13121/Somewhere over the woods of New York State....

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Somewhere over the woods of New York State....
Date of Scene: 25 April 2021
Location: Backwoods - Westchester
Synopsis: A random encounter has some surprising consequences, under the cover of darkness. Secrets, my pretty. Secrets.
Cast of Characters: Sinister, Rogue




Sinister has posed:
The night is inching inward, but has not yet crashed across the landscape unduly. It's brisk. Some might even call it cold, a wind lashes from time to time. But out here, overlooking the woods, the lakes, the backwaters and the hinterland, that has a kind of stark beauty.

Lights spotting into the growing twilight promise homey fires, in little cabins and small townships nestled in the old growth deciduous trees. Night time animals are beginning to stir. Jolly people are heading home to their lovedones.

THe world turns.

So about a mile off the ground, a solitary figure hangs in the atmosphere, arms crossed, hair being caught by the errant passing of the north-east wind and that spectacular cloak drifts as if it has a life of its own. Sinister suspended, but generally minding his own beeswax, is an odd thing to encounter in the middle of nowhere.

Rogue has posed:
Cold nights are the best nights for flying in Rogue's humble opinion. Mostly because it makes wearing her insulated body suit and gloves /worth/ keeping on as she's less cold that way. It makes wearing them seem less like a hassle. Like a necessity because she's got a power that she can't control, and therefore, she has to keep everyone around her protected from her. Cause otherwise she's a monster.

Someone felt that a couple days ago.

Someone she cares for, respects, and appreciates the presence of. But also, there's been a few too many events and procedures that called for the loner to be social. Sometimes it's okay, little bits here and there are fine. This was becoming something more like an almost every day or every other day thing. So she took off, not in her car, but into the air. Fresh air. Little forest thumping, mountain viewing...could do her heart good.

She almost misses the figure as she flies, but a stray breeze blows hair and cloak just right it catches her attention and she stops. Hovering, she tilts her head and then moves a little closer. "...Excuse me..are you...alright?"

Sinister has posed:
Sinister turns his head just a little, exposing an ear to the southern belle's drawl but he doesn't turn around completely, looking back at whatever he's looking at. It seems to be a small campsite, where young people, oblivious to anything in the skies, because frankly who would be LOOKING for random flying superfolks... are toasting smores.

"I have been better," is the quiet, english reply. "But conversely, I have been considerably worse." And if this isn't just a little bit strange, the writer is a monkey's uncle. He sighs. "One tries one's best to approach the trials and tribulations of existence fit to the challenge, but it does not always work out, according to plan, does it?"

Rogue has posed:
Rogue tilts her head, and then follows the man's gaze down to where there's a campire, people toasting smores. She sort of smirks and then moves to be a little closer to the other flying person. "Well, if you've had it worse, then s'pose it can't be all that bad right?" Asking this before looking over towards the man again. Did she recognize him? Likely not, but then again he has many faces.

"So you're just...flyin' around to clear your head?" Inquiring minds are also curious minds, and a part of her may kick herself later for going against the very thing she was trying to fly away from. Then again, there's not many she meets outside of Xavier's Mansion that can fly. "Is it just a bad night?"

Sinister has posed:
"No, not all that bad. Mostly making the best of a bad job, still leaves you with the distinct feeling that a bad job was had and it can be frustrating. It sets you back when you're trying to press forward. I do hate feeling as if I hit a dead end." He drifts slowly, executing a neat semi-circle over the camp fire, arms still crossed, regarding the happy campers from different angles. It may be the simplicity of the enjoyment down there that's fascinating him. Then:

"Essentially, yes." Sinister replies, sniffing a couple of times. The smell of the smores has reached their altitude, albeit very faintly, stirred by his arc and he looks up at her, looking over the suit, gloves, striking white stripe in the hair. Identifiers. "You're one of the X-men, aren't you?" It's a question, but has the hint of a statement to it and a very mild trace of trepidation to it.

