1535/WHEEL of FACTIONS

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WHEEL of FACTIONS
Date of Scene: 06 May 2020
Location: Brotherhood of Mutants' new facility.
Synopsis: Mystique invites Rogue to help with a project.
Cast of Characters: Raven Darkholme, Rogue




Raven Darkholme has posed:
    The trees fly past the open passenger window, sliced in half by the pale fingers of the passenger before flying backwards and being devoured by the back half of the car and lost into the past of the drive. The fingers curl against the air and lift up, pulling the wrist and elbow off the door sill and then back down in an arching motion of the passing atmosphere. Trees soon replaced by empty fields and the occasional strip center or gas station hinting at the growing cluster of civilization that the two women are approaching rapidly.

    The screen held in place before Rogue with instructions on how to get her to their destination chimes in with her delightfully robotic Australlian accent.

    "Left in 300 feet."

    The passenger turns her head towards the screen, her cheeks flushing slightly red as she focuses her pale blue eyes on the destination she is familiar with and glows in anticipation for the driver's opinion.

    A large tan box, a warehouse that has seen better days but isn't in poor repair either. "Just pull in here." She says, pulling out a pair of keys from her impossibly tight shorts and dangles them before Rogue, waiting for the girl to put the car in park. The smile on 'Regina's' face is that cat that ate the canary and has eyes on the next meal.

Rogue has posed:
The radio is on, but it's been fairly low the whole trip volume-wise. Rogue is behind the wheel, though she doesn't have a driver's license. She's humming to the tune with her sunglasses on and her hair blowing free and loose around her face. She reaches down to the cup holder to pick up her cup of tea that they'd gotten from a Starbucks in Salem Center before heading out to the destination.

A glance is given to the GPS and another to the keys being dangled to her before Rogue looks forward again.

"So why the hell are comin' out here again?" She asks this Regina girl as she raises her cup up for a sip and then settles it back down into it's cup holder. The left turn is taken as per directed! She's a good driver, but then again she took all her driving experience from Carol (and other's) as well.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
    Carol's memories and then some would be quick to fill in Rogue's questions. "It's my hangar Rogue." The girl says as she opens the door and brushes her hair back behind her ears and holds the length of her strands while shutting the door. A lesson you only need to learn once. Regina turns and leaves the car and the southerner behind as she starts to skip towards the small looking front door. Only small because of the massive size of the rest of the building it's attached to. The only hint of perspective and even that looks off. Small, but no, Regina gets to the door and stands next to it, waiting for Rogue to approach the tan barebones building, walls made of corrugated steel and enormous I-beams and more.

    The inside seems hollow, even with the lights off, though Rogue should be able to find the light switches, huge breakers on the wall near the entrance, should she listen to Carol's instincts.

    

Rogue has posed:
Rogue exits the vehicle a step or two behind the energetic girl. She holds her tea cup in her hand and shuts her car door a step or two away, letting the wind catch her two=toned locks and flow them out behind her. "It's your hangar. I mean, duh, we all have hangars." Rogue softly quips before sipping from her drink again. She's dressed in jean-shorts and a red tshirt with a faded white image of Tiger Woods swinging a golf club that she found in a box in the Xavier's School basement laundry room. She has black elbow-length gloves on since she doesn't worry about tan-lines due to the sun not really being able to tan her skin anyway, it's locked at the light tan she'd had back in the summer she'd absorbed Carol.

On flip-flops, Rogue walks to the hangar and does move on inside. She lets her eyes roam around as her hand moves to raise her sunglasses up to her forehead. With a few flippity floppity steps she reaches the power switches and flips them all on one by one.

"So you gonna get inside an airplane and take your stolen jewels to Mexico?" She asks Regina.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
    Rogue turns to the lights, and in the darkness, the wirring sounds of lights warming up and then THUNKING on as they get enough juice, and their light beams down on the two girls.

    Rogue stands there now with the blue hued mutant with her hands held out at her sides in the universal 'I'm sorry' motion and she is trying to smile, as sweetly as she can, those yellow eyes lying in their ferocity and predatory appearance.

    The lights slowly charge up and boom turn on, one at a time in a slow wave across the entire hangar, starting with Rogue and Mystique, going deeper and deeper into the massive room until a shape is starting to appear in the darkness on the other side. "Look, Rogue." Mystique says before any argument could be leveled at her by Rogue,

    "See it, out there," She points into the darkness when another light flashes on and the fish like blob of grey starts to come into more and more detail and less relief. "It's yours..." Sort of, goes unspoken, but this is a mother, reaching out with a gesture to her daughter.

Rogue has posed:
When Rogue looks back and sees that Mystique is there and that Regina is gone, she huffs out a heavy exhale. "I gotta stop givin' hitch hikers rides." She mutters then. A shake of her head and Rogue's free hand moves up to pull her hair out of her face, just a few loose white strands.

