Fic: Girl from a Dangerous Town
Title: Girl from a Dangerous Town
Author: K Marie
Fandom: X-Men
Pairing and/or Character: Rogue
Rating: R for character death
Disclaimer: X-Men belong to Marvel. And Fox, depending upon universe.
Summary: I dream of her either loved or killed because the town's too small.
Prompt: the grasp of dusk and summer
Author's Note: Title and Summary come from Belfast Tune by Joseph Brodsky. Beta of kickass by technosage
Word Count: 796
It was almost dark, that certain time of day when the light and the shadows play tag, chasing each other around the trees. Night came over the park quickly, reminding her how late it was getting. She would need to leave now to make past the checkpoint in time.
Hopefully she wasn't too late. The officer she had met earlier that day hadn't been too bad - not the nicest one, but also not the worst - had simply warned her to be careful. "It's dangerous out there, especially for the ones with a colored id bracelet." He also implied the next officer might not be so nice.
He was right. MRA checkpoint officers ran the gambit of personalities. Most just did their job efficiently, not taking up too much of anyone's time - theirs or the person (mutant) they had stopped. Then there were the ones like this guy. His height and weight alone would make him intimidating. Add to that fact that this man was the one to decide whether or not she would be getting home tonight, and he was scary.
"Card?"
She pulled it out of her wallet, and handed it over wordlessly.
He glanced at the card, looking her over thoroughly.
"Where are you going?"
"Xavier's Institute of Higher Learning. I live there."
"Shut up. I asked you where you were going. That's all I wanted." As close to the car as he was, all she could fixate on was the gun in his holster.
She shivered, and nodded her head instead of answering.
"What are you doing out so late?" he asked, leaning down to stick his head in her car.
"I was taking a break from studying, and I lost track of time."
He smirked, contorting his face into a goblin's mask. The look in his eyes was worse than any she'd ever seen on Logan. Even Sabertooth didn't frighten her as much. "What makes you think a mutie like you can learn anything?"
She didn't answer. She'd learned over the past two years that a check point officer decided to make trouble for you, he usually did it in as painful a way as possible. He looked closer at her card than he had before. He was checking for the reason she wore an orange identification bracelet. Colored bracelets were a sign of a dangerous mutation. Scott wore a red one. Erik in her head had remarked how similar the bracelets and the Star of David the Jews were made to wear were. How it wouldn't be long until the mutant population had barcodes tattooed on their foreheads.
The officer took her card to his booth, looked her up on his computer then contacted someone on his radio. There was no one behind her. If he decided to do something there was no one around to hear her screams. But at least she was still waiting in her car and not pulled off to the side of the road.
"Pull your car over." So much for that. If she ran, they'd have every reason to run after her. If she stayed, there was no telling what might happen.
"Get out of the car. Move!" he said when she took to long for his liking.
She was reluctant, unsure what it might mean for her, or worse, for him. But whatever might happen once she was out of the car, it wouldn't be near as bad as if she stayed inside the car.
"Name?"
"Marie D'Ancanto."
"Place of residence?"
"Xavier's Institute of Higher Learning, 1602 Greymalkin Lane."
"Place of employment?"
"Xavier's Institute of Higher Learning, 1602 Greymalkin Lane."
"Occupation?"
"Art teacher."
At that he snorted. "What does a mutie know about art? Probably don't even know Monet cut off his ear."
She clenched her teeth. "More than you do obviously, since it was Van Gogh," she said before she thought.
He stared before he slapped her. "What the hell?" he screamed, unbelieving.
She tried not to fight back. Every bone in her body told her to resist, and she was fighting against it. He slapped her again, so hard that she stumbled to the ground.
That was one slap too many. Too many times of being shown that she was worthless because she was different. She'd had it. Delivering a swift and not especially hard kick to his knee that dropped him to his back, she got up and ran for her car.
She'd barely opened the door when she heard the shot.
Felt something warm running down her shirt.
She got in, started the car, and drove away.
She never saw the tree; she'd already blacked out.
The last thing she heard was, "You tried. No one can blame you for that."
She'd never thought of Erik's voice as comforting before.
I actually had this finished back in December. Hello Krissy, learn to post things. cross posted to 4purposes and eager4aceptance. Now, I'm going to watch Supernatural.
