Okay, extra long because I might not update until 11/28.
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Day in de Life
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"Let me get this straight. You actually want ta introduce me ta some people in this city." Rogue's voice was incredulous. "I thought you hated New Orlean's guts."
He led her through a busy street. There were colors all around and she wondered what the special occasion was. "If'n you mean de Thieves' Guild is N'Awlins' guts, den yes, I do. But I love everyt'ing else, from her pretty little head to her gorgeous soul. Dese people ain' thieves, Chere. Dey t'ink I'm just Remy, de player. Don't ruin it for me."
She looked him in the eye and gave him a look that would sour milk from three hundred yards. "Define player." He blinked, a little scared. He had good right to be. She was wearing clothes she didn't like for the third time and was very cranky because of it. She had explained to her husband earlier that it would be the final time, even if she had to wear his hide come morning.
"Card player, of course, ma Petite."
"I thought so. Are we meetin' them for breakfast?"
Remy nodded and they finished the walk in silence. His arm slipped around her waist at some point and she wondered at it. It was strange, but she didn't immediately struggle against him. With Martin as her new sensei, she could probably toss him into a wall, but she didn't. After a moment, she winced when Martin revealed that he had, in fact, thrown Remy into several walls over the years. They stepped into a busy café. To the side, a clamoring went up. "Remy!" nearly two dozen voices shouted with joy.
Rogue rubbed the ear closest to the large group. "Yow."
He smiled and bent down to whisper in her other, less deafened ear. "Just be glad this ain't de whole gang."
She looked at him as they traveled towards the mountain of people. "There's more?"
A man that Rogue thought was of Grecian descent passed by them with a fell into a chair. He turned to face the couple with hearty laugh. "Remy! Where you been, boy? We thought you died or somethin'. Who's the pretty lady?" His eyebrows rose suggestively and Rogue blushed, cursing Remy for her lack of concealing make-up.
Remy laughed. "Dis is Rogue, Tom. She's a good friend of Remy's." Pulling down his shades, he repeated, "A real good friend." All male flirtation in the assembled crowd ceased and every jaw dropped open.
A tiny girl with blue and lavender hair sitting in the corner broke the silence with a laugh. "Remy tied do-own! Remy tied do-own!" Her voice had a faint English accent that Rogue found endearing in a preschooler. The girl started giggling and nearly fell off her chair. Her waist length hair turned a bright cherry red. The color traveled down from the roots, following a glitter of white light. It was Rogue's turn to open her mouth and forget to close it again.
Remy laughed and pushed it shut for her. "They like us, Chere." He raised his eyebrows at the people in front of them. "An' what's wit' de surprise? Ain't Remy allowed to go serious wit' a fille?"
"No!" a booming chorus answered.
Rogue quirked an eyebrow at her husband and he chuckled uneasily. "Card player, huh," she said darkly before snatching the shades of his face.
"Hey!"
Remy's gang erupted in laughter as she danced away from his playful lunges. The rest of the restaurant ignored them, apparently all too used to the group's antics. It was probably a good thing since Remy's two glowing eyes were visible to the world. Rogue finally allowed Remy to regain his respectability somewhat by handing back the shades.
The group shifted a bit to let them have seats next to each other. They laughed almost every second. Many of them managed to have five different conversations at once at a rate Rogue had thought was impossible to hold one. The strange and unique people were very kind to her and let her in on all the inside jokes.
For example: an hour into breakfast, Rogue asked, "What's so funny, that he's old enough to be Emmy's father?"
Hannah Laura -the mother of the hair color changing girl Rogue learned was Caleigh- explained it for her. "What we're saying is that Allen, this big lump of flub..." She elbowed the flat muscular stomach of the middle aged Allen. "...looks old enough to be Emmy's..." She gestured to a young teenager who held herself regally. "....father. Emmy is a…have you read Anne Rice?"
"Yeah…" Was the girl a vampire? Emmy had a deep tan, but anything seemed possible in the motley collection of people.
"Tale of the Body Thief?"
"Oh, you mean she takes over other people's bodies."
