Somewhere I Belong

July 31st, 2014: A peaceful night at Xavier's garden involves Anna Marie, Betsy, Doug and Remy.

Xavier's Institute, Mansion Grounds - Garden

A Japanese style garden filled with rare and exotic plant-life covers this area, there are a series of paths that wind through dense wooded areas, open points spot the grounds with benches and water fountains. At this time of day the sun is gone down and paper lanterns line walkways and lamps of stone called toro light up koi ponds. It's a peaceful lightly illuminated atmosphere and one of the Professor's most coveted locations on the Institute property.



  • Charles Xavier

Mood Music:
- Somewhere I Belong by Linkin Park

Eastern grounds of the Institute - the Gardens.

A Japanese style garden filled with rare and exotic plant-life covers this area, there are a series of paths that wind through dense wooded areas, open points spot the grounds with benches and water fountains. At this time of day the sun is gone down and paper lanterns line walkways and lamps of stone called toro light up koi ponds. It's a peaceful lightly illuminated atmosphere and one of the Professor's most coveted locations on the Institute property.
Xavier himself sits at one of these small open areas in a wheelchair with a blanket over his lap. He looks comfortable in a loose pajama outfit of light blues.
Across from Xavier sits Remy LeBeau aka Gambit, rested with his legs drawn up and on a sprawl along one of the benches. A forearm draped over his knee, a pair of stone-washed jeans and a black button up shirt are worn, no shoes, no socks, barefoot. Obviously hes enjoying the garden's soft grass.

Restless nights make Psylocke feel like crap. After being out on the prowl for one thing or another, she returns to the Manse, seeking solace in the most peaceful place she could think of. Sadly enough, the place was already 'crowded' in her opinion, two bodies she'd rather avoid due to her further decreasing mood for companionship. But why not.
Life the part, act the part. Be one of the team, they said, when at times she'd rather knock someones block off because their..
"Gentlemen." She offers, not saying much else. Instead of going near the two, she goes farther away to unzip a bit of her suit to gain mobility enough for her to flop to the ground and 'rest' on the grass. Her doing anything else would possibly look suspect.

Alone and to her devices for once, Rogue is being permitted out of the medical ward - once she stopped breaking things and calmed down in a barren room made to contain people of her… Caliber.

Denim tore, so did the flanel shirt, and the slipper foot bootie things were tosses into a low burning fireplace on her way past. Screw those hideous things, this girl'll go barefoot, thank ya very much.

Stepping out into the gardens she pauses at the top of the small flight of stairs, sweeping her gaze across the grounds, breathing in deeply and making a bee-line for the grass that she steps into and flexes her feet once within, toing the natural ground beneath.

Bare from toe to thighs, the sign of attire appears in the form of that shredded denims' strands hanging down over once-tanned flesh, and slung low upon hips. Her abdomen is left bare until the red and black flanel shirt picks up, tied off just beneath her chest and left unbuttoned down the front slightly.

"Now Ah know what prison feels like. This must be tha yard."

Visiting the mansion for the first time since Amara's little party had gone to Nova Roma, Doug Ramsey had stopped by the Professor's office, only to be notified that he was in the garden. If only to say hi, the linguist turned towards the garden.

It -was- one of the places he'd liked, simply because the garden itself had its own language, a certain feng shui about it that encouraged peace and harmony. Though judging by a few of the people that were there, it wasn't quite effective.

"Professor," Doug greets, inclining his head. "Thought I'd visit." He brings his hand to his head in a small wave. "Mr. LeBeau." A small awkward smile. "Ms. Braddock." And… "Hi," Doug offers a hand to Rogue. "Name's Doug Ramsey. I was a student here."

"Femme en colere." Gambit greets Psylocke, a quirk of his lips displaying a smile. He's already gotten acquainted with the Not-So-Asian-British-Ninja.
It's as if trouble decides to travel in threes today; first Illyana grilling him about the Darkhold, now the other two women the Cajun has wronged in some form or another arrive. An intake of breath and the lean scoundrel stretches as if about to stand up.

