5/25 Instance: Marriage Councelling

[fourpawsonthefloor]

Timeline: Day after Dealing

Mayhem: Mayhem took a drag out of his pipe, eyes closed and booted feet up on a table as he slumped a little sideways in the chair, tail dangling over a leg. His tophat was half-tipped over his eyes and the hand not holding his pipe was dragging on the patio floor - the absolute picture of draping relaxation. Aside from the odd puff of smoke, he could have almost appeared asleep.

Mayhem: He'd finally got some pipe tobacco and Monet had seen him to some weed, and he was using it to full effect.

Rogue: Rogue pulled out her phone to check the time then pushed to stand, walking carefully to the edge of the roof. This had been much easier when she could fly. She sat on the edge and turned around, pushing herself over bit by bit until her legs could wrap around the post on the patio. She made a small yelp when she slipped, but her hands caught at the pole as well just in time.

Mayhem: Mayhem heard the yelp, tipping his hat up with the mouthpiece of his pipe and opening one heavy-lidded eye. "Yous alrigh' up there, moi luver?" His accent was a lot thicker as he watched Rogue climb. "Want an 'and?"

Rogue: "No," she managed through gritted teeth as she concentrated on working down until her feet hit the railing. She hopped down from there and let out a breath. "Dang." Rogue looked over to Mayhem with a grin, "Hey, sugah."

Mayhem: " 'Ello there." He grinned at her in the leisurely, fangy way usually reserved for well-fed lions as he pulled his tophat off and plonked it on a foot. "Seemed t' be in a bit of'n difficulty there."

Rogue: Rogue pushed up to sit on the railing and tipped her head at Mayhem, "Oh? An' what gave y'all that idea?"

Mayhem: "Y' yelped, moi darlin'." He gestured vaguely at the pole with his pipe before taking another drag from it, purring. " 'S usually constitutes someone inna bit'r bother, if Ah'm righ'. A damsel in distress, if yer don' min' me sayin'."

Rogue: Rogue frowned at him, "Ah ain't a damsel in distress. Ah'm perfectly capable o' doin' just 'bout everythin' Ah could 'fore."

Mayhem: "Ah was jokin', luver, don' get yer feathers in a twist." Mayhem waved a hand, tilting his head to watch her. "Sides. Ah know tha'. Or'd 'ave climbed to help you. Well. Tried." He smiled again.

Rogue: She snorted at that, "Yeah, like y'all could even move 'bout now." She stuck a foot out to poke him with her toes. "Look stoned off ya ass."

Mayhem: "Dat'd be 'cause I am." He grinned back, slouching a little more and then offering the pipe. "Wan' some?"

Rogue: "No thanks," she made a face and shook her head. "Ain't inta that kinda stuff. Havin' fun though?"

Mayhem: "More f'me, aye." He took another drag. "Wee-eell. Ah be sittin' out here beside myself, high as a kite an' no bugger t' talk to." Mayhem looked up at the sky. "Ah be bored shitless."

Rogue: "Thought it was fun ta be alone when ya were high? Don't a lotta folks do that ta relax?" Rogue tilted her head at him, confused.

Mayhem: "Oh aye. Aye. Ah like t' talk though. Talk about anythin', me, mostly shit but eh." Mayhem tapped the spent pipe out and started thumbing plain tobacco into the bowl. "So what bring y' down yon pole ther', me 'andsom?"

Rogue: "Just figured Ah'd been on tha roof long enough. Sam might get worried. Told him Ah wouldn't be alone from now on 'less Ah was in tha bathroom... But old habits die hard." Rogue blinked, "Ah'm sorry... Did y'all just call me handsome?"

Mayhem: "Oh, not you too. 'S a colloquial sayin' back 'ome, so it be." Mayhem grinned, lighting his pipe. "An' in case y' ain't noticed, Ah tend to use them more if Ah be stoned enough. Don' mean nothin' by it."

Rogue: "Yeah... Thinkin' Sam don't like it when ya call me 'lover'. But he can just get over it. Same as Remy callin' me 'chére'. Don't mean nothin'." She shrugged. "So why ya smokin' alone if ya like talkin', sugah?"

Mayhem: "Ain' no one t' talk with."

Rogue: "Nobody? C'mon. Bet someone here'd like ta smoke an' talk with ya. Ah mean, don't get me wrong, Ah like talkin' ta ya, but surely someone woulda come out with ya if ya'd asked, yeah?"

Mayhem: "B'ain' no one to ask, Rogue." Mayhem gestured expansively. "All hidin' or people Ah don' feel able t' talk to. You's alrigh' but yer boy don' like me, Ah think."

Rogue: "He's just a bit possessive's all... Ain't nothin' ta do with y'all." She smiled at him. "So? Whatcha wantin' ta talk 'bout?"

Mayhem: "Anythin' and everythin', moi darlin'." Mayhem grinned. "What you bin up to since las' we conversed?" Gods, all he needed was a monocle.

Rogue: "Tryin' ta keep Sam feelin' safe 'bout me stayin' here after all that happened. Wants me ta leave..." She paused. She could take the opportunity to run again. Not far... Just away. For a while... No. No she couldn't leave them.

