14777/A Rogue and her Doctor

A Rogue and her Doctor
Date of Scene:	10 March 2023
Location:	Kitchen - Xavier's School
Synopsis:	Rogue and Sinister enjoy a catch up chat in the Kitchen of Xavier's Mansion.
Cast of Characters:	Rogue, Sinister

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Rogue has posed:
There's a few things going on in the kitchen and for anyone with a sharp nose could likely tell it's a Southerner doing the cooking. Bowls on the counter are filled with a thick milk mixture, flour and panko crumbs respectively. There's a tray of battered chicken pieces waiting to be fried, the sounds of frying going on - in a cast iron pan so it's shallow frying - and a couple pots are boiling away with potatoes in one and corn in the other. Rogue, herself, is dancing to the tune of 'Feel Like a Woman' playing on speakers somewhere in the kitchen, loud enough to hear but low enough to not disturb other rooms. Her hair is up, her clothing is...jeans and a tee-shirt...and over all she seems is a fairly decent mood.

Sinister has posed:
The lure of chicken? No, not really. The need to pace like a caged tiger, more like. The need to move around and not contemplate the hand of fate so vigorously. He enters silently and given that Rogue's not known for her heightened senses and there's no immediate danger being posed, with the potential exception of getting fat splattered, nothing much would alert her. Sinister therefore just watches from just inside the door -- crimson eyes look from her to the food to the cupboard where there might just be tea and back, in utter silence.

Until: "I'm going to assume logic dictates that the tea is going to be in the cabinet closest to the kettle?"

Rogue has posed:
That voice. That's not a voice that she should be hearing from inside the school walls. She turns and looks to Sinister, but for some reason she's not really jump-scare surprised and just, generally surprised. "Well that depends. Tho I s'pose you like yer tea hot. So yeah. Pick yer poison. Top cabinet on the far right." She motions then before taking the current chicken finishing frying out of the skillet and then sets it on some kitchen roll to drain off. "So, what freak storm drove ya here...and how the hell is it that no ones soundin' off alarms that yer on the property?" Like she hasn't already heard the alarms and there's been word spread about 'guarded visitors'.

Sinister has posed:
Straight from the horse's mouth, right? "Thank you," with a click of heels and ramrod straight back, Sin then walks himself to the cabinet and artfully opens both doors to look up and over the selection. With the professor having occupied this place before the here and the now, there's some early grey up there. Smiling pleased, it's reached for and brought down, a tea-bag sniffed as it proves to be a good cut and not generic and he goes about filling the kettle, all without the use of a single telekinetic assist.

"Well, a part of me is wondering why I bothered with here, as I should've known things would end up awkward, but I had a need to borrow the machine in your basement. And then there was the persuading, the insults, more persuading, more insults and..." sigh "...the most touching of promises made to someone that was not me, by the Archangel of the light. I suppose I'm in a holding pattern. Do you suppose there's lemon?"

Rogue has posed:
"Fridge. Middle drawer. There's probably some already cut up too." Rogue offers as she begins to drop more chicken pieces into the hot oil. "Yer lookin' ta use Cerebro?" Asking this as she finishes dropping the chicken and then checks the potatoes to see if they're fork tender. Then she looks back at him again. "Touching promises? Archangel of the light? Did you hit yer head on somethin', Doctor Essex? Yer actin' kinda..." She makes a sort of gesture. "Weird."

Sinister has posed:
"I'm not quite my usual sharp-witted and eloquent self, no." Sinister obliges an incline of the head in gratitude and hunts in the fridge. A couple of the other offerings in there get a thorough hairy eyeballing, as processed cheese is still a bit of a mystery to the man -- evidenced by him picking up a plastic covered slice from the container and flopping it about a bit, before rather gingerly returning it to its unnaturally yellow siblings. "Lucifer, star of morning. The archangel of the light. He made a deal on my behalf -- the alternative would have been to abandon all hope, or witness most of my mind and memories being annihilated by the sudden invite of a lot of X-men to fix a problem I never asked them to fix. Have I mentioned that it's really quite unsettling to be -this- hated?"

