Her chin comes up as he motions to the white lock of hair. "Ah told ya Ah kinda liked it. Besides, goin' somewhere to try an' get them to dye it to match the rest of my hair? Huge pain." She rolls her eyes, that grin blooming into being again. Her head tips to the side, silently asking if he wants to walk while they talk. "Ah'm fine. Nothin' too wild or interestin' goin' on." Logan takes a second to glance past Rogue toward the trees where a diminutive oak is walking - or rather, sneaking - away from the talking couple. A single bushy eyebrow arches dubiously as the 'tree' signals a nearby teacher and begins to whisper while pointing back at the feral man. 'The eyebrow' is then shoot toward the teacher, who stands there shaking her head in reproach and pointing with a finger toward Logan's smouldering cigar. He sticks it back between his teeth and takes a long pull at it. "Guess I should be happy--" he blows a cloud of spicy-scented smoke out to the side of him, "--the world didn't end without me around." He nods with a roguish smirk at the teacher, who stalks inside with the young student. "Nothing interesting, huh? Nothing at all?" Rogue rolls her eyes. "Gawd, you're outside, what more do they want? You're not smokin' in a closed room." She starts walking randomly, perhaps sniffing at the cigar smoke that she's maybe missed the smell of. "Well, ya promised to come back. Ah would think it would wait to end until ya did that." She can't quite help sassing Logan, a shrug of her shoulders as gloved hands slide into her cloak pockets. "Not really. Got all caught up with the schoolwork Ah missed while being on the road, Ah'm an RA now for the girl's wing. Tryin' to figure out how to tell Scott and the Professor Ah'm not so sure Ah wanna dive right into college." Inviting Rogue to follow with a muted jerk of his stubbled chin, Logan grips his cigar between his teeth in the corner of his mouth and starts walking at a leisurely pace past the basketball courts. His eyes are everywhere, scoping out every bush, every hedge, every fence, bench and bough as though forming a defensive strategy in his head--you know... just in case. Another jerk of his head to the side, and he turns toward the copse of trees just vacated by the young arbormorph and the prudish teacher watching over the students. "Nice place," he grunts laconically. "You could do worse. C'mon, ya got me here for the moment, you might as well make the best of it, kid." There is some notable affection when he says kid. "You don't wanna do college, okay - what do you wanna do?" He pauses near some benches under a tall oak. "And where the hell's Scott? His bike needs gas." He casts surveying eye over the mansion itself, nostrils flaring, and finally shrugs - opting to watch the game of mutant basketball with some amusement in his eyes. Rogue follows him easily enough, and while her motions aren't as sharp or gaze as quick, she's easily aware of her surroundings. But she also has familiarity on her side, "It can be. Some people are just too uptight. You'd think we were all going to run wild,or something." She grins as he mentions she has him there, at least for the moment. "Not sure. Maybe go to a tech school, Ah'm not horrible with computers. Or there's always going to a trade school, like becoming a mechanic. Ah'm pretty good with machines." The cigar-smoking man has his eye on the game in progress, the tiniest of smirks tugging at the corner of his mouth - almost imperceptible. Kids - mutants - playing together, not a care in the world... except for one blond-haired boy who repeated teleports from one spot to another in a flash of gold, scoring a couple of goals in succession. A chorus of dismay erupts from the other players. "He's cheating," Logan remarks as though making a what are you going to do about it? jibe at the girl beside him. "Shouldn't he get a hiding? Or a..." he rolls his eyes with nonchalance, "black spot, or... something?" He puffs for a second on the stub of his cigar, glances at it in disappointment and moves to douse it in the palm of his hand. He stops. He douses it on the underside of the bench as he sits down. "Tech school? Y'know I can teach you a thing or two about mechanics - that is, if you're not afraid of gettin' your hands dirty." He smirks. "Powers are allowed. His team is short a player." Rogue replies, not missing a beat. "The other kids are being grumbly, is all. What do you want me to do, take ten points from Gryffindor or something?" Not that she really expects Logan to get the reference. Pullng her cloak tight, she moves to sit down next to him, a quiet exhale escaping. "Ah'm doing really well in Shop an' all. And why would Ah be afraid of getting my hands dirty?" There's a hint of sarcasm in her drawl. "Not like most people ever see 'em anyhow." "Points, huh?" he grunts leaning back into the bench, putting his hands behind his head; one arm could almost fall around the girl's shoulders for a hug, but it doesn't. Quite. He peers through one eye, under an arched eyebrow at the teleporter. "Hell of a name. Folks must be hippies." And a moment later his focus is back on Rogue. "Well, ya know you kinda look like a girl who's..." - there's that half-smirk again - "afraid of dirt--germs. Whatever. But don't let me stop you." He unlocks his fingers