Summary: A young man comes to the Institute in hopes of learning more about
his powers - but he doesn't speak English. The lucky Gambit is assigned to
teach it to him - but in the process the two find friendship - and perhaps
more...
Author notes, etc.: This chapter is pre-slash. It may develop more later. Mostly, I'll be concentrating on character building for the first few chapters. I have no idea for any sort of plot other than a romance, but I'm good at making those interesting, so it shouldn't be too crappy. I need a Beta reader! (especially one who will prod me into writing more. This muse has bitten me twice now though so perhaps this fic might go somwhere. Adrienne is all mine. Mine, mine, mine, and based off of another character of mine.
IF you don't like slash and will flame me if you read it, well, by all means, go ahead. Flames are funny as all hells and I could use the laugh. Rated for potential language, hopefully I'll have cause to up it later.
Language Barriers
The young man stepped into the front hall of the mansion, intense violet eyes darting nervously around in an attempt to gauge the place. His obscenely long lavender hair twirled around itself, resembling a pair of anxious hands twisting their fingers together in its movements. He patted the prehensile stuff and took another step or two deeper into the unknown.
"Can I help you?" inquired a softly solicitous voice.
The boy jumped a literal foot in the air, turning to face Jean Grey - although he had no idea who she was - in utter confusion. "Euh... excusez- moi, je ne parle pas d'anglais... mais..." He trailed off at the half- amused, half-bemused look on her face. "I can't understand a word you're saying either, so perhaps we'd better find someone to translate..." she said, more to herself than to the boy who didn't look any more than sixteen.
Remy could you help me out in the entrance hall? We've got a visitor who appears to know French, but not English. I need a translator... she sent to the X-Men's resident Cajun. She got a slightly fuzzy sense of acknowledgement and a hint of 'coming', so she turned to the boy and smiled, trying to get him to relax.
In the meantime, Adrienne - for that was the boy's name - had been looking at Jean, and the hall, and trying to calm down a bit. J'ai pense' c'etait d'etre plus dur fait ce... His hair relaxed somewhat as his agitation died down at the friendly demeanor of the woman he'd run into and stopped trying to tie itself in knots. He'd seen the quick flash of jealously - nearly every woman he ran into drooled over his amazingly long and thick hair (until they found out it was alive, of course) - and Jean Grey was not immune. She'd recovered quickly, though. His sister had constantly bemoaned that such beautiful hair had gone to a boy, even if his famille was slightly frightened by its unnatural color. It had only grown worse as he reached puberty and it started responding physically to his emotions and seeming alive. That was when he'd run away, some three or four years ago. The streets of Paris weren't kind to a pretty young boy but his hair had kept him out of many situation that most people would have succumbed to - yet its existence was the cause of most of them, so he wasn't too sure of its being a gift or a curse. Most likely both, as his dear sister Anna had always believed. His double-edged mop, she'd called it, and it set them to giggles many times as children.
His thoughts were pulled back to where he was now when Remy LeBeau walked into the room, grinning easily at first Jean, then Adrienne. "Bonjour, monsieur," he said, with a Cajun accent and N'awlins inflection. Adrienne smiled delightedly upon hearing something he could understand, even if its pronunciation had been Louisianaized. "Oh merci Dieu, tu me comprends...J'ai viens ici parce que je ne suis pas normalement, tu peux vois ca, et j'ai entendu c'ecole eu quoi j'ai eu besoin de..." And the boy went off on a spiel of rapid French that had Jean's head spinning and Remy's ears being extremely confused. "Whoa, cher, calm down. Dis Cajun, he don' know de mere francais dat fast." Adrienne stopped, looking a bit hurt. "You jus' come wit' Remy and you be speakin' de good ol' anglais by de end of de week. Get ya in a coupla' classes, ye be fittin' right in."