Rogue has posed:
"Ah. Well... I suppose that makes sense. Doesn't sound like a good time anyway." Rogue offers, not really sure what else to say. Then again, she can be quick with the quips and wits of her fellow X-men, but a total stranger is something else. And she's got manners, damnit. Manners that mean she should know her companion before popping off at the mouth lest she get slapped for saying something wrong. Or something too right.

As he marks her for who she may be, Rogue blinks and looks away for a moment. Then she shrugs her shoulders and nods her head. That whole question didn't really seem like a question even though it was phrased like one. "If you know I am, why are you asking?"

Sinister has posed:
"Assumption is the mother of all fuck-ups. Verification tends to leave you less with your face covered in egg," Sinister replies, perhaps a liiiiittle briskly, but then he's had a recent annoying moment with a different x-man and things sting. But let it not be said that he does not have manners. "I am being an ass, please accept my apologies," he actually smiles at her, bowing his head. Then, with a look upward, he considers. "You and your fellows are moderately famous, as far as organizations go. I believe I have seen you on the media at least a few times. You are quite striking."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue's jaw tenses for a minute and then she sighs, shifting a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. "No. I'm sorry. I was being rude. Yes. I am an X-Men." Hard to really deny it when you make it onto the media, and the X-Men aren't a secret, just their hideout is. As he bows and offers apologies, she smirks and nods. "Fine. Apology accepted, s'long as you accept mine as well. Wrong foot and all that." She glides a bit forward, offering a very gloved hand for a shake. "Name's Rogue." This and then his comment about how she's striking and she falters a bit. "Ah... I appreciate that..."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister drifts closer also, looking her in the eyes and it isn't hesitancy that takes him but a kind of refined admiration. "Nathaniel," he replies, taking the hand for a firm shake that perhaps isn't as strong as her, but is not far off. And then, he lifts his other hand to brush some of her hair back from her face, when the wind blows it past her hairband and obscures her features. It's such a trivial thing -for him- at least, as he tucks it behind her ear.

FOr her it might not be the same kind of experience, because.....
Absolutely. Nothing. Happens.

Rogue has posed:
"It's, ah, nice to meet you Nathaniel..." Rogue offers, their hands shake, and she's about to let go when she notices hair moving out of her face. Then that brush of skin against her ear and there's a brief moment where she wants to panic, to warn him, and then she pauses. A sort of...relief...over takes her. She does shift back a couple seconds later, but it's more in disbelief as she looks to him incredously. "I..what...that's not..." She pauses, taking a breath. "Why can't I feel you?"

Sinister has posed:
That gasp moment that never quite lands, the almost warning and then the aftermath, this prompts Sinister's eyebrows both to lift and him to hold his hand up, turning it this way and that. "I am not incorporeal am I? I was not attempting to be," he replies back. "Why can't you feel me?" he pokes his own palm and his finger does not go through or anything like. "DId you come over with a sudden case of being numb?"

Rogue has posed:
Rogue blinks again, and then she shakes her head some. "No I... it's not that..." She shies back some, and then chuckles. "I mean... I -felt- your touch... but... I didn't get anything from it. No thoughts, no memories, no...powers..." She bites on her lower lip then. "You don't think I wear this whole get up for show do you? I can't touch people... that's always been a thing once my personal powers came out. I take powers from other mutants and metahumans, beings...really..." She explains - probably shouldn't but there it is. "But I didn't get...anything...when you touched me. Not even a blip. Not a thing. I've never not..." Well, except with one other person, but that's a side point.

Sinister has posed:
"Actually, I assumed. And that being the mother of the aforementioned fuck-ups... I had thought you wore that much because you're flying rather high on a cold night. It's why I'm wearing a full body suit," which he is, including that very epic cloak and colossus-esque bands of seemingly living steel across the chest, in a skin-tight vest affair. "Also, of course, naked flying could be indecorus."

He considers, head tilted as she seems to be flustering through things. There's a wry little chuckle, which seems just a little bit agog. A bit baffled. "I'm not sure if you're upset about this or not. You certainly seem undecided as to my errant fingers and their lack of transferance. If it is any consolation to the moment, it isn't you, it's me... a thing so many poorly chosen suitors have used as an excuse over the ages. I have self-defense mechanisms, which it seems know better than I." Uh-huh. They're always on.

