14021/Song of the South

Song of the South
Date of Scene:	13 December 2021
Location:	Somewhere high class - Manhattan, NYC
Synopsis:	Rogue meets Sinister for dinner and a deal is struck. What interesting times will come...
Cast of Characters:	Sinister, Rogue

---

Sinister has posed:
It has been some time, since the meeting beneath St. Joseph's hospital in Chicago. These interludes of time when Anna-Marie can do as she pleases, all the while thinking about things, being alone... they're filled with activity for others. Sometimes, juggling a thousand different projects means others suffer, but analysis of complex data can sometimes take a long while, even with a super computer and a wealth of experience behind a person. But, it came to pass that Rogue got a text.

It was simple. Meet me at the Grand. Dinner and conversation. Sinister.

Rogue has posed:
Long enough time, and Rogue off doing other things, she almost forgot about the fact that she got some tests done via Sinister. As luck would have it, she'd been in her room at the school most of the day, reading and keeping to herself. So when he texts her with those instructions, she has to wonder if there's a dress code where he's wanting to meet her at. Then she determines it doesn't matter, all her worrying and such, because of who she's meeting. He's made it in the past where nothing could harm her. Would he do it again? Let's test the theory and show up wearing....a purple, off shoulder, sleek ensemble of a dress, slit just so on either outside leg so the skirt can move a bit allowing a flow to each step taken. She wears diamond teardrop earrings and her hair is in a fancy up-do, showing off the curve of her neck and shoulders.

Sinister has posed:
Strange thoughts those, where there's a desire, there's the means. One might wonder if any of the students saw her before she left that impressive school and if they did, whether they gawped, peeking behind doors with small smiles.

The foyer of the Grand is in the style of the turn of the last century. High ceilings, gilded edges, clean and bright and dedicated to the concept of decoration with light itself. Many a place over many an age has styled itself in similar ways, all prompted by one or another incarnation of the palaces of Light that popped up over the many centuries.

Rogue is met by the Maitre D and with all the class that money buys one, shows her through to the dining room, where mirrors deck the walls and chandeliers hang in austrian crystal and polished brass. White glove silver service. And there, she is lead past the string quartet playing for the evening, into the solarium that opens to a private courtyard around the back of the hotel; greenery lavishes the windowsills and a piano sits in the corner, its ivories untickled. But there too, is Doctor Essex, smoking a cigarette on a holder and gazing out into moonlit gardens dappled with snow.

Rogue has posed:
Rogue doesn't think the way she looks will phase Sinister, even if she did get several dropped jaw stares while exiting the school - even if she tried to do it as quietly and covertly as possible. She thanks the Maitre'd and then heels click against pathways where carpet may not be as she approaches the man smoking a cigarette, looking like he just stepped out of the 1920's.

"Color me surprised to hear from you after so long. I almost started thinkin' ya forgot about little 'ol me." She offers, red lips curling up into a smile as she manages her own cigarette - no holder - but she does wait for Nathaniel to offer her a light. "How have you been, Nathaniel?" She knows that name right? Surely she does.

Sinister has posed:
Phase him no. Cause him to smile? No guarantees that won't happen - turning to the sound of clicking heels, he watches her approach with lazy appreciation, rising as she comes to the table, in order to pull the chair out with but a gesture. "You look very elegant, miss Rogue. Altogheter put together, as a lady I knew once, was fond of saying." A zippo with a serpent coiled into the shape of eternity upon it, is held out to her smoke, before he settles himself down once again.

"It would have been sooner, but some things came up that you would likely not believe if I shared," he comments, pauses a moment then offers "...I have been a busy bee. Yourself?" Comment on the use of his real name? None. "I took the liberty of ordering a cocktail or two. I'm fond of hurricanes, but I thought... long island iced tea for you. Feel free to pour it in the begonias if I got that wrong."

Rogue has posed:
"I recently met with an aquaintance who is dealing with being possessed by some spirit of a mean shaman type deity thing. Which I witnessed taking over their mental stability first hand. There ain't much that I won't believe these days. But suit yerself if ya wanna keep yer secrets." Rogue offers, grins, lights her cigarette care of the serpent zippo, and tilts her head. "Nice lighter. Also, a long island is good. I'll drink it. Preference is a gin and tonic - for the record."

There's a pause as she looks around for a moment. "Private digs in a fancy eatin' joint. What's the occasion?"

Sinister has posed:
"I stopped half the planet being labelled as a disaster zone, by preventing a major earthquake cluster off of the coast of Japan, with friends." He says this, then blinks a couple of times, smiles and shakes his head. "Possession is a technique that's tricky to foil against. I recommend you do some research on an individual known as the Shadow King. Talk to your friend, Ororo Munro, if you like. She may be able to offer insight."

