14043/What Dreams May Come

What Dreams May Come
Date of Scene:	29 December 2021
Location:	Random Sinister Lab
Synopsis:	Sinister visits Rogue in a dream to get to the root of her mutant power
Cast of Characters:	Rogue, Sinister

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Rogue has posed:
Some time after their last meeting where Rogue agreed to subject herself to Nathaniel Essex digging around her mind - but not as long of time as has often passed between them seeing each other - Rogue shows up for appointment number one. Are they appointments? Meetings? Science experiments? She's not sure and she's fairly certain it falls within the 'less known the better' category. None the less, given she knows a few locations of Sinister Labratories, she shows up at one - unsure of just what is going to take place and she's here without an invite. Just sort of...showed up...bored and wanting something to do so why not have that something be have your mind messed with for a little while? There's even a chance Sinister won't be there, and at that point she'll likely just go for a fly about.

Sinister has posed:
Showing up at labs unannounced and uninvited has produced problems for individuals in the past. WHole vast oceans of problems in point of fact. But maybe the Field mouse sneaks under that line? St Michael's in Chicago has a wing. It might be that every major hospital has one. And there's the pop ups that he just takes over. Where IS a Sinister when you need one though? Apparently not in residence, or if he is he's disguising himself. Orderlies and clerks, receptionists and researchers, they agree to take messages, inform that the doctor isn't here at the moment...

So a flight is probably what happens. Or at least getting out some frustrations and seeing some alone-time sights. Eventually, she'll have to succumb as most mortal beings do, to sleep. Maybe in her bed, maybe in a motel or a dive someplace, but eventually... Sleep.

Dreams are sometimes just bizarre. Jumbled things that paint out a day of obsessions and anxieties, or just weirdnesses when you're attempting to figure out how to process everything. This one smacks of where Rogue felt safest in her past. With the brotherhood perhaps. Or under Mystique's wing. Or maybe even before her power manifested back in the South.

Rogue has posed:
That flight was something else. Taking out frustrations, yes, but also just allowing her to clear her mind. She's happiest when she's flying around without a care in the world. Not really wanting to go back to the mansion, she ponies up the money to stay in a motel of sorts - one that she knows is mutant friendly. Not that there's much need for that, really, but you can also never be too sure.

Safety comes in waves for Rogue. In the South, before her mother disappeared, when she was just a little girl growing up in a hippie commune. Then it skips to her times with Cody...just before her powers manifested. Mystique was a safe haven too, for a bit. But where does she land? Entirely? Likely in the memory that contains her mother, her youth, where she felt the safest. No harm could come to her with her parents around and nature by her side. Just a girl trying to learn how to survive in a big, bad world.

Sinister has posed:
Safety is a precious thing. It solidifies in this memory, until the air is fragrant with memories of that youth. Leaf litter, honeysuckle, lobelia, the smell of sun on a lazy afternoon, where the sidewalk or packed earth has been baked. And the sounds; local birdsong, larks and blue birds, the familiar drumming of a woodpecker beak on a trunk. People chatting, extended family, the words unheard, but familiar nevertheless. Even sensation can be dreamed, the feel of cool after sunshine, of someone stroking her hair.

"Talk to me," the familiar voice is somehow kind here, less arrogant. Less mildly amused at everyone else. His presence 'fits' with the scenario.

Rogue has posed:
"This is nice." Rogue speaks, lifting a hand to tuck a stray strand of hair back behind her ear. "I remember this. Momma was still around...I really do miss her, y'know? Ain't ever been the same with her gone..." The confession comes as easy as her answering any other question, just flowing off the tongue and for a moment that seems to confuse her. Then she just accepts it. "But this is just a dream, innit? Cause you're here. You ain't s'posed ta be here..."

Sinister has posed:
"That's the thing with me, I pop up all over the place. You never know. But this is probably a dream." Sinister has his hair short back and sides, longer on top. He has a Rett Butler flavour to his decorum and attire, white sleeves rolled up, black slacks. He smiles at her, looks beyond at the commune. "Who was she? Your mother, that is. Show me."