"Yeah, but I'm sill in residence," Emmy retorted. Her posture changed to that of a sassy punk. "Fact, I'm the landlord. If I evict her, out she goes. My terminal cancer'll come back, but she'll be gone. Who knows, maybe when I'm forty, the docs can cure cancer an' we'll say g'bye. 'Till then, friends and family put up with my split personality. I'm Kelly by the way, she's Amelia. Emmy's a compromise between the two of us." Kelly went back to her omelet. Her voice grew smooth and rich, "Eat the vegetables, Kelly." Kelly looked to the mirror on the wall and stuck out her tongue.
"Will not. Will too. Will not. Will too. Will…"
"Anyway," Hannah Laura near shouted over the escalating one person argument. "Ameilia's older than most nations. She's one of the early mutants."
"Mutants?" asked Rogue with her mouth full.
"Yes, that's what we are: people with different DNA from normal people. Anyway, when I say someone looks old enough to be Emmy's parent, I mean that person looks too damn old. Hear that Allen? Get some sleep!"
Allen looked up, and wiped away the oatmeal his baby had thrown in his face. He stood up from his chair and snapped his fingers. With a little pop, Caleigh's mother was suddenly in the empty chair. She glared up at him. "You are a sadist."
"I'm desperate," he replied without a hitch. Taking the empty seat to Rogue's right, he smiled. "Hello Caleigh." The little rainbow child smiled back and tossed her hair, which had turned a smarting shade of orange with sky blue polka dots. Allen's baby giggled and threw oatmeal into Hannah Laura's open mouth. Since the infant girl was using her mind to throw stuff about, her aim was dead center. Hannah Laura swallowed. "Bleagh! No wonder Mary won't eat this, it tastes like shit."
An elderly man clapped his hands over the sides of Mary's head. "Virgin ears!" The young mother rolled her eyes and began adding every kind of sweetener the table had to the gruel. Putting the finished concoction in front of Mary, she smiled, "Knock yourself out, Kid." The spoon dug into the oatmeal by itself and floated into the air to feed the delighted Mary. Hannah Laura dragged Allen out of her original chair and sat back down between Rogue and her daughter.
Rogue thought her eyes were going to pop out. She looked to her left and asked Remy, "How come they don't notice anythin'?" She gestured to the rest of the restaurant, who went on with breakfast as if nothing was happening. "Don't they care?"
"Oh, dey would, Chere. Dey just can't see dis half of de café. It's too hard for Remy to explain. Ask Merin -dat fille over dere- sometime. Maybe you'll understand it better den ole Remy."
It took a minute for Rogue to find the person her husband had mentioned and Merin still had to wave. 'How am I ever goin' to learn all these people, an' this is only half tha normal mornin' crowd. I'm so tempted just ta touch one an' know just like that.' She couldn't believe her thoughts and scrubbed her brain clean.
She hadn't noticed a boy who had looked up sharply at her when she thought that cruel idea. However, Remy had.
*What you t'inking, Jimboy?* The prince pushed the thought towards the only person in his Mutant family who knew his secret.
The boy looked at him with wise twinkling eyes. Those eyes seemed better suited to an eighty year old, but they somehow worked on the boy who had just turned eight. *Oh, just a few things, nothing really. You know...all the answers to all those impossible questions. Meaning of life, location of the Holy Grain and the Arc of the Covenant, what women want...*
*I got de answer to dat one. De wimmen want me.*
*Bighead.*
*Pipsqueak. What you really t'inking?*
*That girl, she's got some set of morals, but she's tempted to do terrible things. Don't let her lose her ethics, Prince of Thieves. If those morals crack, you'll have to decide whether you love her more than the world itself or not. Because you'll have to let me kill her or kill me before I can finish her off. If she breaks and someone doesn't stop her, she'll drain this world dead.*
*Get out, Jimmie. Before I kill you right...* Remy's head grew fuzzy.
*Sorry, Bighead.*
A moment later Remy shook his head and smiled at the boy. *Sorry, Jimboy. What were we talkin' about?*
He smiled. *You'll remember if and when the right situation comes up.*
*You and your riddles. You worse den Grandmama Lilly. Always spoutin' off prophecies dat you take to mean twenty different things. An' you still don't see it comin' until it hits you on de head.*
*Speaking of prophecies, is Rogue the one, the Thief of Spirits?*
*Yes. She ran into Grandmama's tomb terrified of somethin'. Got her out right quick.*
*Well, that's lucky. What was that, three nights ago?*
*Yes, how you know dat?*
*Just an educated guess. Lilly's mausoleum crashed down round about ten thirty that night. Like I said, it was a lucky thing.*
Remy looked at the boy sharply. There was something sad about his mental voice. *Are you holdin' somthin' back from me...*
*Sorry again, Bighead.*
Again Remy shook his head and entered a conversation, taking Tom's side that motorcycles rode circles around sport cars. Jimmie looked at him sadly.