Mayhem: "No powers, eh?" Mayhem took a deep pull, leaving the pipe in his mouth. "Ah ain' tole my folks yet. 'Sides, t'ain' bothered me all tha' much, sides the verses. An' I don' believe in god, aye?"

Rogue: "No?" Rogue tilted her head, "Why not?"

Mayhem: "What, no' believin' in God, or not bein' bothered?"

Rogue: "Believin' in God. Ya believe in somethin', don'tcha?"

Mayhem: "A-righ'." Mayhem shifted, showing her the ring on his finger, a pentacle set in celtic weaving. "Wiccan's be tha closest name, Ah suppose. I'm a witch. Triple Goddess, all tha gods, all tha'."

Rogue: "Oh, ok." She smiled at him, "So ya believe in some form o' higher power. Just not tha same kind Ah do. Ah can get that."

Mayhem: Mayhem nodded. "Ah'm glad. B'ain' sober enough fer a philosphical discussion, lover." He smirked.

Rogue: "Heh... Sorry, hun. Just tryin' ta make conversation."

Mayhem: " 'S awrigh'. Appreciate it. Min' you, Mum says tha' all gods be th' same at tha end'f the day, eh?" Mayhem's tail tapped against a boot. "Interestin' idea."

Rogue: "Ah ain't sure Ah get it... What's she mean by that?"

Mayhem: Mayhem frowned, shifting, sorting through his thoughts like a swimmer through molasses. "Like...no matter where ye go, 's always tha same type'a gods, y' know? Thor, Zeus an' all that. So....how hard it be fer it t' take the next step an' be all th' same?"

Mayhem: "Even witches believe dere be th' One, Universal whatsit."

Rogue: "'Kay.." Rogue frowned, still not quite getting it, but she shrugged and accepted his answer. "Can Ah ask ya somethin'? 'Bout ya religion?"

Mayhem: "Aye, moi lover, can ask me anythin'."

Rogue: "Y'all's god'r gods frown on premarital sex?"

Mayhem: "Ffft. No." Mayhem snorted. "Sex be a gift. Great Rite, aye? Some schools a'Wicca think it shoul' be performed by th' High Priest an' Priestess in every rite - married or no, wit' people or not. 'S the whole...." He gestured vaguely with the pipe. "Life an' altars an' all."

Rogue: "Yeah... Sex is a gift. Mah religion teaches me that too." She chewed her lip. Sam would kill her. "So... Say someone was feelin' guilty 'bout havin' sex 'fore marriage... How'd ya go 'bout explainin' that they shouldn't be?"

Mayhem: "If it was tha' bad, God woulda done summat t' stop it." Mayhem waved a hand. "Marraige's human invention anyway, moi lover. Th' gods don' care, so long as you ain' hurtin' no one."

Rogue: Rogue thought about that for a minute. "Guess that'd work..."

Rogue: She leaned forward to put her elbows on her knees and looked up at him, "Ah don't wanna get married..."

Mayhem: Mayhem nodded, then grinned. "Why, Sam tryna be a good ol' Southern boy?"

Rogue: "Kinda. He says he's mostly made peace with everythin', but he's still got a tiny bit o' guilt... Says he's too young ta get married anyway. Ah gave him a ring so he knows Ah'll always love him. What more's he wantin'?" She sighed and repeated herself, "Ah don't wanna get married..."

Mayhem: "Well, tell 'im 's marraige enough, ain't it? Man, woman, love, ring, promise not t' part, get on wit' the fun, moi lover, an' stop him beatin' himself up, ey?" Mayhem snickered. "Jus' call me Reverend De Noir."

Rogue: Rogue laughed at that. "Maybe he'd agree with y'all on that part? Comin' from another man an' all? Think he heard me, but didn't really hear me. Ya know? Like, Ah believe him that he's alright with what we've got goin' on f' tha most part... But its that other part Ah wanna get fixed."

Mayhem: "Aye, well, like Ah said, don' think he likes me." Mayhem shrugged, too used to it to let it bother him.

Rogue: "Ah think he likes ya fine."

Mayhem: "Didn' smell like it tha other day." Mayhem frowned. "Mebbe it's th' 'Lover' thing. Ye think?"

Rogue: "Bettin' so." She grinned, "Should try talkin' ta him, hun."

Mayhem: "An' not call ye lover, darlin' or 'andsome in front o' him, righ'?"

Rogue: "He just ain't used ta it, sugah. He'll be fine. Though handsome might make him stare at ya like ya grew a second head."

Mayhem: Mayhem finished the pipe and knocked it out, stowing it somewhere. "Eh, maybe. Well, Ah got th' class A munchies now. Want anythin' before I raid tha kitchen?"

Rogue: "Don't touch mah cookies." She grinned, "Nah, just kiddin', hun. Help yaself. Gonna follow ya in though... Gotta keep mah promise ta Sam an' all."

Mayhem: "Awrigh'. Let me know if ye need anythin' else from tha Reverend, moi lover." Mayhem stood gracefully and bowed lavishly to Rogue, managing to keep his balance as he put his tophat on. "Now. Ah be likin' the sound of those cookies. Show me?"

[fourpawsonthefloor]

Would be interesting to see if he could have a convo with him about having sex with Rogue and not want to punch him.