Yet Another Epic Author's note and ISMA goes insane from lack of English:
First of all, I am SO sorry for not updating in so long. I recently (about
September) moved to France for the school year and we didn't have internet
for 3 FRIGGEN MONTHS!!!. I was nearly insane from fanfic deprivation. Not
to mention that I don't speak a WORD of French yet I still have to go to
French school. There are no books, comics, or movies in English and I DON"T
EVEN HAVE A STUPID TV!!! I haven't seen X-men since I left the U.S. in
SEPTEMBER!! So I'm currently going insane. Hopefully I will be updating
more frequently from now on.
Thanx to Joeysjellofreak for waking me up and reminding me that I have
stuff going on. And to Risty because I love everything she's written. And
also BJ2 (yessss I'm VERY HAPPY), xxFleurdelySxx, Anime05, and out-foxed.
YOU GUYS ARE GREAT!!! Oh yeah, translations are at the end, just thouht
you should know.
"Hello Mr.LeBeau."
Remy awoke with a jerk, hearing the cultured, almost British, voice above his head. "What de hell!" he shouted, scrambling back a few feet. He had been sure that the alley had been completely empty only a few minutes ago, and had dropped off to sleep in a sheltered corner. Now he was staring into a pair of glowing red eyes set in a paper white face.
"What d'you want?" Remy demanded. He pushed himself farther from the man, quickly searching for an escape route.
"To help," the man said, "Only to help."
"Don' need help."
The man chuckled, a deep ominous sound that scared Remy more than the glowing eyes or the red diamond tattoo on the man's forehead. "I believe you do." He nodded down at Remy's hands, which were glowing and pulsing with an eerie red light.
"Screw you." Replied the child.
"Come now, Remy," said the stranger, "I'm sure we can reach an agreement that is mutually acceptable. You have something that I want, and I can help you with that little. . . problem." The men looked down at Remy's hands and then back up to his face.
"What you want, homme?" Remy asked. He was still afraid, but this man had offered him a chance to fix whatever was wrong with him and Remy needed that chance.
"Merely a week of your time, a chance to draw some samples, perform some tests, perhaps a biopsy. And in return, I will remedy those uncontrolled powers of yours, for the time being.
Remy didn't know what most of what the man had said but he got the idea. It seemed pretty agreeable to him except perhaps for that one word, biopsy. He didn't know what it meant.
"'F Remy trusts you." He said a little more confidently, "You gonna get rid of de demon's fire in mes mains."
"For the moment, yes. I cannot perform anything permanent, however, as you have not finished growing and anything drastic would severely damage your cerebral cortex."
"Huh?"
The man sighed, "It won't last forever." He said, slowly and clearly.
"Oh."
"Indeed."
"What's your name, den?" asked Remy, looking shrewdly up at his new acquaintance.
"You may call me Essex."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"I can' believe he would just LEAVE like dat!" Jean-Luc sighed. He sat, slumped down in his chair in the main office of the New-Orleans Thieves Guild, a half-empty glass of brandy in his hand.
"Je sais, Pere." Henri said, "Dere must 'a been sometin' wrong. . ."
"Or maybe he realized how much trouble he was making and decided to take a load off everyone's shoulders." Said Theoren from the doorway. He was a guild member and one of those most against Remy's adoption,
"Lay off Theo." Said Henri, glaring at his fellow guild member.
"Non, I will no' 'lay off'! It was a mistake to adopt de boy and you know it! De rest of de Guild knows it! Now at least we can get back t' normal wit' out dat. . . _Mutant_ messin' t'ings up."
"THEOREN LEBOULANGER!!" came Tante Mattie's screech from the hallway, "You don' be spreaden' anymore o' your poison boy or I'll be wackin' you till you wished you were DEAD!!"
Theoren turned and glared at Mattie who was brandishing a frying pan like it was Excalibur.
"Get OUT boy!!" she shouted. With one last look at Henri and Jean-Luc LeBeau, Theoren allowed himself to be ushered outside by the furious Mattie. "I'm sorry you had to listen to dat." She said quietly upon reentering the office.
"Dats de attitude he been getting' since we adopted him." Said Jean- Luc, "No wonder he left." Henri nodded in agreement.
