It was good that he helped her undress, because the uniform was complex in construction, a number of zippers and seams placed to expose only certain parts of her skin while leaving the rest safely covered. The scientists had been pleased with its construction, and while she hated the article of clothing more than she'd hated most anything else in her life, it had been the safest thing to wear on Atlantis for the protection it offered those around her. Still, she'd gladly see it burn if she could find something else to wear.
She was nervous being so uncovered with him. Not for the lack of clothing or the danger that posed - they both knew how to be careful and lord knew he'd seen her naked before - but for the fact that he could see what had been done to her. The tattoo on her arm, her near-emaciated state, and wounds on her back from where they'd "harvested" strips of her skin, like a skin graft left unfinished. Those were the only marks remaining from her torture, though; everything they had done that left physical damage had been healed by forcing her to absorb one of the many mutants with healing factors who had been kept on site for that very purpose.
The heat felt nice but the water also stung at the raw, new skin on her back and she couldn't lean back against the edge of the tub. Her slight discomfort didn't temper her relief at his words in the slightest, she still smiled softly at the news. "I'm glad your war has ended," she told him in a hushed voice. "And that everything seems to have worked out for the best."
She was also glad the queen had taken the name Victoria. It was how Rogue had thought of her all these years, it would have been difficult to use any other name for her at this point. Reaching out, she took the sponge from him and slowly began to wash her torso, purposefully not looking at the tattoo as she scrubbed the sponge over it. M4827. Even if she wasn't looking at it, she could see it clearly in her mind.
no subject
She was nervous being so uncovered with him. Not for the lack of clothing or the danger that posed - they both knew how to be careful and lord knew he'd seen her naked before - but for the fact that he could see what had been done to her. The tattoo on her arm, her near-emaciated state, and wounds on her back from where they'd "harvested" strips of her skin, like a skin graft left unfinished. Those were the only marks remaining from her torture, though; everything they had done that left physical damage had been healed by forcing her to absorb one of the many mutants with healing factors who had been kept on site for that very purpose.
The heat felt nice but the water also stung at the raw, new skin on her back and she couldn't lean back against the edge of the tub. Her slight discomfort didn't temper her relief at his words in the slightest, she still smiled softly at the news. "I'm glad your war has ended," she told him in a hushed voice. "And that everything seems to have worked out for the best."
She was also glad the queen had taken the name Victoria. It was how Rogue had thought of her all these years, it would have been difficult to use any other name for her at this point. Reaching out, she took the sponge from him and slowly began to wash her torso, purposefully not looking at the tattoo as she scrubbed the sponge over it. M4827. Even if she wasn't looking at it, she could see it clearly in her mind.