Most times - I miss the voice that goes unheard

[apennyworth]

Alfred Pennyworth is out and about. He is dressed impeccably for a day out in the cold, and he is attempting to do some shopping. There's nothing essential to buy, at the moment, merely various things for projects he has waiting back at the hotel

Comments

[tempered_scars]

Wes has a room at the Conrad. He uses it every now and then, and last night, he just so happened to end up there because it was closer than his bike shop.

He's in the common room, head canted to the side as he stares at Rogue while she battles with a fearsome...blanket.

Clearing his throat, he folds his arms across his chest in amusement. "May I ask what yer doin'?"

[touchme_n_die]

Rogue's hair falls in her face as she twists her neck to look up at Wes.

As she doesn't really have an 'oh my gosh, I'm so embarrassed' expression, she shoots for exasperation. It doesn't really work.

"I was tryin' to get comfortable and warm," she explains, giving the blanket another yank while she attempts to stand up. The effort is...bad. It's bad. "I don't usually comfy on up in these pants, but they're the most-" Rogue roots around in her brain for a word that works. "They're the most...familiar pants I've got and I wanted to relax and there're buckles, and the blanket is caught on 'em, and...yeah. I realize I'm on the floor and I look ridiculous, and I won't get mad if you laugh."

She's lying. She'll so get mad.

"What're the chances we can have a chit-chat while you pretend I'm not stuck to the blanket and on the floor?"

What do you know? Of all her expressions, there is a hopeful one. She's wearing it...with much more success than the pants.

[tempered_scars]

Wes still has his arms folded across his chest, giving her a look of genuine bafflement.

She should probably smack him for this then, because Wes does end up chuckling a bit, albeit quietly. He does try being polite, especially in front of a lady.

"You've got great chances of that happening, despite the fact I'm not a chatty kinda guy. But first I gotta wonder if you might need some help with that thing so we can skip a step altogether."

Another small chuckle.

Wes, he's so thoughtful, isn't he, Rogue?

[touchme_n_die]

There will be no smacking, of course. Rogue doesn't deliberately do harm to handsome men...well...not a lot, at any rate.

"...Skip a step?"

Rogue clears her throat, then tugs harder and the blanket rips. Her eyes slide shut for a moment, then she smiles sheepishly and somehow manages to get herself at least back up on the couch.

"That's...sweet, sugar, really." She may not have an embarrassed expression, but her skin (as ALWAYS) betrays her, turning a bright red.

Gloved hands fly up to her face, covering her cheeks, and she shakes her head. Take a moment, move past it...nothing stands still.

Her smile more relaxed now, she laughs. "If you ain't chatty, how am I supposed to find out anythin' about you?"

[tempered_scars]

He wouldn't know to be relieved or disappointed. Bad Wes!

"We can chit-chat and you don't have to be stuck on the floor?" he elaborates with another clearing of his throat.

He's not still laughing. Really.

"I'm as sweet as pie."

No laughter at all.

Wes grins, hands outstretched as they leave their folded position. "You just ask what ya wanna know, darlin'. It ain't like me ta lie about it. I'm an angel, ya know. We can't tell lies or it physically hurts us."

[touchme_n_die]

"Yeah...I'm not big on rollin' around on the floor."

No. She has no idea how that sounds.

She is eyeing him, and the 'sweet as pie' comment makes her laugh. "Uh huh. Oh, sure. Me too. I'm sweet as pie and sugar and spice and all that jazz."

She has no problem filling in the silence with her own giggles.

Rogue looks at him closely. "It physically hurts you to lie?" That...sucks. And, he just up and offered that bit of information to her.

That shocks her. She's lived in a world where any weakness is hidden, if possible. Offering up the truth is...something strange, and somehow appealing.

"Is that hard? To be totally honest all the time?" She shakes her head. "Sorry. That's a stupid question. Folks get accustomed to what they are, don't we?"

[tempered_scars]

Oh, but Wes does know ho that sounds and there might be more chuckling on his part.

"Usually can't hide a wince. The bigger the lie, the more it hurts," Wes affirms with a slight nod.

It's not very much a weakness for him. Especially for a man like Wes who doesn't believe in hiding. He is what he is, and those who are by his side are there because they accept it.

"Not necessarily," Wes answers slowly. "I'm used to it mostly because I believe in telling it like it is. It's hard for us to lie. But not impossible. It just hurts. There's always omission but I guess that defeats the purpose, don't it?"

[touchme_n_die]

She finds herself unable to do anything but grin at his chuckling. It's sort of...charming. Go figure.

"Oh." Rogue bites her lip. "Kinda like with anyone then." Lying hurts the heart, doesn't it? It's always hurt hers.

She doesn't have much experience with people who don't believe in hiding. Well. That's true and not true. There's her mother, who believes they should never have to hide who or what they are...and she hides all the time.

There's the Professor who helps to keep them safe, and yes...sometimes hidden, and he never hides himself.

'There's always omission but I guess that defeats the purpose, don't it?'

Rogue winces at that. "I reckon so." Her face settles, and she smiles. It's soft and sweet and totally calm. "I can't touch anyone. Ever. My skin hurts people, it can kill 'em." She looks away, still smiling. "No omissions for ya, Mr. Honesty." It just seems rude, and he's too nice to be rude to.