"Please stay, Remy." Xavier says in his usual calm and pleasant tones. "Anna, Doug, Elizabeth. It's good to see all of you, Remy and I were just talking about tea if you'd care to join us?" A wave of his hand and he motions towards the grass near them where Psylocke has already decided to seat herself.

Remy grins sidelong at Doug, though it's brief as his attention is fixed upon the auburn haired woman. Their encounters haven't been the most pleasant. "Ramsey, how goes, homme?"

Eyes soon close as Rogue nears, a little smirk playing upon her lips at the remark that was given, her chin soon lifting and eyes opening to spy the jean clad woman with a little bit of regard. "At least it's pretty." And, that was really all Psylocke had to say on the matter, favoring silence over chatter, she lowers her chin to close her eyes yet again, attempting to shake that restlessness. Doug gets a wave of the hand however, and it's back to lazing away, that was until the invitation of tea was offered, near her spot, none the less.

Crap. "Tea is good." She comments quietly, pushing herself up into a sitting position to make room for the others who'd join.

Rogue had yet to take the time to notice the presence of anyone else, be it purposeful ignorance, or basking in a moment not locked inside four walls and detained..

This is broken by Doug's greeting, coming at her from periphery with his arm extended to shake hers, causing her to pivot on bare heel and jerk the gloves free of the remnants of a back pocket she left in those jean shorts. "Don't touch me!" The gloves aren't on yet but she is sweeping upward in a swat towards Doug's greeting hand before she is trying to put them on, stretching the black leather fabric over fingers.

Psylocke's commentary get her a glimpse of green gaze with a raise of brow until Remy also speaks, her eyes pivoting in a quick snap his direction, the fallen white strands amongst auburn that had webbed across her face blown aside with a huffed exhale. "Was." The southern accent crisp on vocals, as well as harsh though Xavier's speech seems to get her to calm, for now.

Pulling back his hand in a hurry, Doug regards Rogue with a curious glance, before pulling his hand back. "Sorry," he apologizes. Certainly, he was aware enough of the woman's skittish nature about being touched after the fact -now-, when her body language was practically shouting at him.

And then, to cover up the awkward moment, Doug smiles, hands folded behind his back, suitably chastened, and nods towards Remy. "It goes. Just did a translation of a Linear A scroll. Never thought I'd see one of those. So, uh… tea sounds good, sir."

Crossing the grass, Doug motions near Betsy, asking to sit down. "May I?" he asks.

"Linea… what?" Remy just questions letting it trail off. "Careful, mon ami, she got a vicious bite." The man says jokingly towards Doug in regards to Rogue. Whom he has yet to make eye contact with, talking towards her right now seems to be his method of playing nice. Or at least not meeting the beasts gaze so it doesn't turn hostile and rip his face off. That night in the alleyway is still fresh enough in his mind.

Xavier doesn't say anything he just begins to hand out small tea cups that are attached to the sides of the metal dragon stylized container, still hot.
"Remy is under the opinion sweet tea is the best of all teas, I am attempting to show him otherwise."
A glance up and the Professor looks at each of the newcomers in turn, "I'm pleased to see you up and moving, Anna. How are you all settling in? Elizabeth I imagine your bags are all unpacked?"

The interaction with Doug and Rogue had her a little intrigued, but nothing that she would try to press and pry at. As Doug disengages, she feels a little bad for the fella, he seemed to be the only light in the room aside from Remy's cool demeanor and Xaviers professionalism and general kindness. "Please." With those words, Betsy finally puts on a smile, and it's genuine, strained, but genuine. "You've been doing well, yeah?" She asks of him, taking a turn to glance towards Rogue and Remy in turn, then focusing upon Doug yet again.

As the tea was handed out, she takes hers carefully, balancing the bottom of the cup upon her palm, waiting for it to cool enough for her to sip without burning herself. "No Professor. I plan on going on another trip. There are things in the Outback that have caught my eye. So unless some sort of emergency arrives, I'll possibly be on my way and gone for a week. Depending." Sip. Sip.

"Oh, sugah you have no idea.." There it is, honey (covered arsenic) in Rogue's tone in regards to Remy, the final glove slipped on and as Doug passes to join Betsy she is making a few steps to close the gap with the shift in posture a boxer would take before they were about to 'dance'.