Adrienne nodded slighty, not quite understanding, but trusting the red head with the eyes like puddles of blood - dried and black on the edges and red and flowing in the center - and the pretty woman with the nice smile and rather liking this whole place. He started to think that perhaps coming here hadn't been such a bad idea as he'd been afriad of. His hair was mostly still now, having relaxed much more. He was smiling slightly when Gambit took his upper arm and steered him down a hallway, rambling on about 'le Proffeseur' who would certainly welcome him into the Institute. It had turned out pretty good, at least for now...
~in Professor Xavier's office~
Chrome Dome Charles was very interested in Adrienne's mutation and was not at all opposed to enrolling him in the school. With a soon-confused Remy as translator, all the papers were filled out and schedules arranged for starting in several weeks - after he got a basic understanding of the English language. Adrienne was trying to control his rapid speech so that the handsome ou est CA pensiette viens de?!? Cajun could understand him - mostly. It was arranged that most of his teaching would be taken care of by Remy, who would show him around a bit. Remy told Xavier that he wasn't a babysitter, but his vote was quickly vetoed with a quirked brow by the Prof. The Cajun sighed and muttered mutinously under his breath.
Adrienne saw this, and knowing when he wasn't wanted, spoke. "Je ne veux pas etre un problem, Monsieur LeBeau. Je peux trouve ma chambre est mes classes et les fois comme ca seulement. Je regrette."
Remy looked up at the boy, who had his face hidden amongst all his hair that was now hanging limp like a kicked puppy and sighed. "Non, tu viens avec moi. C'est pas un problem."
"Vraiment?" The boy's purple eyes glowed with fledgling hope under his now- twitching bangs.
"Oui." Remy grinned back at the smile that lit the boy's face like the sun breaking through a cloud. He was a sweet looking kid when he wasn't depressed. Hol' on jus' a secon' dere, Cajun. What in de Nine Hells you be t'inkin'? What 'bout Rogue?
A tiny voice from the back of his mind piped up. ~She drained you an' lef' you ta die... do you haf'ta be tol' twice?~
He sighed softly to himself, then realized the boy was still smiling at him. "Come on den, 'Drienne... hey dat rhymed!" Adrienne nodded uncertainly, not quite sure of the meaning of the man's words, but willing to learn. Remy LeBeau... he though to himself. Oui, c'est vrai. Il est beau.
The Professor smiled slightly as he watched them wander from his office. They'd be good friends for each other. God knew Remy needed someone unprejudiced about him (and wasn't it convenient that the boy wouldn't be able to understand any bad talk about him until he formed his own opinion of the man) and the boy - Adrienne, wasn't it? - certainly had needed someone to help him get onto his feet here. Not to mention the sheer possibilities with the child's ankle-length hair.
He nodded to himself. Doing good felt good, even if the recipients would smack you if they knew your motives for your actions. He grinned to himself. Yes, they'd be good for each other...
"I have work to do... enough of solving personal problems for now." And with that he turned back to the papers he'd been grading when the two had entered his office, a faint remnant of his smile still etched on his face.
end chap 1
(translations of the french)
Euh... excusez-moi, je ne parle pas d'anglais... mais... Uh... excuse me, I don't speak English... but...
J'ai pense' c'etait d'etre plus dur fait ce... I thought it would have been harder than this...
Bonjour, monsieur Good day, sir
Oh merci Dieu, tu me comprends...J'ai viens ici parce que je ne suis pas normalement, tu peux vois ca, et j'ai entendu c'ecole eu quoi j'ai eu besoin de... Oh thank God, you understand me... I came here because I'm not normal, you can see that, and I heard this school had what I needed...
Ou est CA pensiette viens de?!? Where did THAT thought come from?
Je ne veux pas etre un problem, Monsieur LeBeau. Je peux trouve ma chambre est mes classes et les fois comme ca seulement. Je regrette. I don't want to be a problem, Mr. LeBeau. I can find my room and classes and things like that alone. I'm sorry.
Non, tu viens avec moi. C'est pas un problem. No, you come with me. It's not a problem.
Vraiment? Truly?/Really?
Oui. Yes.