The invite hangs as easy as a summer breeze.

Rogue has posed:
Rogue looks over to Sinister for a moment before she looks back to the surroundings. In a moment, a younger looking woman - probably in her mid to late twenties - comes into view. She has long, chestnut hair and wears a crown of flowers. Her laughter is like gentle flowing water and she seems happy. It's likely the best Rogue can do with her memories of her mother, who disappeared when she was young. Though there's another, a similar looking woman but a bit older, who is also among the memory. "That's my Aunt Carrie...she and I were keen until momma left."

Sinister has posed:
"Hmm. But when your momma went, something changed there?" Nathaniel asks, leaning on a hickory stump and gazing over the women. A gesture toward Carrie and he brings her closer, though she doesn't really pay attention. Looks over her features, looks at her expressions specifically. Then with a look at Rogue again, he gestures with a curl of fingers to the southern belle, as if beckoning things forth from her.

A child doesn't understand what they see, but they see a lot more than people really give them credit for and are governed not by reason, but by emotion. They'll see an expression, hear a tone of voice, remember things that they wouldn't put together properly, but he? He is an expert at this kind of thing. The pulling out of the peripheral story of this time in Rogue's life. Vague memory becomes in this instant, much more like an actual, real, honest to god moment that's happening /right now/ replayed out of her subconscious. "Lets see who else was here, when your momma was. Who looked at you, who saw her. Do you know who your daddy was?"

Rogue has posed:
"I do. Momma and daddy were both around, married even, when I was a kid. They were happy too..." Rogue looks again and this time a man, not much older than her mother, comes around. Brown hair, green eyed, hippie type. The whole commune of course, was a hippie commune. There's others, friends, but Rogue only remembers them as random people, faces that have no real defining features in the moment. "We were just one big happy...enjoying life and all that it had to offer." Now? Now they're likely getting ready for lunch or supper. Real southern treats of course. "I feel like this is only a short time before momma disappeared..I remember them talking about some sort of ritual... like a spirit walk or something..."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister's hand flicks to the side, bringing out the little girl rogue, so that he can get a feel for how young she actually was when this was occuring. The woman after all, is remembering the safe time, but the child. How old -was- she? "A ritual," he narrows his eyes, stepping closer to her. What was vague, feels like mint was poured onto it, bringing clarity of thought. "Remember what you heard."

Rogue has posed:
Little Rogue, probably just about nine or ten (maybe, nothing specifies) comes running around the corner happy as can be. Watching herself, Rogue actually smirks, and then glances to Sinister again. "They were tryin' ta reach some place called the Far Banks. It was...some Native American ritual that they thought might bring them closer to nature or somethin'..." She recalls. "But it went wrong. I dunno how...wasn't there and daddy never talked about it much. I just know it went wrong and momma disappeared, never came back." Several things sort of changed all at once then, but Rogue endured until she couldn't.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister flicks his hand, brings the recollections to the fore. When the adults were different than they had been. When a child doesn't really understand why the adult is distant and somehow compounds the blame on themselves. That they must be wrong somehow. It ends up at a night when a little girl who looked a lot like her momma, perceived that she was broken, when the blame came truly out of grief. It's a little thing, but standing beside Rogue, Sinister puts his hands in pockets, head tilted, looking at a vignette frozen in time. It's nothing more than a light having gone out a little. The enduring until she couldn't.

"So, you came into tween years, twelve... thirteen? Cody was a townie, wasn't he? Show me."