Rogue has posed:
"It's kind of a double edged sword, you know? I have to live my life, the entirety of it, not knowing touch. Not even a hug. Pats on the back have to be done with clothing on. Handshakes, I have to be wearing these gloves. I'm surprised they don't have me add on a mask on top of everything else." Rogue spits those last words out with a bit of disdain. Cause why not? She's a bane against everyone, and yet her powers can sometimes mean the pass or fail of a mission. The extra powers she got stuck with from being manipulated into taking another's power, and in her anger, somehow locking them within her so they'll never fade. She's a curse. As he explains, she seems to relax, settle into a sort of acceptance. "Well, ain't that somethin'. Sorry for freaking out a bit, it was just...very unexpected."

Sinister has posed:
"Quite understandable," Sinister replies, with the sort of tone that suggests no apology is necessary. He glances at his hand once again and extends it to her. "Feel free to experience a handshake if you would like. They're vastly underrated, when so many take them for granted." He actually pulls his legs up into a crossed position, resting his other elbow on his knee, chin on his knuckles 'sitting' on the air.

Rogue has posed:
Rogue blinks, looking at the extended hand, and then she takes off the glove of her opposite hand. There's a pause, it's brief but it's meaningful, and then she reaches out and takes his hand with her own. Her skin is soft, a bit on the pale side, and as their hands touch she waits for it. Maybe there wasn't a long enough touch, or maybe something else was off...but...still nothing. She'll hold that handshake for a moment longer than what is likely normal before pulling her hand away again. "That...that was nice..." This and then she takes a breath, the faint scent of firesmoke and smores in the air makes this an almost endearing moment. "..Thank you.." She says, and then puts that glove back on.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister nods to her, the shake a firm one and a little antiquated, as he did raise her knuckles with it, though no kiss was brought forth. Only in the imagination of the moment. He graciously inclines his head also, sitting straighter in his cross-legged in the sky position, resting both elbows on his knees now, hands loosely hanging. And indeed, nothing. Just the sensation of skin to skin, pale as he is, he's still warm and alive and not felt through fabric and layers of barrier. "You are quite welcome," he offers that, then rolls himself onto his back, stretching his legs out infront of himself now, as it's grown suitably dark for the stars to come out. Lying on thin air, he gazes up at the heavens, tucking his hands behind his head as the cloak flitters like a many-stranded flag with the wind. "Did I interrupt a search for solitude by the by?" he inquires.

Rogue has posed:
Oh a kiss on the knuckles would have been icing on the cake, and yet be still her beating and bleeding southern heart because even the idea of it makes her sort of melt. She watches as he shifts to 'lay down' in midair, so he can look at the stars, which are in their millions tonight in the skies where no light pollution can hide them. At his last question, she sort of winces and then shrugs. "I've had some... very social moments... back home. They tend to drain me more than I would like them to, mostly for the aforementioned reason. That and I recently had to save someone from drowning...which meant I used my powers because I can't not use them." Unless someone is immune, like Sinister or Gambit. "So, yes, in part... you did... because I was needing a bit of a recharge...but..." A pause. "I'm not upset at the interruption."

Sinister has posed:
"Ah, that must be exceptionally draining on you," Sinister notes in a solicitous tone, "given all you have already said, of course." He is quiet for a little while, gazing at the milky way and tracing its path with a turn of his head across the hemisphere of black. "Occasionally, you can be alone in company. I think much of the time, it is about the expectation. When there are none, it doesn't quite feel like... sociability. Will you join me? I used to do astronomy when I was a child and used to imagine far off galaxies and worlds beyond imagination with my son, once upon a time. That seems... so long ago."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue tilts her head, listening, and then she nods. Some of his words she doesn't quite understand. They're big, and likely have a similar word she would know but it would seem all in all that things are positive. When he asks if she'll join him, she smiles and nods. "Sure." Then she moves to be by his side and shifts so she's laying next to him, in the midst of the air, and looking at the stars. "Is it hard to imagine far off places now that the universe has sort of both become bigger and smaller at the same time? All these space creatures, and beings claiming to be from other worlds..." She asks, looking over to him after a moment, perhaps to mostly watch his facial features.

