Once again, spoilers for X-Men # 185, so don't read yet if you don't want to be spoiled.
Ok, but anywho, for all y'all readin' this now, just got 185, and I felt it had soo many directions to go in. This is my take on Gambit/Death's thoughts and feelings on the events that happened during the comic. FYI – not too much plot now, but maybe later. Please review!
Spoilers – Poccy changed Gambit's eyes! That's crossing the line, buddy. As icky as the black skin and long white hair are, I could handle it, but he messed with his eyes. It's on.
Oh yeah, I don't own X-Men (surprised?). And I ain't makin' any money on this either.
Death stared at the assembled group of X-Men before him, with Apocalypse an unimaginable pillar of strength and will behind him. To Death, these X-Men should mean absolutely nothing. The only purpose they served was to get in the way of his master's plans, and for that, they should be eliminated. However, Death could not completely immerse himself inside an unfeeling shell. Memories, and things he couldn't recognize, gave him flashes of his past…no, the past of who Death used to be. To Remy Lebeau, the man whose body Death inhabited, these X-Men meant quite a lot.
The one covered with an icy, sharp exterior was called Iceman, and the man in the skin tight black suit with silver circles and paneling was named Havok. They brought a vague sense of warmth to the back of Death's mind, but one that was easily pushed away. The two in the back of the group, the blue skinned, red-haired female, and the tall, short haired blonde male brought something that to the memories Death fully understood.
Rage.
There had been no love lost between his old self and those two mutants. The mere sight of them created such a blinding intensity within Death, but that too was pushed away.
But the woman in the front, clad in striking gold and green, with a long coat, and beautiful brown hair, streaked with white in the front…Rogue. She brought senses to him that were hard to shove aside. Soft, but strong, caressing warmth gently touched his mind, traveling down his body, curling around his chest, his heart, playfully stroking his face, his hands, played down his stomach, his hips, lower…Death tried to push it away, but it stayed, touching and feeling. The most he could do was to ignore the strange warmth.
To his shame, watching the X-Men and trying to decipher the…feelings… they brought up within him, he had not heard the conversation between them and his master. Rogue suddenly screamed something at Apocalypse, and fire flew from her hands at Death's master. Without even thinking, he slammed a hand against her face, sending her to the floor. The warmth stopped touching, stopped stroking, and, feeling some sort of relief, Death raised a foot to smash her face in. Rogue whispered, "R-Remy?" At that moment, the warmth chose to return. With a vengeance. It encircled him so tightly, with such a fiery heat, that he could hardly breathe, much less move.
"D-darlin'! Don't you know who I am?" Rogue said from the ground, with a broken, almost helpless voice. Death, still held in the heat's grasp, stared down at her for a moment. It was almost like the heat was stopping him, holding Death back from destroying Rogue. At that moment, Iceman chose to slam into Death, hard, knocking him away from Rogue. Anger rippled in Death's mind, until he heard Rogue tell Iceman not to hurt Gambit…she meant Death? Why would the woman defend him? Pushing his questions aside, Death reveled in his newly gifted strength by reaching out a black-gloved hand and slamming Iceman to the ground, shards of flooring flying into the air. Death needed protection from no one.
Blood coated everything. Thick, clogging, red fluid was on the floor, on the X-Men, and on Death himself. The X-Man called Havok had literally wreaked havoc on the antidote's containers, his energy blast taking out a large portion of tubing. As everyone pulled themselves from the ground, Death saw that the X-Men were no worse for the wear than he was.
"Master, the X-Men…"
"Will be dealt with later. The ship must heal itself. It can do that best while in transit…Now help me hold-" Apocalypse was cut short by another burst from Havok, flinging Death and Apocalypse away from the group.
"R-Remy. Come home with me. Please." Rogue said, causing the warmth to flare up…but with Apocalypse, it was easier to forget it.
"I am not Remy. I am Dea-"
"No! I don't believe that! There must be some part of you that still loves me. No matter what awful things Apocalypse did to your body…He can't have completely crushed out all that love." Even drenched in blood, her confession of… love… overrode Apocalypse's influence.
"Love, Master?" Death asked. He knew the word, he thought, but not the meaning.
"An emotional response with some limited evolutionary benefit. Now enough of this, Death! Use the gas on her!"
"The gas…" It was so easy, commands. Please the Master, help Apocalypse, stop anyone in his way… Orders made it simple to not feel, to finally push away the warmth…spreading his fingers, Death called the gas, and it appeared in a cloud around the brunette's head. She coughed, going to her knees. In a few more moments, she would be dead. Death felt no satisfaction over the knowledge that he would be her killer. Death is death, a state of being…or not being… but not a feeling.
Sorry to end it there (I know the issue ain't over yet) but school calls. AND I left all my comics upstairs, which I was gonna use for some "memory" reference. Frankly, I'm just too lazy to go upstairs and get them. So, memories and Gambit/Death's conversation with Poccy next chapter, if people like this goofy first chapter.
Side Note - For those of you who've read this before, I added a little at the end! 2nd chapter is on it's way. YAY!