Cut off though, by a tea cup in Xavier's hand it stops her in her tracks, his extended greeting hovering jjust before her bare abdomen, but not quite touching. Taking it, those sharp edges on emeralds leave Remy and go back to Doug. "No offence, you'll thank me later." She mutters and keeps her distance from them all.

In regards to the tea, if it is not the proper southern sweet, it is not worth anything other then rotten teeth on bad juice. Watching Betsy as she takes her mug and partakes, Rogue tries to emulate, an awkward motion that seems like a china doll riding on a bulls horn. Dommed for failure and breaking.

"Now that Ah'm permitted out of my room, fine." Fumble, juggle… Save! The almost shattered cup is dangling by its handle from her pinky. "Ya'll got a plastic cup? This seems pointless."

Wrinkling his nose as Rogue makes her apology, Doug glances towards the Professor, an arched eyebrow communicating in non-verbal terms, 'Touchy. There a reason?' In some ways, body language -was- almost telepathic, just being able to communicate by a look or a gesture, and didn't require rooting around in someone's head literally.

"Linear A. It's a language that relates to ancient Greek times," Doug clarifies for Remy, though he does have to wrinkle his nose. "Sweet tea is a little too sweet, isn't it?" Spoken like a boy raised in the North.

Tilting his head at Betsy, Doug grins boyishly. "All right, I think. It's been a bit awkward at times, but I do think things are looking up. You're going to Australia?"

"You were never confined or restricted to the medical ward, Anna. It was simply advised that you remain their for your own health." Xavier corrects Rogue politely - tea included with his words. "You're more than welcome to explore the school. I'll even have Elizabeth or Doug show you around the lower areas - as you're already aware of the X-Men." He's talking about her history with the Brotherhood and his offer once long ago for her to join his team. His quirk of a very arched and pointed brow has the Professor looking towards Psylocke, "Oh, yes, do tell what has you interested in Australia?" Mimicking Dougs own curiosity.

Remy didn't get to his feet but his posture did change, one hand dropped out of sight and fingers coiled around a rock about the size of the palm of his hand, a rock that is supercharged and held there then dropped once Rogue seems to lighten up, Xavier's influence is rather impressive. A slight exhale and his smile grows genuine again, not just put there to keep his face shielded. "Oh Greek, yeah, this stuff you speak of is all Chinese to me." He teases his red-black eyes brightening up. No point in glasses here; he's amongst his own. "Buncha haters, dun know real sweet tea. Not dis garbage you all be drinkin'" He clears his throat and lifts his tea cup, "Not this Sharls. Dis be good." Quick fix! Ever the smooth talker.

Straightening her back, Betsy continues to sip her tea, her palm being the metaphorical table in which it sits upon with perfect balance. An eye shift was given to Rogue as she struggles with the cup, her brows furrowing for a moment at the mention of using something.. plastic to drink out of. "Think of the glass as an exercise, a means to keep the hands steady and calm." She says to Rogue, though.. Betsy wasn't feeling so calm herself.

But, any tea is good tea in Betsy's mind, especially with a little bit of sugar and often times lemon. With that said, her cup never had a chance to 'runneth over', it was gone within minutes of receiving the cup.

Smiling a little at Doug's response though, she answers his question along with Xavier's, as honest and vague as possible. "Yes. Australia. Somewhere there." There was a little pause as she looks down into the cup, then carefully sets it upon the grass before her. "Something out there has my attention is all. Unusually so." If they wanted to indulge further, they'd have to pry it out of her cold.. dead..

"I'm not one for tours. However. Best explored alone to become more familiar." Betsy ain't doing shit!

Rogue regains her mug, righting it by gripping the entire thing around the small round body, not the ear of it, uncaring of the heat from the tea seeping through as it is poured by Xavier.

Steaming she brings it to her lips for a gentle blow, the steam being pushed away just before she takes a sip… and sputters… "Ah! Hell X!" The back of her hand is smearing across her lips and taking droplets of tea away as she eyes the liuttle mug like its a sin. "Where's tha suga? I'm with the plague bearer for once.." She states her free hand shooting towards Remy.