She centers her gaze on the blue skinned woman and then watches her as she motions over to...

Rogue just stairs, her aviators up on her forehead and a look of pure confusion as she sees the jet fighter. "W ... What?" Rogue says flatly, now looking back to the blue skinned woman that has been influencing her life off and on since the night her parents vanished, and mostly since her mutation awoke inside of her in her early teens.

"What do you want me t'do with that thing?" She asks of the combat fighter sitting off in the distance. She knows all about it, but still.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
    "Rogue, neither of us are fools, I want you to use it. I can't, Fred certainly can't. I wouldn't trust Toad or anyone else..." Mystique says as the lights finish turning on and the hum fills the hangar of the energy they give off. She wants to smile towards Rogue, but the emotion and fear of losing her daughter keeps the motion at just a faint twitch. "We're not going to harm anyone, not again, but I think mutants need some way to defending themselves from any and all threats. Genosha didn't have an army. Not a real one." Mystique frowns and looks down to the floor, her white heeled shoe scuffing at the smooth concrete, "And I need you Rogue, I don't want to hurt you or anyone, but I need to protect us."

Rogue has posed:
A look to the jet down further inside the hangar.

A look to Mystique.

Back to the jet.

Back to Mystique.

She listens to everything the woman says there before she narrows her eyes and tilts her head. Her free, gloved, hand comes up and points down the distance to said jet.

"Ya realize that I'm tougher than the armor platin' on that thing, and I can fly faster than it too? I mean, I don't have bomb droppin' powers. Unless ya count my fists?" She balls up her non-drink-holding hand and holds it on display. But she then unfists it and points at Mystique with the same hand.

"You did this t'me. You had me hold on t'a livin' weapon, and now that livin' weapon is me." She glances down to the Jet. She likes it, she loves those things now. But she shakes her head. "Nothin' that thing can do really I can't do better now."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
    "Glad you realize that." Mystique says, taking a few steps towards Rogue and the jet and she takes the young girl's hand. "But you're not everywhere at once Rogue. As much as all your boyfriends would kill for that world, that's just not how it is." Mystique mothers her adopted daughter.

    "Come, wether you fly it or not, I'm going to need your help repairing it and getting it in working order and then teaching me, or someone else how to fly." Mystique smiles to Rogue, trying to drag her closer still. "I'll let you name it and of course use whatever callsign you want." She says as she gets a touch shorter and her skin shifts into a tan hue, and suddenly, young Tom Cruise is tugging on Rogue's hand, the maverick helmet hanging from his other hand and the olive drab flight suit makes him look bulkier than ever. "C'mon Rogue, I apologized and even went to jail for that, I'm sorry. I didn't want anyone to get hurt like that."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue releases a tired sigh when she lets the woman take her gloved hand and lead her on toward the Jet. She doesn't speak until after the Tom Cruise transition takes place and now she's staring at Tom. "I don't think he's that tall." Rogue mutters, but otherwise leaves it be. She looks over to the Jet and then back to the woman. "I'll take a look at the thing and see if I can see whats wrong with it, but I dunno what I should do here. Charles Xavier has entrusted me t'be a better person, and helping you repair a machine that's capable'a droppin' a nuke... might not really be something that the Professah would want me t'agree t'help you with, ya know?"

She releases Maverick's hand and starts to walk toward the Jet, just doing a slow pan around it's port-side.

"I don't wanna be responsible for your droppin' payloads on some city just cause they don't like Mutants." She adds in a bit of a snippy voice, defiantly against what her 'adopted mother' may want to do with this thing.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
    Hands go up, and down as the height is reduced further in the Faux Cruise. "I hear you, and so that's why it's yours. You don't have to teach anyone how to use it, find, but please, play ball with me here." Tom says, with his crooked grin and broken nose smile towards Anna Marie. "I mean, you're the only family I have left since Destiny... and I'm obviously trying to better myself at the school too. I'm trying to help /US/ here and you're still busting my balls."

    Tom shrugs his shoulders and the flight suit rustles noisily from the motion, "And I completely deserve it, but I'm here, trying to make it up to you as best as I know how..."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue walks over to the F-16's nose cone and she reaches up to touch the black painted tip of it. She runs her hand along it's smooth surface before she stops and turns around to Mystique again. "Apologizin' to someone that you call your 'daughter' doesn't require grand gestures and expensive gifts, ya know? It's about actions, good actions, that aren't about... killin' Carol Danvers, or 'destroy all humans'." She glares back at Tom, even if he is ridiculously attractive in his 20s. Short or not.

Looking away again, Rogue walks on back toward the side of the jet under the cockpit. "Somethin' about this still weirds me out. But if you can get your hands on a jet like this, you can get your hands on anyone t'fix it or fly it too. So I might as well be the one."

Rogue then looks up and around, her green eyes visibly aiming up toward the hangar's roof and around it's perimeter. "This is all really weird though." She has to reiterate.