Anniversaries
[Written with tm_rogue]
Mystique hates the month of January. While the rest of the world busies themselves with making resolutions and subsequently breaking them, she mourns, in her own special way. It isn't visible to the rest of the world, her behavior and manner appearing the same as always, though she might seem more brash. Usually, she would have cloistered herself in one of her safe houses or taken a special assignment in order to get her mind off of the upcoming anniversary. She detests that word.
The date is not an anniversary. There is no adequate word to describe that day and what it represents. None of her usual barriers can be set in place while she is here at the mansion and she will not allow them to see her weakness. She is unsure why she is still here, biding her time with these damn cultists. Her reason for coming has left, hiding away somewhere with the annoying little bird and most likely seeing the megalomaniac. That thought only makes her angrier and she stills the urge to destroy the room she is currently residing in.
She needs to get out, to leave these four walls that are quickly beginning to cave in on her, and exits the room, walking determinedly. The students give her wide birth and she is pleased when she spots her reflection in one of the extravagant mirrors that her expression is neutral. The temperature is frigid and she ignores the urge to go back in, continuing her path towards the forest, needing space. Wolverine left earlier this morning and she knows no one else will be roaming the woods. Here she will be left alone and perhaps allow herself to grieve.
She doubts it will come to that.
Eventually, she enters a clearing and stops, her feet protesting her movement and she forces herself to continue on, relishing each slap of a branch against her skin. A snap of a branch behind her causes her to turnabruptly, leveling a gun at the intruder.
Rogue holds up her hands. "What? Stabbing me wasn't enough?" That was probably a low blow, but she can't bring herself to care. She wishes she could just remember the good stuff between the two of them, how loving Mystique and Irene had been but so much has happened since then. Maybe too much. She isn't sure if she wants that to be true or not.
She stuffs her hands into her pocket and locks her gaze with Mystique, waiting for the woman to react. She isn't exactly sure she's wanted here right now, not all that sure she wants to be either.
Mystique lowers the gun, glaring hotly before masking her expression. "How nice of you to take time out of your busy schedule of fucking that madman."
Lashing out is easier than allowing anyone to see how hurt she feels.
"If you're gonna start bad-mouthing Erik I'm leaving," Rogue interrupts, rising a few inches. She's come to see how Mystique is doing with the anniversary of Irene's death nearing but that didn't mean she was going stay and beharassed. She's finished being someone else's emotional punching bag. "I miss her too."
That was the last thing she wanted to hear and she lunges forward, knocking the girl to the ground. "You betray her very memory."
Rogue pushes her off, blocking blows and glares, brushing dirt off. "I do not and stop trying to make me leave." She narrows her eyes, hands on her hips and shakes her head. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing, Momma. This is classic you, trying to make me angry, so I'll leave and won't see you weak."
"You have never done anything to honor her memory." Mystique crossed her arms, baring her teeth in warning. "You left her"--and me--"to be with this pathetic lot who have done nothing but bring you pain and death." She will not break down. Not here. Not now.
Rogue balls her hands at her sides and bites her lip to keep from responding rashly. Sighing, she leaned against a nearby tree. "Do you remember her chocolate chip cookies?" she finally asks, tilting her head and smiles as she remembers. "She taught me how to make them but I can never quite get them to be like hers. No matter how hard I try. I remember she smelled like lavender and violets and she loved the Beatles. A little too much sometimes." She grinned, remembering dancing with the older woman to old records.
"Stop it." Mystique snarled, swinging at Rogue and knocked the girl to her feet.
Rogue growled and kicked out, sending the woman sprawling to the ground. "It ain't weak to cry," she muttered, landing a kick in her stomach. "Stop being so damn stubborn."
"Pot. Kettle." Mystique tried not to wince and rolled away, jumping quickly to her feet, slowly stalking Rogue.
"Damn it. I ain't here to fight you." Rogue sighed exasperatedly before lunging forward and wrapping Mystique in a tight hug. "I miss her too. I miss her laugh. Her smile. Her cookies. The way she read to me from those braille books." She squeezed Mystique tighter, letting her own tears slide down her cheeks. "I miss you too," she added quietly.