Sinister hooks his elbow on the back of his chair, head tilting back as he looks at her down the planes of his cheeks. "I like my privacy, but I also like to make statements. And you, I think, could do with an opportunity to dress up nicely, without worrying." He exhales toward the ceiling, sniffs and offers "...Your gifts work reflexively. I've run your particular bio-pattern against my databases. It all points to one thing: A defense mechanism. You probably could control your gift, if you understood how."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue raises an eyebrow and then lets out a laugh as they're served the first of what may be a few rounds of cocktails. "That just sounds like a regular Tuesday..." She offers then before listening to him further. There's perhaps a bit of a flush to her cheeks as he offers his reasons behind such a venue and then she shakes her head. "Maybe so. It doesn't do me much good to dress up nicely and only be able to show it to a certain few people." She offers, taking a drag off her cigarette, blowing the smoke skyward.

Reaching for her glass then, she takes a long drink of the 'tea' which isn't really tea at all and smiles. "Damn. That's a fine drink." This before he's talking about how her gift works, what he found with her bio-pattern or whatever. "Well that sort of tracks...except you're suggesting that I somehow manage to decipher what is and isn't a threat in order to control my gift? Cause I suppose right now I'm in everything is a threat mode..."

Sinister has posed:
"Correct. I would hasten to say that you never feel particularly safe, Rogue." Sinister replies, taking his hurricane, complete with fruity clusters and bendy loopy straw shaped like a flamingo on acid and sips. It's a long sip, finished off with a smack-lipped sigh. "So Gin and tonic with the occasional long island..." he muses, tilts his head as he studies her. "Differentiating the danger causes a perpetual state of adrenal tension. You could throw a punch at a moment's notice, but you yourself, I wager, are something you feel -is- a danger. So you're in an unfortunate catch twenty two."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue thinks on it a moment and then nods. "I suspect you're right..." Watching as he drinks from his hurricane, done up in such a way that just...both fits and clashes with the person drinking it. Another sip from her own long island is taken before she takes another drag off her cigarette. "Determine how I am not a danger. I've killed people, I've hurt others, there's not a thing I can do to not have my powers activate when I touch someone...so yeah. I am a danger...I can't not be." A pause is given and she takes a slow breath. "It sucks."

Sinister has posed:
"You are dangerous. You should not be a danger though, unless you choose to be. Unfortunately, there in lies the conundrum." Sinister owns his hurricane drinking skills and isn't about to apologize for his tropical fruity drink of booze. Plus flamingo. Ash is flicked from his cigarette and is whisked off to the flames of the fire. "And yet, I can touch you to my little black heart's content." He taps the side of his head with his index finger, making inadvertant smoke rings with the cigarette holder's jerked movement. "So it isn't like you can't turn those powers off. If you couldn't, I couldn't touch you. But you can and I can."

Rogue has posed:
"Okay, now you're talking in circles. I'm not here to get dizzy with some round and round explanations. I get it. I can do damage, in a few different ways, but I should be able to control my powers just like I control whether or not I punch someone or jump in the air to fly." She takes another drink. "I thought you were doing something which caused you to not be affected by my touch. So it's more you protecting yourself, and sometimes others nearby, and less me turning off my powers." She grunts then. "There's a point here, right? Find what cause me to not turn my powers off and then fix it so I finally can?"

Sinister has posed:
"Yes, that is the ultimate plan. Apparently I need to be frank and explicit, not implicit as I usually am." Sinister gives a soft sigh, but gestures at her with the cigarette. "It's all in your head. Your ability to control this is rooted in a perpetual state of fight or flight. And if you were a normal person, you'd have burned through your adrenal glands a long time ago and would be harmless and sluggish and quite possibly dead. But you're not, because of what and who you are." He finishes off his Hurricane as a tray of hors d'oeuvres are brought, set on a nearby podium for the two to select at their desire.

He smiles at the waiter and waits for him to leave before looking back at her. "So, to control yourself, you need to figure out why you're afraid all the time. And I have a pretty good feeling, it's because you yourself, think you are dangerous /all the time/. And thus, you never switch off."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue scowls just a bit at the sigh after his first comment, but she bites her tongue on what she wants to say to it. He's just trying to help her so being an ass to him isn't going to benefit her in any way. "Suppose it doesn't help that the first time my powers turned on...was one of the scariest and worst moments of my life altogether." First kisses aren't supposed to end in someone dying. Yet that's precisely how hers ended...and she's been carrying the guilt of that and the fear of doing it again with her ever since.

After a moment, she stands and moves to where the hors d'oeuvres were set, choosing a few to place on a small plate she grabs from nearby and then she returns to the table. "I will argue that I do not *think* I am dangerous. I *know* I am dangerous. And to convince myself otherwise can be devestating down the line.." And yet... she desires to be 'normal', even if she knows she never will be. A bite of food is taken.

Sinister has posed:
"Well, there are two courses of action available to you. Adrenal suppressant, to see if that actually does have a noticeable effect. And if it does, you know that I am correct. But you can't persist on those indefinitely without severe complications, so what follows if getting to the root of the problem, in a way that you can work through." He taps his head again. "And in that, I doubt that you'll want your friends poking into your head. But you probably wouldn't want me in there either."

