and nothing to get hung about (RP for tm_rogue)
After the Front Line newspaper publicly tried to link Jean to Magneto's escape, it seemed to turn into the cool thing to do. None of the stories actually said anything -- because there was nothing to say -- but that didn't stop the deluge of innuendo, and questions that weren't really questions. "What did Jean Grey know and when did she know it?" What did that even mean?
In the circumstances, there was a pretty short list of people that Jean felt like talking to -- and Miss Anna Darkholme was pretty damn far from being on it. But the truth was that Jean didn't know anything about Magneto's escape, and that was starting to frustrate her. And Rogue -- well, Rogue wasn't necessarily in on it. Jean hoped Rogue wasn't in on it, because that would mean Rachel and Logan had the potential to get themselves pulled into this. If Rachel's not in it already, Jean thought, and quickly dismissed it.
But in any case, if Rogue didn't know something before, she would have made damn sure to know by now. And Jean was sick of not knowing.
She didn't have any particular reason to think that Rogue would want to talk to her. But Jean thought she might as well try asking before looking into more desperate-type measures. Using a secure network and the blind email address she had gotten from Logan's Power Rangers communiques, she sent a message:
Living is easy with eyes closed
Misunderstanding all you see
And then the date and time for the meeting, and Jean's call signal, written out in a cipher that they had used ages ago when they were on a strike team together. It wasn't much of a code -- if Rogue didn't recognize the line from 'Strawberry Fields Forever,' she would figure it out. They'd be in plain sight there in Central Park, but Jean gambled that if anyone saw a hooded figure standing by the monument, they'd just figure it was a fan on a pilgrimage -- either that, or Yoko.
The sun was setting when Jean walked from the X-Corp safe house, and the temperature was dropping as she approached the mosaic. She bought a red rose from a vendor and laid it down on the edge of the tile. She put her hands in her pocket and stood, looking at the pattern in the stone. She let her mind ease gradually open and listened to Rogue. So far, all she could tell was that the hipster across from her couldn't carry a tune even in his head, and he really didn't know the words to 'Imagine,' which was sort of an achievement.
Come on, Rogue, she thought. Don't let this be a dead end.
In the circumstances, there was a pretty short list of people that Jean felt like talking to -- and Miss Anna Darkholme was pretty damn far from being on it. But the truth was that Jean didn't know anything about Magneto's escape, and that was starting to frustrate her. And Rogue -- well, Rogue wasn't necessarily in on it. Jean hoped Rogue wasn't in on it, because that would mean Rachel and Logan had the potential to get themselves pulled into this. If Rachel's not in it already, Jean thought, and quickly dismissed it.
But in any case, if Rogue didn't know something before, she would have made damn sure to know by now. And Jean was sick of not knowing.
She didn't have any particular reason to think that Rogue would want to talk to her. But Jean thought she might as well try asking before looking into more desperate-type measures. Using a secure network and the blind email address she had gotten from Logan's Power Rangers communiques, she sent a message:
Living is easy with eyes closed
Misunderstanding all you see
And then the date and time for the meeting, and Jean's call signal, written out in a cipher that they had used ages ago when they were on a strike team together. It wasn't much of a code -- if Rogue didn't recognize the line from 'Strawberry Fields Forever,' she would figure it out. They'd be in plain sight there in Central Park, but Jean gambled that if anyone saw a hooded figure standing by the monument, they'd just figure it was a fan on a pilgrimage -- either that, or Yoko.
The sun was setting when Jean walked from the X-Corp safe house, and the temperature was dropping as she approached the mosaic. She bought a red rose from a vendor and laid it down on the edge of the tile. She put her hands in her pocket and stood, looking at the pattern in the stone. She let her mind ease gradually open and listened to Rogue. So far, all she could tell was that the hipster across from her couldn't carry a tune even in his head, and he really didn't know the words to 'Imagine,' which was sort of an achievement.
Come on, Rogue, she thought. Don't let this be a dead end.