|
|
Post by Admin on Jun 6, 2006 13:19:47 GMT -5
"Not to mean any offense," Marie explained, "but if that's all you've eaten for the past sixteen hours, and the heat is getting to you, we don't want you carrying any of our precious groceries. Can't let you go fainting off in the lowcountry heat and dropping the milk." She smiled, to show she meant no harm by stating the obvious.
"We're strong girls, we can manage," Lee added helpfully. "But you can carry the cheetos if you like." If not for the fact that she had an armful of groceries, she probably would have been bouncing around in excitment that this hot, and super-nice, man was going to follow them home. She'd offer her bed if he needed to rest - you know, just to be nice and neighborly. Honestly. Despite her raging hormones, Lee was only a flirt, and cut it off at anything past that.
|
|
|
|
Post by airlock on Jun 6, 2006 14:18:54 GMT -5
"We're strong girls, we can manage. But you can carry the cheetos if you like."
Lars laughed warmly and took the Cheetos, absently eating several more of them. "I promise you now, I'm not the kind of guy who generally faints through lack of food, but I appreciate your concern."
They walked in a companionable silence, Lars occasionally pausing to wince slightly as his headache continued to throb. He swallowed two aspirin en route, washed down with a bottle of fresh orange juice that he'd bought, and he ate more Cheetos.
He never once took his sunglasses off.
When they slowed, finally he reached up and put his sunglasses on top of his head. If Lee thought he couldn't get any better, she was wrong. Lars was in possession of the bluest eyes she had ever seen. Dark, navy blue eyes, which admittedly were presently a little blood shot, but they set his blond good looks off to such perfection.
"You're sure about this?" he asked the girls in a soft voice. "I mean, you just met me. I don't have a written promise that I'm not a wild axe murderer, but you do have my word - and if you'd rather we sat outside or on the porch - then I understand."
His cellphone rang and he grumbled good-naturedly as he took the call, stepping away from the girls slightly to talk to whoever it was on the end.
|
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Jun 6, 2006 15:14:16 GMT -5
Marie and Lee looked at each other as he took his call before Lee broke out laughing. Even restored they knew enough self-defense to disarm an axe murderer. "Do you think an axe murderer would warn us first?" Lee giggled as she asked the other.
"Only a wild one," Marie winked back.
In fact, they had both taken notice of his deep blue eyes and the way it set off his face, although took notice Lee admittedly more obviously.
When he returned from his phone call Marie smiled, "to answer your previous question, yes, we are sure. Your not the first stranger to end up on my doorstep like this. I'd be more afraid of Echo than you."
"I'm particularily scary," Lee agreed with an exaggerated nod before unlocking the door for everyone. "Welcome to Rogue's Place," she said with a bright smile.
|
|
|
|
Post by airlock on Jun 6, 2006 15:41:26 GMT -5
"Welcome to Rogue's Place.
"Rogue?"
One eyebrow snaked archly upwards, remained there for the briefest of moments before the grin returned. "And where did a name like that come from?"
You'd be hard pressed to find anybody who was as all-round *nice* as Lars Anderssen. He'd been semi-bullied at school simply because he didn't have an ounce of nastiness in him to draw on for a defence mechanism.
He stepped through into the thankful coolness of the interior, out of the heat. There was a thin trickle of sweat running down his neck and he felt faintly uncomfortable. He had been raised in Sweden and they'd moved to Boston when he was young. Heat and Lars weren't necessarily a match made in heaven.
|
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Jun 6, 2006 18:23:35 GMT -5
"From a long time ago and I wish Lee wouldn't call it that," Marie said as she pushed past the blonde who was still grinning at the open doorway and moved her bags into the kitchen. She dumped everything on the floor by the fridge and asked a couple of house-mates to empty them for her. Two ice cold glasses of water later, and she nodded Lar's towards the dining room - the only room that was usually not taken over by large numbers of ex-mutants.
"The house was mine, that I grew up in. It seems it was willed to me long ago and they didn't bother to change it after I ran away - so when I finally returned, here it was, in disuse and dusty but it cleaned up nice." The first thing she had done when she'd returned home to find the house empty and her parents lately dead was to take down the posterboard above her old bed that had the pins and photos of the places she had wanted to visit. She'd been to many of them now, and they weren't all that spectacular. "The kids all call it The Rogue's Place, after my mutant name."
