Rogue meets a Rogue

January 07, 2017:

Rogue runs into Peter Quill, just as Quill is attempting to get rid of some unfinished business.



NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

New York City. One of the top cities in the US one thinks of when they say 'bright lights, big city'. Glittering gems of blinking signs for shops throw reflections as the sun slowly sinks towards the horizon. Once the eyes slide down from the glitter and into the deeper shadows of the city itself its obvious that there is more than just lights in this town. It is a city filled with people of all shapes, sizes, and definitions.

One specific person is in a corner of an alley, slightly off the more well traveled paths of the desinens of New York. Dressed in a slightly oddly cut red-leather long coat that has seen possibly more action than he has. One Peter Quill is…at the moment…

Angrily attempting to shove something into a dumpster.

Something that looks somewhat like a blue-skinned arm.

"Freeking bounty hunters," Grumbles the Irrepressible Space Rogue Adventurer as he works. "Here I was. Off for a nice walk! Not doing anything. Minding my own business when /bam/, suddenly Kree in an alleyway! I don't even get why you're after me anyway. I mean I really did you a favor…"

Rogue may be a teacher at a prestigious boarding school in one of the wealthiest counties in the United States, but that doesn't mean she has to be a boring snob… all the time.

As of right now, Anna-Marie was in Manhattan, she'd rented a room and was just spending the weekend bumming around the city away from Westchester. The 23 year old was currently headed to a party she'd heard about down near Chinatown somewhere. Sure, she could fly… but she'd rather use her favorite mode of transportation since she was a teenager… a skateboard. A skateboard with an airbrushed artwork on it of ALF, the old tv show character.

Wearing a long trenchcoat similar to Star-Lord's own, her's was dark brown leather however and it had black X's burned into the shoulders on either side. Beneath that she had on a tanktop and some black short-shorts with fishnet stockings on her legs that only showed a little bit of her thighs, due to the rest of her legs being sunk into dark leather heeled boots that went up above her knees, the boots had several gold buckles along the outer sides.

Riding through the alleyway toward where Peter was stuffing that 'dead body' into the dumpster, Rogue's board wheels could be easily heard as she leapt over a puddle of water in the alley and then rolled right up to Peter… and eyed him.

"What… the hell is this…" Rogue said, sanding on her skateboard now, halted, her right gloved hand on the right hip of her shortshorts, green eyes locked onto Peter.

Spinning quickly the pilot's eyes widened in surprise. One hand droping to the butt of a…well…lets be realistic it looks like some kind of cosplay ray gun he his eyes sweep around to find the source of the noise and the voice and land on…

…some hot chick on her way to a party…

They is a pause before his entire stance relaxes and he leans one shoulder against the side of the dumpster. "Hello there…" He drawls…

And yes, there is most of what looks like a blue skinned hand, a /huge/ blue skinned hand, poking out of the side of the dumpster.

"…evening." A pause. "…nice night out for skateboarding." A longer pause. "Oh man is that ALf?"

Rogue's head was covered up ontop by a dark green wool-knit beanie, but her brown/white hair was sticking out on either side and it was draping down her shoulders and back, having been blowing around gently as she'd skateboarded up to him.

When he spoke she didn't really react to it, she just stepped off her board and walked toward him and his blue… arm… Rogue's sparkling green eyes were circled-around by black eyeliner which made them stand out even more. She eyed him, and then looked to the hand and inspected it a bit closer.

"This thing is real… what the hell, man." She said over at him, her voice was laced with a syrup-y thick Southern accent. Rogue's eyes went down to see that 'space gun' that he had on his hip and she groaned.

"Shit." She said and turned around back toward her board, her leather coat waving around her booted legs. "You're one'a them damn space nerds, ain't ya?" She groaned and bent down to pick up her skateboard.

Turning back around to face him, board now under her right arm against her hip. "Who'd ya kill? Bette'ah not'a been anyone I like…" She warned him in her husky dusky voice.

"Thank god," The man seemed to relax, head slumping slightly before he pulls it back up to grin towards her. "I thought I was gonna have to explain something about space aliens to someone who didn't know a thing." A deep breath is taken before he turns a grin back towards her.

Also turned into his belt, right next to that blaster, is a walkman. An /old/ one. Cassette even.