'Yes, I am holding something back, Remy,' he thought to no one but himself. A girl nearly died under that rubble. Checked in her mind in the hospital. There was some fine shielding work on her and I couldn't see it clear as I would like, but she had gone in there to hide. Like you said, Lilly's prophecies were never simple.
"Remy, when tha belle runs to my grave ta hide, take her away, drag her if yah have to. She's like us, like myself. Nevah let her go. She belongs ta you. But don't you ferget you belong ta her, Remy LeBeau! Have her, hold her, be her Guardian Devil. You're all tha Belle has, Remy. Yer task is to make tha thief that steals spirit believe it!"
'Those were the exact words, right? I don't think Lilly was still in her right mind when she told you that, Remy. It's all mixed up: too repetitive, too many "she"s. Far as I can tell, there were three females in that tomb in the same ten minutes: Rogue, Katherine, and Mystique –if I read that girl's mind right. Lilly was trying to tell you about three females, not just one.'
Jimmie settled into his chair to think. He liked riddles and fixing up Lilly's last prophecy might actually be a challenge. 'Rogue is obviously the belle. She's the only girl that resembles a Southerner in the bunch. She's also the thief that steals spirit, but it sounds too vague for me to be absolutely sure.
'Have her, hold her... also sounds like Rogue, them being married. She's the only one of the three that wouldn't be able to take off the necklace so that's got to be her. Mystique would turn into a snake and slither out and Katherine would just do that ghost thing and let it fall to the ground.
'This Katherine seems be the protection part of the prophecy. ...runs to my grave ta hide... that seems to fit the bill, but she didn't run, she swam. She was the only one that went there to hide on purpose though.
'...take her away, drag her if yah have to... Lilly told Remy to take away a "her" twice, so I assume she wanted Remy to save both girls.
'Be her Guardian Devil... That's probably meant for Katherine too. The other two don't seem to need much protecting, but that girl is vulnerable.
'And then this Mystique, the mysterious assassin from yesteryear. Runs to my grave is for her alone. Rogue popped in with a sulfur cloud and Katherine came in from the ground. That woman ran in, on all fours, but she ran in. Other than that, I can't think of anything for her. The rest of the lines are too vague to pin to one female. What part does she play in this? What the Hell was Lilly getting at?
'I guess I'll just have to wait and see, hope I can steer them in the right direction.'
Jimmie stood up and claimed he had to go. He was the first to leave, but they all eventually filtered out, leaving money littered all over the table. The staff had long learned to deal with their strange customers. Always keep half the restaurant for them, never actually say how much they owe, and clean up whatever strange mess they left. When the money was counted up, the group had always overpaid and left a generous tip to boot.
Rogue and Remy left somewhere in the middle of the departures. They went shopping and Remy had it sent to
the apartment. They walked home and in
the massive garage, he declared he had to do some task alone. Rogue had to go on without him.
"You know your way back from here?"
"Yes, Remy," she said in a singsong voice, acting like a six-year-old. She turned and waved goodbye with a bright smile before walking into the LeBeau Labyrinth, as she liked to think of it. Out of sight, Rogue dropped the smile. It had been for Remy alone and she saw no reason to waste it on Knave's hierarchy. She walked through the halls confidently, like she had grown up traversing them. Technically she had, thanks to Martin, but the world hardly knew that. Only her husband knew she could absorb memories. She wanted it to stay that way as long as possible, meaning to her grave somewhere in the 22nd century.
As to why Remy knew, Rogue had started speaking German on the road. It had confused both of them to no end. Rogue looked through her memories and found an image of herself looking in a mirror. The reflection was of the blue demon that had attacked her that night. He talked to someone out of sight in German.
Remy had demanded an answer from Rogue over and over for two hours. Eventually, she just relented and told him her theory that she absorbed people's memories and asked sweetly if he wanted to test the theory. The man had quickly steered the conversation to Cajun food.
