834/Racin' Stripes

Racin' Stripes
Date of Scene:	29 March 2020
Location:	Salem Center
Synopsis:	Rogue takes a ride in Remy's 'legally appropriated' Porsche.
Cast of Characters:	Remy LeBeau, Rogue

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Remy LeBeau has posed:
Some days, Remy went out to do whatever it is he does. He didn't go into much detail beyond the basics of a 'floating card game' or 'checking in on someone I used to work with' - the fact that he occasionally came back with expensive gifts and stolen wallets was never really addressed.

Tonight, he's sent word ahead for Rogue to meet him on one of the less busy streets in the more business-oriented part of town that essentially shuts down at night. He's not there yet, and the street itself is largely deserted save for the occasional passing car.

Rogue has posed:
For Rogue, she's been busy with school and the X-Men training that has been sharpening her skills as a 'super hero' (though she hates those two words used together, thinks they're cheesy and set misguided expectations), but she's eager to meet the mysterious Remy when he does pop up, show up, or appear where she is. She's often thinking about him when he's gone, wondering what he's up to or if he's okay or about to vanish entirely.

But when he sends her this message, she just so happens to already be in Salem Center. She'd been at the Burger Joint checking on Jubilee but had left there and when her phone buzzed with the message she'd had her nose pressed up against the glass of the Pet Store and was staring at the puppies that were crawling over one another to try to get to her outside. She was just all smiles, with her hair held down against the sides of her face from a wool knit cap on her head, her skateboard in her left hand, a black and grey baseball tshirt on and a hoodied tied around her waist with blue jeans and boots on beneath that.

Once the message was read though, Rogue had to leave the puppies be and she started off to meet Remy where she'd said, pushing a few times with a foot to make her skateboard roll, then using her flight power to make it go a liiiittle faster to cheat.

Once she arrived she'd found a bus stop bench to sit on and wait for him. A car of rowdy teenagers drove past and honked at her, but she just smirked and watched them roll on by.

Remy LeBeau has posed:
"Goin' my way?" Remy calls to Rogue over the purr of an engine, and should she turn she'll see where he has been. He sits in the driver's seat of a red Porsche 911 with the top down, hand leaning over the side with a lit cigarette clutched between two fingers. The license plate itself reads 'SELLHIGH', and there looks to be a duffel bag with the logo for the New York Athletic Club stencilled on the side in the passenger side.

"Jus' toss dat," he tells her, pointing at the duffel bag and flicking a hand at it disdainfully, "Get in. We goin' for a ride, mon catin."

As though to emphasize his point, he revs the engine a few time - the roar of it echoing up and down the dark, quiet street.

Rogue has posed:
Rogue's eyes are on her phone with the Porsche pulls up to the bus stop. She looks up at the sound of his voice and her eyes narrow for a second and then widen at the sight of the car and the driver. "Holy shit." She says, unable to stop herself. She quickly stands up and steps over to the car only to hesitate and take a closer look at it. Her eyes go from it's front to it's tale and then back again before finally settling on the driver in the main seat.

"Whe---" She stops herself. She knows he's stealing. She's not daft. Her gaze goes to the passenger seat with the bag and she looks down at it and then up at him. She pops the door open and sets her board down inside the foot of the car before she picks up the duffle with her gloved left hand and raises it up to look at it. She assumes he's already gone through it, must be nothing good in it so she sets it aside and gets in to the car, then pulls the door shut.

She looks smaller in the car than he does, her body considerably tinier than Remy's own. She looks over at him and pulls some loose white hair out of her face and she smiles at him. "You don't have the cops afte'ah ya, do ya?" She asks him with a leveled gaze. She knows the Professor wouldn't approve of this... but it /is/ exciting.

Remy LeBeau has posed:
"Nah," Remy says with a shake of his head, tucking the cigarette between his lips and talking around it, "Mess'r 'Sell High' not quite as good at cards as he t'ink. Or at least, he not payin' as much attention as he should."

He turns in the driver's seat to look Rogue over, tilting his head forward and letting his sunglasses slide down his nose. Red-black eyes sweep her up and down before he grins broadly, flashing white teeth in the glow of the dashboard computer display. It's one of the fancy, new models by the look of it.

"Hang on to yer cute l'il hat, cher," he tells her, before he floors the gas and peels out of the bus stop at breakneck pace. The Porsche roars down the road at incredible speed, and he throws back his head to laugh before taking the half-finished cigarette from between his lips and tossing it upwards. The wind catches it, carrying it away in an orange trail of embers into the dark night behind them.

Rogue has posed:
When he gives her that warning of her hat and then hits the gas, she feels her head go back and the wind instantly move the beanie cap up a little so her hand shoots up to pull it off of her head and that just sends her hair going wild behind her her head. She's felt speed before, she's a lot faster than the car is even if out in the air, but it's a different feeling when it's an automobile on pavement hitting speeds like that, it has a gut-sinking feeling.

