love me, because love doesn't exist, and I have tried everything that does.
Sooner rather than later, Rachel Dawes was finally well enough to join the rest of the clean-up crew at the Conrad. It's important to Rachel to feel like she's making a difference, however small it ends up being. It's important she actually keep on with the idea of forming an organization to pose as a united front within the supernatural community
( Read more... )
When it doesn't stop, she turns back in that direction, and it's only once she gets closer that she realizes it's not a kid.
It's a Phoebe. And, she's a crying Phoebe.
Well.
That's not good!
Rogue jogs over to Phoebe and stops a few feet away, her face concerned. She doesn't reach out to the girl, as there's no reason to make things worse, but she does clear her throat.
"Aww hell, darlin'. What happened?"
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Mostly because she was frightening young children.
"Nothing," Phoebe answers miserably. She's not as good of a liar as she wishes she were sometimes, which doesn't mean she wants to talk about it.
Rogue is her friend and all but still. A world of do not want.
"It's that time of the month."
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Her face is fixed into a worried frown. Then, she hears Phoebe tell her what's wrong.
It takes a moment to process.
Rogue is confused, for a moment, and then she figures Phoebe must have the worst cramps in the history of the world.
She's ...not quite sure what to say, and she takes a moment.
"I'm awful sorry, darlin'," Rogue says finally. She sits on the bench beside the girl, utterly flabbergasted. She remembers her mother once stabbing a man in the forehead with a fork during her time of the month, and she nods to herself.
"That sucks. You want me to run and get you some chocolate or somethin'?"
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The kids that were climbing on the monkey bars have now moved on to the swings again, and Phoebe watches them.
Sometimes she'd like to be a little kid again, even if she didn't have her wings.
Everything was more or less simpler. Maybe she just can't remember it as well.
Smiling Rogue's way at the mention of chocolates, Phoebe waves it off. "Naw, that's okay, Rogue. Were you headed somewhere?"
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She knows it, too. So, it's not all that bad.
Rogue watches the kids on the swings, too, and she smiles. The swings were always her favorite thing, as she always thought flying seemed like ten heaps of fun.
Now, she can fly and she still thinks swings are pretty darned cool.
It's easy to smile, too, since Phoebe's smiling. "Aww, no. No where important. I was just walkin' around lookin' for trouble. Y'know. If I find it somewhere else, it means I didn't start it."
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It's nicer when you've got someone beside you.
It's nicer when you've got friends like Rogue.
"Why would you go looking for trouble?" Phoebe asks.
It's a genuine question. Life in Chicago is hard enough. Especially for Wanderers like Rogue.
There's enough monsters and blood and loss. Why go look for it?
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She likes it when her friends are happy.
'Why would you go looking for trouble?'Rogue picks up that it's a genuine question, so she thinks on it for a moment, wanting to give it a genuine answer ( ... )
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She doesn't want it to get to the point where some things become so familiar that they become acceptable. She doesn't want death to happen so frequently that every time it does the impact it deserves isn't felt.
It's a scary thought, to grow so desensitized to the tough world around you.
"Well, that does make sense when you look at it like that. If it makes you feel any better, there's trouble in Chicago all the time, too."
Phoebe doubts there were plagues back where Rogue was from, but it's best not to ask.
She tries not to laugh when the kid runs into a tree, covering her mouth with her hand. A few more minutes of this and she'll forget she was upset in the first place.
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It's got to be better than being miserable about being stuck.
"Besides, it ain't so bad here, really. I've made friends." Phoebe gets another smile. "And, I fell into a good job that I love. That's lucky. Plus, I could'a been sucked on into someplace like Cleveland. You ever been to Cleveland, sugar? It's ten shades of boring on a good day."
In Rogue's opinion, of course.
When the kid stands up, he looks a little wobbly. "You don't reckon he'll walk right back into the tree, do you?" It's a whisper, so the glare Rogue gets from the kid's mother is probably only for the laughter.
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Some are relieved they never have to see it again.
Some don't make it long enough to know either way. Chicago's kind of a bitch like that.
"I've never been to Cleveland but god, even the name sounds like a snoozefest. I'm glad you got a job and friends. Not all of the wanderers get that."
She sighs, before drowning out a snort at the next question. "I think if he does his forehead will grow a size or two."
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'Not all of the wanderers get that.'
That...sucks. And, it makes her think of all the mutants back home...all the young ones away from home, lost and scared. It makes her think about Professor Xavier, and how lucky she was that he saw a second chance for her.
Not every one is so lucky, and not everyone gets the things they should.
She still manages to grin at the thought of the poor munchkin having his forehead sprout a bump or two. "I think he'll do all right. If not, he can just tell his buddies he was goin' for a unicorn kinda look or somethin'."
"I ain't seen much of you since our movie night, darlin'. What've you been up to?"
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