Mystique stiffened briefly, fighting back the urge to embrace the girl as well, finally giving in at Rogue's last words. "I miss her so much," she breathed, shutting her eyes but unwilling to cry.
"I know you do." Rogue held on tightly, pleased when Mystique relaxed. "You don't always have to be so...strong."
Mystique didn't answer that and disentangled herself, brushing hair from Rogue's face and winced at the bruise forming on the girl's cheek. "I am sorry."
"It'll heal." Rogue shrugged. "You were never that good at showing your emotions."
"You are hardly any better," Mystique countered, before crossing her arms. "You can do infinitely better than that buffoon."
Rogue rolled her eyes. "I like Erik. Let it go. Besides, shouldn't you be happy I'm not pining after Remy anymore?"
"This is hardly an improvement."
Rogue shrugged. "You did take the contract off, right?"
"I am not going to attempt to kill him," Mystique replied, smiling slowly.
"Uh huh. So you'll just have others do your dirty work for you." Rogue shook her head and rose a few feet in the air.
"Always." Mystique narrowed her eyes, mouth twisting in anger. "If he does anything to harm you, I will kill him."
Rogue nodded. "I can live with that. But I get to be the deciding factor on what constitutes harming me."
"That is hardly fair." It wasn't as if she would go by Rogue's gauge anyways.
"Uh huh. Deal with it." Rogue gave a shaky smile. "Stay out of trouble."
"I am an X-Man now. Wouldn't want to sully the uniform," Mystique drawled, waving a hand in dismissal.
"Right." Rogue gave a nod before taking off into the sky, her duty fulfilled.
Mystique watched her depart, waiting until the girl was a speck in the sky before allowing a single tear to fall. Angrily, she wiped it from her face before stalking back to the mansion intent on stirring as much trouble as she could for the rest of the day. Perhaps she could determine a way to annoy Jean. She smiled at that thought and quickened her pace. If nothing else she could terrorize a few students.
Mystique hates the month of January. While the rest of the world busies themselves with making resolutions and subsequently breaking them, she mourns, in her own special way. It isn't visible to the rest of the world, her behavior and manner appearing the same as always, though she might seem more brash. Usually, she would have cloistered herself in one of her safe houses or taken a special assignment in order to get her mind off of the upcoming anniversary. She detests that word.
The date is not an anniversary. There is no adequate word to describe that day and what it represents. None of her usual barriers can be set in place while she is here at the mansion and she will not allow them to see her weakness. She is unsure why she is still here, biding her time with these damn cultists. Her reason for coming has left, hiding away somewhere with the annoying little bird and most likely seeing the megalomaniac. That thought only makes her angrier and she stills the urge to destroy the room she is currently residing in.
She needs to get out, to leave these four walls that are quickly beginning to cave in on her, and exits the room, walking determinedly. The students give her wide birth and she is pleased when she spots her reflection in one of the extravagant mirrors that her expression is neutral. The temperature is frigid and she ignores the urge to go back in, continuing her path towards the forest, needing space. Wolverine left earlier this morning and she knows no one else will be roaming the woods. Here she will be left alone and perhaps allow herself to grieve.
She doubts it will come to that.
Eventually, she enters a clearing and stops, her feet protesting her movement and she forces herself to continue on, relishing each slap of a branch against her skin. A snap of a branch behind her causes her to turnabruptly, leveling a gun at the intruder.
Rogue holds up her hands. "What? Stabbing me wasn't enough?" That was probably a low blow, but she can't bring herself to care. She wishes she could just remember the good stuff between the two of them, how loving Mystique and Irene had been but so much has happened since then. Maybe too much. She isn't sure if she wants that to be true or not.
She stuffs her hands into her pocket and locks her gaze with Mystique, waiting for the woman to react. She isn't exactly sure she's wanted here right now, not all that sure she wants to be either.
Mystique lowers the gun, glaring hotly before masking her expression. "How nice of you to take time out of your busy schedule of fucking that madman."