Looking towards Doug and Betsy she doesn't brandish a smile, at Betsy's rejection she expects yet another from Doug, a gloved hand reaching up to tuck some of that hair behind an ear, glancing to Doug sidelong while she lowers to kneel in the grass and sit upon her heels. "Ah got this, you don't have to. Don't make them X."

Tilting his head at Betsy, Doug considers the zen-esque nature for a moment, before his face settles into calmness, body language shifting to relax. Right. Zen it was. It did indeed fit in with what Nature was saying, here in this little garden.

Picking up the cup of tea, Doug drinks carefully, making a slight face at the lack of sugar, but doesn't quite react the same way Rogue does, as he considers. "I'll be happy to, Professor, though if you don't mind, I was just stopping by to visit. Miss, uh… Anna…? May I have a rain check?" he asks, standing up.

"Plague? Me? No, chere. Remy be clean. I been checked." More jesting as Remy tries to lighten up his rough start with Rogue. "No sugar. Sad times." He confirms, Xavier denied him when he asked earlier.

"You'll have to enlighten me further when you get the chance Elizabeth. If you so choose." It's not like he is about to go prying around in her mind, Xavier gives a quick smile to the young woman before the tea and tray is set aside, on the bench next to where he has been sitting. "I'll go with you, Doug. It's late enough I need to retire as well and we can speak a little." The chair pushes forth back on to the small pathway and he glances behind him at the three mutants remaining, " I trust all of you will be civil with one another Excellent, good night.?" A small warm smile and the man is coasting along beside Cypher.

"Okay, I know there be some sugar over here somewhere." Springing up the Cajun moves to where the tray is pushing a small tin lid over to pull out a couple cubes, "Ah! Maybe dis be a good peace offering. Not wanna kill me I give you some sugar?"

Doug is followed by Rogue's gaze as he leaves, somewhat shocked he even still offered to assist though in her mind she is betting on the fact the rain check will be a never. At least Betsy is forthright.

Looking down that jar that looked like it should hold sugar is empty, nothing is heaped into that steaming cuppa nas-tea and she is looking a bit disheartened overall as she watches Charles leave as well, the creeping in tension obvious as her shoulders go rigid and forearms bear the muscles defined outline.

When Remy commences speaking she doesn't look at him from her knelt position, her cup now resting in her lap though as Remy nears the tension is even more visible, fingers coiling around that cup, making it more-so diminutive in her harsh and unwavering grasp.

"Is that why your here too?" Words are between clenched teeth, she's trying. Hard. even the cup she holds out towards him for that sugar shakes with the exertion of - Don't Home Run Him. Charles says so.

Silence, that's all Betsy could really offer up for now. Xavier's departure was met with a mental nudge, a transference of images and pictures of dreams she had, the crater of Wolf Creek, the Dreaming of old Aborigines that she hasn't even met yet. Information was willingly transferred because, he gets it. And that's all she would offer up for now and a silent goodnight with a quick stand from her spot.

Now that she lets her powers fly for the night, the temptation to probe Rogue was great, but she leaves well enough alone. The woman looked uncomfortable enough, there was no need for her to further distance her from the X-Men. She probably could be worthwhile after all. "Everyone is here for some reason or another." Even though she wasn't spoken to, she offered it up either way.

"You mean the Dark'old." Remy seems to sober up a little from the joking and light-heartenedness. A deft flick of two fingers and he tosses a sugar cube in to her cup, the man's a marksman, thats for sure.
"No. I'm here because I got my own ghosts I have to atone for, more den jus' the Dark'old. Dat was just a bad call, very bad and I am sorry you got caught up in dat one, chere. Remy make it up to you some how."
Two fingers lift up and he offers another sugar cube up for Betsy, "You know more den some of us 'eh? You walk aroun' here like you got some demons of your own." That sullen expression that briefly lived on his features now gone as a gleam appears in his eyes. "No point in dwelling, laisser le bon temps rouler, yeah?"

Rogue pulls her cup closer and looks at it, blinks and looks back at Remy with a slow blink. "You claim you know sweet tea and you give a gal on cube. What do you know?" That cup is held back out there now, her gaze incredulous even at his apology.

