"It's been a long time, has it not?" a voice behind Remy asked.
Remy visibly jumped and turned around. He was standing within a dark alley, out of the way of the city's activities for a reason. He had made sure that no one else had taken residence in the dead-end alley to assure his privacy. He needed to come up with the rent to pay his landlord and the best way he could do that was by fixing an itch to boot. Waiting in the alley wasn't just for the hell of it, it was for a job. But no one could have snuck behind him.
"What?" Remy cried out as he scanned the dark environment for the source behind the voice. As soon as he saw his face, Remy's automatic defensive posture dropped and a scowl crossed his face. "Oui," he finally replied. He knew who he was talking to from the first word out of his mouth; it took his brain a moment of settling down to catch up with the moment. "An' could'a been longer. Di'n't t'ink I'd ever see you again," Remy said flatly. "You di'n't come for a social call. What is it you want? I already paid off all my debts." He knew telling Sinister that he was free was pointless, but he thought he might as well mention it anyway.
"Always straight to the point," Sinister smiled. Remy didn't flinch, but his insides crawled. He knew that he was waiting for someone to supply him a job, but he didn't expect that that person would be Sinister. A month or two out of the prison and still Remy couldn't get his life back together. He still couldn't find Chiyo or find any trace of Rogue.
Sinister straightened out his coat and smoothed the collar of his shirt. Remy eyed him wearily but knew better than to rush the man. His footsteps echoed in the alleyway as he approached the mutant, stopping much too closely for comfort. Remy pretended to hardly notice. "I have a job for you," he stated. "One that should prove entertaining in ways only you can be entertained."
"I'm listenin'," Remy replied as formally as he could muster. He needed the money, after all.
"New York has wonderful museums and one such museum is showcasing findings from Egypt. Among the artifacts is a scroll in a sandstone box. It's one of a kind so it should not be difficult to miss." Sinister smiled and clasped his hands behind his back. The look in his eyes told Remy that he was positive that he wouldn't back down from the challenge, but Remy had his doubts. "I'd like you to steal it and bring me the scroll, along with the sandstone box."
Remy should have expected such a thing from Sinister, but he was still surprised at the proposition. He'd been looking to start off small, not a job as large and public as this one. He still hadn't tried starting up his powers since getting out of the prison and he was too afraid to try now. Taking in a deep breath, he lowered his eyes, conflicted. He needed the money, and he needed to continue living independently, however, Remy was unconfident in his current abilities. When Remy looked back up at the tall dark-haired man, he wore a frown on his face. "I don' work for free." He hoped that there'd be enough money in the balance to act as an incentive.
"My boy, I don't expect you to work without recompense," he nearly laughed as much as the psychopathic man could. He didn't say much beyond that, leaving Remy to uncomfortably hang on the man's words.
Sinister relaxed his posture, but that didn't ease Remy's worries. "No threats, no exchanges. Just a simple business arrangement." Sure, Sinister could say such a thing. He didn't have another imprisonment on his head. "You choose your price. I'm willing to pay for the best, not settle for anything less."
Remy fell heavily on the wall behind him at the offer. Such a simple payment in words, but it meant so much more beyond that. Ideas whorled in his head, but nothing took root. Remy thought of all that he had to do yet, what he needed to get things done, and what Sinister could do to help him along. All Remy really wanted was his old life back, but he knew on a logical level that such a thing wasn't possible. Remy wanted a purpose again. Finding what was already lost was so improbable.
He felt the pent-up anger rise up within him, pushing aside any logical thoughts. Remy's treatment inside the prison hadn't been properly expressed. He rose back up from the wall, his posture tense. "Da only t'ing I want is t'ings t' go back da way dey were b'fore," he growled. He managed to keep the majority of the anger at bay, his voice level and steady. "But you can' do dat, can you? You one'a da most powerful men in da world an' you can't change da year dat everyone had in dat prison. Don' know how dis time so diff'rent from da last, but it changed e'ryone." Hardly in control of himself anymore, Remy grabbed Sinister from the coat he had so carefully straightened out not that long ago and pushed him into the wall. "You can' change dat, can you?" he cried out more loudly. "You can' put my life back da way it s'posed t' be!"
Sinister remained completely silent during Remy's outburst, but as soon as the Cajun closed his mouth, a wall of energy built up between the two of them and sent Remy back with impressive force. "Must we dance the same old dance again?" he sighed. Remy stumbled to regain his balance after being telekinetically pushed backwards, and when he finally straightened out he saw Sinister as composed as ever. The look in his eyes was more disturbed than usual and an unusual energy tangibly crackled in the air, but his posture remained calm. He appeared to be thinking things over, and Remy let him, breathing deeply to regain his poise.
He stepped closer to Remy, stopping within reach. He wasn't afraid of the petty mutant and he wasn't afraid to show it either. "No, I cannot take you back to before that time. I fear no one can. Though if you feel it would help, I could remove that time from your memory. Lock it away so that it doesn't plague you." He placed a hand on Remy's shoulder as if he was consoling the mutant. Remy forced himself not to cringe away from his touch. "Be assured there would be no debt along with it. But if that is your price, I can help you. Though I cannot take you back in body before that dark place, I can take you back in mind."
"Remove the memory?" Remy sneered. "An' dat supposed t' make everyt'in' better, or jus' Gambit?" He shook his head and brushed Sinister's hand off his shoulder. "T'ings gonna be diff'rent. I still have t' be changed wit' da time." Remy's anger faltered, making way for pain. His stance fell, his eyes dropped. "Dat can't work," he said softly. "Dat only gonna make t'ings worse."
"I helped you before and I will continue to be able to do so. This time is no different."
Remy waited for further words, unsure of how the exchange would go from there. Finally, Sinister spoke again. "There is a bright future on the horizon. We mutants finally have the chance to step above the rest and those like us – powerful, strong, and determined –" Remy almost snorted in derision "– stand to gain the most. Whatever has poisoned your mind has not affected your body."
Remy's immediate reaction to Sinister's words was not disgust, as it would have been in the past. He was confused as to how Sinister had not seen the way Remy carried himself or the scars marking his body all over. Most of all, he wasn't sure how he could still consider the Cajun any of the adjectives he listed.
He waved a hand dismissively, as if Remy's thoughts were unimportant. "It is best to change by choice. Change itself is inevitable."
"Best, but sometimes best ain't always an option. Most o' us deal wit' it, not take da easy way out." Remy didn't want his fingers fishing around his brain anymore. He couldn't forget what had happened to him.
"I gonna do your job. You gonna get that relic," he told Sinister firmly. He straightened his posture up and controlled his face. Sinister's intentions with the relic were probably none too good, but he'd much rather have Sinister in his debt that back out of the situation now. He still didn't know what he wanted in return, but he figured he'd figure that later as long as Sinister didn't choose for Remy.
A ghost of a smirk passed over Sinister's face, though nothing about the smile was positive. "I'll contact you," he told Remy.
Without relinquishing his control, Remy twisted his body, presenting his side to Sinister. While the man didn't have a nice name attached, he had never given Remy much reason to fear of unnecessary physical harm. The man tended to work on a psychological level. "Time frame?" Remy asked shortly. He waited for an answer, keeping Sinister just out of his range of sight, and received nothing. After a couple moments of silence, Remy finally looked around again to find the alley behind him completely empty. Sinister hadn't left Remy with a lot of information to work off of, but Remy knew he couldn't blow the job off.
"Oh, fun," Remy murmured.