Well look at me, posting twice in.Oh it is 12:00 on the nose
now, never mind. I was going to say that I posted twice in one day, but I
can't do that now, darn! Well anyway, you get some juicy goodness in this
chapter, so enjoy. Oh, I don't speak fluent French by the way, I take it in
school though which helps out. Now for the drill; I don't own x-men, marvel
does, you all know it. Well, I do hope you r/r and I appreciate it greatly,
I love all the reviews I get, and I send a special thank you to Dark Elf,
for making me feel all special and what not. Well here you go, something I
consider a GOOD chapter.
Chapter 4: Les Memoires
Again she found herself in the vast darkness of unconsciousness, but this time it was different. Before it was pure darkness, no light to be seen, no scenery, no nothing, just dreamless slumber. This time she was dreaming, or was she? It seemed far to real to be a dream, but maybe it was a memory, a memory which definitely didn't belong to her. Rogue was a spectator, seeing things in two different perspectives at the same time; one being her own as if she were in a corner watching, and the other as if she were an actual person, feeling, and being in the situation. This was definitely no dream, this was a memory, Remy's memory.
Remy was standing in a barely lit office, looking down at the floor, with a man standing in front of him. The room was old an untouched with a mirror standing atop a dresser and two shelves filled with dusty books. The whole scene was that of abandonment, and aged dust, making the energy of the situation one of dank dimness. What little light there was came from numerous candles lit throughout the office; she could tell that they had been burning for quite some time, for the wax was almost completely gone. The man Rogue recognized as Magneto, looking sternly at his Acolyte, as if contemplating how to phrase his thoughts.
"You disappoint me," he said finally, rubbing his chin with his right hand, "You promised me the most talented thief in the world, the most loyal warrior I would ever be able to find, and you disappoint me."
"Gambit jus' do his job," he replied quietly.
"Is that what you call it?" Magneto gave a shallow laugh, "It looked to me as if you weren't even trying."
"How so?"
"You went easy on them," he answered in a tedious, yet cold voice, "You deflected their offence, and barely struck with malicious offence of your own."
"Didn't know dis was life an death," he looked up with a certain glint in his red and black eyes, as if a fire had been born.
"You do what you need to do to get what we need," Gambit cut him off this time.
"What we need? Don't you mean what you need?" he stared down the older man who just gazed right back.
"You are audacious Gambit, too audacious for your own good," he walked to the dresser and put both his hands down upon it, "I didn't notice it until that last encounter with the X-men, or perhaps I didn't want to notice it. You do get the job done, but that is all you do."
"What did you expect?"
"I'll tell you what I did not expect," he looked back to Remy, "I didn't expect you to have the opportunity to take out one of the X-Men, and purposely let them go."
"Excuse me?" he didn't recall such a thing.
"The girl with the make up, the one they call Rogue, you gave her the Queen of Hearts, if memory serves," he walked back over to the center of the room as realization dawned on Remy, "You charged the card, but you did not give it the power to hurt let alone scratch her!" his voice raised to a yell.
"How do you know dis?" he asked, not knowing what else to say. The thing he had deducted about Magneto was that he had the keen ability to tell when people are lying. If Remy had denied his actions, Magneto would know.
"You think that you're my only allies?" he gave a chuckle, "You do my dirty work, not the brain work."
"Je ferais attention avec les mots que vous choisissez de dire si je vous étais," he warned in an angry, yet steady tone. Remy did not like to be mocked in such ways, and those who did mock him, always regretted it later. What Magneto did not understand was this:
"I'd be careful with the words you choose to say if I were you," he gave a confident smirk, but the boss just stared back at him with icy blue eyes.
"Don't threaten me," he actually had no idea what he had said, Magneto had known French long ago, but now it was almost completely lost to him, "And don't take mercy on those fighting our cause.
"Your cause," he corrected, "Not mine, never mine; dis is business homme," he was feeling anxious and a little nervous at the same time, but between that he felt proud and brave. Rogue felt what Remy was feeling, she knew the distaste he had for Magneto, and she new that he hadn't fully charged the Queen of Hearts because he felt sympathy for her, and he had liked her. But why sympathy? Why did he like her?
"I am beginning to question your diligence Remy, so remember this; I'll be keeping a watchful eye on you."
"Great," he said sarcastically, and turned his back to leave, "Vous condamnez le bâtard," he let out under his breath, but Magneto did not catch it, which was a good thing even though he didn't speak French because he would have probably caught on:
"You damn bastard," was the translation, and Rogue for some reason, though just a spectator, understood. She was humored by this, because she had never seen anybody stand up to the likes of Magneto with such disregard for their own well being; it was respectable.
She awoke from the dream slowly, and gently, as she had never done after a memory dream. It was still light outside, and she had gotten the impression that she had not been asleep long. Immediately she smelled something delicious coming from the kitchen; Remy's cooking must not be as bad as she had thought. Rogue knew she really did owe him some sort of apology from the way she had treated him earlier. Who knows, maybe she should be thanking him for not killing her with that card.
