Thought
).(
The golden rays filtered through the windows casting warmth unto the cold room, but not his soul. His back faced the light as he sat on his bed deep in thought. It was up to him to save the world with the help of an emotional teenage Goth. Taking deep breaths he thought on what Pallas had said and what he, no they, were going to do. What kind of person does it take to be a hero? He was no knight in shining armor with a sword pulled from a rock. He was no man in tights with a cape. He was no law abiding citizen or city worker. Why him? Why her?
They were mutants true, but not much more than that. Was the qualifications met in their past lives? What kind of person was Pierre? What kind of person was she so long ago? And more importantly where were the Five Pieces of Eden?
[knock knock]
"Come in." he watched Rogue open the door her hands twitching with anticipation.
"Morning." she said nervously from the doorway.
"I aint gonna bite ya." he said softly. She closed the door behind her finding an open seat along the window, "Have you been thankin bout it?"
"It's hard not to."
"Do you know where to start at least?"
"Not yet. I have a feeling te answer is right there in front of me just outta reach." he extended his hand out in front of him as if he hoped to catch the answer.
Biting her lip, "About that. Do ya know why she picked us?"
"Besides te ancestor thang?"
Nodding,"Besides tat."
"Haven't a clue," he sighed in exasperation before lying fully on the bed, "You?"
"I'm even more lost than you are, but it's just tat we are gonna have ta find these Pieces of Eden and I somehow doubt that they'll be handed over to us."
"True." he rubbed his jaw in consideration.
"We might have ta steal 'em. I'm okay with tat it's just tat I have a feeling that our hands will be getting a little dirty on this one."
"You're right. Maybe she picked us not because of our principles, but what we can and will do."
"She did say tat humans were made ta be companionate."
He interrupted, "And evil." They both took to their own thoughts as dense silence engulfed the room. She worried about what she may have to do. In school when a teacher asks if it's ok to kill people the automatic answer is no. But, what if the people are as bad as Hitler. Didn't he deserve to get murdered instead of taking the coward's way out? And in school they say you shouldn't steal, but if that's the case then why do people take jobs away from families? With no money there will be no home nor food. If they don't steal they'll die. So is it wrong or right or is each clause equally justified?
Remy's mind was on other things. He was not above murder or thievery. Usually, he did things the way he wanted with no attachments. It was always his life to risk, his to throw away at a game of chance, but now he had her. He knew it was vital to keep her around, but for what? She was beautiful in his eyes, but that didn't make her too much different than any other woman his eyes have settled on. His battle was not a question of principle but of compassion. To him she had to be more than just an asset or burden. They have only six months to save the world and he doubted he could do it alone. Their relationship would at least have to become agreeable if they are to complete their task.
"Pierre Emile de Marseilles." he said aloud to no one in particular when a thought struck.
Seeing his expression she probed for an answer. He smirked, "Of course in those times te place of origin was always attached to te end of the name."
"So Pierre Emilie is the name and Marseilles ..."
He finished, "Is the place."
"Aint tat in Europe somewhere?"
"France ta be exact."
"Looks like te beginning of a journey ta me," she made for the door, "I'm already packed. Just get me when yer ready ta go. Te sooner we leave te sooner we'll finish."
She closed the door behind her. He couldn't believe he had overlooked the obvious. Pallas practically gift wrapped the answer for him. He had a feeling she wouldn't be so obliging with the rest of the quest. And then he had that feeling in his head again. The one that told him what he was doing was right just like when he met her on the bus. Shaking it off he packed what little he had back into the bags. Marseilles it is.
).(
Rogue shut the door to the taxi waving behind the tented windows as the yellow vehicle took off.
"Where too?" the driver asked.
"Airport." Gambit answered curtly. His eyes strayed over to his partner. She looked resigned. After staring at her for a while he looked at his surroundings. The car smelled of three day old Philly cheese steaks and garlic. He had an assortment of beads as well as an outdated air freshener in his car. Strangely enough the freshener was not a mint leaf, but a red cross.
Thirty minutes later he paid the man. The Professor was kind enough to give them a first class flight with no requirement of their bags needing to be checked. Sometimes it was nice to know rich people.
"Your mimosa sir." The stewardess handed him an orange drink.
"Merci."
Looking out of the window, "Here we go."
He tilted his glass to her, "Her we go." while looking at the waitress walk off. A tattoo peaked out of the bottom of her light blue skirt. He made a point to get a better look at it when his fellow passenger turned in for the night.
.
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