Oui, c'est vrai. Il est beau. Yes, it's true. He is beautiful.
the real end!
Author notes, etc.: This chapter is pre-slash. It may develop more later. Mostly, I'll be concentrating on character building for the first few chapters. I have no idea for any sort of plot other than a romance, but I'm good at making those interesting, so it shouldn't be too crappy. I need a Beta reader! (especially one who will prod me into writing more. This muse has bitten me twice now though so perhaps this fic might go somwhere. Adrienne is all mine. Mine, mine, mine, and based off of another character of mine.
IF you don't like slash and will flame me if you read it, well, by all means, go ahead. Flames are funny as all hells and I could use the laugh. Rated for potential language, hopefully I'll have cause to up it later.
Language Barriers
The young man stepped into the front hall of the mansion, intense violet eyes darting nervously around in an attempt to gauge the place. His obscenely long lavender hair twirled around itself, resembling a pair of anxious hands twisting their fingers together in its movements. He patted the prehensile stuff and took another step or two deeper into the unknown.
"Can I help you?" inquired a softly solicitous voice.
The boy jumped a literal foot in the air, turning to face Jean Grey - although he had no idea who she was - in utter confusion. "Euh... excusez- moi, je ne parle pas d'anglais... mais..." He trailed off at the half- amused, half-bemused look on her face. "I can't understand a word you're saying either, so perhaps we'd better find someone to translate..." she said, more to herself than to the boy who didn't look any more than sixteen.
Remy could you help me out in the entrance hall? We've got a visitor who appears to know French, but not English. I need a translator... she sent to the X-Men's resident Cajun. She got a slightly fuzzy sense of acknowledgement and a hint of 'coming', so she turned to the boy and smiled, trying to get him to relax.
In the meantime, Adrienne - for that was the boy's name - had been looking at Jean, and the hall, and trying to calm down a bit. J'ai pense' c'etait d'etre plus dur fait ce... His hair relaxed somewhat as his agitation died down at the friendly demeanor of the woman he'd run into and stopped trying to tie itself in knots. He'd seen the quick flash of jealously - nearly every woman he ran into drooled over his amazingly long and thick hair (until they found out it was alive, of course) - and Jean Grey was not immune. She'd recovered quickly, though. His sister had constantly bemoaned that such beautiful hair had gone to a boy, even if his famille was slightly frightened by its unnatural color. It had only grown worse as he reached puberty and it started responding physically to his emotions and seeming alive. That was when he'd run away, some three or four years ago. The streets of Paris weren't kind to a pretty young boy but his hair had kept him out of many situation that most people would have succumbed to - yet its existence was the cause of most of them, so he wasn't too sure of its being a gift or a curse. Most likely both, as his dear sister Anna had always believed. His double-edged mop, she'd called it, and it set them to giggles many times as children.
His thoughts were pulled back to where he was now when Remy LeBeau walked into the room, grinning easily at first Jean, then Adrienne. "Bonjour, monsieur," he said, with a Cajun accent and N'awlins inflection. Adrienne smiled delightedly upon hearing something he could understand, even if its pronunciation had been Louisianaized. "Oh merci Dieu, tu me comprends...J'ai viens ici parce que je ne suis pas normalement, tu peux vois ca, et j'ai entendu c'ecole eu quoi j'ai eu besoin de..." And the boy went off on a spiel of rapid French that had Jean's head spinning and Remy's ears being extremely confused. "Whoa, cher, calm down. Dis Cajun, he don' know de mere francais dat fast." Adrienne stopped, looking a bit hurt. "You jus' come wit' Remy and you be speakin' de good ol' anglais by de end of de week. Get ya in a coupla' classes, ye be fittin' right in."
Adrienne nodded slighty, not quite understanding, but trusting the red head with the eyes like puddles of blood - dried and black on the edges and red and flowing in the center - and the pretty woman with the nice smile and rather liking this whole place. He started to think that perhaps coming here hadn't been such a bad idea as he'd been afriad of. His hair was mostly still now, having relaxed much more. He was smiling slightly when Gambit took his upper arm and steered him down a hallway, rambling on about 'le Proffeseur' who would certainly welcome him into the Institute. It had turned out pretty good, at least for now...
