[ open ] the house was awake with shadows and monsters...

[theycalledmeacurse]

CHARACTERS: Rogue & Anyone
WHERE: Hyrypia - The Red Coast - The Barracks
WHEN: Day :028 - :033
SUMMARY: Rogue has nightmares, including of her time during the war. Anyone in the Nest and especially Avior is welcome to experience them in any fashion and/or be present for the aftermath and/or approach her about them during the day.
WARNINGS: Torture, death, imprisonment. Likely concentration camps and suicidal thoughts.


[ She doesn't mean to, and she'll feel terrible each and every time it happens. The nightmares have been near nightly companions for years now, ebbing and flowing through her sleep like oxygen through her lungs. A sound sleep is nothing more than a ephemeral dream for her now, and hard as she tries to shore up her shields each day, there are still too many cracks in the walls of that old plantation house to keep those dark thoughts contained. The memories of the war, the twisted hallways of her mind, the echoes of screams. She tries so hard, and still every night she wakes with a quiet gasp, shaking on the small bed and clutching the blanket she's been provided, trying with all her might not to wake the others.

Some nights she stays there in the little house, finding what comfort she can in the presence of her Nestmates, and other nights she pulls on her costume and flees, needing fresh air and open skies to remind her that she isn't a prisoner any longer. Sleep isn't something that will come to her easily again, and so she'll be awake for hours to come, even staying up to see the sun rise in the sky. It's a sight she's sorely missed, and even now it doesn't feel quite real. There are times when nothing feels real at all. ]



{ NIGHTMARE : the forest }

[ She doesn't feel the branches that tug at her uniform and scratch at her face, tearing strands of hair as she runs, every ounce of energy focused on staying upright, keeping moving, fleeing for her life. The others are up ahead, she'd stayed behind to give them more time, even seconds too precious to waste now. There are footsteps thundering close behind her, and the searchlights of the Sentinels pan nearby as they work to pinpoint the mutant gene within her.

It's a stone that is her downfall, quite literally. A simple rock the size of her hand, enough of a deterrent to cause her to stumble, balance tipping just long enough, and then there's a body ramming into hers and she fights. Like a wild animal, she kicks and punches with every ounce of strength she has left, scrambling for purchase among those layers of fabric to find even an inch of skin. Just one touch, that's all she needs, but the soldier's snapping a collar around her neck before she can manage it. A collar for the animal they believe she is. And still she fights. ]

{ NIGHTMARE : the lab }

[ Cerebro. The mansion. These monsters had gutted the place she'd called home and turned it into— Hell. She'd seen the gates around the perimeter, heard the screams as she was dragged down to the basement levels. The metal plating that had once been warm is now icy to the touch, barren of familiarity and stained with the souls of every mutant brought inside. Because she knows none of them leave, that isn't what this place is for. They're making the Sentinels stronger by studying mutants, and to do that—

Strapped to a metal table, they stand over her, scientists covered in sterile garb, practically every inch of them hidden from view. They might as well be alien, for all their resemblance to human beings. And as they cut into her, again and again, she sees that cruel humanity in them again. It's for science, the way they slice away a strip of skin from her forearm, right above the string of characters tattooed into her skin. M4827. They're doing their duty as the burn her other arm, searing the skin until it bubbles and blackens. They're saving the world by wheeling in another mutant, restrained and wearing an inhibitor collar, and forcing her bare hand to press against his skin. His scream echoes in her mind as she absorbs him against her will, and she begs them to stop, the words a jumbled mess as his healing factor becomes her own, the wounds vanishing as the skin regenerates, but they don't stop until the light leaves his eyes and there's no one staring back at her anymore.

I'm so sorry. Long seconds pass as they record their findings, and then it begins again. ]

{ NIGHTMARE : the mind }

[ The only home she has left is the one within her mind, the great plantation house Charles had helped her erect nearly two decades ago. Painted white and nestled within a sea of green life, sometimes she sits on that sprawling porch and enjoys a moment of peace and quiet, this being the only place she can retreat where none of the psyches will venture. Her sole source of solitude, a few dozen square feet of space within her own head.

