~any similarities this has to any places of business in Louisiana are
simply coincidence. I have never been to New Orleans * NOTE * I HAVE NEVER
BEEN TO NEW ORLEANS. So don't kill me . . . ye'h swamp rats. (
~Henri is blonde.
~Side stories back at the Xmansion have been put into for enjoyment . . .
mainly . . .MINE, so naturally I don't really give a fuck if you don't like
'em.
Fauve
Part 4.
Gotchya
Aimée wiped a line of sweat off her brow, reaching for her coat noticing the dark stains under her arms. She lived all her life in Westchester and unlike her southern parents; she had zero tolerance for the heat wave viciously attacking the bayous of Louisiana. She had to get out of traffic, the city girl didn't know the south got that busy, but there she was on her motorcycle . . . sandwiched between two rigs just after local noon. Finally the traffic let up, and a cool breeze whipped up from the speed of her hog. She had been on a mission, and continuous visions had led her straight to Louisiana, she had seen enough episodes of the Real World, New Orleans, to know that this is where her visions took place. And lucky for her, they had stopped as soon as she crossed the state line . . . visions are a pain in the ass. Now that she was finally in N.O. she needed some nice, air- conditioned facilities. Aimée looked up at the nearest hotel and smiled, ready to crash until later.
----------------------------------------3 hours
Her head popped up in a flash, it was still partially light outside, that meant she hadn't slept the whole day away. Aimée had trouble falling asleep on the fancy hotel bed, but as soon as she did, she was out cold. She had ridden all night, straight after her vision, and the trip from New York to New Orleans was not a short one. Aimée glanced at her clock, it was eight, 'jeez does the sun ever set around here?' She rolled out of bed and attempted to pull on a pair of leather pants, but was gripped by a vision and flung onto the bed.
~*
"Belladonna Boudreaux and Remy LeBeau, I know join you as one, and pronounce you as husband and wife!" A withered priest stood atop of a glorious altar, sending the happy couple down the aisle. Aimée stood in the aisle, leaning on one of the church benches. By now she had grown used to the visions and made herself comfortable during them. Remy lifted his beautiful bride, her flowing white train still cascading over the steps. She smiled wide at him as they walked down the aisle, their family and friends cheering and crying. They walked out the door, and Aimée basked in the warm smile on her father's face. The happy couple strutted out to the car, running from the rice being thrown and laughing as they entered the vintage town car. The door shut, and he was gone. Aimée turned around, wondering why she was still there, her father had left what more was there to see? Her vision leaped to two men who had approached each other, getting away from the mass crowd. One wore a ponytail and a mustache, he was an attractive older man; the other was just as handsome, but younger and a blonde. She walked over to them, listening in on the conversation. It was in French.
The blonde started, but he was cut off.
The blonde man spun on his heel and walked away from his abashed father. Stranger to Aimée, however, than the conversation . . . was the fact that she understood it.
~*
"So apparently I am now bilingual, great, that's just fucking great" Aimée quipped, rubbing her temples and pulling up her leathers. The only name she got out of that one, besides her father's, was Belladonna Boudreaux. Maybe SHE could tell Aimée what she wanted to know.
-----------------------------------------
"Jean" Scott reached out and grabbed her arm.
"Stuff it Scott! I'm with Logan now." She shrugged him off, furious that he would even try to pull that "we need to talk" bullshit on her.
"Oh and Jake? Are you just going to leave him? Leave me? For a fling with that wolf man!"
"Scott, I'm a woman, I have needs too! And I am sick and tired of putting your needs before mine. I am a woman! A woman! Not Mrs. Jean Summers, I am Jean fucking Grey! And all I wanted was a little respect."
"Oh and Logan, the man with no past . . . who very well is half beast! He? He's going to be a better father to our son?"
"Jacob will be just fine!" "My ass he wi-"
"Jean? Scott? We need to have a meeting in the conference room" The professor wheeled in and interrupted them. Jean smiled politely at the professor, looking Scott dead in the eye as she blew back a stray hair.
"Oh and Scott . . . he's a much better lover" She huffed into his ear, sauntering away in a very un-Jean Grey manner. The professor looked half amused as he stared a beet red Scott down.
"It's the phoenix professor, the rise of Mr. Sinister is affecting all of us" Scott furiously rubbed his temples, half trying to convince himself.
----------------------------------------
"She doesn't even think about all of the possible consequences!" O'Rya Munroe shook out her long black hair and readjusted her position atop her boyfriend, Aaron Beamers. "I mean her mother is in a coma, and where does she go? She disappears looking for some loser guy who dumped her mother 20 years ago."