"Alright first off I'm not a nerd, I'm a pilot. Second off I didn't kill anyone…" A pause. "…I don't think." Levering up the top of the dumpster he calls in. "Hey! Hey jerkface! You dead?"

There is a pained groan from withing the trash.

A nod and then he drops the lid back down. "See, no one dead. No harm done. And unless you like giant jerkface blue skinned Kree bounty hunters I'm pretty sure he's no friend of yours."

That grin again, teasing and bright. "And I bet you have better taste than to be friends with that kind." A pause.

"Oh yeah! Where /are/ my manners. I'm Star-lord. And you are?"

While Peter did his explaining, Rogue had put her skateboard into a side pocket on his leather duster that was large enough (by design) to hold the board, leaving ALF's eyes just picking up out of the girl's trenchcoat.

A moment later and Rogue was lighting a cigarette with a bic lighter and staring at Peter while he showed off that the man inside the dumpster wasn't, in fact, dead. An inhale drag was taken on the cigarette and then Rogue plucked it from her dark red painted lips and she blew the smoke out to the side, then re-centered her eyes onto Peter.

At his question of her name, she finally replied. "Anna-Marie Elizabeth D'Ancanto Carlyle." She said in a dry tone of her husky voice. "But most just call me Rogue." She put the cigarette back into her lips and then put her right hand ontop of the nose of her skateboard where it was 'holstered' on her side.

"And no, my taste in men is terrible." She shook her head and spoke past the cigarette. Her black encircled, green pupiled, eyes stared at him… in a very judgmental sort of way. She pulled the cigarette out of her lips with her left gloved hand.

"So what happened then… 'Star-Lord'… you two lovebirds get int'a fight or somethin?" She asked him, showing the edges of a mischievous grin on her lips.

"What a coincidence!" Quill's grin doesn't fade at all as he leans back against the alley wall, arms crossing over his chest as he gives the smoking woman a once over. "I'm a terrible man."

His eyes dance, amusement writ easy to see there as he tilts his head to one side. One finger taps out a rhythm on his elbow. "So, Anna-Marie Elizabeth D'Anacanto Carlyle, known as Rogue. I guess that means we should do dinner sometime. Make sure the theory is proved correct."

Yes. This is totally how Peter Quill works. Meet a girl in an alley while stashing a body, ask her out.

"Naw," He waves a hand. "I saved a planet from a madman. Course not everyone thought he was a madman so…" He kicks the dumpster, drawing a groan from its occupant.

"I mean really though. If a guy tries to blow up a planet, pretty sure the guy is a madman."

It was actually a very true statement about herself, Anna-Marie had bad taste in men, and she loved to flirt… So when he made this bold come-on all it did was work on her.

The southern belle had a smile spread over her dark red lips and she pulled the cigarette from them once more and glanced down at the alleyway floor. "Charmin' too." She looked up at him and smirked. "I mean… as far as Garbage Men go." She gently dipped her chin in a singular nod.

"Save a planet? By… recyclin' right?" She asked, her head tipping to the side and her right curved dark eyebrow lofting up over said eye.

"Ain't you just as noble as you are a fittin' image'a Star Trek supe'ah fan." Rogue flicked her cigarette at the puddle of trash water near the dumper that he was leaned on.

"Lets say you got this 'dinner date' out with my wonde'ahful self?" She asked him then. "Where would a noble, planet savin', kree stompin', red jacket wearin' balle'ah like you take a girl like me out for a bite t'eat?" She was playing his game as best she could, swaing her hips here and there as she was full of energy tonight and just trying to enjoy her weekend.

"Naw, more by kicking the shit out of the guy trying to blow it up. He was a jackass anyway." Quill replies with a wave of his hand, as if its nothing. Just glossing over all he went though to do that. "Me and my crew. Call ourselves the Guardians of the Galaxy. Mostly cause it was catchy."

There is a thoughtful look on his face for a moment before he slowly nods in agreement. "I have indeed been called noble before. But I've always been more of a Star Wars than Trek fan. I have to say, Kirk was a personal hero of mine."

That should be highly obvious.

"Well…" His drawl slows as his eyes follow every single sway she's making. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and say…somewhere with a dance floor and good food." A pause. "And a bar. I think I know a few of those round here…though…" A smirk at that. "…not all of them, if you have suggestions. I'm a bit new in town you see."