"Oh come now!" sanpped Tante Mattie, " de boy was HAPPY here! Y' could see it in de chile's eyes every time y' looked at him. Nutt'in sort of disaster would make him leave. An' nutt'in sort of disaster will keep us from findin' him!"
Jean-Luc just sighed and leaned his head against the table.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Remy sat on the cold, metal operation table and glanced around the cold, metal room. He had been there for approximately ten minutes and Essex had yet to say a word. They had not met any other people except for a big growly man who scared the wits out of Remy. Remy was already starting to hate it here.
"Sooo. This is y', y'. . ."
"This is my laboratory." Said the man sitting at the computer.
"Yeah. That. It's uh, nice."
"It was not designed to be aesthetically pleasing." Essex said, "I made it with efficiency in mind, not decorum.
"Oh." Remy said. 'What de hell is decorum?' was what he thought.
"I will take some blood and hair samples now, and then I will show you where you will be staying." Essex said.
"D'acorrd."
Remy sat as still as he could while Essex took clippings of his hair, a couple of samples of his blood, and even a piece of his fingernail. He glanced around the room as Essex carefully stored each sample in its own sterile, labeled, test tube.
There were three other tables in the room like the one Remy was sitting on. They both had restraints for wrists, ankles, and one even had metal bars for the waist and neck. Various computer consoles were lined against the wall as well as some beakers of strange multicolored chemicals. Four tall, glass, tube-like things were situated in the middle of the room, running from floor to ceiling. Remy had no idea what those were for.
There were only two doors leading out of the room. One, Remy knew, led out to the subway tunnel through which they had come. The other was the one that Essex was opening now. Behind it was a hall, lined with doors of the same cold, unforgivable metal, stretching down farther than Remy could see.
"Wow. Dis's one big place you got." He told Essex, his voice bouncing of the walls even though he was whispering.
Essex didn't respond, he simply opened a door and showed Remy into a room.
"This will be yours for the time being." he said. "Do not leave this room until I have come for you." With that he turned and left the room, locking the door behind him.
"Well DAT was polite." Thought Remy as he plopped down on the single bed, which was the only piece of furniture in the room. Remy stared up at the ceiling, trying to find something to do. The ceiling was a flat brown, as well as the walls, and the floor, and the bed. There was a (brown) door leading off into what turned out to be a bathroom, which was, not surprisingly, brown tile.
Remy sighed and crawled under the brown sheets, not even bothering to take off his clothes. He closed his eyes, trying everything he could not to think of Jean-Luc, Henri, or Tante Mattie.
A sound filtered in through the wall. It sounded suspiciously like a scream.
'Maybe dis wasn' such a good idea after all.' He though, just as he was falling asleep.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Theoren sat in a dingy bar in one of the worst places in New Orleans across from the living mountain know as Sabertooth.
"Y' better not be playin' wit me homme." He said, "I wanna know where de boy is and I wanna know he ain' comin' back."
"He's with an employer of mine." Sabertooth growled, "He ain't gonna be leaven' anytime soon either."
"I want you to MAKE SURE he doesn't get out." Theoren said, "De boy's been messin' in my guild too much and I want him OUT." Sabertooth growled louder in annoyance but nodded in agreement anyway.
"And y' make sure dat Jean-Luc don' hear anyt'ing about this!" Theoren continued, ignoring the fact that his feral companion was becoming increasingly irate.
Sabertooth nodded again, even though he felt like ripping the cocky thief's throat out.
'It be jus' my luck de boy decided to run away and save me de trouble of killin' him myself.' Theoren thought. It was just his luck, as well, that he liked to have drinks with one of New Orleans', no make that America's, most brutal murderers.
"Fine den." He stood and started to leave.
"Wait a minute, LeBoulanger." Said Sabertooth, grabbing the thief's arm and squeezing hard enough to make beads of sweat stand out on his brow. "I don't sell out Sinister for free." He held out his other hand to the thief, who laughed nervously and reached, into his pocket.
"Mais oui." He said, pulling out a glimmering ruby the size of his fist. "Dis enough for y'? Dere be one ot'er when I see de boys body."
Sabertooth fingered the jewel for a moment, gazing at its multifaceted surface. He laughed softly, loving the way the light bounced off the blood-red stone.