She sat down across from him and took a sip of water, relishing the cool flow of it down her dry throat. "So what about you? What's your story?"
|
|
|
|
Post by airlock on Jun 7, 2006 3:48:01 GMT -5
"So what about you? What's your story?"
"My story?" Lars ran a hand through his hair, which fell in neat waves back into place again and stared into the middle distance for a while. "The crazy thing is, I don't really have a story as such. I figured out I had this weird ability to do stuff with air." He regaled her for a few moments with the tales of alternately suffocating himself and getting as high as a kite. He told the story humourously, but she could see that at the time of realisation he was a mutant, it wasn't funny at all.
"When the Cure was announced, man, I was one of the first in line. See, I have this blood condition that I sort of hoped might be tied into the mutant gene. Turns out it's not the case." He explained his haemophilia to her and the overwhelming sense of disappointment - and the moment of stupidity - when he'd tentatively made the tiniest of tiny cuts on his own arm after he'd had the injection to see if he was fully cured.
"So now I'm just Lars," he said. "And I sit and watch specials on the X-Men and think to myself 'hey, that could have been me', and I guess I'll just have to go on with my life never knowing quite what I could have accomplished."
|
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Jun 7, 2006 9:05:08 GMT -5
"And I sit and watch specials on the X-Men and think to myself 'hey, that could have been me', and I guess I'll just have to go on with my life never knowing quite what I could have accomplished."
Marie knew that feeling very well, having for some short time been one of the X-men. "Well," she finally spoke, softly but with conviction, "you can't be an X-man if you doubt or fear your powers, and it's really not all that its made up to be. I can assure you that there is more drama in that house than is strictly necessary." She gave him a small smile to reassure them both that being an X-man was not necessarily the pinicle of evolution.
And as mutants were always wont to do, and restored mutants even more so, Marie expounded a little on her own history as well, explaining a little more about her earlier comments of running away and her mutant name. That she had been saved by the X-men, and then made one of them for a short time. And her descision, hard as it was living in a mansion full of mutants who were happy with the way they were, to be cured.
"It is too bad you never did take Xavier's invitation to visit the Mansion - it really was a life saver to many of us. We had a lot of fun in the downtimes between saving the world." She smiled a little more openly this time - indeed, Capture the Flag (Danger Room Style) had been one of the most fun things she had ever done, despite her lack of "fun" powers.
"So, how long do you plan on being in Mississippi for?"
|
|
|
|
Post by airlock on Jun 7, 2006 11:43:51 GMT -5
When she told her stories of being with the X-Men, of living in Xavier's mansion, Lars' eyes looked, for a moment, like they would pop out of his head.
"So, how long do you plan on being in Mississippi for?"
"As long as the project takes. Probably about six, maybe seven weeks before I have to go back to Boston. Six, maybe seven weeks of living in a roach infested motel with only a barely functioning television and my laptop to keep me company." He grinned at her and swept his hair back off his face again.
"I don't know to this day why I didn't come to the mansion," he said, doubtfully. "Guess I was scared of what I was. But - and here's the weird thing, yeah? When I realised that the Cure did nothing for my haemophilia, I was annoyed at myself for ridding myself of my abilities. D'you ever regret what you did? I mean, the Cure, that is."
|
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Jun 8, 2006 12:35:27 GMT -5
Marie smiled in understanding at him, "only late at night, when I've got nothing better to do than think too hard on the past." She paused for a moment to consider the question more fully, "but while my power wasn't obvious to someone walking down the street, it was very dangerous and uncontrolable. It's very hard to live with hope knowing you could never touch another person, for your entire life."
"No I do not regret being Cured."
She finished off her glass of water and smiled. "You are welcome here whenever you like. We don't have much, but our tv gets great reception."
|
|
|
|
Post by airlock on Jun 8, 2006 12:51:49 GMT -5
"You are welcome here whenever you like. We don't have much, but our tv gets great reception."
Lars' eyes brightened optimistically. "You don't want to be telling me that. I get really bad-tempered when I watch the hockey, I can warn you now." He laughed warmly and drank the remains of his coffee.
"So tell me, Marie. How do you do for money? I mean, you're all pretty young - no offence intended - are you guys doing OK here? Is there anything you need? At all, I mean." He was so earnest, so honest.
