![]() ![]() Either that or I forgot.”Ĭrystal clapped her hands together, making a sharp clacking sound. “Are you serious?” Fish tightened a string on his guitar as he thought. “It’s funny, I don’t think we’ve actually swapped our mutation stories with each other before.” They never spoke, at least not in front of her, and the naked, somber skull that marked their head gave her a stomach churning feeling of dread.Ĭrystal sighed and turned back to Rogue. Of all the mutants, she found Melting to be the most unsettling. Through the fire Rogue could see the amorphous bundle of flesh roil into a more comfortable position. hovered over the empty spot next to the mutant and shuffled a stack of brilliant green paper.Ī gurgling groan alerted the group that Melting was awake. The gun god floated next to Eyes, who was sitting on a log and tearing maggots out of the sand with their mind. ![]() “Kid, I’m a fish in the middle of a freakin’ desert. “I thought it would be a sensitive topic.” Said Rogue.įish laughed, gills shining in the firelight. “I was wonderin’ how long it would take you to ask.” He said with a grin. She’d tried telling the mutant that her suit could withstand a few bullets, but Crystal had only clicked her tongue (or mimicked the noise very well) and mumbled something about squishy human skin.įish, who had been tuning his guitar, paused. The first few fights Rogue had found herself more than once trapped behind Crystal’s shield form. She mothered over all the mutants both in and out of battle. “You mean to mutate?”Ĭrystal had become a close friend the minute Rogue had appeared. “What was it like…” Crystal folded her polishing rag and laid it over her lap. A way that didn't make it sound as if she saw them as freaks. It wasn't as if she hadn't been thinking about asking it for the last few days, but she'd hoped to phrase it in a more delicate way. The question flew out of her mouth before she could stop it. It was while she was staring that the question surged forward, escaping from her battle weary mind and into the cold night air. The webs between his fingers stretched and wrinkled as his hands moved. “What was it like?” The question pounded against her skullįish plucked at his guitar with long, curved nails. And also what state her body was in underneath the bandages that covered her form. She wondered what the bandit, Rebel, was thinking. Rogue stole glances at her from time to time. Their newest member, a turncoat from the bandit tribe, sat just outside the circle of firelight. After a long battle, no, more like a war, with the resident bandits their leader had been gunned down and the tribe had scattered. What did it feel like to have the old you torn away, and have a new one rise from the ashes? ![]() “What was it like?” It bounced around her brain. A fierce, burning question would not allow itself to be pushed aside for long. But there was a question that had burned in her mind since she had laid eyes on them. They had fought so many battles together that she had come to view them the same way she had her fellow officers in the I.D.P.D. Some nights, if she was up to it, Rogue would join in on their pre-dinner singing sessions, the trashtalk lyrics garbled but cheerful in her mouth. She’d been invited into their party without too many distrustful glares and was allowed to share the warmth of the campfire come nighttime. The gang of mutants she had joined up with were good people. ![]()
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