Sinister has posed:
To be fair, Nathaniel Essex IS handsome. Classically so, except in the light of day, he's alien. The softer view by night, means you can imagine what it must have been for him to have a skin tone and all the bone structure etcetera, is proportioned as it ought to be; strong jaw, slightly tapered, straight nose, good profile. Mind, he can also perfect himself, but that's neither here nor there. "Sometimes, yes. Sometimes, not so much. You know, when they're down here, I've half a mind to tell them to sod off and go back where they came from, it's overcrowded enough here without tourists, conquerors, terrorists and megalomaniacs. It's so passe." Others might be rather surprised to hear all this, but there's something refreshing in anonymity. "This is our world, why do they have to keep coming along and poking at it?" he chuckles softly, rolling his head on his folded arms to look her way. "I would like to visit another world, incognito though. To see what it is actually like. To borrow from Jules Verne."

Rogue has posed:
"Interesting take on it..." Rogue says this much while staring out into the abyss of the stars. "I mean, I'd tell them to fuck off myself, except I've met some pretty decent people. Others not so decent but, you know.. win some lose some?" She says this much, even if the last bit is an inquiry of sorts. "You know... that's a question to ask... but like... we've been doing the same thing have we not? We sent sattelites out, asking them about themselves, giving them directions as to where to maybe find us. And now, suddenly, we're pissed off that we got found?" She shrugs.

Sinister has posed:
"Haven't you noticed that we, as a rule, are a fickle bunch?" Sinister grins. "We want to know, say hello, then when they come, we get all xenophobic half the time, and run around like ants from a burning nest at others." He chuckles again, then sighs. "It's made a lot of what is here already, feel a bit more comfortable with popping out and saying hello. The world is much larger, even if the universe is smaller. OOh!" He points to the sky of a sudden, as a meteor darts across. "Make a wish..." whispered.

Rogue has posed:
"Yes. Absolutely." Rogue says this and chuckles. "We're weird, and stupid. We get what we ask for and then want more. Humans are the worst... but it's not just humans...and I know this.." Then she nods. "Yeah. It has. But that seems to only fuel the humans more, which sucks..." Then she looks as he points, watching the meteor darting across the skies. Her eyes close. Maybe she makes a wish, and takes a soft breath before letting it out slowly. "Mmn...okay."

Sinister has posed:
Well, well, well.
This has the possibility of being very cartoonish in that there might suddenly be a shooting star of a different kind as one individual is shoved with all the might inherant in the other.

A kiss touches her lips, drinking in the dark, but light. Somehow proper, even if cheeky. Warm breath paints across her cheek. Well. It at least attempts to do just that, but there could be a very strong possibility of aforementioned cartoon moment of THWACK--ploof~ When the hell did he get that close? Well, it's hard to tell when you're both floating.

Rogue has posed:
At one point, Rogue is laying there looking up at the stars and wishing on one. The next, she feels weight on her, and lips on her own. It's a sudden thing, and causes her to flinch until nothing happens but the kiss. No pull of memories or thoughts, just a touch of lips against lips. Though she does - after a moment - try to push him away. "That... what... why?"

Sinister has posed:
"It seemed somehow poignant," Sinister replies, gliding along the horizontal with her push, like he's a shufflepuck on an air-hockey board. He comes to a stop at a safe distance and tucks his hands back behind his head once again. He is aware, no doubt that she didn't want a 'proper kiss' from the likes of him, that there was probably someone specific in mind, but that's not something he can help with. Yet. And then: "I wonder how long it would take me to fly to Mars."

Rogue has posed:
Believe it or not there wasn't a specific person in her mind. There would have been, some time in the past, but that ship has long since sailed. She lifts a hand to touch against her lips and gives a shake of her head. "Just wasn't expectin' it is all..." She says this and then frowns. When he talks about wondering how long it would take him to fly to Mars, she raises a brow and looks to the skies again. "You got a ship or somethin'?"

