Stories by RogueStar
Gambit finds his way back to the Mansion ... and asks for a retrial.
Rogue and Gambit both suffer through reminders that neither of them can escape
their pasts. (Unfinished.)
"Blowing in the Wind"
In honor of the Gambit Guild's "Gambit Day," RogueStar writes a story of reconciliation and hope for Rogue and Gambit.
"The Briar Patch"
A dark, thorny look at how Rogue might internally view her powers. Takes place
after Rogue's emergence from the Siege Perilous.
A series of holiday-themed stories about personal despair and choices
for the future, featuring Siryn, Rogue, Gambit and Marrow.
A series of three stories written as a gift for the mailing lists Southern Comfort and Gambit Guild.
- featuring Gambit and Bebete (the green mist lady)
"Gold" - featuring Cyclops and Phoenix
"Myrrh" - featuring Rogue, Gambit and Nightcrawler
"Demain des l'aube"
Rogue mourns the death of her mother and plans to pass Raven's teachings on to her own unborn child.
"The Eighth Color of the Rainbow"
After his "death" at the end of the Magneto War, Joseph makes one last trip to Salem Center to say a very special goodbye.
In a pocket universe where Rogue stayed in the service of her foster mother Mystique, Rogue becomes known as the woman who killed Magneto. (Unfinished.)
"For My Daughter"
A woman in Mississippi writes a long-overdue letter to her daughter.
Rogue and Gambit think back to when they once decided to break up for good -- and laugh at their younger selves' naivete. Written in response to the recent X-book writing/editorial decision to break them up.
Just before Rogue and Remy are set to leave for their honeymoon, Rogue finally reveals the real reasons she's so uneasy about being with him. A response to Rogue and Gambit's rumored break-up in Gambit #16.
"The Horse of Another
Magnus, the Mage, demands a tithe from a small town every month. This time,
he wants the townspeople to deliver Rogue as his tribute, or else find for him
the mythical horse of a different color. (Unfinished. In revision.)
"The Sword and the Rose"
Sabrina and Remy LeBeau settle into their new roles as husband and wife as they
train and prepare to defend themselves in a world that has become even more
Rogue asks Gambit to accept the real her. A response to "All's
Fair..." by R.V. Bemis.
Rogue and Gambit make their piece and decide to get back together. In response
to Gambit #16.
In a different world, Mystique had early ties to the Thieves Guild and sent
Rogue to New Orleans to study the arts of thievery.
Gambit offers Jean a small comfort as she grieves over Cyclops' apparent death.
Inspired by UXM #386.
As Rogue lay dying, probably of the Legacy Virus, Gambit fulfills her final wish: one last dance.
"The Magician and the Butterfly"
Sabine Robbins leaves her settled life with Cody as a farmer's wife and runs away with a circus magician. Told from mulitple perspectives.
"A Matter of
When Soldier Alpha escapes the project and joins the rebels, it is up to a Black
Striper to bring her to justice. Unfinished.
Rogue stares at her reflection in the mirror and evaluates what she is -- and
isn't. X-Men: Evolution universe.
Queen and the Hunter"
Barely more than a child when she married Magnus, Rogue quietly defers to her
husband, then feels the urge to rebel. Age of Apocalypse.
to the Rooftop"
As they settle into their new roles as leaders of the X-Men, Rogue and Gambit
try to settle into another role as well: platonic friends.
(with Keri Wilson)
After their wedding, Rogue and Gambit record a farewell message of sorts
for Sehkmet Conoway. Sillyfic.
Sim Salem Project
An ongoing series of stories in which Rogue and Gambit are living a happy
suburban life with their precocious son, Luc.
"The Cherry Cookie Incident"
"The Sphinx's Question"
"Gotta Learn Them All"
"Saturday Morning in Salem Center"
"The Cabbage Patch"
Centering on the relationship between Rogue and Remy and on the growing human
intolerance of mutants, this story begins (in terms of "normal" continuity)
just before Bishop joins the team and ends just after LegionQuest.
When Mercy LeBeau comes to deliver some news to Gambit, she falls in lust with Iceman and chaos ensues. (Unfinished.)
After coming back home to the X-Mansion, many of the X-Men, including Rogue and Colossus, try to make peace with the ghosts in their lives. (Unfinished.)
(With Faith Barnett)
Just after the Trial of UXM 350, the various X-Men try to get on with their
in the Woods"
Banished to the woods after her disastrous encounter with Cody, Rogue is suspicious
when she meets a beautiful woman who wants to take care of her.
"A Window to Her Soul"
Colossus awakens and finds inspiration in Rogue's sleeping form.
elsewhere in Alykat's World:
"The Morning Paper"
Hank and Bobby miss seeing their favorite comic strip in the Sunday paper. A
tribute to Peanuts creator Charles Schulz.