He does not get up, mostly because he doesn't have to, floating over a few things he knows are there, like little edible ducklings all in a row. THey settle aesthetically on his plate. "I suppose in my own way, I'm blessed. I know I'm dangerous, I know I'm a monster. I simply don't care. /I/ don't matter in the grand schemes of everything, I only matter to myself, personally. And I can live with myself."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue reaches to her drink and pulls out an ice cube from the top to pop into her mouth and chew while she extinguishes her cigarette. She listens to him intently as well and then takes a slow breath in and out before popping another bite of food into her mouth. Chewing, thinking, buying herself a bit of time. Finally, after washing that bite down with another finishing swallow of her drink, she offers...

"If not my friends, and you're right in thinking I wouldn't want them meddling around my head...why not you? Because you're a monster in a nice suit? Because I've been told to stay away from you? You see how well that worked." She smiles then. "I would want someone I trust, even if not completely...but still. It's not like you'll find any secrets inside my brain that would ruin Charles or the school - and even so I'm sure you're clever enough you don't need secrets to cause any of us harm."

Sinister has posed:
"You would be correct," there's a slight nod from Sinister, but also a smile with it. To call it pleased isn't quite accurate, but it's just a little shy of wicked and if you like bad boys, that's not a good thing. Luckily, it flees the premises fairly swiftly. "Well, it's good to know you trust me at least a little bit. I'm likely the better option to perform psychic surgery of a sort, as frankly, I would not be swayed by the ridiculous desire not to hurt your feelings, or to protect you from all the things that they share with you." Shrugging, he pops an hors into his mouth and savours the flavours for a moment, sucking his cheeks in. "MMmmwah. Delicious," mental note, bring Lucifer here.

"But I suspect the secrets you carry that I'd be interested in have little to do with that school. I don't muchly care what Xavier has done with the place, it serves a purpose. If I -wanted- to end it, I would've a long time ago. I don't. So."

Rogue has posed:
"If you're expecting some sort of protest you're not going to find one. You have, from the beginning, offered help to me in sorting out this whole issue involving my powers. I'm not going to stop just because it gets...uncomfortable." Rogue offers and then shrugs, taking another piece of ice from her glass to chew on. "The food really is good, and their alcohol is top shelf. Though I suspect they have top top shelf liquors for those who want to pay a prettier penny for such delights. I wonder what a gin and tonic would taste like with their best gin..." She then tilts her head and shrugs. "People tend to think I don't know things. I know a few things you've done, and I know how they both helped and hindered. You're a selfish man who normally only does things if - in some part of the run - you benefit. I don't know what you'll benefit from by helping me, but honestly, I don't care. If it helps me in the long run finally be able to control my powers so I can have a somewhat normal life even as a mutant... I'm willing to give it a shot."

Sinister has posed:
"Lets find out, shall we?" He never calls for it, but very shortly after, a top notch gin and tonic is brought with nothing to decorate it but a slice of rich green lime. It's set infront of Rogue with a bow and a withdrawal.

"Eggh, I'll take that analysis, with only minor quibbles. I'm not selfish, so much as I'm differently motivated. Selfish suggests I don't care about anyone but myself, which is not the case. Vainglorious, egotistical, amoral, snappy dresser, I'll give you. I just am not terribly altruistic." He pops another hors in his mouth and chews it idly as he considers her.

"It's a deal then. I'll help you sort your head out. And in return, well, I'm sure I'll find something worthwhile."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue inclines her head to the waiter who brings the drink and then eyes Nathaniel a moment before reaching to lift the glass. She runs the lime around the rim and then takes a slow sip. Smooth. Too smooth if she's honest. That's the kind of drink that can get you in trouble because its pretty much just slightly watered down liquor that... practically tastes like water. "Oh my, that's delicious. Dangerous. But delicious..."

There's a half shrug from her. "Okay. I'll concede that you're not selfish and that was probably the wrong word on my part. And fine. Suppose once you know what you want from me you'll surely let me know." Then she considers, takes another drink.

"When do we start?"

Sinister has posed:
Mother's ruin. Oh but good gin is very appreciable. A cognac is brought for Sinister and what amounts to several main courses on silver trays, revealed by a small team of wait staff, for the diners to select exactly what they want. The dishes are also explained expertly, with slight french accents from the speaker.

Sinister watches, a smile forming on his face behind the cognac.

"I'll call on you in your sleep. I have quite a few hours of the day that I simply spend contemplating my eyelids. I might as well be productive." He murmurs. "Try the veal."

Ohh, but this will be so much fun, won't it?

Rogue has posed:
Rogue raises a brow but then nods her head. "Suppose that's as good a time as any..." She offers and then looks to the dishes as they're offered and explained. Upon Sinister's suggestion, she motions, and indeed selects the veal.

Fun is subjective. Interesting might be the better notion.