Ok, the IMPORTANT SHIT chapters are now posted at the bottom of this page instead.
Loyal Readers, I present to you- The first re-written chapter of ISSUES!
(insert non-existent fans cheering here)
So, blah blah blah, don't own, legal crap, don't sue me I'm broke.
Dear god, why was he here again?
"Gambi', ole buddy ole pal, you sure do ge' youself inna all sor's a situat'ons," the wiry, brown haired man muttered to himself, pacing nervously up and down the length of the small room he'd been directed to.
He was here, pacing, inside this small room, waiting for... whats-his-name.
Towd- Toad- no, that wasn't right...
Todd.
Yeah.
So, he was here, pacing, inside this small room, waiting for Todd, the froggy kid- Toad was his code name, wasn't it-?
Well, yeah. Waiting for Todd. Waiting for Mystique and Todd.
How the hell did he get himself into this again...?
Oh yeah, he couldn't keep his mouth shut.
He really had to work on that...
So. Waiting for Mystique and Todd, 'cause he couldn't keep his mouth shut. Yeah.
He turned, pacing some more, hands gripping opposing elbows behind his back.
Well, if he thought about it, it wasn't really his mouth's fault. After all, Remy LeBeau may be a villain, but he was no child-killer.
Which, if he'd been reading Mystique's angry snarls and the whole 'hands-wrapped-around-the-throat' thing right, was what he would have turned into if he'd stayed silent. At least by association.
So, being the... good bad-guy, as much as that was possible, he'd, of course, stepped in to make sure Mystique didn't kill the kid.
Which is how he ended up in this situation. Here. Pacing, inside the small room, waiting for Mystique and Todd.
So he could take the kid home with him.
Mon Dieu, Sabretooth was gonna kill him.
He paced, and paced, and paced some more, slowly becoming more and more worried that Mystique had gone ahead and killed the kid anyway- until the door flew open and one of the skinniest, scrawniest kids he'd ever seen was shoved through, catching a shoulder on the door frame and tumbling to the floor.
Ouch.
"Get up," Mystique hissed, stalking into the room after the kid, glaring at him like the little one was scum on her shoe.
He felt himself bristling a little, careful to keep it internal. He didn't want to give Mystique any more reason to be pissed, not with the kid still in the room.
So he watched, seemingly uncaring, as the kid staggered to his feet obediently, one spindly hand coming up to wrap around the injured shoulder.
"Gambit, this is your new charge. Get him out of my sight before I decide to kill him."
He brushed auburn hair out of his eyes, sighing as the blue-skinned woman whirled around and stomped out of the room.
"Mytsie dear'st mus'a forgo'n t' take a nap t'day," he singsonged under his breath, shaking his head, "I ha' no idea wha' Monsieur Bucket-Head was t'inkin', makin' her secon'."
He walked around, making sure he was in the kid's direct line of sight the entire time, pointing towards the door that let to the outside world.
"C'mon, petit granuille, come wit' Gambi'-"
"I'm not a dog, yo," Todd muttered, following behind him quietly but for that one remark.
'Reflective shades do come in handy,' Gambit thought to himself, eying the kid with said items. Todd was shivering, walking slowly, blinking slowly, like he was tired. He whirled around, thrusting an arm out to catch the kid as he stumbled.
"Did you no' bring a jack't?" he asked, staring at the kid oddly. It was cold, snowing, and the temp. hadn't been over 30 in the past two weeks.
"Dun' have one."
He was starting to think that the abuse went beyond physical. Because, no matter what Mystique believed, or even what the kid believed, what the blue-skinned bitch was doing was abuse.
And abuse, well...
Abuse was one thing he couldn't stand.
He stared at the shivering, skinny, scrawny kid and wondered how Mystique could possibly have found a reason to hurt him. Shaking his head, he shrugged of his overcoat, holding it out.
Todd looked at him, the jacket, and back again, not reaching for the offered item of clothing. Instead, the kid eyed him distrustfully, and then the jacket, and back again.
"Sr'sly?" He raised an eyebrow, shaking the offered jacket a little, "Gambi' di'n booby-trap a damn jack't. I's no' gonna kill you- i' fac', no' puttin' i' on'll prolly kill you fast'er."
The spindly hand stretched forward, hesitantly, tense and ready to jerk back at the slightest threatening movement. When none came, the jacket was snatched from his hand with lightning speed and wrapped equally fast around the shivering form.
"D'ere we go," he smiled, trying to put the kid at ease, "See? No 'arm done."
"...Thanks."
He led the kid to his car, this time walking beside Todd, noticing that, even with the jacket, the kid still shivered near violently.