"18" O'Rya looked up from her silver polished nails at her boyfriend, who had decided to speak. "What?"
"18 years, he left her 18 years ago, well 12 if you think about when she was five . . ." He readjusted so that she had to get off of him.
"Well aren't we up on the LeBeau family history?" She said sarcastically, looking into his honey-colored eyes. When he didn't respond, she went on her rant again "Whatever, it doesn't matter, I just personally think that it was a major bitch thing to do."
"I think it was admirable"
O'Rya shot up again, looking deeper into his eyes. "Admirable?"
"Yeah I mean, well, we don't know the whole story, and I'm pretty sure that Aimée wouldn't leave without good reason, especially with her mother in a coma. Maybe this Gambit guy, her father, is really in trouble." O'Rya sat dumbstruck; she was annoyed at Aaron's sudden burst of empathy for Aimée.
"So . . . my mother's gone, did I tell you?"
-----------------------------------------
"Belladonna Boudreaux." Aimée smiled at the bartender, dropping a hundred on the table. "Who, What, and Where?" The bartender smiled, showing yellow teeth and emitting a cigar smoker's breath.
"Ye'h got a lotta' balls comin' in he'h askin' bout people like that, little lady, for another hundred ah'll give ye'h an address, but that's all ye'h gettin'."
"Fuck that" She snarled, pulling the wet bill from his sticky fingers, and heading towards the door. A man grabbed her arm, he seemed vaguely familiar, but with her temper she couldn't place a name with the face. His blonde locks were tied tight in a ponytail, and he had a slight beard of blonde hairs. He had a young face, but Aimée estimated him to be at least 45.
"What do ye'h want wit Belladonna?"
"Watch it old boy', I wouldn't try anything if I were you." He released her, and let her go. Aimée stormed out of the old pub, she did not notice her open pocket. The man laughed and flipped open a red vinyl wallet, but he found no ID right away, only some cash and a few photographs. One of these pictures looked more warn then the others. He pulled it out and sprayed his drink everywhere out of shock, he was looking into the eyes of his brother. "Remy?" he sputtered as he closed up the wallet and ran for the door, his cell dialing his father's number automatically.
-----------------------------------------
It was getting late, and none of the pubs would tell her anything. She began to have a feeling that Belladonna, and possibly her father, were into some very illegal businesses. At the 5th pub a man grabbed her arm. "I kno' that name sounds damn familiar, belongs te'h one a'h dem guilds, thieves guild . . . ? Yes, dat's it, t'ieves guild." Aimée recoiled from the slimy man, but paid him her thanks as she walked to the door. What the hell was the Thieves guild? She felt her body stiffen once more, and feared another vision, but instead she got a force. A feeling that seemingly took over her entire body. Aimée's eyes locked on to her bike, and she hopped out, willed in the right direction.
-----------------------------------------
"I found him, he's just outside of Seattle, staying with a friend. He is racing around though, and it is hard to keep a lock on. His Psionic shield is more powerful than I ever imagined, I fear that he is in grave danger. I sense pain, and fear. Jean?" Jean looked over to the professor.
"I have a lock on her professor, she's in Louisiana, paying a visit to some of the LeBeau clan."
"So she's gallivanting with thieves? Professor I must suggest intervening, she is way off target and this could mean Rogues life." "No Scott, she needs to do this on her own, or we very well may loose contact all together."
"What about Sinister?" Logan asked from his corner of the room.
"Well-"
"What about Storm?" Night crawler suddenly appeared out of the shadows, looking worried.
"She's . . ."
------------------------------------
Aimée landed in the 3rd floor bedroom a little louder then she would have liked, but at least she was finally inside the gorgeous mansion. She had gotten there but the next problem was getting inside. The dogs, the gates, this place was like the white house. When she finally opted for climbing the stonewall, she did not expect it to be so difficult, but eventually made it upstairs. Aimée dusted off her pants, taking off her shades, so she could see in the dim lighting. The lights suddenly flashed on, causing Aimée to flinch slightly. She heard the 'click' of a gun preparing to fire, behind her. A heavily accented voice rang out.
"Gotchya." She did as she was told, her fiery eyes matching that, of . . . Jean Luc LeBeau's.