"He's dead meat."
TRANSLATIONS:
Homme: man
Mes mains: my hands
Je sais, Pere: I know, father
Mais oui: but yes, of course
D'acorrd: all right
Another Authors note: I don't know Theoren's last name. Actually I don't know ANYTHING about Theoren. I'm just using him for an angry guild member. His last name in the story is LeBoulanger, which is the same last name as a kid in my class. It means The Baker. Just a cute little fact.
"Hello Mr.LeBeau."
Remy awoke with a jerk, hearing the cultured, almost British, voice above his head. "What de hell!" he shouted, scrambling back a few feet. He had been sure that the alley had been completely empty only a few minutes ago, and had dropped off to sleep in a sheltered corner. Now he was staring into a pair of glowing red eyes set in a paper white face.
"What d'you want?" Remy demanded. He pushed himself farther from the man, quickly searching for an escape route.
"To help," the man said, "Only to help."
"Don' need help."
The man chuckled, a deep ominous sound that scared Remy more than the glowing eyes or the red diamond tattoo on the man's forehead. "I believe you do." He nodded down at Remy's hands, which were glowing and pulsing with an eerie red light.
"Screw you." Replied the child.
"Come now, Remy," said the stranger, "I'm sure we can reach an agreement that is mutually acceptable. You have something that I want, and I can help you with that little. . . problem." The men looked down at Remy's hands and then back up to his face.
"What you want, homme?" Remy asked. He was still afraid, but this man had offered him a chance to fix whatever was wrong with him and Remy needed that chance.
"Merely a week of your time, a chance to draw some samples, perform some tests, perhaps a biopsy. And in return, I will remedy those uncontrolled powers of yours, for the time being.
Remy didn't know what most of what the man had said but he got the idea. It seemed pretty agreeable to him except perhaps for that one word, biopsy. He didn't know what it meant.
"'F Remy trusts you." He said a little more confidently, "You gonna get rid of de demon's fire in mes mains."
"For the moment, yes. I cannot perform anything permanent, however, as you have not finished growing and anything drastic would severely damage your cerebral cortex."
"Huh?"
The man sighed, "It won't last forever." He said, slowly and clearly.
"Oh."
"Indeed."
"What's your name, den?" asked Remy, looking shrewdly up at his new acquaintance.
"You may call me Essex."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"I can' believe he would just LEAVE like dat!" Jean-Luc sighed. He sat, slumped down in his chair in the main office of the New-Orleans Thieves Guild, a half-empty glass of brandy in his hand.
"Je sais, Pere." Henri said, "Dere must 'a been sometin' wrong. . ."
"Or maybe he realized how much trouble he was making and decided to take a load off everyone's shoulders." Said Theoren from the doorway. He was a guild member and one of those most against Remy's adoption,
"Lay off Theo." Said Henri, glaring at his fellow guild member.
"Non, I will no' 'lay off'! It was a mistake to adopt de boy and you know it! De rest of de Guild knows it! Now at least we can get back t' normal wit' out dat. . . _Mutant_ messin' t'ings up."
"THEOREN LEBOULANGER!!" came Tante Mattie's screech from the hallway, "You don' be spreaden' anymore o' your poison boy or I'll be wackin' you till you wished you were DEAD!!"
Theoren turned and glared at Mattie who was brandishing a frying pan like it was Excalibur.
"Get OUT boy!!" she shouted. With one last look at Henri and Jean-Luc LeBeau, Theoren allowed himself to be ushered outside by the furious Mattie. "I'm sorry you had to listen to dat." She said quietly upon reentering the office.
"Dats de attitude he been getting' since we adopted him." Said Jean- Luc, "No wonder he left." Henri nodded in agreement.
"Oh come now!" sanpped Tante Mattie, " de boy was HAPPY here! Y' could see it in de chile's eyes every time y' looked at him. Nutt'in sort of disaster would make him leave. An' nutt'in sort of disaster will keep us from findin' him!"
Jean-Luc just sighed and leaned his head against the table.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Remy sat on the cold, metal operation table and glanced around the cold, metal room. He had been there for approximately ten minutes and Essex had yet to say a word. They had not met any other people except for a big growly man who scared the wits out of Remy. Remy was already starting to hate it here.