(at (un)frozen and Stars & Garters)
Web sites: textualchemy, RogueStar's Galaxy, Caldecott,
in the House
The club has no name, but makes up for it with the hottest jazz
in New Orleans. Like all good night clubs, it survives on reputation
and exclusivity. On any night of the week, it is packed with knowledgable
locals and tourists fortunate enough to stumble on it and look beyond
the ramshackle exterior. Beneath the almost institutional, concrete
facade, the club remembers Lousiana's French colonial heritage.
White, parquet walls and marbled floor are golden beneath the lamplight,
while the people shimmer sepia as they dance. Were it not for the
clothes of the dancers, it could be a scene from an aged, yellowed
Music aside, that is why Gambit loves it. Unlike New York, which
wears its past lightly, New Orleans is a city of history and years
are nothing in comparison to centuries. When he comes to the club,
he feels as if he is fifteen again, has sneaked out of the upstairs
window to meet Belladonna for a night of dancing. His father must
have known of his son's nocturnal activities, but winked at them
for reasons Remy does not want to consider now. Retrospectively
considered, no aspect of his youth would seem innocent and he refuses
to see the club in the same light - as a place where the alliance
between the two guilds was cemented. He glances around the room,
almost expecting to see Belladonna in the corner where she always
met him. He knows she still comes to the club, comes for much the
same reasons he does: to escape the reality and the responsibilities
of adulthood. She always danced recklessly as if to lose herself
in the music but delighting in her control, in much the same way
that Rogue does now.
He was surprised when his lover (or so he hopes) told him that
she was coming with them to New Orleans. Although things were comfortable
between them again, she did lead the other team and took her responsibilities
very seriously. Self-confessed control freak that she was, he half-expected
her to have spent the entire quiet period between missions in training
with her group. She laughed when he mentioned that to her, and commented
that, thank you very much, she was not quite Cable yet. That they
needed to spend time together and, if he was in New Orleans for
the week, that was where she would be.
"Woolgatherin' again, LeBeau?" Rogue's voice is challenging, as
she looks up him with a half-smile, "Ah guess Ah should take it
that Ah'm not interestin' enough ta hold yo' attention."
Laughing, "I was t'inkin' about ya. As always."
She raises an eyebrow, "If Ah were you, Ah'd take your sweet-talk
somewhere it might do some good. Jean needs a dance-partner an'
Ah'm volunteerin' yo' services."
The comment about not being a rent-a-stud dies on his lips as Remy
looks over her shoulder to where Phoenix is standing against a pillar.
The music has changed from fast zydeco to slow, sultry jazz, and
people have paired off accordingly, leaving her alone. He does not
need his empathy to see how lonely, how much in agony she is. Her
eyes flicker around the room, as if daring someone to comment on
her isolation. Her partner, her soul-mate, is dead in all ways that
matter, incorporated into one of the X-Men's worst enemies, and
she is forced to go on without him. His arms tighten slightly around
Rogue as he nods.
"Oui, dat she does," he replies, "Ya'll be okay?"
"No, LeBeau, in th' five minutes you'll be away from me, Ah'll
turn into a gibberin' wreck an' end up killin' everyone in this
club," she drawls sardonically as she gives him a playful shove
on the chest, "Ah'll be fine, but Jeannie needs you."
"Ah well, gibberin' an' psychotic be pretty normal f'r ya, so I
guess we c'n risk it," he kisses the top of her head, then turns
to find Jean before she can reply.
Jean Grey-Summers - she clings tenaciously to the second part of
her surname - wishes she had not come to New Orleans. Ironically,
she was one of the keenest advocates of Gambit's idea to pass some
time in his native city, while he dealt with Guild business. She
thought at the time that she could avoid the memories, the history,
the pain, by avoiding the mansion, but she did not take into account
the fact that New Orleans is a city of ghosts. That the dead seem
to walk the narrow streets and laugh at the living from the wrought
iron balconies. If there were a city where she could imagine Scott
returning to her, it is this one and that is more painful than any
of the memories that Westchester could invoke.
Worse still, the frenetic zydeco music and the communal dancing
has been replaced by the seductive purr of jazz and the intimacy
of entwined couples. Unsurprisingly, with an apologetic smile at
Jean, Gambit quickly claimed Rogue and guided her to an open space
on the dancefloor. She glances enviously at them, as the younger
woman fits her head beneath his chin and he wraps his arms tighter
around her. Evidently, they are together again and blissfully content
for it. She looks around for Nathan, wondering whether he will be
prepared to dance with her, but he is glowering in the corner and
she thinks she will have more fun without him. When she looks back,
Remy is standing in front of her, hands in his pockets.
"Hey, Jeanne," he always gives her name a French lilt that never
ceases to make it sound sexy, "Can't have de prettiest girl at de
party not dancin'. Care t'join me on de dance floor?"