"Col', petit?"
He nearly cooed as the little child glared at him, snickering a little at how... adorable it made him look. Really.
"Yesss, I'm cold," he hissed through clenched teeth as another violent shudder wracked his frame, "I'm friggin' cold-blooded, I get cold if the temp drops below sixty, yo."
Ooh, ouch. That had to be inconvenient, especially living upstate, where snow was common.
"Gambi's car be havin' a heat'r," he placated, pointing out said car- his beautiful, beautiful baby...
"Yippee, yo. I'm not gonna freeze to death."
He snorted, rolling his eyes at the deadpan reply.
"Such a happy li'l chil' you are, ar'nt you?" he shook his head, twirling the keys to his baby around a finger, "You b' gettin' along wit' Johnny jus' fine."
Todd stopped short for a moment, and had to jog a few steps to catch back up.
"J-Johnny?" he choked.
"You b' livin' wit' de Acolytes now, petit," he answered, "Dat b' Gambi', Pyro, Sabbs, Colossus, an' somet'imes Mast'rmind. Dat b' a prollem?"
The kid visibly steeled himself, hiding momentary fear behind a neutral mask. He was good, that was for sure. Remy knew grown men who'd been in the Thieves' Guild for most of their lives that still didn't have that sort of control over their expressions. It made him wonder a bit about how the kid had gotten that good... and why.
"Are your buddies the kind of people that like to beat the crap out of kids?"
He thought about stopping, properly addressing the fear, but figured getting to the heated car would help more- for both of them- in the long run.
"List'n t' Gambi'," he said seriously, not stopping but doing what he could to ease the distrust and tension, "No one is gonna hur' you. No' when you're wit' de Acolytes. No one."
The kid obviously didn't believe him, but he wasn't expecting miracles. It was very likely that, even when it appeared the kid was comfortable, trusting, he wouldn't be. It would take a while for Todd to open up, and depending on just what he was working with here, it was entirely possible that the kid just... wouldn't.
"Johnny migh' take a bite outta you, t'ough," he smirked, laughing out loud at the nonplussed expression.
He stopped in front of his car, dropped his keys, picked them up again, dropped them, and then finally got them into the lock, popping open the other doors at the same time.
"Hop in."
He cranked the heater up on the highest setting, making sure the vents on Todd's side were flipped open.
Although, if he were to be honest with himself, it wasn't all for Todd's benefit. Living in the Louisiana Bayous most of his life hadn't exactly built up his own cold tolerance...
"Eh, Gambi' jus' b' jokin' wit'chu, petit. He won' get'chu, an' if he tries, Gambi' 'll jus' hit 'im wit' de spray bottle. Gambi' promise on 'is Cajun honor."
"Yeah, what's left of it."
He laughed again, pleasantly surprised. From what he'd heard, the Brotherhood Boys were all stupid delinquents, and Todd the worst of them all. What he'd seen in the scant five minutes in the child's presence, however, said the opposite.
Todd was shy, skittish, but seemed to be quite intelligent, if the scathing wit was anything to go by. Also, it was a good sign that the kid was willing to joke around with him, even if it was just to take pokes at his dubious reputation. It was a sign of trust, at least, that the kid didn't think he'd take a swing because of a little joke.
"Why're you- why're you acting weird, yo?"
Observant, too, and comfortable enough to ask questions.
"A'tin' 'weird'?" he asked, pretending to be a little confused.
"You're... well, you're not beatin' the crap outta me, and that's pretty weird, for starters," the kid muttered, eying him warily, "Also you're... I dunno, different, yo. Mellow?"
He smiled at the kid, carefully backing out and into the main road.
"All o' us- all de Acolytes- act diff'ren' 'round Mystique. We 'ave t' act like ass-kissin' sycophants 'round 'er, de bitch."
Todd stared at him from underneath ragged bangs, and he made a mental note to add a haircut to the shopping trip they were going to have to make.
"So you guys are like the Brotherhood?" the kid questioned, a little hesitantly.
"Prolly," he replied, weaving in and out of traffic, "We really don' act anyt'ing like we do 'round her."
Pausing to swerve around less-in-control driver, he continued, "Take Toothy, f'r 'xample."
"Toothy?" Todd asked, bemused.
"Sabretooth," he clarified with a grin, "'E's really a big, softy. Likes to f'ckin' cuddle."
With a full body shudder, Todd shook his head.
"Dude- dude, just no. That is waaaay to creepy."