"Sooo. This is y', y'. . ."
"This is my laboratory." Said the man sitting at the computer.
"Yeah. That. It's uh, nice."
"It was not designed to be aesthetically pleasing." Essex said, "I made it with efficiency in mind, not decorum.
"Oh." Remy said. 'What de hell is decorum?' was what he thought.
"I will take some blood and hair samples now, and then I will show you where you will be staying." Essex said.
"D'acorrd."
Remy sat as still as he could while Essex took clippings of his hair, a couple of samples of his blood, and even a piece of his fingernail. He glanced around the room as Essex carefully stored each sample in its own sterile, labeled, test tube.
There were three other tables in the room like the one Remy was sitting on. They both had restraints for wrists, ankles, and one even had metal bars for the waist and neck. Various computer consoles were lined against the wall as well as some beakers of strange multicolored chemicals. Four tall, glass, tube-like things were situated in the middle of the room, running from floor to ceiling. Remy had no idea what those were for.
There were only two doors leading out of the room. One, Remy knew, led out to the subway tunnel through which they had come. The other was the one that Essex was opening now. Behind it was a hall, lined with doors of the same cold, unforgivable metal, stretching down farther than Remy could see.
"Wow. Dis's one big place you got." He told Essex, his voice bouncing of the walls even though he was whispering.
Essex didn't respond, he simply opened a door and showed Remy into a room.
"This will be yours for the time being." he said. "Do not leave this room until I have come for you." With that he turned and left the room, locking the door behind him.
"Well DAT was polite." Thought Remy as he plopped down on the single bed, which was the only piece of furniture in the room. Remy stared up at the ceiling, trying to find something to do. The ceiling was a flat brown, as well as the walls, and the floor, and the bed. There was a (brown) door leading off into what turned out to be a bathroom, which was, not surprisingly, brown tile.
Remy sighed and crawled under the brown sheets, not even bothering to take off his clothes. He closed his eyes, trying everything he could not to think of Jean-Luc, Henri, or Tante Mattie.
A sound filtered in through the wall. It sounded suspiciously like a scream.
'Maybe dis wasn' such a good idea after all.' He though, just as he was falling asleep.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Theoren sat in a dingy bar in one of the worst places in New Orleans across from the living mountain know as Sabertooth.
"Y' better not be playin' wit me homme." He said, "I wanna know where de boy is and I wanna know he ain' comin' back."
"He's with an employer of mine." Sabertooth growled, "He ain't gonna be leaven' anytime soon either."
"I want you to MAKE SURE he doesn't get out." Theoren said, "De boy's been messin' in my guild too much and I want him OUT." Sabertooth growled louder in annoyance but nodded in agreement anyway.
"And y' make sure dat Jean-Luc don' hear anyt'ing about this!" Theoren continued, ignoring the fact that his feral companion was becoming increasingly irate.
Sabertooth nodded again, even though he felt like ripping the cocky thief's throat out.
'It be jus' my luck de boy decided to run away and save me de trouble of killin' him myself.' Theoren thought. It was just his luck, as well, that he liked to have drinks with one of New Orleans', no make that America's, most brutal murderers.
"Fine den." He stood and started to leave.
"Wait a minute, LeBoulanger." Said Sabertooth, grabbing the thief's arm and squeezing hard enough to make beads of sweat stand out on his brow. "I don't sell out Sinister for free." He held out his other hand to the thief, who laughed nervously and reached, into his pocket.
"Mais oui." He said, pulling out a glimmering ruby the size of his fist. "Dis enough for y'? Dere be one ot'er when I see de boys body."
Sabertooth fingered the jewel for a moment, gazing at its multifaceted surface. He laughed softly, loving the way the light bounced off the blood-red stone.
"He's dead meat."
TRANSLATIONS:
Homme: man
Mes mains: my hands
Je sais, Pere: I know, father
Mais oui: but yes, of course
D'acorrd: all right
Another Authors note: I don't know Theoren's last name. Actually I don't know ANYTHING about Theoren. I'm just using him for an angry guild member. His last name in the story is LeBoulanger, which is the same last name as a kid in my class. It means The Baker. Just a cute little fact.