[ Action, Voice ] Seven of Diamonds
[Rogue has spent this entire experiment week completely unaffected. If she were the kind of person inclined to use blackmail, that would be just peachy. Instead, after figuring out the theme, she's gone from resigned to amused to bitter in the blink of an eye. Kind of the Malnosso to remind her that fairy tales and happily ever afters just aren'
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...and that was a very bad thought.
She blinks and her frown deepens before she leans back and flicks her gaze up to his face.]
You're right, it shouldn't be too much ta clean up.
[Rogue hesitates for a moment - is she sure she wants to show him this? It will just make her tired afterwards. And a close encounter with some hydrogen peroxide. All the same... if she does this she can call the whole thing even. She can't even be genuinely mad at him for kissing her; she knows the way the experiment has been and if he hadn't then who knows how many people would have been caught in the experiment's compulsion? And he dragged her here so she wouldn't hurt anyone, and got hurt himself doing it.
Yeah. This is right.]
...just hold still.
[She slowly stretches out one gloved hand to hover just above his bicep and begins to use Nala.]
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But here she is, and the scratches left behind by the thorns are slowly but steadily closing up. The sting is rapidly fading. Inwardly, he's impressed with the power of the healing magic. It's not something he's had a chance to see quite yet, but it's definitely something else.
This girl's just full of surprises.
His eyes flick up from the healing scratches on his arm, up to try to catch her eye as well.]
Merci. [And he means that. Really.] ...When'd you learn t'heal people up like this?
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She drops her arm and dodges his gaze, trying to hide that. He's got a whole other arm to heal and Rogue halfway wonders if she should bother.
...stepping back now seems cowardly. Never let anyone say she was a quitter. Rogue steps in front of him to his other side while not meeting his eyes, all the while attempting to make this as brusk and business-like as possible. It comes off as awkward and too-aware.]
I've been here a while, Cajun. I'm bound ta pick a few things up.
[Yes, she knows, that's not an answer. The truth is, she'd been uncertain about the filial spirits... then she'd been on the draft. Coming back from that, working and meditating with Nala had been almost... therapeutic. She does the same as before, extending a hand just over his bicep. It helps her focus. It doesn't take long. And it will leave her exhausted.]
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That exhaustion isn't hidden half as well as you may hope it is, Rogue. Gambit doesn't miss the telltale signs starting to set in. She really shouldn't be pushing herself like this. Especially after everything else.]
Rogue... [And here he drops his voice to make sure that, even if anybody is walking past, there won't be anyone overhearing.] Shouldn't be wastin' all your energy on me, chere.
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[She steps away, exhausted but satisfied. She glances up at him, the spark of challenge in her eyes softened by something like appreciation. She's glad she was able to make things even, even if, by the way she can still feel the ghost of his kiss, it wasn't that uneven to begin with.]
Besides, [and she glances away] I've gotta practice if I want ta get better.
[So clearly it has nothing to do with you, personally, or the fact that you got hurt because of her.]
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He can see right through you, Rogue, and it’s bringing a softened look to his eyes as well. Stubborn as a mule - and possibly had been around Wolverine a touch too long - but he can still appreciate that she felt some kind of need to return a favor. Even though he’s doubtful he deserved such a thing.
He meets that spark of challenge with a spark of mischief.]
Guess I know who to go to in case of more scratches, non? If it’s more practice you’re after.
[Not that he anticipates getting caught by anything again, but she’s way too much fun to tease.]
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Sorry, Cajun. Only the first time was free.
[Scowl. So you'd better not get hurt again. And if you do, you'd better go to someone who really can do something about it.
She does not, much as she'd like to make the taunt about the 'big man being afraid of a little antiseptic.' It's on the tip of her tongue, ready to go out, but she could already hear his response to it, and the whole point is to draw his attention as far away from what she just did as possible, not to point right back to it.]
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[Although "payment" in a place without money is open to interpretation. Which is part of the fun in offering it.
Much as he enjoys pressing your buttons, though, Rogue, that exhaustion takes priority. Not to mention it's starting to get dark, and with all the fairy tales running around, lord only knows what nightfall will bring out. Even though he starts walking again, he's deliberately going slower to make sure she can keep up. He's still in decent enough shape to take on a wicked witch or werewolf or whatever Luceti feels like throwing at them from here, but Rogue looks pretty drained.]
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You don't have anythin' I want.
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[It may not be the greatest idea to keep nettling her, but it's at least a way to keep stoking up enough energy to make sure she can get home. Plus, being a pain in her neck is a good way to mask that he's deliberately walking slow to keep a better eye on her.]
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Stealin' my stuff an' holding it hostage doesn't count.
[Let's just put that out there right now.
...walking is hard when you're really tired. But she's stubborn as anything, and refuses to drag her feet or look down. Also, whoever designed these skirts needs to be shot, and she's pretty sure this corset is about twenty times tighter than the way she wears them.]
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[He'd steal other people's stuff and hold it hostage.]
Although I'm sure you don't believe we've got a code for these kinda things.
[And whoever designed that skirt deserves points, in his book.]
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And Rogue slants him a sideways glance.]
You got that one right. I'll believe it when I see it.
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He meets that sideways glance with a sly grin.]
Guess I'll jus' have to show you sometime, then.
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Not interested. [...] An' there are plenty of people here ya don't wanna tick off by taking their stuff. Scratches I might be able ta handle, but you'd be lucky if ya got dropped off at the clinic.
[Because she wouldn't take him there if he was bleeding and dying and had things broken - of course not. He'd totally have to get there completely on her own. See how convincing she is in her nonchalant worried glance? ]
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Far as I've found, there's not much here I'd bother anyone by stealin' anyway. No need to be draggin' me off to the clinic jus' yet.
[He's definitely way too amused here.]
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