Green meant life, the passion of nature, the promise of glorious, riotous life. Green meant lust, meant envy, meant hope. And being a Star Trek fan, it also meant blood! (A/N Remy is shown in his own comics to be a Trek fan!). Green meant Rogue; eyes full of life, passion and pain, so much like his own but so different. He didn't know if that difference; his frivolity, and his desire to take all the world in (stealing it if necessary) would be their undoing, or if it would be their similarities in pain, betrayal and the walls built over a lifetime of mistakes.
Remy knew he was a good thief, had always known it and had never asked for another life. He had also always known he was a mutant with eyes that inspired fear, and for the Thieves' Guild also inspired legends and prophecy.
Some legends he was proud to say he'd built for himself; glowing devil eyes could go a long way when teamed with athleticism and skill as a thief that few had ever matched. Some of the legends and prophecy brought him only pain; from beatings, from betrayal, from what it felt like to belong nowhere except as a useful tool for his 'masters'.
Remy was young and he was tired, too weary and full of sorrow for his years. He was great at fun and being a free-spirit but at heart he was weighed down by his losses, his betrayals; wondering where his innocence went, if he had ever truly been innocent. He couldn't remember ever being naïve, but he thought he remembered innocence.
Innocence felt like casting sparkles into the bayou to impress the green emeralds he had brought here.
He'd been watching her for 3 months now, longer really, because ever since he'd been assigned to Magneto's acolytes he'd been drawn to this girl more than he'd ever been drawn to another.
All this time, since the streets of N'awlins where she stopped being his 'captive' and became, for a brief time, his companion, all this time he'd been pondering the same question: could he risk trusting and being trusted? And if she could trust him, would he deserve it, or would he hurt her – and be hurt in return? And was it worth that pain anyway?
He was under no illusions; although the telepaths had trouble reading his mind and Rogue was unwilling to absorb him, he knew his secrets, his horrors and his Hell would eventually be revealed and he'd go from a little piece of Heaven back again to the purgatory that followed him everywhere.
Was it worth it? He didn't know but he knew he was no coward.
His moral fortitude came and went like the tides but it never stayed away, for too long. He could always guarantee he'd do something too shady for the good guys, but was too good to be a bad guy and he'd hate himself for it all, never one or the other, always in his own place.
Sometimes he genuinely believed he had been good once, and could be again, other times he knew all the bad he'd done would always catch up with him.
He wanted do know what it felt like to do right for once though, and wear a white hat, not having to question everything around him and not simply being forced into what he was doing. He wanted the choice he'd never really had; wanted no master but himself, wanted to see who he'd be if he could choose both the best and the worst, instead of always having to make the best of a raw deal, or tainting the good things in his life with his regrets and misdeeds.
God he was too young to be this messed up by life. He wanted his chance.
Green eyes that burned with passion and fire and melted his heart were the ace in the deck – she could choose her value, a ten or a one, and he'd win or lose based on her choices.
If Rogue wasn't there, one of the x-men, this would all have been easy. He'd have walked up to the door, eluded the security measures and charmed his way onto the team. But with Rogue there, if he gambled and lost, he didn't know if he could put his heart together again. With Rogue there he didn't know if the stakes were too high, for if he hurt her he could never turn back. But without Rogue the game might not be worth winning.
Merde but he wanted this. He'd never been so frightened in all his life.
Not when he was living on the streets before Jean Luc found him, not when he went through his tilling; his rite of passage into manhood and being accepted as a true thief, not when he went to his first tithing ceremony, not even when he first met the Pig and Etienne didn't come home, not even when he first realised how he'd have to repay his debt to Nathanial Essex.
This time not only did he have a choice to make things right, he also knew what he'd lose if it all went wrong.
Fils de putain, he was too young to feel this old.
Standing he took a card out of his pocket and charged it so it glowed slightly, lighting a glowing joker with magenta light. "Well, I guess that's settled."
French: Merde (pooh) Fils de Putain (son of a bitch)