Rogue's eyes go a bit wide and then she looks over at him and smiles big and bright with white locks of hair flowing across her face before she looks forward again and they whip back behind her again.

"Where are we going?!" She says over the sound of the cool Springtime evening air rushing over them from above the windshield. "And can I keep this car?!" She adds.

Remy LeBeau has posed:
"If you want," Remy says with a shrug, patting the steering wheel with the flat palms of his hands, "I feel like you gotta get it repainted in green doe, cher."

The car reaches a corner and Remy expertly shifts gears, setting it into a tire-screeching skid as it rounds and jets off down the next street. An oncoming SUV driver leans on his horn angrily as they approach, and yells something profane out his window even if they're moving too fast to really catch what was said.

"I dunno where we goin'," he tells her, glancing over again at the Southern Belle and then tapping the digital compass in the dashboard display, "East, I guess? Where you wanna go?"

Rogue has posed:
The thought of owning a car was something Rogue had mulling around in her head a lot lately. She'd always wanted a Porsche too, they were her favorite cars other than the muscle cars like a classic Dodge Charger. She was even planning on getting a job in Salem Center somewhere, she just had to work up the nerves--and talk to the Professor about how she can even get one without an ID or anything.

But to just have Remy -give- her one? She grins after he says they're just driving and she looks over at him again. "What if the cops pull me over cause they see hwo damn hot I am and they're like 'We gotta stop that girl and give her a ticket'n get her phone number!'. Then they realize this ain't my car and it belongs t'some rich bitch who reported it stolen!?" She looks forward again, still grinning, but gives Remy a side glance.

"They'll haul me off t'jail, Remy LeBeau and I'm a good girl now, don't ya know? I'm not--" Mystique. Mystique who'd been in her room the other day, telling her about her 'destiny' and all that crap. "I'm not a criminal!

Remy LeBeau has posed:
"Hey," Remy says with mock affrontery, lifting a hand from the wheel to splay it against his chest, "I ain't a criminal neither, cher. I'm like a Robin Hood, y'know? Takin' from de assholes an' given to la plus belle fille du monde."

He reaches over with that free hand to give her thigh a squeeze, before returning it to the wheel just in time to stop drifting into the opposite lane. He mutters something to himself in Cajun French, then turns off onto one of the unpaved sideroads in a spray of gravel.

"An' if they pull you over, you can just get out, pick up de car, and fly away with it, non?"

Rogue has posed:
Rogue looks back over to him when he grabs hold of her thigh, her jeans slim fit and her thigh firm with super enhanced muscles beneath the denim. She doesn't have a seatbelt on because she has a danger sense that would tell her if they were about to crash and she could just survive it without much trouble anyway. So she turns to face him in her seat and hooks one knee up on to the chair. She looks over at him directly now as they race about.

"They'd still have my face an be on the look out for me. And the Professah would know I'd done it and expel me or somethin'. For bein' too much of'a 'bad girl' when I swore I wasn't."

"I do like that ya take from a-holes tough, but I don't know if that'd hold up in a court'a law, Cajun." She has to sass him a bit, right? Her eyes glance forward and she looks where they're headed, out of Salem Center now it looks and off on the beautiful streets of upstate New York.

Remy LeBeau has posed:
"Well, lucky for me I don't plan on bein' in a court'a law anytime soon," Remy says airily, slowing the car to a more cruise-y pace now that they're on the backroads, "I spent my whole life avoidin' 'em so far, I t'ink I can keep it up."

He returns his hand to the wheel for a second before it is off again, searching around inside the breast pocket for his cigarettes. Once he has the packet, he tosses them into Rogue's lap along with a small box of matches, glancing at her for a moment while he drives.

"Light one a' dose up for me, cher?" Then, he presses on, "I mean, I'm jus' sayin' you can have it if you want. Maybe I teach you how t' drive, non? Den you got a license fair an' square."

Rogue has posed:
When the cigarettes and matches land in her lap, Rogue reaches down to gather them up and prepare one for him. Shes places it between her own lips and leans forward out of the wind a bit more to light it. Once lit, Rogue takes a drag on it before she sweeps her hair out of her face and then scoots toward him a little closer to reach over and place the cigarette between HIS lips, for him.

She grins at him then. "I'm a good driver." She tells him. "I took those skills from Carol, and others, too. I mean, I probably am at least a passable driver. I've driven a few cars around here and there, but never had a license'a my own." She looks at the dash board on the car and then back over at him.

"You think we really can keep this?" She asks, smiling at him. "Now I wanna paint it green for real... though the red is kinda hot, ain't it?"

Remy LeBeau has posed:
"The green is kinda hot," Remy says, speaking around the cigarette and peering over the top of his sunglasses at her, "Très chaud."

He lets a plume of smoke flow out from the corner of his mouth, stretching tendrils upwards until it hits the slipstream and dissipates rapidly. They're still moving fast, even if it's not the same breakneck pace as before.