Lars Anderssen was the sort of man that only someone without any personality whatsoever could dislike. His affable nature, open and honest approach and all round pleasant demeanour made him a hit wherever he went. He was one of those rarities in life: a nice guy with no hidden agenda. He'd seen the average age of the gaggle of kids at the store and it bothered him on a basic level that they were fending for themselves like this. OK, he wasn't exactly loaded, but he wasn't short for a dollar or two.
And he'd never forgive himself if he walked away now.
Ever.
|
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Jun 8, 2006 17:44:54 GMT -5
Playing with her glass in hand, Marie still couldn't help but be truthful with him. "We get by," she said with a shrug. We don't have to pay for the house or anything, so its all just utilities, taxes, and groceries. And we get a tax break too, just for having it set up as a home for "troubled kids", although I suppose Lee and I count as troubled kids just as much as the rest of them."
Marie smiled up at him; it was a genuine smile although unspoken worries and stress showed in her eyes. "The kids all take odd jobs when they can, but there isn't a huge job market nearby for a bunch of young, has-been mutants. Lee had a regular job in town before the car broke down. And other than that we're living off what's left of my inheritance, which wasn't great to begin with."
But god did that sound pathetic, and she didn't want him to think she was neglecting the health and well-being of the kids that lived with her. "We did start a garden recently, to cut down on the grocery bills, so now all we need is a cow to milk every morning and we'll be all set." It was meant as a joke and she smiled again at him.
All in all, sometimes she did regret being cured and leaving the mansion.
|
|
|
|
Post by airlock on Jun 12, 2006 6:31:37 GMT -5
Maybe something in her tone reached through Lars, but whatever the reason, he suddenly found himself feeling her own regret. Impulsively, he reached across the table and gently took her hand.
"I know you don't know me from Adam," he said, in a soft voice, "and you might think this is all so much hokum, but I'm a great believer in the fact that things happen for a reason. I want to help you guys in whatever way I can. I'm older, I'm earning good money, and I'm going to be here for a couple of months. Maybe in that time you'll let me help you out - any odd jobs around the house that need doing - I'm a builder by design, after all."
He let go of her hand and ran his fingers through his blond hair.
"I never really fully understood just what I could have achieved with the weird powers that I had. Maybe nothing. For every X-Man on the TV, or every member of the - what was it called, the Brotherhood? For every one of those with the ability to use their powers to their advantage, there's gonna be another hundred like me who don't know their powers, don't understand their powers...ah, I need to get over it and move on."
He sat back in his chair.
"I've given myself the day off," he said, firmly. "What d'you want doing first?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Jun 12, 2006 22:00:14 GMT -5
It was still habit to pull her hand away from the touch of others, and Marie jumped slightly as he touched her. She hid the movement in a blush and listened intently to him, while half her mind rested on the touch of his still-warm skin against her own. It caused her to think of Bobby suddenly, of those few months after she had been cured and they could express their feelings for each other physically. She had to try very hard to get her mind back on what Lar's was saying.
"I never understood my powers either, and the only time I ever used them I left other people, usually people I cared for, hurt. I don't necessarily think its such a great thing to be an X-man; its a very lonely thing."
They were both silent for a moment before he seemed to come to a decision. In answer, she smiled and squeezed his hand before pulling her own away. "I don't suppose you know much about cars?"
|
|
|
|
Post by airlock on Jun 16, 2006 6:32:07 GMT -5
"I don't suppose you know much about cars?"
"As it happens, I'm not a half-bad car mechanic. Well, more of a tinkerer really. If you can find me a pair of overalls and point me in the general direction of the problem, I'll certainly have a crack at whatever's wrong."
Her words about being an X-Man being a lonely thing had left him with a lot of food for thought. He was, by nature, an outgong, gregarious sort of a man, but despite appearances valued his own company just as much. Her words about hurting people she cared for rang a little true with him as well. Despite the fact that Lars never wanted for female company, he had never quite had the capacity to form a lasting relationship.
He shook himself free of dark thoughts and for the briefest of moments wished he could dose himself just a tad more oxygen - that had always been good for brightening up. "Overalls," he said cheerfully. "Overalls and car. Let's do it."
|
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Jun 19, 2006 11:51:13 GMT -5
"Alright then, lets see if we can't find you some overalls." Marie smiled graciously as she stood up, grabbing both of their glasses and taking them into the kitchen, where she nodded to the man before shooting Lee a look that said "who's this?" Lee just smiled confidently and Marie knew she'd find out sooner or later - the other could take over for now. Besides, if she took over talking to the other man, Lee would harass Lars all afternoon and he'd never get anything done on that car.