"Ich bin kein Dämon," a voice whispered. "Ich bin ein Junge!" Rogue didn't look around the corridor to find the speaker; it had come from within. She slowed her pace and silently demanded, *Who are yeh? I know you're tha blue monster that attacked me.*
There was a sardonic laugh. *Me attack you? Don't make me laugh. Wait, too late. You attacked me. I am ze one who took a dirt nap. I am ze one who woke up und found himself in you, Mädchen. Am I still alive outside of you?*
Rogue didn't lose her mask of utter serenity, but her inner voice grew a little twisted. *Unfortunately, yes. Far as I can tell, you're just a copy. You're not even real. So shut up and let me live mah life.*
*You call zat a life? It is a billion dollar film with a B-movie plot. Zhere's cool effects und exciting action scenes, but zhere's no depth. Why do you stay hier? Zis Remy has cool friends, but look at ze family business. Why are you so resigned to fate?*
*I don't really have a choice, Blue Boy.*
*Ah, so ve agree I am not a Dämon but a Junge now.* There was a hint of humor in his dark attitude.
*Shut up, and it's not like I have a choice. There is this silver collar...*
*It's not silver. It's adamantine, unbreakable stuff made from fallen stars.*
The necklace felt heavy on her neck. An unbreakable marriage tie...why did that sound like something only a LeBeau would think of? *And you know that how?* she demanded of the captive mind.
*Mädchen, at home I am nearly sliced in two by adamantine blades every day. It is hardly something you can forget.*
*Some home.*
*You have no idea. Back on topic, why do you put up with zis?*
It gave Rogue a start. In the beginning, she had been willing to kill Remy to get away. Why had she given into her new, terrifying and exotic life so quickly? *I can't go home...*
He cut her off. *Zhat's hardly a good reason. He kidnapped...ahead of you.*
*I see it.*
Rogue did see it. Knave LeBeau and entourage blocked her path. His voice rand down the hall as she walked steadily closer. "We were never properly introduced...Rogue, is it?" It was the first time she had heard the King speak with her own ears. His voice held no accent, which surprised her lightly.
She went as close as she could without being forced to crane her neck to look him in the eye. She smiled, giving the expression no hidden meaning. "I thought we were introduced quite well." Rogue couldn't help but hint at her absorption of Martin's memories. "I learned a great deal about you in our short meeting."
She put aside her own accent as well to sound more intelligent. Speaking like a Southerner wasn't entirely natural for her anyway. Originally from the Midwest, a place that some joked had the "no-accent" accent, Rogue had only come to Mississippi when she was four. She had adopted the accent of her "Aunt" Irene, but it occasionally went away when she was angry. Standing next to the Bastard, she was very angry.
"If you will excuse me. I wish to return to my apartment."
"No, I'm afraid we really must have a talk." A burly man walked to her left side and pointed a gun at her head.
The girl smiled sadly, shaking her head slightly. "I disagree." Using the memories of Martin the bodyguard-who was absent from the King's men, she made her move. Her hand shot out and grabbed the gun, dragging the gunslinger's arm forward. At the same time she locked her leg around both of his and yanked them backwards. She wasn't big or strong enough to pull the large man down with either move, but the two together brought him to the floor. His grip on the gun loosened slightly and she tugged it out of his grasp. Twirling it around deftly to hold it in the correct way to shoot with, she aimed the deadly little thing at the King.
Three other guns were instantly trained on her head. The furry boy in her head was right, her life was a movie. Rogue didn't look smug or say anything, but let the gun talk. The Martin part of her was impatient; he was trigger happy. It was hard to hold the gun steady while he demanded she shoot. Suddenly, something in her shoved the man aside and a ghostly hand held the firearm steady for her. *Go ahead an' get yerself outta this,* a familiar voice said.
*Matt?*
*Yes, we'll talk latah, just finish this.*
Rogue stopped and thought about the situation. If she did kill Knave, there was a large probability that his men wouldn't shoot her back. He wasn't loved at all and there was the necklace's protection on her side. Martin assured her the protection promise that came with it was very well enforced.
She wouldn't actually shoot him though. Remy wouldn't be able to fill the man's shoes without destroying himself. None of the party around her knew that little fact, however. Rogue would use that to her advantage.
None of her possible killers stood close enough for her to disarm them like their idiot predecessor, who had slunk away behind the line of men. On the flip side, none of them could snatch away her borrowed gun. And if she was shot, there would be a civil war between traditionalists and those loyal to the King. Knave was no fool. He knew all of that. He also underestimated females to a point way past idiocy. It was to get him killed one day.