"I mean, I won it. Not so much fair an' square, but he def'nitely know I got it an' I doubt he gonna come lookin' for it. So yeah, we can keep it."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue just gives Remy a side-eye stare, it's a bit of a seductive stare from the Belle, like she's all worked up just looking at him. But she's also, just... having a good time right now and it's entirely because of him. Does she believe this car is 'won fair and squre'? Who knows, but she certainly WANTS to! She raises her right hand up and kisses her two first fingertips, then places them against Remy's cheek, gloved fingertips protecting him from her skin's wrath.

A second later and Rogue suddenly lifts up into the air, shedding her tied-off hoodie and leaving it in the seat behind her, she's flying now, and sweeps her legs behind her so she's horizontal above the car, her black and gray long sleeved tshirt whipping against her feminine form beneath it! With a smile over to Remy, and her hair sweeping around behind her, she does a roll that sends her over and above him!

Out beside the car on his left now, Rogue is flying right along with him. She kisses her fingers again, then speeds forward ahead of him and slaps her butt teasingly before going even faster out ahead of the car now! He's likely never seen her fly quite like this unless they've been in danger room sessions together!

Either way, looks like she's teasing him to chase after her!

Remy LeBeau has posed:
"Oh, I see how it is," Remy calls out as Rogue lifts up and out of the car, rising up a little in his need to crane his neck and watch her go, "You jus' rubbin' it in how you can fly now, hein?"

When she speeds out ahead he leans on the gas, trying to get closer to her. The car's engine roars, but even precision sports automotives are no real match for Rogue's abilities. He stays on her tail, leaning with one elbow on the top of the driver's side door. Admiring the view, to put it bluntly.

"Hey," he calls out again, cupping his hand around his mouth, "Wanna pull over at this motel up 'ere?"

A sign on the side of the road indicates a motor lodge a mile or two ahead of them.

Rogue has posed:
Rogue doesn't truly want to get seen flying either, she doesn't want to get the mutant report sent out and have weird anti-mutant people show up here. So when she spies the motel lights up ahead, and hears Remy calling out from behind her she just lifts up and slows down, then lets the car sweep underneath her. With her shirt riding up over her stomach as she does this, she slides back down into the bucket seat and then pulls her shirt back down to maintain her decency some.

She, with wild hair, grins over at Remy and raises her hands up to rub her biceps. "It's cold." She says, before looking over to the Motel as they draw near to it. "Oooh, ya know those places got hidden cameras in all the rooms so that the employees can spy on folks in the rooms, right?"

She's making that up, she saw that on Youtube or something.

"We gonna get a room, Mistah LeBeau? Pretend like we're hidin' away from our husband or wives with an illicit love affair?" Her sassin' voice is in full southern swing now.

Remy LeBeau has posed:
"Pretendin'?"

It's a joke, judging by the way Remy grins broadly after he says it. He steers the car over into the leftmost lane, ready to pull off into the motel that is now a little neon shape on the horizon.

"I mean, I don't care if dey're spyin' on me," Remy tells her with a shrug of his shoulders, taking another long drag of the cigarette, "I figure we could spend a night away from dat mansion'a yours and your sometimes-roommate."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue puts her right hand on the window beside her and she looks over at him as they reach the motel and just grins at him. "I like the mansion." She tells him then. "But... yeah, I wouldn't mind a little change'a pace. Keeps the soul fresh, or somethin'." She tells him before looking forward to the place as it comes in to view.

"Ah they got a swimming pool." She says it with a good deal of affection in her voice. "I'm so ready for summer, I wanna lay out on a chair in the sun in a skimpy swimsuit. I've been eyein' the pool at the school since I got there. It's so fancy... let alone that huge lake. I wanna swim in it too."

Rogue reaches over for the pack of cigarettes then to get herself one. She gets it lit in short order then and raises it up for a draw from it, placing her lips around it's end to puff on it.

Remy LeBeau has posed:
"Why can't you swim in it?" Remy asks as the car rounds into the motel parking lot, stopping it outside the main office door and climbing up over the side, "I mean, if other people see you swimmin' an get in dere with you? Dat's they own problem. Hands off de merchandise an' all dat."

He moves towards the door, pausing a moment to lean against the frame and finish off the cigarette. When it's done he tosses it on the ground, crushing it out with his heel.

"You wanna go night swimmin', cher? I promise I cover my eyes."

Rogue has posed:
When the car pulls into a parking spot and Remy gets out, Rogue floats up to her feet and she steps over and out of the car, using her flight power subtly to make herself look like she's just damn nimble, but not defying the laws of physics.

Once on the ground she stands with him, before him, grinning at him as they both finisher off their smokes. She sorts her shirt out a bit more around her trim waistline and then tries to smooth her hair back and down behind her shoulders. "Maybe I do." She says with the cigarette between her red lips bouncing up and down while she talks around it.

Then, with free hands, she plucks it from between them and flashes him a grin. "If it's warm'a enough. But I didn't bring a suit, so lets hope there's no creep'n peepers around. You can watch though. I /guess/."