X-Men: Evolution

Blood Magics

29. Seeking Information

The deck of cards did wonders for his mental state, at least so far as he was no longer bored out of his mind. Still, it wasn't the only thing occupying him; worry filled Remy as he shuffled the deck for another round of solitaire. It had been bothering at him all day, as well as yesterday, and the nights in between his conversation with Rogue and Professor Xavier.

He didn't want anything to do with Sinister, he didn't want Rogue to have anything to do with Sinister. He didn't want anyone to have anything to do with Sinister. The man was surely insane, if not a sociopath, psychopath, or some combination of the two.

Perhaps he was all three.

He was trying pretty hard to keep his mind on his cards rather than on imagining what scenarios he was sure Sinister could come up with for someone like Rogue, but he was failing; his handling of the cards was considerably sloppier than normal. When a thud hit the door, he welcomed the distraction it brought, even if that distraction was confusion. In general, Remy didn't like being confused; as long as he knew what was going on, it was generally rather easy to keep a poker face until he figured out how to turn the situation to his advantage, at least most of the time. Confusion, though, meant unknown factors.

The thud against the door came again, a scraping sound accompanying it. It sounded as though something had hit the door about halfway up, then slid down it. Remy frowned.

It wasn't quite time when he got served dinner. Then again, perhaps things were messed up today; his lunch had been late, hurriedly handed to him by Jean before the redhead had ducked back out and ran down the hall to get back to whatever she'd been doing previously. He'd heard from her footsteps that she'd been running before the heavy door swung itself fully shut.

But when the thud came again, once again with the scraping, he dismissed the thought that dinner was being brought early. No one he could think of would make that sound.

A fourth thud was not followed by scraping; instead, the doorknob, the kind that was a flat, silver handle that you pushed down, rattled and fell part of the way. After a moment and some muffled thumping, the handle moved all the way down and a bit more thumping that sounded like someone might have been kicking the doorframe came before the door shuddered open a crack.

Once it had opened, more sounds came through; high- pitched grunting and scraping. Remy watched, perplexed, as the door trembled, then very, very slowly, began to open a little wider.

A tiny black paw stuck its way through, then another, and then part of a small, black body. Once the part of the body came through, the knob rattled again as something released it, and a snakelike head whipped inside. Finally, Remy understood just who his visitor was as the little dragon he had seen at the café riot huffed and shoved with all her might, heaving the door far enough open that she was finally able to tumble rather ungracefully inside. She lay there panting as the door swung shut, and he smiled, amused.

This visitor, he never saw coming.

Her legs and wings were all spread out as she sprawled, but after a few moments of trying to get her breath back, her limbs flailed a little, and she scrambled to her feet, folding her left wing so that it was tucked along her side. Her right wing, Remy noticed with bemusement, was left to drag along the floor. She gave it an unhappy look, but nothing more.

When she approached his cage, after a few steps, she hesitated. Remy crouched down to get close to her level.

"Well, now, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He let his amusement warm his voice.

The little dragon blinked up at him, one of her back paws taking a step back. One front one lifted a little; her eyes locked with his.

Remy had a mutant power that he'd never told anyone about, empathy. When he was able to use his mutant abilities freely, he could easily check the emotions of anyone and everyone around him if he so chose, and could even influence them a certain amount. In this case, however, he didn't need it to tell that the emotion swimming in the girl's eyes was fear.

(And, even when he had use of his powers, he didn't use his empathy anyway unless it was an emergency. He considered it cheating.)

"What's wrong, petite? Remy didn't think he was that scary." He teased gently, hoping that would break the ice.

She shuffled her paws anxiously, her head dropping to fix her gaze on the floor.

"Everyone is scary." She mumbled, and Remy was surprised. Piotr had told him a little bit about each person in the mansion, and he'd mentioned that the small dragon was a young girl, but Remy hadn't realized she was that young.

"You think so?" Remy asked her, studying her carefully. He did suppose, at her size, that it might not be that hard for people to seem scary when they all towered over her. He suspected, however, that there was a little more to it then that.

"Well, not everyone, everyone. The people who live here aren't, except Tabitha. She's kind of scary. Everyone else isn't. But I don't know you."

Perfect; he could use this as an inroad to learn a bit more about her. Including why she was here.

He sat down on the ground, getting just a little closer to her level. "Well, we can fix that. My name is Remy. What's yours?"

She blinked at him. "I… it's Dragon. That's what I want to be called, anyway. I don't like my real name. But I thought other people were calling you Gambit?"

"Well, yes, I go by that, too. Usually when I'm working. But my real name is Remy."

"Oh… like how lots of the others have two names. Got it."

"That's right. Now, if you don't mind my asking, what brings you down here? Not that I don't appreciate having company." He smiled at her.

She turned more nervous again, sitting down- why was that right wing still dragging on the ground?- and scuffing her front paws on the ground, her eyes on them.

"I heard… Mrs. O talking to Mr. Logan. She thinks that you might be joining us soon."