But then she ventures within, passing the tall windows and rising staircases leading to the upper levels where her friends reside, the psyches imprinted over the years who have helped her survive. She moves past all that streaming light, further into the house where things darken and the echoes of those she hadn't been able to save are hidden away. And then down, stairs that creak and moan, into the catacombs where the darkest minds reside, the ones who call to her when she slips, who would rather see her fall and suffer than ever live a free life. The locks are methodically checked on each door, even as they rattle and the shouts within increase in intensity, the insults falling with the same sharpness as always.

Monster. Murderer. Abomination. Maybe they aren't wrong. ]

Comments

MIND.

[iuno]

[ what did Nureyev say to him that first time they met? back when he was playing at being someone else entirely, with a high sweet voice and a cruel tongue. some kind of comparison between a person's house and a person's mind, that you can tell a lot about one from the other; and then that Juno had implied everyone has a monster stalking their halls, when he'd really just been spouting off the usual snappy pessimistic bullshit he always has running on director's commentary. but — well, he has to admit. if it's true, then Juno already knows that the monster in the halls of his home is himself.

so he feels strange, on-edge and almost guilty, about wandering through a place like this. it's not like any home he's ever been in, and it's not a feeling he's ever felt, this heady mix of warmth and tranquillity in the atmosphere like an incense, cloying in his senses. he's sure that if he touches anything, it will rot under his hand, love peeling away from the walls in decay. he doesn't touch. he follows the vague pull towards what seems like the center, which must be whoever owns the dream he's wandered into. it's an easy conclusion to reach, even with his limited time in the Nest so far and mostly hazy recollections of other people's sleeping minds; this couldn't possibly belong to him.

he finds Rogue down below and the feeling there is much more familiar. home sweet home. ]

( Nice place you've got here. ) [ he doesn't bother being delicate about it. he's in her head. they're miles past the point of delicacy already and there's no way to soften the blow, so he won't waste either of their time. ] ( It's too bad about the company. )

[ the joke might be lost without the impressions shared in a hivemind, but with that connection, it's clearer that he's being funny — he means himself. he's the bad company, get it? after all, he was making himself into a shrapnel bomb when he and Rogue met, and he's sure she doesn't want him in her head any more than he wants to be here. ]

[theycalledmeacurse]

[ With so many of others who have wandered (or been pulled against their will) into Rogue's dreams, it's also been her first meeting with them. Seeing Juno standing there, feeling a presence she recognizes, is a much-needed relief from the cyclical nightmare that never quite leaves her, even during the waking hours.

Turning toward him, she sets a hand on her hip and tilts her head to the side, leaning ever so slightly away from the door she'd just been checking. Gotta put a little distance between her and whoever it behind that sheet of steel, even if the reality is they're forever in her mind and there's no escaping. ]

( I don't know, I think you could pull off house-guest just fine, sugar. )

[iuno]

[ they don't need to be sharing a mental link for it to be obvious that Juno doesn't believe her on that count. he's rarely welcome anywhere even when all of his bullshit is contained safely inside his own head; with the Nest, he feels like he may as well just be bleeding on the carpet everywhere he goes. he doesn't make apologies for it, but the guilt touches Rogue whether he means it to or not, a bitter taste and a discomfort with being here — I don't belong here, steady and certain as a heartbeat.

this is a home, and Juno is... Juno is rot in the wood. it doesn't bother him, he knows what he is, as sure as he knows that he shouldn't be here. but navigating the Nest is hard enough when he's awake; he's not sure how to untangle himself from this without pulling at parts of Rogue too. ]

( If I'd known I was going to be dropping by, I'd have gotten dolled up first. ) [ sarcastic, although not entirely untrue. he was never as lavish as Nureyev even on his best days, but he does miss cosmetics. ] ( You come down here to check the locks? )

[ it isn't prying; he just can't get rid of the detective habit even when he's asking a question out of curiosity. really, he can't figure Rogue out. he can understand why he would be down here, because he'd be torturing himself, knowing it's what he deserves. she didn't seem the type. ]