It was tough being Rogue. Here's a guy, attractive… looks older than her by a bit, but she didn't care about age that much overall. She'd be down for doing almost whatever with him if he asked her, but she… knew there were limitations to it all, her 'curse' that never would be shaken.

Rogue grinned at what he said. "I was on my way to a bar… club thing… Some friends were gonna be there. I wasn't gonna get out'n dance, cause, well… I got some issues that keeps me from doin' that, ya know? Baggage'n such." She'd had to tell so many guys in the past ten years about her mutation that she was sick to death of hearing the words inside her own head, let alone letting them get anywhere near the tip of her tongue.

"You probably won't wanna be anywhere near me once I spill the beans on that stuff too." She gently nodded her head a couple of times. "But trust me when I say I'd do any'a that with you. Nerd that ya are." She teased him and showed a big grin. She glanced at the dumpster with the alien in it and she wondered if everything this red-coat was saying to her was true or just a bunch of hooey, either way, he was amusing to her.

Well now he was curious.

Quill does have a fairly good sense of when someone was holding something back. He also has a fairly well developed sense of when not to push it. Now sometimes he ignores that sense. Alright. To be fair most of the times he ignores that sense.

Its just how he is.

"No dancing? With legs like that? I'm pretty sure thats a crime on at least a half-dozen planets I've visited. But…I ain't one to judge. So I can dance, and you can make fun of me while I dance." There was a smile there, just on the edge of wicked as he pushed off the wall and strolled towards her.

He's agile, movements practiced and confident. That near-quick draw he had when she first spoke showed long familiarity with his weapons. His manner though isn't even remotely threatening. Its less gunslinger and more frat boy.

A smirk does curve across his features at something though. "My crew includes a raccoon, a sentient tree, a beserker and an assassin. Lets just say I'm open minded when it comes to people. So…whenever you feel like spillin' the beans you let me be the judge of the rest. Till then…well…we'll figure something out."

A pause again before he adds. "And I'm totally not a nerd."

The Southern Belle listened to the man in the red say all of these things and she showed a very distant smirk/smile tug at the corner of her darkly painted lips. She took a few seconds to 'think' … and then she walked toward him, right up on him… stepping right into his comfort zone and looking up at him because he was a little bit taller, her green eyes were close, as was everything around them and below them. She smelled like cigarettes and lavender at the same time.

"Don't move." She whispered in a sultry voice.

Rogue's right hand came up, the leather of her brown longcoat's sleeve crinkling audibly, she pulled her glove off and then lifted her naked hand up to the side of his face (shouldh he step away from having her this close of course) and stopped it… right next to his skin. Her green eyes flickered across his face, like she was memorizing every imperfection and perfection.

"I'm a mutant." She whispered further, her breath likely able to be felt from this distance.

"If I touch you with any inch of my bare flesh, I'll suck your soul from within your body… and tranfe'ah it right int'a my own." She darted her eyes down him and then back up to his own once more. "Your thoughts, your emotions… your personality, anything' and everythin' that makes you, you… will be inside me."

She took a second to close her red lips together and then she stepped back from him. "This is why I can't dance… on sticky, sweaty… hot, dancy floors." And these words were said with an inner sorrow, remorse clear on her face and voice as she walked over to the brick wall of the alley and leaned back against it, her right leg coming up to press against the wall, knee now jutted out in front of her.

Well this was unexpected.

The words, the scent, the voice, the tone. They all combine to tell him to not move. To comply with those orders. To find out just where this rabbit hole went. So he stands his ground as she approaches, as she puts her hand so close to his face. A hand that she reveals in a low and smoky whisper can be something close to lethal.

Well. Thats new.

His eyes slid to her hand, and then back to her face. Quill is an asshole. A jerkface. Mostly a dick, but still. He can feel, he can understand. He loves a dance, a touch, the feel of companionship in the black of the stars. These things are things that he can't quite live without.

To be without them, to never be able to touch anyone? That would be a fate almost worth than death for him. Judging from her reaction that feeling isn't that far off from the way she sees it.

"Geeze," One hand reaches up to scratch the back of his head. "…that…sucks. I mean no offence meant, but that just…yeah." A pause. "Yeah. No…touching things at all?"