That gets broken when Psylocke finally comes back to their reality and speaks up. "Yeah, his fault." Rogue thumbs over in Remy's direction though now she is watching Psylocke, carefully - assessing. "You seem bored here, what's your excuse?"

"There is no dwelling in these bones. No need. It pulls me and its inviting. The demons that is." It was only a matter of time before she decides to give up and answer to it all.

She lifts her empty tea cup so that the cube could be tossed in if he wishes, afterwards, she'd pour herself another cup of tea and sip once again after it's cooled enough. Rogue's question causes her to take a little look inside herself, as if she wasn't already. A little shrug was given and she speaks the truth, from her own perception at least. "I don't know. I suppose I wasn't always that way. But things happen, and sometimes I do wonder if what keeps me here is something out of necessity or the need to belong or companionship." Though when it's had.. run away little girl.

Run away.
The cube he held for Psylocke ends up in Rogues cup but he's already sliding the remainders over towards the psi-ninja. "Workin' wit what I got here." LeBeau retorts playfully.
"We all jus' lookin' for a place to belong maybe. I hear de Professor wants Rogue here to be one of us. He's only moitier fou… uh, half-crazy." A grin appears, "Like the rest of us." Especially with the way Betsy talks. A stretch follows and Gambit's long limbs rise up above him before he lazily pulls himself in to a sprawl along that bench he was on again. "Where else would you rather be? What else out there?"

Rogue is staring at Psylocke and with what she said it seems to take a moment to sink into that auburn and white crowned head before she nods slowly. "we all have demons, I came to know this…" Recently?

Pulling her cup back to her she finally sips and seems content, somewhat, shifting in the way she sits to finally rest fully upon the grass, kicking long bare legs out in front of her after slowly sliding her feet through the grass to enjoy the feel.

"I ain't crazy." Though it's a protest it only seems half-assed.

Betsy thinks better of it, putting her glass down upon the tray that housed the tea and sugar, she was done for now, any more and she'd be running drills in the danger room for poor unsuspecting students. "She'll be a good fit. She has the attitude for it." Was that a joke? Nah. Betsy actually liked her, though she wouldn't dare tell it. Remy's question wouldn't be answered yet, for she stands up to dust off her backside with a few quick swiping pats.

"I don't know what's out there. But I figure I'll find out soon enough." Where she'd rather be, is a different discussion all together. A little smile is given to Rogue, along with a nod in agreement as she begins to slip off. "Crazy is as crazy does. Embrace it. Enjoy the ride and alla that bullocks." A flick of the wrist told of her departure, her quiet footfalls leading her to the comforts of her empty bed.
"Step over here, Remy help you wid that." Remy offers in regards to the swipe off of Betsy's backside, one of his arms had actually lifted up and fingers splayed out but then lazily drop down to the grass, coiling fingers around a green strand. Joking obviously, maybe.
"Eh, she a mess." The Cajun adds as the woman departs then quietly his eyes roll over to regard Rogue, his minds been made up, his earlier conversation with Magik decided upon now that he sees the woman's face, "You want revenge on de real people who do these bad things you think I did to you?"

Rogue's nose wringles as Remy offers to be a chauvanist to Betsy, the appalled glower still there as Betsy exits and Remy redirects his attention to her.

His question though sobers her, what was relaxing makes her tense again, her feet planting firmly into the grass as she pushed to an abrupt stand before Remy, staring down at his seated form.

The hand bearing the cup of tea turns and upends it, pouring it on the grass before him with no other movement..

Until she turns on heel and walks away. The rejection evident in her movement alone.

"I want revenge on a lot. But I ain't beating a dead horse, not that one." With her back turned she can hide perhaps what her voice cannot.


"Alors pas… but you change your mind, you come find Remy. I take you to some bad people you can punch."
The Cajun rolls on to his side turning his back towards the way Rogue just stormed off.
He knows there is fear and pain in her voice, he recalls hearing that same sound in his tones when confronting the Darkhold and it's denizens became a reality for him. But some things, like this, need to be dealt with. It'll be a good part of the healing process anyways, breaking things always is. Closing his eyes Gambit lays there on the bench in the garden enjoying the peace the place has to offer. Maybe tonight he won't get woken up by his own demons.

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