[tempered_scars]

Kinda like with anyone then.

Wes tilts his head thoughtfully. "Anyone who gives a damn, yeah. Only it's physically obvious with angels most of the time."

There are those who most likely have learned to master it but Wes doesn't see the point.

And he's surprised at that admission, and it's horrible to think of someone not being able to touch anyone ever. Rogue's a strong woman from what he knows, however. Wes is certain she wouldn't want apologies or excessive sympathy.

He doesn't give her the standard I'm sorry though it's likely his face shows some sort of sympathy.

"It always been that way?" he asks quietly.

[touchme_n_die]

"Hmm." She can imagine that's frustrating, no matter how open he is. She knows sometimes there are situations where you just want to keep things to yourself, and it's not even about lying.

It's about...self.

And, he's right. She doesn't want apologies or excessive sympathy. It grates after so many years, and most of the folks she knows...knew understood better than to react.

She can take the look on his face, though. It's not overt or overpowering. It is what it is.

"Since I was a lil' girl," she replies. "But, I have friends back home heaps worse off than me. And, I'm healthy and alive and whole. That's somethin' to be happy about, yeah?" Yes, she still doesn't accept Chicago as home, and right now...she's not sure she ever truly can.

Worse off than me... No one would understand why she thinks about her mother, then, but she does and it's enough.

[tempered_scars]

The thing with Wes is he rarely lets himself be placed in a position where he can be asked a really private question he doesn't want to answer. White lies every now and then would be nice, but he's learned to live with it as he is.

Since I was a lil' girl.

Wes nods, and he goes to sit on the couch because he doesn't want to linger in the doorway any longer.

"That is something to be grateful for, yeah." After the plagues, after that week of utter hell, Wes understands that just being alive is an accomplishment.

"There are other ways to be close to people. Ya can reach out to someone without necessarily touching them, yeah?"

[touchme_n_die]

When he sits on the couch, she looks over at him and smiles.

"I suppose there are other ways," she admits. "I suppose I've focused more on what I can't do than how I can work around it. Not very clever of me," she admits with a rueful grin.

She wonders what he's thinking, but knowing he can't lie...it makes her hesitate in asking. It's strange. She'd never stop drilling into one of her friends back home. Logan, Scott, it wouldn't matter. She'd keep at them, yapping and nagging and bitching until they finally told her.

It's entirely different when someone doesn't have a choice.

It's not fair to take something from someone if they don't have the option of saying no.

"You're gonna have to randomly tell me stuff," she says finally. "Your favorite song or if you don't like sweet tea." He gets a look there that clearly says if he doesn't like sweet tea, he's insane. "I'll do the same, so you don't feel weird. My favorite color is green."

That's that, then.

[tempered_scars]

Wes shakes his head, smirk on his face. "I got a feeling you're one of them clever ones."

And he grins when he realizes what she's doing and why.

His estimation of her rises a bit for that. Not that it hadn't been pretty high in their few previous encounters.

"I own a bike shop," Wes discloses finally.

"I'm good with engines. I like taking mine to the cliffs some nights. Don't watch a whole lot of movies. My favorite song's Stairway to Heaven and I don't got a favorite color."

[touchme_n_die]

She laughs at that. Of all the things Rogue's been called over the years, and goodness knows there's been a few, clever usually isn't one of those things. She appreciates it all the same, but she does so with a laugh.

"Well, thank you, darlin'."

A bike shop. And engines. Rogue's face lights up. "That's twenty kinds of great," she says, and if her voice is a little breathless...bike shop. "I reckon that must be a heap of fun, and...well, you can borrow my color if you're ever havin' a dull day."

Was that a wink? Why, yes it was. The lady said she couldn't touch. She didn't say a darn thing about flirting.

There's a teasing grin on her face now. "I'm gonna have Led Zeppelin stuck in my head all day now." She doesn't look upset about it. "And, I'm lousy at playing poker, but I still love to play."

[tempered_scars]

And she sounds just like him when she calls him darlin' Wes can't help but laugh, too.

Sounds better on her, though.

He really is better at this flirting thing usually, Rogue. He's just had a few months of hell and trying to be...Wes again.

"That's very kind of ya to let me borrow your color, Rogue. Doubt any day with you is boring. Call it a hunch."

A very good hunch.

"I've always had a good bluff face," he says conversationally. "Could teach ya how sometime. Though between you and me? I've always kinda liked Monopoly better. Always picked the shoe. The shoe's unappreciated, in my experience. Everyone always goes for the car or the boat."

Stop. Rambling. Wes.

[touchme_n_die]

Rogue thinks he's just fine like he is. The narration agrees...a lot.

'Doubt any day with you is boring. Call it a hunch.'

Rogue's smile could possibly get wider and brighter...with some sort of mechanical equipment. Otherwise, no.

It's big.

"That's quite a compliment, Wes. I don't like t'be boring, for sure."

She listens carefully, and then she is stopped just short of choking. "The shoe? Oh no, sugar. The thimble is the way to go. It doesn't fall over easy when you get upset and whack the table when someone moves their stupid hotel to Park Place right before you move."