He doesn't seem like he's going to pull away, or shove her away. Just watches her for a moment, a pause again as he thinks. "So like…a space-suit would keep it from happening? Just no skin on skin?" A pause. "Er…sorry. Don't mean to pry or nothin…"

Rogue had alreayd lit another cigarette and was smoking on it as she leaned there against the brick wall, her free hand going up to adjust that black wool beneath ontop of her head. She glanced back over at him when he replied to her.

"Its just skin." She replied to him quietly, somber mooded. "Huamn skin, that is… Maybe your pet Raccoon would like t'go out on a date with me though." She smirked, having no idea that Quill meant an actual bipedal raccoon that talked.

She took a deep drag off of the smoke and then exhaled it in a spout of gyser-like white smoke out into the alley. She was trying to quit… everyone at the school gave her shit for smoking, especially Kurt and Storm… Storm legit made her feel bad about it too, not because of what she said, but just how Storm's… eyes, worked, whenever Ororo saw the southern gal indulging.

Rogue's head shook side to side and she then flashed him a big smile, trying to toss away that sorrow that'd been with her for about 9 years now. "Whateves… right?' She said, stepping off of the wall with that long booted leg that had been bent-up. "Thats what rubbe'ah suits were invented for, right?" She grinned at him and walked over to that blue-arm that was sticking out of the dumpster… Rogue sat her cigarette between his fingers. "Hold this for me." She told the knocked-out Kree.

A second later and she lifted up her cell phone out of her coat and then pulled a business card out from behind it, it was a dark green card with shiney gold lettering. 'Xavier's School' emobsed on it, all shiney and pretty. "This is where I am, if ya eve'ah do wanna date a girl ya can't eve'ah dirty dance with." She flashed a smile and then took her cigarette back from the blue hand.

"Don't worry though, sugah…" rogue said, stepping past him then and looking back over her shoulder. "I won't hold my breath for the ring."

"Wait up a sec," Comes the possibly unexpected voice from one Peter Quill. He did take her card, he did look at it. However he reaches up to touch her shoulder to stop her as she turns. There is a touch of mischief in his eyes as he does so, slowly and carefully reaching out to take her cigarette away. He says nothing about it though, instead turning to do just what she did.

"Hold this," And the blue hand gets a work out once more.

Then he reaches up to pluck something just from behind his ear. A tiny little metal piece. Carefully, moving cautiously he moves towards her. His hand reaching up behind her ear to place it against her skin. Very careful to only touch with the gloved ends of his fingers.

"Don't freak out."

Then he presses the piece.

His armor unfolds across her face, lenses and readouts there in alien languages. A tingle of electricity trickles across her skin as the vacuum sealed energy armor flashes into place.

There is a smirk before he reaches out to touch her exposed hand. A tingle of electricity, but the armor translates most of the sensation fairly well.

"I wouldn't want to make ya hold your breath, and the armor isn't much of a fashion accessory. But I got an engineer I know that might help with that. Besides…" A wicked grin. "…dancing, dirty or otherwise, is important to me. So I'm inventive with it comes to that. I can figure something out. Trust me, I'm Star-lord."

A wink before he reaches up to deactivate the armor and pluck it back up.

Her card still held between two of her fingers before he reaches out with the other hand and plucks her cig back up, handing it back to her. "So I'll see you around, Rogue."

Rogue didn't panic when the armor piece was put on her, she did tense up and wasn't entirely sure what the Red Coat was doing to her, but she accepted it and stood there with the armored mask over her. She looked at him with it on, though whatever expression she was making beneath it would be hidden from him.

The southern belle didn't say a word until the mask was removed and she then had a look of being mildly disturbed, impressed and confused all at the same time. After a second she just dipped her small chin in a single nod. "Neat toy." She said in that smokey voice of hers. Accepting her cigarette back she tossed her ALF-board back on the ground and then hopped onto it (when you can fly, you never have to worry about losing your balance).

Before skating off though toward the main street, Rogue looked back at him… reached up to adjust her wool hat ontop of her head, taking the cig from her lips.

"See ya around, Nerd." She flashed a big mischievous grin at him. "If you're lucky anyhow." And with that, Rogue started to move away on the skateboard without even having to put one of her heeled-boots down onto the concrete to propel her (also the power of controled flight!)

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