--------------------------------------
Ororro Munroe huffed in disdain from her perch outside the LeBeau mansion. Aimée did not have the skills of her father. Storm set down her binoculars, knowing Jean Luc would not kill the girl. She couldn't help but the first time she met the man, but thoughts like that always brought her back to Remy . . . and his smile.
~Booyah Baby!
-Foo
Fauve
Part 4.
Gotchya
Aimée wiped a line of sweat off her brow, reaching for her coat noticing the dark stains under her arms. She lived all her life in Westchester and unlike her southern parents; she had zero tolerance for the heat wave viciously attacking the bayous of Louisiana. She had to get out of traffic, the city girl didn't know the south got that busy, but there she was on her motorcycle . . . sandwiched between two rigs just after local noon. Finally the traffic let up, and a cool breeze whipped up from the speed of her hog. She had been on a mission, and continuous visions had led her straight to Louisiana, she had seen enough episodes of the Real World, New Orleans, to know that this is where her visions took place. And lucky for her, they had stopped as soon as she crossed the state line . . . visions are a pain in the ass. Now that she was finally in N.O. she needed some nice, air- conditioned facilities. Aimée looked up at the nearest hotel and smiled, ready to crash until later.
----------------------------------------3 hours
Her head popped up in a flash, it was still partially light outside, that meant she hadn't slept the whole day away. Aimée had trouble falling asleep on the fancy hotel bed, but as soon as she did, she was out cold. She had ridden all night, straight after her vision, and the trip from New York to New Orleans was not a short one. Aimée glanced at her clock, it was eight, 'jeez does the sun ever set around here?' She rolled out of bed and attempted to pull on a pair of leather pants, but was gripped by a vision and flung onto the bed.
~*
"Belladonna Boudreaux and Remy LeBeau, I know join you as one, and pronounce you as husband and wife!" A withered priest stood atop of a glorious altar, sending the happy couple down the aisle. Aimée stood in the aisle, leaning on one of the church benches. By now she had grown used to the visions and made herself comfortable during them. Remy lifted his beautiful bride, her flowing white train still cascading over the steps. She smiled wide at him as they walked down the aisle, their family and friends cheering and crying. They walked out the door, and Aimée basked in the warm smile on her father's face. The happy couple strutted out to the car, running from the rice being thrown and laughing as they entered the vintage town car. The door shut, and he was gone. Aimée turned around, wondering why she was still there, her father had left what more was there to see? Her vision leaped to two men who had approached each other, getting away from the mass crowd. One wore a ponytail and a mustache, he was an attractive older man; the other was just as handsome, but younger and a blonde. She walked over to them, listening in on the conversation. It was in French.
The blonde started, but he was cut off.
The blonde man spun on his heel and walked away from his abashed father. Stranger to Aimée, however, than the conversation . . . was the fact that she understood it.
~*
"So apparently I am now bilingual, great, that's just fucking great" Aimée quipped, rubbing her temples and pulling up her leathers. The only name she got out of that one, besides her father's, was Belladonna Boudreaux. Maybe SHE could tell Aimée what she wanted to know.
-----------------------------------------
"Jean" Scott reached out and grabbed her arm.
"Stuff it Scott! I'm with Logan now." She shrugged him off, furious that he would even try to pull that "we need to talk" bullshit on her.
"Oh and Jake? Are you just going to leave him? Leave me? For a fling with that wolf man!"
"Scott, I'm a woman, I have needs too! And I am sick and tired of putting your needs before mine. I am a woman! A woman! Not Mrs. Jean Summers, I am Jean fucking Grey! And all I wanted was a little respect."
"Oh and Logan, the man with no past . . . who very well is half beast! He? He's going to be a better father to our son?"
"Jacob will be just fine!" "My ass he wi-"
"Jean? Scott? We need to have a meeting in the conference room" The professor wheeled in and interrupted them. Jean smiled politely at the professor, looking Scott dead in the eye as she blew back a stray hair.
"Oh and Scott . . . he's a much better lover" She huffed into his ear, sauntering away in a very un-Jean Grey manner. The professor looked half amused as he stared a beet red Scott down.
"It's the phoenix professor, the rise of Mr. Sinister is affecting all of us" Scott furiously rubbed his temples, half trying to convince himself.
----------------------------------------
"She doesn't even think about all of the possible consequences!" O'Rya Munroe shook out her long black hair and readjusted her position atop her boyfriend, Aaron Beamers. "I mean her mother is in a coma, and where does she go? She disappears looking for some loser guy who dumped her mother 20 years ago."
"18" O'Rya looked up from her silver polished nails at her boyfriend, who had decided to speak. "What?"
