Well, eight hours of sleep does fix some things.
My tongue is whole! And . . . Reyes has her new laptop! She likes her shiny toy. It's even the right color. So, suffice it to say, I'm back on Reyes' good side. I'll hopefully be even more on her nice side if those data retrieval specialists do some magic to her previous laptop. If not, I'll still be slightly on her good side, better than where I was a few days ago. Don't want to on the bad side of a woman who has access to rubber gloves and needles.
I've spent the better part of today either sleeping or avoiding Rogue, in person and as a topic of conversation. I know Ororo means well, but I just don't want to talk about it. I think there is some of my miniscule manly pride that riles at being beat up in one punch by a lady. Then my brain comes in and says "Excuse you, unreasonable ego, but this is the woman you have watched rip an unsuspecting fender off of your van." So my ego gives up.
But on further reflection . . . I could have handled that better. I had been in a similar situation with Sherlyn. Well, not totally similar. Rogue doesn't know if Gambit is alive or dead; I kinda knew my wife was dead. Pools of blood and unseeing eyes sort of tip one off to that. And well, I learned my blood doesn't work on a corpse. So there's some learning to be had from life's big tragedies.
I don't know what's worse though, knowing or not knowing. With not knowing you have some hope at least. And well, Gambit is an X-Man, so there's a pretty good chance that if there's no body, he's alive. I'm also very good at rationalizing to myself, aren't I? But soon Rogue may know, and she'll have to deal with the outcome either way. I can at least hope for the safe return of Gambit so somebody can get on with her lessons.
I just hope that Rogue finds out either way soon. She needs to accept the consequences of her actions, which is a large part of why she can't touch. Sometimes, an over bountiful conscience hinders in more ways than zealousness. Like in angst factors. So with this event in the books, we've managed to make an even bigger emotional jumble than yesterday. I have a funny feeling that two steps forward brings us three steps back. So by the time we get around the world in about 15 years, Rogue will have a handle on everything in a backwards manner.
So, anyway, Longshot and Joseph have been keeping Rogue company today. Longshot may have been working on her lessons with her, but I frankly don't care. Punch me once and I'm done with you. It's going to take a whole hell of a lot for me to forgive behavior like that. I don't care if it was just an off night for her, she was just extremely tired, or was just running on fumes. I've heard all the excuses before. Though I think the difference will be that Rogue's sober, might make a difference later, when I'm not sore.
Got a call an hour or so ago from Blackhorse Inc. Apparently some members of the Destruction Company have surfaced in Northern California. Details were sketchy on exactly what they were doing there, but the guys at BHI promised to keep me posted on the DC, especially considering my past with them. The one verified person seen was Lash. Hard to miss a woman who has whips come out of the palms of her hands.
So a half hour later, I get a call about some unusual aquatic disturbances off the coast or Oregon. BHI reps though it could possibly be Tsunami playing at something. They were at least nice enough to get me the heads up. Timoth dispatched some of his local agents to see if they could find anything else. They found nothing. I'm not surprised. His West Coast employees are either programmers or artists; they're not really trained for investigative work.
Though if the DC continues to go north I'm not feeling good as to where they may end up. I think I'll make a trip up to Vancouver to see if the DC has started any carnage up there. I can't see a reason for them to go any further north than that. Alaska doesn't hold much that would interest them. It would be nice to put an end to whatever they got up their sleeves before it's in full swing. It would be a first for me.
So, tomorrow morning, I call and see what I can set up to get me up to Vancouver and leave the X-Men on their own for a bit. I think they can handle it. As long as they keep the metal pots out of the microwave.
I've spent the better part of today either sleeping or avoiding Rogue, in person and as a topic of conversation. I know Ororo means well, but I just don't want to talk about it. I think there is some of my miniscule manly pride that riles at being beat up in one punch by a lady. Then my brain comes in and says "Excuse you, unreasonable ego, but this is the woman you have watched rip an unsuspecting fender off of your van." So my ego gives up.
But on further reflection . . . I could have handled that better. I had been in a similar situation with Sherlyn. Well, not totally similar. Rogue doesn't know if Gambit is alive or dead; I kinda knew my wife was dead. Pools of blood and unseeing eyes sort of tip one off to that. And well, I learned my blood doesn't work on a corpse. So there's some learning to be had from life's big tragedies.
I don't know what's worse though, knowing or not knowing. With not knowing you have some hope at least. And well, Gambit is an X-Man, so there's a pretty good chance that if there's no body, he's alive. I'm also very good at rationalizing to myself, aren't I? But soon Rogue may know, and she'll have to deal with the outcome either way. I can at least hope for the safe return of Gambit so somebody can get on with her lessons.
I just hope that Rogue finds out either way soon. She needs to accept the consequences of her actions, which is a large part of why she can't touch. Sometimes, an over bountiful conscience hinders in more ways than zealousness. Like in angst factors. So with this event in the books, we've managed to make an even bigger emotional jumble than yesterday. I have a funny feeling that two steps forward brings us three steps back. So by the time we get around the world in about 15 years, Rogue will have a handle on everything in a backwards manner.
So, anyway, Longshot and Joseph have been keeping Rogue company today. Longshot may have been working on her lessons with her, but I frankly don't care. Punch me once and I'm done with you. It's going to take a whole hell of a lot for me to forgive behavior like that. I don't care if it was just an off night for her, she was just extremely tired, or was just running on fumes. I've heard all the excuses before. Though I think the difference will be that Rogue's sober, might make a difference later, when I'm not sore.
Got a call an hour or so ago from Blackhorse Inc. Apparently some members of the Destruction Company have surfaced in Northern California. Details were sketchy on exactly what they were doing there, but the guys at BHI promised to keep me posted on the DC, especially considering my past with them. The one verified person seen was Lash. Hard to miss a woman who has whips come out of the palms of her hands.
So a half hour later, I get a call about some unusual aquatic disturbances off the coast or Oregon. BHI reps though it could possibly be Tsunami playing at something. They were at least nice enough to get me the heads up. Timoth dispatched some of his local agents to see if they could find anything else. They found nothing. I'm not surprised. His West Coast employees are either programmers or artists; they're not really trained for investigative work.
Though if the DC continues to go north I'm not feeling good as to where they may end up. I think I'll make a trip up to Vancouver to see if the DC has started any carnage up there. I can't see a reason for them to go any further north than that. Alaska doesn't hold much that would interest them. It would be nice to put an end to whatever they got up their sleeves before it's in full swing. It would be a first for me.
So, tomorrow morning, I call and see what I can set up to get me up to Vancouver and leave the X-Men on their own for a bit. I think they can handle it. As long as they keep the metal pots out of the microwave.