Rogue has posed:
Rogue works on straining the potatoes, turning off the heat they were on and then puts them back into the pot, returning it to the stove and adding real butter and mashing them up. Then slowly adding cream. Then salt and pepper to taste. "Lucifer?" Then the other names. "You're talking about the literal devil...that's...are you sure you didn't get like a concussion on yer head or somethin'? The devil's just a fairytale..." More stirring of the potatoes and then she checks the chicken. "No. Ya never mentioned. I don't think you've ever really cared..."

Sinister has posed:
"Ah. Well, it is. I probably didn't care, but I can't remember why. I have some memories, but not all of them, I suppose. I do know you though. I know I do." Sinister informs that, then glances at the kettle, as it refuses to boil quick enough. There is a sigh and a careful hand to the switch, which seems to make it get a wiggle on at least. He looks from it, to her with a shake of his head though. "That does smell quite smashing by the by..." eyes back to the kettle. "No concussion. But he is quite real. Why, there are a number of gods and celestial beings walking the earth, he's just another of them. I don't feel as though I'm particularly religious though."

Rogue has posed:
"I prolly should be religious. Most people from 'sippi are. But af'er all the shit I've been through with my powers? God can rightly go fuck herself." Rogue says this and then smiles. "Thanks. I got a picnic date and I wanted ta make some stuff for it. Course, he's gonna be makin' stuff too...but I think a little of both our cookin' will make the date perfect." She offers this and then looks back to Sinister. "Okay. So the Devil's real, and you've...lost memories? So... do you remember all the help you've been given me? With my powers I mean. Helpin' me figure out how to control them..."

Sinister has posed:
That question has him frowning and staring at the wall, or rather -through- it as the kettle boils. On automatic, he pours the liquid into the cup and then introduces the tea bag, carefully and cunningly twisting the string so that the mug handle holds it firm. The lemon is simply squeezed lightly and dropped in. He then focuses back on what he just achieved without looking at it, blinks and looks over to her. "I think so. I kept notes -- although they're by no means complete when it comes to some things. I have more complete understanding of complicated ongoing research than more psycho-social endeavors. Your gift is... emotionally grounded, I believe. Anna-Marie, yes?"

Rogue has posed:
Rogue would wince at her real name being used, but for some reason - despite the word gone round that Sinister should not be trusted - she's trusted him to use it regardless. "Yes. That's right. We've been workin' on me tryin' to quell those emotions...and that's been helpin' keep my powers from activatin' all automatic like." The freshly fried chicken is added to the other pile on the kitchen roll and the fire turned off from under the cast iron. "So...they gonna let you use Cerebro then? That's awful trustin' of them...no offense. But some folks around here prolly wouldn't be too keen on you darkenin' their doorstep."

Sinister has posed:
"On the proviso that my mind is theirs to do with as they please, when they find it -- and that the version of myself that did this diservice is Scott's to deal with. I'm honestly not sure if that's the smartest idea that they've ever had, but perhaps I'm underestimating. Or overestimating." He shakes his head, takes a sip of the piping hot tea and doesn't seem to notice the scalding heat. "I don't believe I, or anyone else, has the luxury of time, or I would have built my own. That I -did- keep extensive notes on and apparently, I'm quite the technological savant." He raises eyebrows at her over the brim of the cup, in a 'fancy that!' way. "I'm rather glad I could help. I feel as if that actually achieved something."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue raises a brow. "You mean they're gonna let you find yourself but then not let you have it all back? The fuck is wrong with them?" She says this while spooning the potatoes into a couple of tupaware bowls. "I don't think that's fair at all, but then, I might be a little bias." She also can't really override that decision so she's just making commentary at this point. "So where's yer devil friend now?"