Lashing out is easier than allowing anyone to see how hurt she feels.
"If you're gonna start bad-mouthing Erik I'm leaving," Rogue interrupts, rising a few inches. She's come to see how Mystique is doing with the anniversary of Irene's death nearing but that didn't mean she was going stay and beharassed. She's finished being someone else's emotional punching bag. "I miss her too."
That was the last thing she wanted to hear and she lunges forward, knocking the girl to the ground. "You betray her very memory."
Rogue pushes her off, blocking blows and glares, brushing dirt off. "I do not and stop trying to make me leave." She narrows her eyes, hands on her hips and shakes her head. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing, Momma. This is classic you, trying to make me angry, so I'll leave and won't see you weak."
"You have never done anything to honor her memory." Mystique crossed her arms, baring her teeth in warning. "You left her"--and me--"to be with this pathetic lot who have done nothing but bring you pain and death." She will not break down. Not here. Not now.
Rogue balls her hands at her sides and bites her lip to keep from responding rashly. Sighing, she leaned against a nearby tree. "Do you remember her chocolate chip cookies?" she finally asks, tilting her head and smiles as she remembers. "She taught me how to make them but I can never quite get them to be like hers. No matter how hard I try. I remember she smelled like lavender and violets and she loved the Beatles. A little too much sometimes." She grinned, remembering dancing with the older woman to old records.
"Stop it." Mystique snarled, swinging at Rogue and knocked the girl to her feet.
Rogue growled and kicked out, sending the woman sprawling to the ground. "It ain't weak to cry," she muttered, landing a kick in her stomach. "Stop being so damn stubborn."
"Pot. Kettle." Mystique tried not to wince and rolled away, jumping quickly to her feet, slowly stalking Rogue.
"Damn it. I ain't here to fight you." Rogue sighed exasperatedly before lunging forward and wrapping Mystique in a tight hug. "I miss her too. I miss her laugh. Her smile. Her cookies. The way she read to me from those braille books." She squeezed Mystique tighter, letting her own tears slide down her cheeks. "I miss you too," she added quietly.
Mystique stiffened briefly, fighting back the urge to embrace the girl as well, finally giving in at Rogue's last words. "I miss her so much," she breathed, shutting her eyes but unwilling to cry.
"I know you do." Rogue held on tightly, pleased when Mystique relaxed. "You don't always have to be so...strong."
Mystique didn't answer that and disentangled herself, brushing hair from Rogue's face and winced at the bruise forming on the girl's cheek. "I am sorry."
"It'll heal." Rogue shrugged. "You were never that good at showing your emotions."
"You are hardly any better," Mystique countered, before crossing her arms. "You can do infinitely better than that buffoon."
Rogue rolled her eyes. "I like Erik. Let it go. Besides, shouldn't you be happy I'm not pining after Remy anymore?"
"This is hardly an improvement."
Rogue shrugged. "You did take the contract off, right?"
"I am not going to attempt to kill him," Mystique replied, smiling slowly.
"Uh huh. So you'll just have others do your dirty work for you." Rogue shook her head and rose a few feet in the air.
"Always." Mystique narrowed her eyes, mouth twisting in anger. "If he does anything to harm you, I will kill him."
Rogue nodded. "I can live with that. But I get to be the deciding factor on what constitutes harming me."
"That is hardly fair." It wasn't as if she would go by Rogue's gauge anyways.
"Uh huh. Deal with it." Rogue gave a shaky smile. "Stay out of trouble."
"I am an X-Man now. Wouldn't want to sully the uniform," Mystique drawled, waving a hand in dismissal.
"Right." Rogue gave a nod before taking off into the sky, her duty fulfilled.
Mystique watched her depart, waiting until the girl was a speck in the sky before allowing a single tear to fall. Angrily, she wiped it from her face before stalking back to the mansion intent on stirring as much trouble as she could for the rest of the day. Perhaps she could determine a way to annoy Jean. She smiled at that thought and quickened her pace. If nothing else she could terrorize a few students.