from behind his head to put his hands up in a gesture of mock-surrender, briefly. "So that covers... study, work--" he sniffs the air, wriggling his nose. "Friends--boyfriends! Any takers?" He makes a show of peering across the courts and playground and narrows his gaze upon a quiet youth with glasses, sitting and reading what looks like a novel that weighs more than he does. "How about him?" Logan almost grins. Almost. He's enjoying this. Rogue laughs. "You need to go out to the movies more, and watch less porn. Gryffindor is a .. well, it's like a frat at a school. When they screw up, they get points taken away." Then she's rolling her eyes at him, gloves hand balling up to punch him in the shoulders. "Do you forget Ah'm the girl that hitched from Mississippi to where Ah met you? Can't be pretty pretty princess all the time doin' that, ya jerk." There's a mock huff, before Rogue stiffens. "You're not funny, Logan." She says quietly. "Sorry," he grunts flatly, although he looks genuinely remorseful. Then, inhaling sharply through his nostrils he lets the breath out in a hiss, while glancing up into the tree-branches above. "I'm no good at this... talking stuff. Training wheels on 'n shit. We good?" He glances down then at the girl sitting next to him, and puts his hand on her far shoulder. The female teacher who disappeared inside earlier, appears again through the doorway approaching the benches from across the courts. She's watching Logan with a look of incredulity on her face, although he pretends to ignore her for now. Rogue tips her head forward a bit, hiding behind white strands, as useless as it is. "Ah know ya don't mean anythin' by it. But you know better than anyone what touchin' me feels like. Ain't anyone gonna sign up to do that for fun, ya know?" She shrugs a bit. "Don't worry. Ah know ya don't much actually talk to women. Ya grunt." There's a hint of a smile with that. The hand on her shoulder has her leaning into his side just a little bit. Clearly the gruff Canuck is comforting her, not anything... else. Rogue is eighteen, besides. The still newish teacher needs to mellow the hell out. "Professor...Logan," the teacher stammers - she is a tall, willowy woman with short, dark feathery hair - come to think of it, it really is feathers! A crest runs down the back of her neck and out of sight under her blouse, and it practically stands on end (in frustration, to match the look on her face). Logan looks up, one eyebrow cocked and eyes locked onto the woman's face. For just an instant, he looks amused, and then he is all business. And lovin' it. "Yeah?" The avian-mutant teacher bristles. "Your room is ready - 3rd Floor, Teachers' Hall. Your name is on the door, and schedule is on your desk, and your personal tablet. Welcome to Xavier's." The welcome is anything but warm, but Logan merely shrugs and then flashes a lopsided sneer at her. She looks once at Rogue, turns about and walks back toward the mansion. Logan snorts. Rogue looks up the approaching woman, expression all but completely calm. She and Logan most certainly aren't doing anything wrong. He's a friend comforting her for a bad joke, is all. Her brows lift, chin tipped up as her jaw tightens. Her expression is certainly one of mutinous challenge until the woman walks away. "Uptight bitch." Rogue mutters, as the woman walks away, a sharp exhale through her nose just shy of a snort. "Some welcome home, huh Logan? Sorry." Logan looks pleased at Rogue's comments and gives her shoulder a brief squeeze. "Heh, didn't I tell you we'd give these geeks another shot? They just need to get out more--" his eyes stray toward the departing teacher to spear her with a momentary, sidelong glare. "--Some more than others." Clearing his throat, he lifts his arm from Rogue's shoulder and rises to his feet. "So, yeah. Professor Logan. Back not two minutes and suddenly I'm hired - P.E., survival & self-defense...whatever." He pulls another cigar out of his jacket pocket and sticks it in his mouth. "Now I gotta damned Ph.D. Whaddya think?" Rogue smirks a little bit, relaxing with the older mutant most are terrified of. But not Rogue! Then again,... she could kill him she had to... maybe. "Ah don't like her. She has a stick up her ass all the time. Ah'm eighteen, took the last of my tests to qualify for graduation an' all.. " There's a hint of a shrug. "Well, ya probably have earned a P.h.D. in ass kickin'." She says brightly. A snort almost turns into a laugh, but the grizzly features of the man swallow it up before it makes any noticeable difference. He looses a sigh. "I should probably go see what room Professor Peacock has me in--and 'stick up her ass or not', don't let me catch you sassin' the teachers here. Bad example." He turns to go. Stops. And turns back to flash a toothy half-grin at the girl. "Not in public anyway. Yeah, I'll fit right in--here's lookin' at you, kid." And then he is off, striding over the basketball court toward the mansion. As he crosses, a stray ball flies toward his head on a rebound from the ring-- --There's a schickt, a bang and a pitiful 'hiss' as the ball finds itself skewered on a single claw. Logan retracts the claw, letting the rubber mass that was a ball fall to the ground. "Reflex; my bad," he says blandly, and then continues on his way. FINI