Author: K Marie
Fandom: X-Men
Pairing and/or Character: Rogue
Rating: R for character death
Disclaimer: X-Men belong to Marvel. And Fox, depending upon universe.
Summary: I dream of her either loved or killed because the town's too small.
Prompt: the grasp of dusk and summer
Author's Note: Title and Summary come from Belfast Tune by Joseph Brodsky. Beta of kickass by technosage
Word Count: 796
It was almost dark, that certain time of day when the light and the shadows play tag, chasing each other around the trees. Night came over the park quickly, reminding her how late it was getting. She would need to leave now to make past the checkpoint in time.
Hopefully she wasn't too late. The officer she had met earlier that day hadn't been too bad - not the nicest one, but also not the worst - had simply warned her to be careful. "It's dangerous out there, especially for the ones with a colored id bracelet." He also implied the next officer might not be so nice.
He was right. MRA checkpoint officers ran the gambit of personalities. Most just did their job efficiently, not taking up too much of anyone's time - theirs or the person (mutant) they had stopped. Then there were the ones like this guy. His height and weight alone would make him intimidating. Add to that fact that this man was the one to decide whether or not she would be getting home tonight, and he was scary.
"Card?"
She pulled it out of her wallet, and handed it over wordlessly.
He glanced at the card, looking her over thoroughly.
"Where are you going?"
"Xavier's Institute of Higher Learning. I live there."
"Shut up. I asked you where you were going. That's all I wanted." As close to the car as he was, all she could fixate on was the gun in his holster.
She shivered, and nodded her head instead of answering.
"What are you doing out so late?" he asked, leaning down to stick his head in her car.
"I was taking a break from studying, and I lost track of time."
He smirked, contorting his face into a goblin's mask. The look in his eyes was worse than any she'd ever seen on Logan. Even Sabertooth didn't frighten her as much. "What makes you think a mutie like you can learn anything?"
She didn't answer. She'd learned over the past two years that a check point officer decided to make trouble for you, he usually did it in as painful a way as possible. He looked closer at her card than he had before. He was checking for the reason she wore an orange identification bracelet. Colored bracelets were a sign of a dangerous mutation. Scott wore a red one. Erik in her head had remarked how similar the bracelets and the Star of David the Jews were made to wear were. How it wouldn't be long until the mutant population had barcodes tattooed on their foreheads.
The officer took her card to his booth, looked her up on his computer then contacted someone on his radio. There was no one behind her. If he decided to do something there was no one around to hear her screams. But at least she was still waiting in her car and not pulled off to the side of the road.
"Pull your car over." So much for that. If she ran, they'd have every reason to run after her. If she stayed, there was no telling what might happen.
"Get out of the car. Move!" he said when she took to long for his liking.
She was reluctant, unsure what it might mean for her, or worse, for him. But whatever might happen once she was out of the car, it wouldn't be near as bad as if she stayed inside the car.
"Name?"
"Marie D'Ancanto."
"Place of residence?"
"Xavier's Institute of Higher Learning, 1602 Greymalkin Lane."
"Place of employment?"
"Xavier's Institute of Higher Learning, 1602 Greymalkin Lane."
"Occupation?"
"Art teacher."
At that he snorted. "What does a mutie know about art? Probably don't even know Monet cut off his ear."
She clenched her teeth. "More than you do obviously, since it was Van Gogh," she said before she thought.
He stared before he slapped her. "What the hell?" he screamed, unbelieving.
She tried not to fight back. Every bone in her body told her to resist, and she was fighting against it. He slapped her again, so hard that she stumbled to the ground.
That was one slap too many. Too many times of being shown that she was worthless because she was different. She'd had it. Delivering a swift and not especially hard kick to his knee that dropped him to his back, she got up and ran for her car.
She'd barely opened the door when she heard the shot.
Felt something warm running down her shirt.
She got in, started the car, and drove away.
She never saw the tree; she'd already blacked out.
The last thing she heard was, "You tried. No one can blame you for that."
She'd never thought of Erik's voice as comforting before.
I actually had this finished back in December. Hello Krissy, learn to post things. cross posted to 4purposes and eager4aceptance. Now, I'm going to watch Supernatural.