Finding a pair of her dad's old coveralls in a box in the garage, she shook them out quickly to make sure there were no brown recluses waiting to kill their saviour, and handed them over before leading him out to the junk of a Geo Prism that had also been her father's years ago.
"I have no idea what's wrong with it, but it wont start now and it kept stalling out at red lights before."
|
|
|
|
Post by airlock on Jun 19, 2006 12:43:39 GMT -5
"I have no idea what's wrong with it, but it wont start now and it kept stalling out at red lights before."
Lars was a taller, more slender man than Marie's father had been and the overalls were comically baggy on him, but he didn't seem to be overly bothered by the fact. As it happened, somehow, even dressed in a pair of wrinkled old coveralls the man radiated attractiveness.
He caught his blond hair back in a small ponytail to keep it out of his eyes and took the keys that Marie offered him. Within a few short minutes he was already pulling bits of the engine apart. "I'll clean up the spark plugs and maybe give it an oil change...charge the battery a bit. All pretty basic stuff, but it might do the trick."
He'd found a set of spanners and in due course had removed the battery. She noticed that he was particularly careful with what he was doing, in an almost over-the-top way. He noted her watching him and grinned ruefully. "Have to be careful not to cut myself," he said. "Last thing you need is me bleeding to death all over your garage."
|
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Jun 19, 2006 18:20:39 GMT -5
"Oh Lord, I never even thought of that," Marie's eyes widdened as he mentioned the hemophilia. He certainly would bleed to death too - the closest hospital was a twenty minute drive at least, and them without a working car.
"Ma..maybe that's not a good idea," she started, not wanting to offend him but certainly not wanting to kill him either. She hovered nearby anxiously, staying out of the way but trying to watch for any movement that might indicate a cut. She thought briefly to herself that it was a good thing Lars never had been one of the X-men, or he would have probably died long ago.
|
|
|
|
Post by airlock on Jun 19, 2006 18:33:30 GMT -5
He laughed, warmly as he hooked the battery up to the mains charger. "It's all good," he reassured her. "Little nicks and cuts are manageable. If I put my fist through your front door, that'd just be asking for trouble. Don't you worry yourself about it."
It was true enough: yes, he had a condition that was potentially fatal, but he was also more than capable of putting himself well out of the way of danger whenever necessary. He'd only ever had one hospital emergency and that had been when he was a much younger man. Medication and age had helped his condition.
He busied himself taking out the spark plugs and spraying them with an aerosol can of oil he found in the garage. By the time he'd done that and tightened a few nuts and bolts, the battery was at full charge.
"Here goes nothing," he said, in his permanently cheerful tone. He leaned in through the window of the driver's side and turned the key in the ignition.
The engine fired into life straight away and ticked over happily, sounding far better than it had done for days.
"Sweet as a nut," he said, chirpily, wiping his hands on a rag and still succeeding in smearing oil across his previously pristine face. "And I have to say, this is a GREAT way to deal with a hangover."
|
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Jun 19, 2006 18:54:36 GMT -5
Marie was very close to melting at Lars' personal charm before he bent over the car window to turn the key. Even in her father's overalls he had a nice ass, and she wasn't afraid to admire it while his back was turned (and thank god his back was turned, for she was fairly wide-eyed). Giving her head a quick shake before he turned around she got her mind on other things - like the roar of the engine as it came to life in his hands.
"You are a life saver," she exclaimed in joy. Now if one of them could only get a job, they would have a ride there. "This calls for a celebratory glass of milk!" she smiled brightly, well aware that milk was not very celebratory, but that it was the only thing they had.
|
|
|
|
Post by airlock on Jun 19, 2006 19:28:23 GMT -5
"You are a life saver!"
"I think that's pushing it a little bit too far," he laughed, caught up in her moment of sheer exuberance. "But it does my heart good to see you happy." He rubbed his oily hands some more on the rag. When she suggested a celebratory glass of milk, his laughter grew louder.
"If they could see me now," he said, wiping tears of laughter out of his eyes. "Lars Anderssen, hard core drinking man, looking forward to a chilled glass of the finest half-and-half after fixing up a car..."
His smile, his laughter, the whole cut of his personality was so warm and genuine that you couldn't help but be caught up in it.
"Let me go wash up a little first," he said, gesturing at his face which had an oil streak rather fetchingly positioned down the side of his nose. "If you could point me to the bathroom...?"
|
|
