Rahne’s brow furrowed, an obvious look of worry crossing her face. Perhaps the fogginess was a side effect of whatever had happened to bring him back to life? She didn’t want to mention it, since he obviously didn’t quite remember. It would be best to cross that bridge later.
"I’ve had worse than someone puking on me, Mark, dinna worry." She laughed softly, shifting when he leaned against her as to make him more comfortable. "And ye can stop calling me ‘Miss Sinclair’. Rahne’ll do, I’m nae that much older than ye.” She thought for a moment, brushing some of his hair back without moving her hands too far from his ears. “Ye want me t’ sing for you um…alright. I’ll…” What did she know? “Er…Ally, Bally, Ally Bally Bee, sittin’ on yer mammy’s knee greetin’ for a wee baw-bee t’ buy some Coulter’s Candy…”
"Just because you’ve had worse, doesn’t mean I want to puke on you, Miss— Rahne." He laughed, but it stirred his headache again and so he just slumped against her further, resting his head against her chest. Her hands, plus the soft melody coming through his ears eased him up, and he let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you…please just keep doing that…for like, a minute or two?" He kept his voice a mumble, eyes closing to block out everything other than her voice. It was comforting and warm and it put his mind at rest. "If it’s not too much… to ask… "
"Well, no, not exactly." Santo shrugged. "After Quentin Quire came to the school the bastard messed stuff up so bad that it ended up cutting the X-men right down the middle. Cyke and Frost and a group of his followers went to live on Utopia, and Logan and a bunch of us stayed to rebuild the school. Long story short though, Cyke and Frost are running a ‘mutant revolution’ and the Avengers have them at the top of their hit list."
"So Surge, and Pixie and Cess and Vic and the old gang are all still here, Magik is with Cyke and Frost, Foley and Ford butted heads quite a bit before going their own ways."
Mark stayed quiet through the explanation, nodding occasionally before pulling a face. “Geeze, you die for a little bit and miss the beginning of a whole weird revolution. I guess I’m really going to have to get with the times… I bet the amount of relevant music I’ve missed is absolutely—” He frowned, though. He hadn’t tried using his powers, yet, and he’d definitely lost them before. He could remember that now, everything was kind of coming back to him. Maybe he didn’t want to talk about music, or think about it for a while.
"You mentioned Pixie, but what about Match, Trance, Wolf Cub… my old training team? Are they… around?"
I kinda live here now seeing as I got kicked out, killed and revived is probably a bit much to mention right now.
"Only sort of?" Mark laughs, rubbing at the back of his head, "You almost sound like you’re as confused as me, Kev, and that’s definitely saying something."
Once he’s safely on the bench, Rahne takes a step back, allowing herself a minute to take in his presence. He smells like her old student. Carries himself like her old student. Not any scent of blood or death on him… ”Ye’ve been wandering around…? So it’s just happenstance that ye ran into me…” She was glad for it, but there were so many unanswered questions.
Frowning, Rahne finally takes a seat next to him. ”If y’need to puke, do so. Do I need t’ get ye inside or maybe this will…” she reaches over and places her hands over his ears gently. It was a silly thought, but maybe it would give him a little relief.
"Yeah, pretty much. I get the feeling I hit my head or something, I mean… I can’t really remember a bunch of stuff. And even the stuff I’ve been doing recently… well. It’s a little bit fuzzy, I guess?" He sighs.
With a smile, DJ looks at Rahne, “I promise not to puke on you, that would be really rude and—” her hands over his ears suddenly cut out all the static, and for the first time in a while, Mark feels like he’s getting a little clarity back. He scoots closer to her, closing his eyes and leaning against her carefully. “Hey, Miss Sinclair…do you know any songs…could you maybe…”
"Here. Let me fix that." His black hand reached for Marls cheek, turning gold as he fixed the headache. "Never mind. I’m glad to see you."
DJ let out a sigh of relief, “Thanks, Foley. My head’s been killing me since…” Since…since when? Since he woke up this morning? Had he woken up this morning? That was kind of a good question. “…since er. Since when are you um… You don’t look like usual.”
"Not a training exercise. The Xavier Institute is gone, dude, I’m sorry." He paused and looked at him. "Can’t use your powers. Did you lose them on M-Day?"
"Wait, seriously…? The school is gone? " He put his head in his hands, trying to work through everything. His brain was foggy, he was lost, and apparently his school didn’t exist anymore. There was something tugging at him, something it felt like he should’ve remembered, but he just couldn’t reach it. "Er. What’s M-Day? It’s just that I can’t… uh. My powers don’t work unless I’m listening to music, and I don’t have my MP3 player or my headphones… so…"
"…Mark? What are you doing here?"
"Kevin! Man, you have no idea how good it is to see a familiar face… I uh. I don’t really know what I’m doing anywhere, really. I’m sort of… lost."
"Well, things happened…" Too many things to list or explain.
"…but you’re in Atlanta. Well a scrapyard in Atlanta."
"Geeze. I am lost." He laughed a little, but frowned, "what are you doing here…? Looking for stuff for that weird art-thing you do?"