"Mmyep. An' d'en d'ere's jolly ol' Gambi', who always sees de brigh' side of life- a horrible optimist, Gambi' is. Johnny-boy is- well, no' much change d'ere. 'E's still crazy as crazy. Iron Gian', who can still hardly speak English, and Mister Mind, who changes faces as of'en as most people change d'eir shirts!"
"Why do you hide from her, yo?"
"Jus' easier," he answered, scowling a little, "If we don', she t'rows a hissy fi', an no one wan's t' hear dat, petit. Mon Deiu, dat femme can shriek."
Todd laughed a little, and seemed to relax, leaning back against the comfortable leather seats. Apparently, warmth and good humour did wonders for suspicious little children.
"Well, we hide 'cause we don't really gotta choice, yo. She's a bitch, and the Brotherhood would rather not let her know what we're really capable of."
He was stared at, warily. He could practically feel the kid debating with himself on what to say. This, he knew, was a test. If anything Todd said ended up leaving his mouth, well, any and all trust he'd garnered with the kid would go flying right out the window.
And the kid would probably leave with it.
"Lance can do a lot more than just shake things up, and Pietro's not half as self-centered and stupid as he pretends to be, yo," Todd said in a nonchalant tone, though Remy knew the release of information was anything but.
"Wha' 'bout you, petit?"
"You do know what my name is, right?" the kid asked, looking at him with an eyebrow raised, obviously trying to change the subject.
"A'course Gambi' does," he replied with a laugh, playing along for now, turning the car into a narrow driveway and putting it in park, "Toddy-Frog. Gambi' woul' like t' welcome you t' Chateau de Acolytes."
He decided to shelve the personal questions for now. He was sure the kid wouldn't like him prying, and he could always wait until Todd was a little more trusting to start delving into the kid's past.
"Dude- duuuude!"
The kid scrambled out of the car and stared up at the decent sized house in awe, dropping his guarded, wary mask for a moment.
"No holes, no peeling paint, no odd shaped mouldy spots, no broken windows..."
Todd flung out his skinny arms, gesturing wildly towards the house.
"And it's not a cheezy, cliched evil mansion, either! Look! No clouds, no lighting or thunder, wow, this is a nice place you got, yo!"
Gambit just shook his head at the other's enthusiasm, taking the kid by the shoulder (noting the flinch he got at the action) and leading him into the house. He wasn't sure just where that outburst had come from, but hey, if Todd felt comfortable acting like a kid around him, who was he to complain? It just seemed... almost a little sudden.
"You an Johhny-boy'll ge' along jus' fine, now," he sighed. Oh boy, another Johnny... He could barely keep up with one!
"I'll be gettin' along with who, now?"
He tightened his grip slightly as the kid jumped, smiling at the nervous look he got.
"John, perf'ct timin'. Johnny-boy, dis b' Toddy-Frog. Toddy-Frog, dis b' Johnny, or Pyro as you prolly know 'im."
He watched as the tall, skinny man reached out a slightly burnt and bandaged hand, smiling widely.
"Hey, there, mate. Name's St. John, but John and Johnny are fine. What's yer name? 'M pretty sure it ain't really Toddy-Frog."
Todd shook the other man's hand hesitantly, and let go as fast as possible, shaking his head.
"'M name's Todd, but ev'rbody calls me Toad."
"Well hi, Todd! Hey, Rem, where's he gonna kip?"
"In the room next to ours," he threw over his shoulder as he headed towards the kitchen, reaching into the fridge to pull out the fish he'd bought for dinner only to meet with empty fridge space.
Ohhh, whoever took his fish was definitely going to pay...
Yeah. So, opinions? Comparisons? Do you like this one better, or the old one? Any tips, any spelling errors, any opinions you'd like to offer this starving almost-college student?
And yes, I am doing the one thing I promised never to do and begging for feedback. Hell, I don't even care of you just want to tell me you hate it, go ahead. I'll appreciate it anyways.
Ok, on to the important shit.
This story was written... freaking years ago, man. It sucks. Bad. There are grammatical mistakes, spelling, continuity issues that come from stop-starting for three years, problems with tense (which I still have XD) and problems with 1st-2nd-3rd-person shit.
So I've decided to rewrite it. I'm sorry for you people that were crazy enough to enjoy this piece of shit, but it really, really needs to be done.
Also, I'm gonna try to explain things a little better XD
OK, IMPORANT!
Two things.
1. Gambit's accent. Should I make it less pronounced/more pronounced/ get rid of it period? Is it too hard to read with/ weird to read without?
2. 1st/3rd person. Readers, is it easier for you to read it first or third person? Which do you like better?
I'm asking for your opinions because I honestly would like to know how to make this story better, for your reading pleasure.