Rogue has posed:
Townie indeed. A boy from school. Someone that she could talk to about anything and he would listen. No judgement, no questions, just an ear for a ventful teenager. A strapping lad, football player, bright and handsome - probably any girls dream but he and Anna Marie fell for one another. She stops the memory just before that, cuts it off completely. "...I don't..." Hesitant, scared. Even now. Even in the dream. "...I wanna wake up..."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister's eyes narrow on the sudden cut-off, looking at the empty negative space in the mind's eye that speaks of the trauma. He looks at the space, looks at her, steps up to stare at her in profile when she's frightened, when she wants to wake up and tells him so. "No fear. No pain. These are reactions housed in a squishy part of a brain that I'm currently in control of. I did say, this would not be easy but your friends are liable to do the kind thing. I will not." There's a scalpel-like slice into memory and it isn't the moment that it happened that comes to mind, but the moments RIGHT before it.

THe fear and anxiety, the excitement, the worry that she's not good enough, but that this is going to happen. Everything feels ten times stronger when you're a teenager. When those hormones first kick in. And with a swipe of his hand like he was spreading cards, he paints each moment as a transparent slide from /then/.... all the way back.

From when happiness and safety started crumbling and the feelings of there being something wrong with her began. None of which was her fault, but we'll just highlight again that a child does not feel what the adult knows is a truth.

Rogue has posed:
At this point Rogue was officially a run away, and was dubbed Rogue by her friends. She couch surfed, she slept on the streets, and she still managed to go to school for a little while. Then there was Cody, and a walk in the park. Two teenagers without a care in the world. The fear is there, fueled by hormones and angst. A sudden kiss and then there it is. The manifestation of her powers, her taking the life force from Cody. Fear, uncertainty, disbelief, it all floods into her mind and after dealing with it all - she ran once more. Disappearing for a while, her memories are of her living on the streets, wearing clothing that covered all of her so there would be no accidental skin to skin contact. She learns to survive on the streets fairly well and keeps her head down most of the time at this point. Still ever so frightened and confused even if she hides it well.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister clicks his fingers and all of that is frozen. She's on the streets in baggy all covering attire, but she's also standing beside him, looking at herself. He looks at the rogue that was on the streets 'Hey, she's gone rogue.' lets take that nickname and go with it. He folds his arms loosely, leans again against a hickory stump, because once more, they're at the hippie commune and she's in the middle of the drum circle, still homeless and on the lam, but there too.

"This is where it started. At your safe place. This is where you started to fear yourself and that you were the bad thing." He gestures at the rogue in a puddle-huddle, looks at her sidelong. "This is the root of why you don't ever feel safe, like you're the bad element. We'll have to come back here, you know. And you're likely not going to like it. But this is where it -really- began. That moment with Cody was the unfortunate side-effect of a whole passel of anxiety that was already building and had arrived by the time a boy showed interest. That's the effect that set you to how you are now. But the root? It's here. You aren't going to like me much by the time we're done, but I find I don't really care so much about that. THat's not why you let me in, is it Anna-marie?"

Rogue has posed:
"I don't think you ever really care about whether or not people like you at the end of things. So long as you get results." Rogue offers to him and then she looks over to her dressed in whatever covered the most of her skin and then down to her own feet. "It wasn't all bad..." She offers and then looks at him peripherally. "I let you in because I figured, of all people, you could get me answers without sugar coating. I never said I wasn't gonna fight it, and most of it ain't me...but my brain...whatever you claim to have hold of. You'd do whatever it takes, regardless of feeling, or hell, in spite of even." She shrugs then.

Sinister has posed:
"Correct. It's a weird thing of late. I've been inclined to doing the /right/ thing. In spite of, regardless of. It will probably bite me in the backside, in the end." Sinister wrinkles his nose. "But that's the fruit of a different labour. I'm still Sinister as I am reminded of in other endeavors. Maybe I'll cancel myself out, who knows?" He laughs softly to himself and looks at her again.

"Next time, just think before you dream. You don't need to be in one of my labs, for me to reach you. You've already let me in, sugar pie." -- She's used that term herself in quipping many a time. And then, the 'extra' is gone. She is alone, able to dream whatever she wishes to, with her mind her own once again. Mostly. You never know, with these Sinister types.