In the course of his memory she had learnt something about the Cajun, and it was something very notable, and important to her perception of him. She had discovered that he had as much hatred towards Magneto as she, or any of her allies did. This brought up a question in her mind though: Why did he work for him? It didn't make much sense, but he had said it was business, so perhaps he was getting handsomely paid? Something didn't add up; though Remy seemed like the type to do just about anything for a pretty penny, he didn't seem the type to take orders from somebody he did not respect. Once again she found herself sighing in contemplation as she had earlier. There was only one way to get any answers, and that was to ask him. Of course, Remy wasn't one to blatantly divulge information about anything, but she had to try. Anyway, she was starting to realize that she was hungry as hell, and getting some food might be a good excuse to talk to him.
Slowly once more, she exited the confines of the room, and made her way to one of the kitchen stools and sat down. He smiled at her again, it seemed that he had kept no angry emotions towards her for her earlier behavior. It was odd when she dwelled upon it, the Remy staring at her now, the only Remy she had actually encountered seemed to be nothing like the Remy in Magneto's office. Everybody has more than one face though, she knew that better than anyone. Rogue was surprised to find herself nervous in her new endeavor, the newfound feeling made her smile.
"Soutient encore chere?" meaning:
"Back again dear?"
"Qui, que peut-il je dis? vous êtes irrésistible," she surprised herself with her superior use of the French language. She supposed that she had gotten a crash course in the dialect from absorbing some of him, which, come to think of it, she didn't even remember doing. Remy too was surprised, at not only her French, but her joking mood. She had been somewhat playful when she said:
"Yes, what can I say? You are irresistible."
"You speak French?" he questioned with an even bigger smile on his face.
"I think you're responsible for that," rested her head in her hands.
"What you getten at chere?"
"Your boss didn't tell you about my power did he?" she mused.
"Not in detail, no," he gave a small look of curiosity.
"I absorb powers, memories, people the works, all it takes is skin on skin, and we must have come in contact once upon a time," at her brief description he sighed and gave a weak laugh.
"Une belle femme qui ne peut pas être touchée, la pitié," he gave her a look as he spoke, a look which she had never seen on anybody, and that she just couldn't describe, but she shook it off. Maybe it had just been the words meaning:
"Beautiful woman who can't be touched, pity."
"Je ferais attention avec les mots que vous choisissez de dire si je vous étais," she took the words from the memory, wondering if her would remember speaking them. By his expression Rogue could tell that he did indeed remember, she just hoped that she hadn't opened a can of worms.
Leaving you with a cliffhanger, because, you know, I'm evil like that. Hope you liked it, I got inspired, and if anyone has read my other works, then you know how much I love dream sequences ha ha. So r/r please.
Chapter 4: Les Memoires
Again she found herself in the vast darkness of unconsciousness, but this time it was different. Before it was pure darkness, no light to be seen, no scenery, no nothing, just dreamless slumber. This time she was dreaming, or was she? It seemed far to real to be a dream, but maybe it was a memory, a memory which definitely didn't belong to her. Rogue was a spectator, seeing things in two different perspectives at the same time; one being her own as if she were in a corner watching, and the other as if she were an actual person, feeling, and being in the situation. This was definitely no dream, this was a memory, Remy's memory.
Remy was standing in a barely lit office, looking down at the floor, with a man standing in front of him. The room was old an untouched with a mirror standing atop a dresser and two shelves filled with dusty books. The whole scene was that of abandonment, and aged dust, making the energy of the situation one of dank dimness. What little light there was came from numerous candles lit throughout the office; she could tell that they had been burning for quite some time, for the wax was almost completely gone. The man Rogue recognized as Magneto, looking sternly at his Acolyte, as if contemplating how to phrase his thoughts.
"You disappoint me," he said finally, rubbing his chin with his right hand, "You promised me the most talented thief in the world, the most loyal warrior I would ever be able to find, and you disappoint me."
"Gambit jus' do his job," he replied quietly.
"Is that what you call it?" Magneto gave a shallow laugh, "It looked to me as if you weren't even trying."
"How so?"
"You went easy on them," he answered in a tedious, yet cold voice, "You deflected their offence, and barely struck with malicious offence of your own."
"Didn't know dis was life an death," he looked up with a certain glint in his red and black eyes, as if a fire had been born.
"You do what you need to do to get what we need," Gambit cut him off this time.
"What we need? Don't you mean what you need?" he stared down the older man who just gazed right back.
"You are audacious Gambit, too audacious for your own good," he walked to the dresser and put both his hands down upon it, "I didn't notice it until that last encounter with the X-men, or perhaps I didn't want to notice it. You do get the job done, but that is all you do."
"What did you expect?"
"I'll tell you what I did not expect," he looked back to Remy, "I didn't expect you to have the opportunity to take out one of the X-Men, and purposely let them go."
"Excuse me?" he didn't recall such a thing.
