A CRYIN' SHAME.

she would smile. a slight shrug. an affirmative nod.

" can't go wrong with sewing. " a bit of truth there. what harm had a whip stitch ever done? the learning part did leave a question or two in its wake ; the questions all revolving around one form or another of 'can't you just program that in?' but it didn't feel the type of night where learning was on the menu.

" learn to sew and you can whip up a dress one day, then turn around and save a life the next. dunno'why it isn't seen as a more valuable skill -- actually that's a lie, it's not seen as valuable because women are supposed to do it. -- but i'm sure you get what i mean. it SHOULD be seen as more valuable is what i'm going for. " rogue would pause as fingernails tapped across the table, a rhythm almost present ... but not quite.

" you make a valid point. " vega liked it, really. she liked the way all of the space was hers, and it wasn't so large that she felt at a loss as to what to do with it. it felt comfortable, somehow, to be enclosed in a small space in which she could see all of the walls at once. less disorienting.

Morgan watches the gesture with a wry grin - understanding most of what she means, and impressed with himself that he's managed to impress her so much.

Has he ever really seen her anything so close to speechless?

"Thankyou. I appreciate the no-bullshit compliment." His wry grin gets a little wider. "You can ask - I don't think there's any illusion to be wrecked, really. The truth is, it took me longer than I thought. My first couple of attempts at getting the petals right didn't work."

Either the shape was a little off, or the colour wasn't right - or in one memorable occasion, he'd gotten his temperatures wrong and managed to shatter the entire thing.

"But we got there in the end. I thought just one would be enough. A bouquet might be overkill, you know."

given that morgan seemed open about his process, and with rogue being genuinely curious as far as the topic was concerned, it felt like the perfect time to poke around a little and gather what information she could. sure, it could all be looked up on her own time. a list of facts and instructions pulled up on a screen, personal opinion and artistic process nowhere to be found -- but that was the single quickest way to kill the whimsy. and regardless of how morgan seemed to feel there was plenty of whimsy to be found.

I wanna know you are out there, doin what you do. Bein' you whatever you be. Just doin' it where I can ignore it, make what I want out of it without knowin. Want you to just be without any of the baggage."

He'd shrug.

inhale. exhale. the purest of comforts mixed with undeniable self harm. as smoke slowly ate away at her lungs rogue would watch the other as he began, one dark brow forming an especially suspicious arch the instant he started to speak ; if ever she was forced to give him a compliment, it would be that one truly never knew what would come out of that horrific mouth.

exhale. inhale. a quiet laugh made its way around the cig now resting between her lips, the sound closer to a rumble than it was to anything melodic , closer to sarcasm than it was to humor. " you're out of your mind, you know that? " a rhetorical question, because of course he knew - whatever mind was left was an unwell, rotten thing. everyone knew as much, it just so happened that rogue was one of the few unlucky souls to deal with it up close and personal.

not that they doubted rogue. they just thought they were better. it was a good match, though - it would be worth the effort. who knew, it could even happen more than once, if it went well.

He'd regard the woman with a mixture of hatred and indifference that was different from how he so often regarded the rest of the world with those very emotions. It would always be more personal with her, far too much history. At this point, Adam remembered less about what made him dislike her, these days he simply remembered remembering the cause. So many days hunting her, her ever elusive form, or his own limitations that made her untouchable. In the end Adam was not his own actor, if he wanted to continue his path there were certain conditions he'd have to meet.

Now as he stood before her again the borg was not entirely certain he wanted to kill her. Of course he wanted it, but what would he want after he'd brought her insides to the outside? All the good men were dead, all the people worth remembering were broken, buried, their blood stained on parts of him he'd long tossed away and upgraded. Rouge was one of the few people from all this time that still endured.

What was he without his hate? Just a machine?

Her throat looked so clean compared to what he usually wrapped his hand around. It would be enjoyable to squeeze the life out of her, watch her slowly expire in his palm as he squeezed harder and harder. It was all impossible though, with his current set up he couldn't strangle her the way he'd wanted, couldn't feel steel bore into her flesh, pressing it against itself, her throat being violently pinched and crushed as she gagged for air and breathed nothing. No, the moment he tried he'd simply sever her head from her body, her neck breaking free from the rest of her, head shooting off into the Heavens.

Not intimate enough.

it was the truth. but she couldn't be expected to really believe it.

in her mind the truth had been distorted in the blink of an eye, the reasonable voices losing out to those who saw the concept of PERMISSION TO RUN as nothing more than a trap.

she's told that it can all end > she chooses to believe it > it was nothing more than a failed test and in the end she's back at square one, paying off debts she ought not be on the hook for to begin with.

it wasn't worth the risk.

" i'm living in watson, " she answers. and even by those standards, it would be safe to assume vega wasn't living anywhere particularly up-market. frankly, the only reason she could afford the rent without too much trouble, given her inconsistent employment prospects, was that she didn't have to shell out on the things most people did nearly so often - little necessities such as food, for example. " it's, um, " she scrunches up her nose, makes a face that conveys much more of her feeling than the answer itself does, " just a little apartment. it's okay. "

" people are too hard on watson. " rogue would offer, nodding for a moment after vega spoke. " and little apartments are better. safer. it's hard for someone to lurk in the shadows when there isn't enough room for shadows to begin with, right? " a rhetorical question. she already knew that it was right.