"Rogue sent you, didn't she?" she folds her arms across her chest,
looking at him with amusement. Impartially speaking, he is easily
the most gorgeous man of her acquaintance. A tight, white shirt
and tighter jeans flaunt a perfectly proportioned body. Unlike the
other members of their team, Remy has the build of an acrobat -
tall and slim, muscular without the bulkiness of someone like Wolverine.
His face has the angular lines of his French ancestors, softened
by his designer stubble (or the result of a four o'clock meeting
with an Emil Lapin), while his demonic eyes are as alluring and
tempting as sin.
"How did ya know?" he grins, "T'ought ya couldn' read either o'
"Please, Remy, I know a pity-invitation when I see one," she shakes
her head, "They usually happened to other women, but..."
"I don' know," he shrugs, his smile broadening as he gestures her
to follow him, "Pity's one t'ing I don' feel when I'm dancin' wit'
de best-lookin' woman in de room."
"I'll add that particular comment to my list of things not to tell
Rogue," she says wryly, as she steps beneath the sepia lights of
"I'd be obliged," he sounds amused, as he places an arm around
her and intertwines his fingers with hers. She notes with some amusement
that his grip is text-book, his free hand rests in the center of
her back and there is clear air between them. Realising that he
is dancing with her out of politeness ironically helps her to relax,
and she leans a little closer to him. He smells of a muted, expensive
cologne, and Rogue's light, citrusy perfume.
"So, what d'ya t'ink of my town, Jeanne?" his conversation is as
polite as his dancing.
"I'm still trying to process your house, let alone New Orleans
in general," she laughs, making half-a-truth do for a lie. She doubts
that any of the team expected him to have a mansion, let alone one
that made the X-Men's home in Westchester look small by comparison.
On some level, they knew that he was probably a multibillionaire
that made a lie of the adage that crime did not pay, but it had
always been much easier to dismiss him as the stereotype he portrayed
- the poor, uneducated Cajun boy who had been forced into a life
of crime because he was not fit or intelligent enough for any other
job. Instead, the truth seemed to be closer to a man with a genius-level
IQ who chose his lifestyle because he loved it and was damn good
at it. She was being forced to reevaluate him, and she was not finding
"Ah, oui, chez Remy," he grins, "Ya gotta love a place dat makes
a style statement outta white sheets, cardboard boxes an' dust."
She laughs, a brittle tinkle like glass smashing, "I'll have to
get your decorator for the boat house now that I'm moving back to
He is silent, but she can feel the waves of empathy coming from
him. Usually, he is psionic static - a grey, neutral blur to her
awareness - and knows that he is allowing her to read him. It is
comforting in a way that words cannot be, and she allows herself
to relax into it. For a moment, she can almost pretend that he is
Scott and she is feeling all of this through a wonderful, mystical
psychic bond. For a moment, she rests her head on his chest and
tightens her arms around his waist. For a moment, she lets herself
breathe with him and revel in the warmth of a body against her own.
Lost in the game, she says his name: "Scott."
"Gawd, Nate, impossible as it seems, ya look even grimmer than
usual," Rogue comments as she comes to stand beside Cable on the
edge of the dancefloor. Expression on his face implacable, he is
watching Gambit and Phoenix sway together in the intimate, personal
dance of lovers. Even knowing it is a pretense on her boyfriend's
part, even knowing that she is the one with whom he loves to dance,
she has to admit that it makes her uncomfortable. She is acutely
aware of the way the golden light catches Jean's hair and makes
it into an aura of glory; of how her brown shoulders slip out of
her red shirt; of how touchable and kissable she looks; of how the
woman can offer Remy everything that she cannot.
"She called him Scott," Cable's voice is flat and blank, "And he
did not say anything to her. He just carried on dancing with her
Grimacing, trying to sound more confident than she felt, "What
could he have said to her, Nate? 'Ah'm not your dead husband, but
Ah'm very sorry fo' yo' loss'."
"He should have said something," he repeats, "He's allowing her
to delude herself."
"Nate, hon, we all have our delusions," she replies, "Me, for example,
Ah'm pretendin' that you aren't the cold SOB Ah know you are and
that you're gonna let Jean have hers for an evenin'."
"That's absolutely..." he begins angrily, but pauses with a strange
expression on his face as he looks back at the dancing couple. Rogue
follows the gaze to where Jean is smiling, arms around Remy's waist,
head on his shoulder. Her eyes are closed and she is swaying in
his embrace. She looks happier than Rogue has seen her in a long
time, looks almost content. "Yes, Rogue, I think I will."
* FIN *
DISCLAIMER: Er, clearly, this piece was
inspired by Uncanny X-Men #386. The situation is Claremont's, just
as the characters are Marvel's. Feedback to firstname.lastname@example.org
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