Sinister has posed:
Sinister halfnods toward the door and the way out into the manse proper. "Distracting himself so he doesn't break things out of bordom, or get overly angry about things. When I say that you haven't seen terrible and awe inspiring until you've seen an actual archangel on the rampage, I mean it. I don't think the various artists over the ages have ever got that right, not even the Raphaelites." Long past history, he apparently has a good grip on. Modern? work in progress. "AS noted, hatred. It tends to make one blind. And it also makes me quite surprised in my own way, given that the heros are fundamentally at odds with everything I tend to consider as a hero." He looks from the door to her. "And the villain of the piece gave without asking. I beleive the term bizarroworld actually has some merit here." He frowns. "Also, Logan appeared to have been the voice of -reason- in all that scenario."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue gives a little grin when Sinister mentions Logan's name. "So that's what he was so busy with... makes sense now..." This much said before she tries to hide her school girl grin and finishes packing up the foods made. "I'm sorry it's come down to this...but...maybe there's a reason for it yeah? Maybe this will help things...you could even begin to be trusted by those within these walls..." Trying to be helpful, probably sucking at it. "How's the tea?"

Sinister has posed:
"Peppery and delicious," Sinister replies, finding a spot to sit himself in the kitchen area, with a long look at the door. "My ears are burning," he observes, shrugs then looks at the surface of the drink. "Perhaps. I feel a little as if they are cutting their noses off to spite their faces in a manner though. I..." he frowns again. He's been doing quite a lot of that and looking at his hands, white as snow as they are, he concentrates, eyes narrowing. It takes a little while, but human colour floods them and features assume a face not idealized by years of working at it, but more ordinary. All the little asymmetries of a life that was hard, as it was back then, even for those born with a silver spoon. One aged quicker. By forty, you often looked older - he looks about that age though, with crow's feet and deep lines but otherwise a well groomed self. Grey blue eyes, too. Like storms. "I don't like the notion that the part of me that is loose might peform travesties against those that truly don't deserve it. But I also feel next to useless in some respects, like I've lost a /vast/ trove of understanding."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue's phone dings every few moments, and she answers it with smiles and giggles before setting it down one final time for the moment. She watches as Sinister re-forms himself to be more human like in nature, which doesn't phase her at all considering she's seen other mutants do the same and in more drastic fashion. "Well why don't they let you at least get your memories and knowledge back and then do away with...whatever is left?" Asking this as she marks the bowls and tubaware with her name so no one else eats on it before putting it into the fridge. She's left enough out, however, that she is able to make a plate. Some of the fried chicken, mashed potatoes and corn on the cob with a knob of butter slowly melting over the kernels. She sets this plate in front of Sinister and gives him a knife and fork. "Sorry there's no gravy for the potatoes...but they should be tasty plain too...please, eat."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister shrugs, oh-so-faint, almost like that sort of reaction was alien to him always. He does however, take the plate with a gracious nod, even trying a bite or two. "Ours is not to reason why the norms of another are as they are. I presume I could delve in and find out, but with but a few exceptions, that particular activity has been headache inducing. Mind, I am wondering how much I can glean. And in fact, if they are capable of destroying an ephemeral construct when in another existence. I was always particularly stubborn and occasionally intractable, it always took me a while to change my mind when I had landed upon an obsession. I imagine that my more knowledgeable, if not the wiser of me, is quite capable of holding itself together." He looks to her, then his gaze goes unfocused, pupils swelling all the way out. "Oh. Oh dear. Where is the lake? I am ... afraid there might be a Cajun fellow here about to be very much in trouble."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue frowns a little, and while she tries to understand most of what Sinister is saying, a bit of it is lost on her. "I s'pose your right..." Her phone pings again and she looks at it, tilting her head and gives another giggle. This is before Sinister asks where the lake is. "Oh, uhm. Out the back door and down a ways. Ya can't miss it." Then she sighs. "So your Devil is talking to Remy. That ought to be an interesting conversation..." A pause. "And if it's all the same, I'm bein' enticed to go meet someone upstairs so...perhaps this is where we part ways for now?"

Sinister has posed:
Sinister nods, a little hastily. "Thank you for understanding. I don't think anyone needs to be incinerated in a tower of hellfire today, do you?" He tips an imaginary hat, but does leave WITH the plate of food. Maybe it can be a food-shield or somesuch thing. "Oh, ah..." A pause "...and do enjoy yourself, mmm?" out! Out.