~in Professor Xavier's office~
Chrome Dome Charles was very interested in Adrienne's mutation and was not at all opposed to enrolling him in the school. With a soon-confused Remy as translator, all the papers were filled out and schedules arranged for starting in several weeks - after he got a basic understanding of the English language. Adrienne was trying to control his rapid speech so that the handsome ou est CA pensiette viens de?!? Cajun could understand him - mostly. It was arranged that most of his teaching would be taken care of by Remy, who would show him around a bit. Remy told Xavier that he wasn't a babysitter, but his vote was quickly vetoed with a quirked brow by the Prof. The Cajun sighed and muttered mutinously under his breath.
Adrienne saw this, and knowing when he wasn't wanted, spoke. "Je ne veux pas etre un problem, Monsieur LeBeau. Je peux trouve ma chambre est mes classes et les fois comme ca seulement. Je regrette."
Remy looked up at the boy, who had his face hidden amongst all his hair that was now hanging limp like a kicked puppy and sighed. "Non, tu viens avec moi. C'est pas un problem."
"Vraiment?" The boy's purple eyes glowed with fledgling hope under his now- twitching bangs.
"Oui." Remy grinned back at the smile that lit the boy's face like the sun breaking through a cloud. He was a sweet looking kid when he wasn't depressed. Hol' on jus' a secon' dere, Cajun. What in de Nine Hells you be t'inkin'? What 'bout Rogue?
A tiny voice from the back of his mind piped up. ~She drained you an' lef' you ta die... do you haf'ta be tol' twice?~
He sighed softly to himself, then realized the boy was still smiling at him. "Come on den, 'Drienne... hey dat rhymed!" Adrienne nodded uncertainly, not quite sure of the meaning of the man's words, but willing to learn. Remy LeBeau... he though to himself. Oui, c'est vrai. Il est beau.
The Professor smiled slightly as he watched them wander from his office. They'd be good friends for each other. God knew Remy needed someone unprejudiced about him (and wasn't it convenient that the boy wouldn't be able to understand any bad talk about him until he formed his own opinion of the man) and the boy - Adrienne, wasn't it? - certainly had needed someone to help him get onto his feet here. Not to mention the sheer possibilities with the child's ankle-length hair.
He nodded to himself. Doing good felt good, even if the recipients would smack you if they knew your motives for your actions. He grinned to himself. Yes, they'd be good for each other...
"I have work to do... enough of solving personal problems for now." And with that he turned back to the papers he'd been grading when the two had entered his office, a faint remnant of his smile still etched on his face.
end chap 1
(translations of the french)
Euh... excusez-moi, je ne parle pas d'anglais... mais... Uh... excuse me, I don't speak English... but...
J'ai pense' c'etait d'etre plus dur fait ce... I thought it would have been harder than this...
Bonjour, monsieur Good day, sir
Oh merci Dieu, tu me comprends...J'ai viens ici parce que je ne suis pas normalement, tu peux vois ca, et j'ai entendu c'ecole eu quoi j'ai eu besoin de... Oh thank God, you understand me... I came here because I'm not normal, you can see that, and I heard this school had what I needed...
Ou est CA pensiette viens de?!? Where did THAT thought come from?
Je ne veux pas etre un problem, Monsieur LeBeau. Je peux trouve ma chambre est mes classes et les fois comme ca seulement. Je regrette. I don't want to be a problem, Mr. LeBeau. I can find my room and classes and things like that alone. I'm sorry.
Non, tu viens avec moi. C'est pas un problem. No, you come with me. It's not a problem.
Vraiment? Truly?/Really?
Oui. Yes.
Oui, c'est vrai. Il est beau. Yes, it's true. He is beautiful.
the real end!