She smiled at him once more. It wasn't a cruel or a sweet smile; it was a little pitying twitch of the lips. "Are you so insecure that you must attempt to control your son through his wife? Are you truly so timid that you must take four bodyguards simply to talk with your daughter-in law? Are you such a thickheaded fool that I must give you more than two examples to get the point across?"
His face became the picture of rage but she was unfazed. Knave didn't hold a candle to Gambit's fiery glare. "Now if y'all will excuse me, Ah need mah beauty sleep," she finished flippantly in a flawless imitation of a brainless Southern belle. Rogue walked right through their blockade. She tossed the gun to the man she had taken it from. "Y'all take care now."
An image of Blue Boy in full cheerleader attire chanting, "Give me an R! Give me an O..." appeared in her head. Her delighted laughter echoed through the hall. It gave just the right finishing touch to her encounter with Knave. He fumed and stormed off. Matt and the fur ball were rolling on the floor with mirth, figuratively speaking. Even Martin gave a low chuckle. Also, she thought she heard a faint yapping that sounded something like a gleeful puppy.
*Mein apologies, Rogue. Ze movie of your life is Super.* The image of the cheerleader disappeared and he sat in an otherwise empty movie theater with about forty pounds of movie snacks. *I have popcorn, let's do something else exciting. It's cool being in your head. No school, all the imaginary food I can eat...zis is ze life.*
Her metal voice dripped with innocence. *You resigned yourself to tha situation quick.*
*Oh shut up.* The picture changed again and he was wreathed in flames and sulfurous smoke. He bared fangs very much like a tiger's and began cursing in German.
She turned on an industrial strength fan and blew away the smoke and mirrors. Amid the shattering of imagined glass, she growled through clenched teeth, *Shut up yourself. You're not as bad as ole Knave back there, but Gambit still holds tha record for most terrifyin' death glare. Why am I okay with this situation? I'm not, but I'm locked ta Remy, just like yer stuck in me. I'm just making tha best of things, same as you. You liked it when I kicked Knave's ass. I enjoyed meeting Hannah Laura an' her little girl.* Rogue stopped and thought for a moment. The fur ball had made her laugh without sorrow lying underneath. It was the first time she had been able to do that since Matt. Before Matt, it had been a long, sad decade. She smiled and said to all of them, even Martin and the dog she wasn't quite sure really existed, *I'm makin' tha best of all of you too. Least it won't be lonely up here anymore.*
*I'm Kurt Wagner, the Nightcrawler.*
*I prefer Blue Boy.* She threw a pail of bright blue paint over him to prove her words. An all out paint war erupted between Rogue and the two boys while Martin sat in an old rocking chair on some sort of old-fashioned porch, absently scratching a silvery dog's ears. There was a spring to her step as she went back the apartment. Rogue thought of her strange breakfast company and the permanent boarders in her head. She thought of Remy. She finally had what she wanted most in the world: a very large, very dysfunctional family.
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Awww...Did that clear things up or make it even more confusing? Aren't the little mutant kids cute? Jimmie's brutal and I don't want to be around Mary in a temper tantrum, but they're still cute.
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Review Responses
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Original + star_of_chaos : You've both hit on the prophecy as relates to Kitty. As you can see, it's a mess. How clear can people be on their deathbed? Not very. Don't worry, Jimmie will check in every now and then to try to make sense of the thing. Again, isn't he cute? Very scary powerful, but cute.
Lightspeed Suzuka: Yeah, I was joking about the Jean/Logan thing, sort of. I just want to see Scott's face. *brandishes fancy twenty-shots-a-second camera* I'm seriously thinking about a "practical joke gone wrong" fanfiction though. Bobby just might hate the two of them enough to spread the rumor. (I still have dibs until I choose not to write it).
Sweet-chick-3: Who's the girl in the hotel room...I don't know. My subconscious ordered me to put her in. I'll tell you why she's in it when my mind deems me worthy enough to know.
Addicted!...I'm addicted...addicted so update!...yikes! What am I, a drug or something? I'm not yelling at anyone, its actually kind of flattering to get readers that feel that way. Anyway, what do you people think/like/feel confused about?
Over 100 reviews, YIPPEE!