"18 years, he left her 18 years ago, well 12 if you think about when she was five . . ." He readjusted so that she had to get off of him.
"Well aren't we up on the LeBeau family history?" She said sarcastically, looking into his honey-colored eyes. When he didn't respond, she went on her rant again "Whatever, it doesn't matter, I just personally think that it was a major bitch thing to do."
"I think it was admirable"
O'Rya shot up again, looking deeper into his eyes. "Admirable?"
"Yeah I mean, well, we don't know the whole story, and I'm pretty sure that Aimée wouldn't leave without good reason, especially with her mother in a coma. Maybe this Gambit guy, her father, is really in trouble." O'Rya sat dumbstruck; she was annoyed at Aaron's sudden burst of empathy for Aimée.
"So . . . my mother's gone, did I tell you?"
-----------------------------------------
"Belladonna Boudreaux." Aimée smiled at the bartender, dropping a hundred on the table. "Who, What, and Where?" The bartender smiled, showing yellow teeth and emitting a cigar smoker's breath.
"Ye'h got a lotta' balls comin' in he'h askin' bout people like that, little lady, for another hundred ah'll give ye'h an address, but that's all ye'h gettin'."
"Fuck that" She snarled, pulling the wet bill from his sticky fingers, and heading towards the door. A man grabbed her arm, he seemed vaguely familiar, but with her temper she couldn't place a name with the face. His blonde locks were tied tight in a ponytail, and he had a slight beard of blonde hairs. He had a young face, but Aimée estimated him to be at least 45.
"What do ye'h want wit Belladonna?"
"Watch it old boy', I wouldn't try anything if I were you." He released her, and let her go. Aimée stormed out of the old pub, she did not notice her open pocket. The man laughed and flipped open a red vinyl wallet, but he found no ID right away, only some cash and a few photographs. One of these pictures looked more warn then the others. He pulled it out and sprayed his drink everywhere out of shock, he was looking into the eyes of his brother. "Remy?" he sputtered as he closed up the wallet and ran for the door, his cell dialing his father's number automatically.
-----------------------------------------
It was getting late, and none of the pubs would tell her anything. She began to have a feeling that Belladonna, and possibly her father, were into some very illegal businesses. At the 5th pub a man grabbed her arm. "I kno' that name sounds damn familiar, belongs te'h one a'h dem guilds, thieves guild . . . ? Yes, dat's it, t'ieves guild." Aimée recoiled from the slimy man, but paid him her thanks as she walked to the door. What the hell was the Thieves guild? She felt her body stiffen once more, and feared another vision, but instead she got a force. A feeling that seemingly took over her entire body. Aimée's eyes locked on to her bike, and she hopped out, willed in the right direction.
-----------------------------------------
"I found him, he's just outside of Seattle, staying with a friend. He is racing around though, and it is hard to keep a lock on. His Psionic shield is more powerful than I ever imagined, I fear that he is in grave danger. I sense pain, and fear. Jean?" Jean looked over to the professor.
"I have a lock on her professor, she's in Louisiana, paying a visit to some of the LeBeau clan."
"So she's gallivanting with thieves? Professor I must suggest intervening, she is way off target and this could mean Rogues life." "No Scott, she needs to do this on her own, or we very well may loose contact all together."
"What about Sinister?" Logan asked from his corner of the room.
"Well-"
"What about Storm?" Night crawler suddenly appeared out of the shadows, looking worried.
"She's . . ."
------------------------------------
Aimée landed in the 3rd floor bedroom a little louder then she would have liked, but at least she was finally inside the gorgeous mansion. She had gotten there but the next problem was getting inside. The dogs, the gates, this place was like the white house. When she finally opted for climbing the stonewall, she did not expect it to be so difficult, but eventually made it upstairs. Aimée dusted off her pants, taking off her shades, so she could see in the dim lighting. The lights suddenly flashed on, causing Aimée to flinch slightly. She heard the 'click' of a gun preparing to fire, behind her. A heavily accented voice rang out.
"Gotchya." She did as she was told, her fiery eyes matching that, of . . . Jean Luc LeBeau's.
--------------------------------------
Ororro Munroe huffed in disdain from her perch outside the LeBeau mansion. Aimée did not have the skills of her father. Storm set down her binoculars, knowing Jean Luc would not kill the girl. She couldn't help but the first time she met the man, but thoughts like that always brought her back to Remy . . . and his smile.
~Booyah Baby!
-Foo