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Fic: Logan Dear

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  • erriewyvern
    Title: Logan Dear Author: Errie Wyvern Summary: I must keep my eyes on Orpheus, and never on Logan dear, never on Logan dear. Rating: PG-13 for what I think is
    Message 1 of 1 , Jan 5, 2002
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      Title: Logan Dear
      Author: Errie Wyvern
      Summary: I must keep my eyes on Orpheus, and never on Logan dear,
      never on Logan dear.
      Rating: PG-13 for what I think is disturbing imagery
      Archiving: WRFA, anyplace that has or wants my other stuff. I would
      like to be told beforehand.
      Disclaimer: Own nothing. Just playing in an artist's workshop.
      Notes: Actually, I'm not sure that I even got the legend right. I
      found a poem by darkstar, and it kinda inspired me. Kinda. This was
      actually a Challenge in a Can (http://www.dymphna.net/challenge) for
      Rogue, bed, and tragic. I think it's too odd to send in, but tell me
      what you think. And I just saw Moulin Rouge, so there are references
      to that in there. If you've never seen, GO!!!! Rent!!! NOW! If
      Shakespeare ever made a movie, it would be Moulin Rouge. One more, no
      quotation marks and it doesn't make a whole lot of sense.

      There is no light in Jean's eyes when she goes to Rogue's room in the
      middle of the night. She knocks on the heavy oak door, hesitantly at
      first, but then she's pounding harder and faster because what she has
      to say can't wait and oh my God.

      Rogue answers the door, mumbling Jean, Jean, what is it, what's
      wrong? And Jean is sitting on the floor, melted in a puddle of satin
      and red hair, milky white hands pounding the floor as hard as they
      can, while their master sobs louder than ever before, I'm sorry, I'm
      so so sorry.

      Rogue's eyes widen as she pulls Jean up from the floor, curious
      students peeking out of their respective doorways. Rogue tells them
      to hush and go to bed. Jean is so sorry, she's a terrible person for
      not being able to tell what was wrong and she is so sorry.

      Rogue shakes her, and then takes her inside to sit on the bed, with
      it's messed-up covers and cute stuffed animals. She grabs Mr. Horsy
      and tears leak onto him. Jean, tell me! What is the matter!?

      Jean sobs harder, I'm so sorry Rogue, it's all my fault. If I had
      only known…

      Rogue pales and ices over inside. Known what Jean? What is all your
      fault?

      Logan… Is all she can say. But it is enough.

      Logan? There are tears in her voice, because she is Rogue and he is
      Logan and they were supposed to be together. What has happened to
      Logan? Her voice rises a pitch and it catches on his name.

      He's… Jean takes a steadying breath. He's dead, Rogue. I am so
      sorry. It is all my fault! This whole tragedy, all Jean's fault.
      She breaks down, something inside snapping at the thought that Jean
      made Romeo and Juliet, but stopping the play before Juliet died,
      leaving Romeo wandering around for his lost lover.

      Rogue is in shock, No no, he can't be dead. He promised to protect
      me, my freedom. He wasn't supposed to end this way! Or maybe he
      was, and she just doesn't want to face it, pretend instead that the
      Fates are playing a cruel joke, soon he will walk through that door
      and laugh. Marie, Marie! You didn't believe I was really dead, did
      you?

      But no. Orpheus and Eurydice are but a myth. She will never get a
      chance to save him, however foolish the ending. He is gone. Dead,
      and she can join Christian in his misery. Perhaps they will see the
      green fairy.

      Jean is still crying, Tragic, tragic, the whole show is tragic.
      Satine is gone, Logan as well. Spectacular Spectacular is no longer
      such a thing. It now Tragic Tragic. Rogue stands, gently prying Mr.
      Horsy away from Jean, holding it close to her. Keeping the demons
      away.

      Lucifer is a sly beast, however. He will sneak up for the kill,
      keeping close to his enemies, never betraying who he is, until it is
      too late. Then he will sneak under skin, burning like coals and fire
      and all things that are never there and never were…

      But still, Marie is alone. She gently sways out of the room, letting
      Jean muss her bed and make it clammy. Just like her. Just like
      Marie. All of which are fading fast. She gives in to the undeniable
      comfort of numbness, I am alone, so alone.

      She murmurs things to the forest when she gets there, Dearie, you
      must be good so that Eurydice may go see Orpheus. You must lead her
      out of Hell. Or are you Hell?

      She sees the Fates in the trees, over a black cauldron, whispering
      things to the moon. One points up, and Marie follows her thin
      finger. Still clutching Mr. Horsy, his brown fur jammed up under her
      fingernails, she sees the moon.

      Falling into the mud, Marie gasps things; Logan… Why did you leave me
      for Eurydice? Must I go find Orpheus? Must we make another trip
      through Hell just to find you again? She stares into the bleached
      face of the moon, keeping her mouth open. Mud pours in, because she
      has turned over, or perhaps a Fate has come to seal her death. She
      chokes, mud sliding like snakes into her lungs, stopping everything.

      She notices that she's getting Mr. Horsy all muddy, Oh dear Mr.
      Horsy, will you be my steed into Hell? I'll give you a lump of sugar
      if do…

      She then thinks, I wonder is Jean is still a puddle? Has Scott or
      Ororo found her yet? Maybe Jubilee or Kitty. I do hope that they do
      not try to follow. I must keep my eyes on Orpheus, and never on
      Logan dear, never on Logan dear.
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