Sinister has posed:
"No. Just me." Wait, what? Sinister glances over at her again, gives a much more rueful expression and looks back up at the sky until he spots the red planet, hovering about half-way up the curve of the heavens. He helpfully gestures at the red planet. "I don't need to breathe. Nor are vaccuums an issue. I suspect it would take a month or two, but I'd be concerned that I wouldn't find much worthwhile there. My mind wants to find aliens living beneath the surface, but I suspect it would simply be a lot of rock."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue tilts her head a little as he explains and then she shakes her head. "How is it you don't need to breathe? And can just... fly willy nilly through space?" She asks this and then, despite herself, she glides a bit closer to him. "You prolly ain't gonna find much on that rock but...more rock. I doubt there's anything else in our little solar system 'sides us. And I do mean down to the atom, cause I know anything living can be considered an alien species." She offers this and then glances off in some random direction. "...I should probably go find that nice little spot of solitude I wanted to curl up in..." Though, something about her, seems a bit hesitant - but only just.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister nods to this, flipping himself from horizontal to vertical with but a thought, he hovers where he's at, the cloak following the nature of centrifugal force and coming to rest moments afterwards. "It is simply how I am. Think of me like a much less alien looking tartigrade. Those are microscopic things that look like this." And fleetingly he transforms into one, six bobble legs and its wierd eyeless face, with feeding nozzle and armor plating. He turns back moments later. "It is likely why your gift has little to no effect on me in that way. I am ahhhh... a humanoid tartigrade, in many respects. I can live in a volcano, under the sea, in the vaccuum of space and can protect myself indefinitely from invasion. Something in the biomagnetic field." And the very strong telepathic control of his personal space. He crosses his arms again, loosely, nodding though, sensing the hesitancy. "Rogue? If you wish, I can be your little secret. Sometimes, it's nice just to float and look at stars. If you would care to ... simply be for a while, just think about me. Serendipity will be on my side. We will meet again, if you wish."

Rogue has posed:
As he explains and changes, and then explains again, Rogue nods her head. "I mean, I guess that explains a bit.." She doesn't seem phased. Course, when you've been with people who can manipulate themselves, objects, and weather - not much seems to phase you after a while. She's still trying to figure out going to find solitude, or maybe even going back to the mansion, but then Nathaniel gives her a little nudge. A nugget of a different kind. "My little secret?" She looks to him, floats a little closer because she can, because with him there's no danger of taking, because she can't. "...What does being my little secret give me?..." Asking this as she takes off a glove and reaches to touch his cheek, fingertips resting just so against his skin - if he allows it. Like she's trying, and still nothing, so her touch remains. And she revels in it, almost to a point of getting lost in the idea of it.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister does not move. The palm against skin, is warm, but that is all that it is. Nothing. Ever. Happens. At least not in the negative way. She can touch with absolute impunity, this much seems to be clear. "I believe that is up to you. It fundamentally depends on what you want to get out of it, doesn't it?" It's calmly said and he reaches up then, making to take her hand gently and turn it, to bring knuckles to his lips, this time to place the kiss there that was never landed before. "Perhaps, a dance, m'lady. Perhaps merely an assurance. Or a conversation, where you might float in a tank top and cut down jeans, no gloves and no jumpsuit."

Rogue has posed:
"Ah, heh, yeah. Didn't think of it that way...that it could be up to me." Rogue offers, and then Sinister is kissing her knuckles and she smiles. A truly genuine thing. Listening to him further, to the options, to what she could wear around him because there would be no consequence. Her eyes flutter closed a moment at the thought. When they open, she nods once more. "Well. I will keep that in mind, and look forward to seeing you again." Having no idea what she may or may not be getting herself into. It doesn't matter. Her secret. She can get by with that. Gently, her hand pulls from his, and the glove goes back on - but perhaps reluctantly. "...Well then. I suppose I shall see you when next we chance to meet."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister taps his temple. "Just think about me and luck be a lady," that said, he braves to reach out, to touch at her lip if she lets him, a brush of a fingertip and no more. Then he and his cloak, and all the mystery with it, turns to bolt over the forest to some unknown destination.

The young people at the campfire never will know what happened right above their heads.