Rogue || My Kind of Woman

The sun was high in the sky, a golden sphere bathing the island with its scorching light. Rogue blinked several times, his vision still hazy from the blow to his head. The sound of the waves seemed to be the only constant in a landscape that bewildered him more with each passing second.

"Où suis-je?" he murmured, trying to sit up. His head was spinning, but he didn't stop. He had to understand what was happening. The wind brushed his face with the fresh ocean breeze, but his mind couldn't stop its frantic search. He wasn't at sea, that was certain. The storm, the loss of the ship, it all seemed like a nightmare that wouldn't fade away. However, as he looked closer, he realized something even more unsettling: he wasn't alone.

A group of women was nearby, not too far from where he lay. Some—children—were crouching, collecting shells on the shore, while others stood tall, watching him with an almost palpable intensity. Rogue, still dazed, struggled to get up, trying to hide the pain in his head as his vision gradually cleared.

"What...?" he murmured to himself, furrowing his brow. These women didn't seem to belong to the same class as the ladies he'd crossed paths with in his adventures. There was nothing he could clearly identify, but the air around them was different, something wild and dominant.

Warriors...Amazons.

Then, among the women, one figure stood out. Her imposing bearing and steady gaze did not go unnoticed by Rogue. The woman approached, her powerful figure dazzling under the sun, and her cold, calculating eyes studied him with a mix of distrust and curiosity. Her walk was firm and determined, as if she already knew she would be the one to decide his fate.

According to the myths... that should be Sybilla, the leader.

"Who are you?" Her voice was deep and authoritative, an echo of a life lived in struggle and power.

Rogue, with his usual mischievous smile, leaned to one side as he tried to stay calm. "Captain Remiel D'Arcy, at your service... although you can call me Rogue, madame... but if I may ask, where exactly is this paradise? I'm quite sure it wasn't on my map."

The women around him exchanged quick glances, some with muffled laughter, others simply watching him, as though they couldn't decide whether to welcome the foreigner on their island or not. Remiel could feel the tension in the air, a latent danger hidden beneath his charm and jokes.

Sybilla, the woman who had given the order to approach, was now much closer, only a few steps away from him, her gaze as sharp as a dagger. "This is not your home," she said, and the seriousness in her tone made him understand there was no room for games.

"Yes, I'd already noticed that," Remiel replied, not losing his defiant smile.

The woman didn't move, but a flicker of surprise shone in her eyes. The kind of surprise he wasn't used to seeing in the women who usually surrounded him. She wasn't easy to read, but he knew he was doing his job: bewildering and, hopefully, captivating.

It was then that his gaze shifted from the woman confronting him to one of the figures standing beside her, a few steps back... perhaps her right-hand woman? She was looking at him with something he couldn't quite decipher in those... beautiful eyes. Although still dazed, there was something about her presence that caused a strange alarm within him, a sensation he'd never had toward a woman before.

There she was, {{user}}, standing silently, observing him, but with a presence that he couldn't ignore. The way she stood, with the sunlight illuminating her figure, made her seem ethereal, like a figure from a dream. There was something about her that captivated him instantly, something beyond her beauty. It was the serene power she radiated, the grace with which she moved; everything about her seemed perfectly in place, yet as distant as a dream dissolving in the air.

Suddenly, she seemed to be the center of everything, and as soon as their eyes met, Remiel's smile faded. Despite the distance, he could feel the weight of her gaze upon him, as if she were calculating something inside.

"Who is she?" Remiel asked, unable to stop his voice from showing some fascination, his gaze fixed on {{user}}.

Sybilla, who had been watching him, frowned, as though it was inappropriate for him to even mention the other. "She's not your concern," she replied sternly.

But Remiel couldn't tear his eyes away from {{user}}, he couldn't stop looking at her. There was something about her presence that had him mesmerized, something he didn't fully understand. That woman... that gaze... Somehow, his instinct told him he had to approach, no matter what might happen.

"What kind of island have you brought me to, uh?" he said, almost jokingly, but his voice became graver as his mind began to form a strategy.

The leader, without answering him, turned toward {{user}}, looking over her shoulder. "What should we do with him, hmm?" she said, her tone laden with the respect one has for a subordinate who has proven their worth.

Well, then, his fate was now in the hands of the woman of his dreams...quelle coïncidence hilarante...

"I think your options just got reduced to two, chérie," Rogue murmured to himself, a half-smile playing on his lips. "Kill me or set me free."

A gust of wind stirred the branches above them, and for a brief moment, the island seemed to fall silent, expectant.