"The girl with the make up, the one they call Rogue, you gave her the Queen of Hearts, if memory serves," he walked back over to the center of the room as realization dawned on Remy, "You charged the card, but you did not give it the power to hurt let alone scratch her!" his voice raised to a yell.
"How do you know dis?" he asked, not knowing what else to say. The thing he had deducted about Magneto was that he had the keen ability to tell when people are lying. If Remy had denied his actions, Magneto would know.
"You think that you're my only allies?" he gave a chuckle, "You do my dirty work, not the brain work."
"Je ferais attention avec les mots que vous choisissez de dire si je vous étais," he warned in an angry, yet steady tone. Remy did not like to be mocked in such ways, and those who did mock him, always regretted it later. What Magneto did not understand was this:
"I'd be careful with the words you choose to say if I were you," he gave a confident smirk, but the boss just stared back at him with icy blue eyes.
"Don't threaten me," he actually had no idea what he had said, Magneto had known French long ago, but now it was almost completely lost to him, "And don't take mercy on those fighting our cause.
"Your cause," he corrected, "Not mine, never mine; dis is business homme," he was feeling anxious and a little nervous at the same time, but between that he felt proud and brave. Rogue felt what Remy was feeling, she knew the distaste he had for Magneto, and she new that he hadn't fully charged the Queen of Hearts because he felt sympathy for her, and he had liked her. But why sympathy? Why did he like her?
"I am beginning to question your diligence Remy, so remember this; I'll be keeping a watchful eye on you."
"Great," he said sarcastically, and turned his back to leave, "Vous condamnez le bâtard," he let out under his breath, but Magneto did not catch it, which was a good thing even though he didn't speak French because he would have probably caught on:
"You damn bastard," was the translation, and Rogue for some reason, though just a spectator, understood. She was humored by this, because she had never seen anybody stand up to the likes of Magneto with such disregard for their own well being; it was respectable.
She awoke from the dream slowly, and gently, as she had never done after a memory dream. It was still light outside, and she had gotten the impression that she had not been asleep long. Immediately she smelled something delicious coming from the kitchen; Remy's cooking must not be as bad as she had thought. Rogue knew she really did owe him some sort of apology from the way she had treated him earlier. Who knows, maybe she should be thanking him for not killing her with that card.
In the course of his memory she had learnt something about the Cajun, and it was something very notable, and important to her perception of him. She had discovered that he had as much hatred towards Magneto as she, or any of her allies did. This brought up a question in her mind though: Why did he work for him? It didn't make much sense, but he had said it was business, so perhaps he was getting handsomely paid? Something didn't add up; though Remy seemed like the type to do just about anything for a pretty penny, he didn't seem the type to take orders from somebody he did not respect. Once again she found herself sighing in contemplation as she had earlier. There was only one way to get any answers, and that was to ask him. Of course, Remy wasn't one to blatantly divulge information about anything, but she had to try. Anyway, she was starting to realize that she was hungry as hell, and getting some food might be a good excuse to talk to him.
Slowly once more, she exited the confines of the room, and made her way to one of the kitchen stools and sat down. He smiled at her again, it seemed that he had kept no angry emotions towards her for her earlier behavior. It was odd when she dwelled upon it, the Remy staring at her now, the only Remy she had actually encountered seemed to be nothing like the Remy in Magneto's office. Everybody has more than one face though, she knew that better than anyone. Rogue was surprised to find herself nervous in her new endeavor, the newfound feeling made her smile.
"Soutient encore chere?" meaning:
"Back again dear?"
"Qui, que peut-il je dis? vous êtes irrésistible," she surprised herself with her superior use of the French language. She supposed that she had gotten a crash course in the dialect from absorbing some of him, which, come to think of it, she didn't even remember doing. Remy too was surprised, at not only her French, but her joking mood. She had been somewhat playful when she said:
"Yes, what can I say? You are irresistible."
"You speak French?" he questioned with an even bigger smile on his face.
"I think you're responsible for that," rested her head in her hands.
"What you getten at chere?"
"Your boss didn't tell you about my power did he?" she mused.
"Not in detail, no," he gave a small look of curiosity.
"I absorb powers, memories, people the works, all it takes is skin on skin, and we must have come in contact once upon a time," at her brief description he sighed and gave a weak laugh.
"Une belle femme qui ne peut pas être touchée, la pitié," he gave her a look as he spoke, a look which she had never seen on anybody, and that she just couldn't describe, but she shook it off. Maybe it had just been the words meaning:
"Beautiful woman who can't be touched, pity."
"Je ferais attention avec les mots que vous choisissez de dire si je vous étais," she took the words from the memory, wondering if her would remember speaking them. By his expression Rogue could tell that he did indeed remember, she just hoped that she hadn't opened a can of worms.
Leaving you with a cliffhanger, because, you know, I'm evil like that. Hope you liked it, I got inspired, and if anyone has read my other works, then you know how much I love dream sequences ha ha. So r/r please.