"Oh?" She sure had his interest with that. Nice to know that things were going in his favour, at least as far as it looking like he was going to get a chance…

"Mr. Logan was really upset about it, but Mrs. O seemed pretty sure. So I thought, if you were going to join us… I should meet you? I've been told I need to meet new people, and I thought maybe if I met you down here-"

Her jaws snapped shut as if someone had clamped them on her, and she looked embarrassed.

"Go on."

"No. Sorry. It's probably not very nice of me. I-I…" She looked at the door, then deflated, and Remy could almost hear her thinking. I should go… but how do I open the door again?

"It's alright, I'm not offended. You can tell me. I won't get mad." He assured, honestly finding the situation more than a little funny.

She hesitated, looking uncomfortable, and her head lowered in shame. She mumbled,

"I thought maybe you'd seem less scary if I tried to meet you while you were still locked up. I'm not good with new people, but me meeting them seems really important to Mrs. O and the professor. I thought maybe…"

"Maybe if you knew I was locked up and couldn't get you, I wouldn't be scary?" Remy finished. He was still amused, but kept it out of his voice this time. Dragon shrank in on herself even more.

"Sorry." The whisper was said more to her paws than to him.

"Nah, like I told you, I'm not mad. I am curious, though. Why do you think people are so scary?"

She looked up, still looking rather ashamed. "Because they are. Before I came here, lots of them were really mean."

"Ah." Remy said, giving her an understanding nod. "Sometimes they can be, if you grow up in the wrong place. How old are you?"

His mind raced, trying to figure out how to work this conversation to where he wanted. He was able to charm just about anyone he wanted, if he decided he wanted to, and that included small children.

Rogue, on the other hand, had provided some interesting challenges; sometimes, his charm appeared to be working well, and others, it seemed to have no effect. And honestly, that was the challenge he was looking forward to; he liked a good challenge, and while her power certainly provided one, he found he didn't care about that nearly so much as he did her personality. He wanted to work his way in close to her; it would, he was sure, be a very enjoyable task, and he was pretty sure that even after he won her over she would keep him on his toes. That was what he liked most of all about her. She was fragile and vulnerable while being tough and strong at the same time, and Dieu, he loved that about her. The fact that she was one of the most gorgeous women he'd ever seen was an incredible bonus. He wanted to win her over so badly, and he could start by forming bonds with some of the other people here. He was bound to have some missteps as he learned exactly what kind of dance she preferred, after all, and having a few people who might be willing to help him when those missteps happened would be ideal.

And besides that, Dragon here was quite interesting herself.

At his question, she was shaking her head. "Why does everyone want to know that?" She wondered, then her left wing partially unfolded and rose up, then lowered back into place. Remy stared at the odd gesture, trying to figure out what that could have meant. "Well, I do have an answer now, I guess. I'm nine."

"Nine?" Remy was surprised; she sounded even younger than that. He wasn't going to question it, but she did hear the question in his voice.

"Yes, nine. And before you ask, I started mutating when I was four."

That wasn't a question he'd been intending to ask her, but he did see how it might be one she got asked a lot. A drastic mutation like that had one thinking that it might have happened at birth, like a lot of physical mutations were- certainly Remy's physical mutation had been. But on the other hand, if she'd been born looking like that, labour would have been a nightmare for her mother.

Yes, this little mutant was quite interesting on her own. Though the reason Remy had come was, in a large part, because he'd wanted to be closer to Rogue after burning his final bridge in New Orleans, and because he honestly was tired of working for Magneto and a cause that he didn't actually believe in himself when he'd worked with humans on the regular who were nearly as talented as himself, it certainly wouldn't hurt to make a few more friends as well.

And this tiny mutant sounded like she needed some, too, if everything to do with new people was that scary to her. They could both benefit.

He shifted closer to the bars of his cage, and asked one question that was still bothering him a little.

"So, Dragon, why are you keeping one wing dragging on the floor?"

The girl deflated. She was silent for a moment, and Remy almost told her she didn't have to answer if she didn't want to when she mumbled,

"Can't move it. Sabretooth hurt it on Saturday and it's not working again. Yet." She added the last word almost like an afterthought, one full of desperation that made her voice crack, and he wondered about that, but figured it was better to ask someone else; reading her body language, odd though it was in her shape, told him it was a sensitive subject.

It was that moment when the answer hit him- her strange half- opening and then reclosing of her wing. Her shape made some of her body language somewhat distorted, and the realization came that that particular wing movement must be her equivalent of a shrug!

He smiled, making sure to keep it gentle. "I see. Well, if you bring yourself close, I might be able to help fold it up for you? I can't reach too far through the bars, but I think we could manage it between the two of us if we're careful."

"Oh. You think?" Dragon hesitated, then stood up, walking over; her claws, he noticed, made little clicking sounds on the floor. He hoped that once he got her wing in place, they could exchange a couple stories; he'd tell her a little about himself, carefully filtered of course, and hopefully he could get her to share some things about people around the mansion, particularly his chere. He wanted to know more. He wanted a distraction from the fear that told him something bad was going to happen, too.

"Sure. Let's see what we can do."

Besides, as he'd already thought, Dragon seemed interesting enough on her own to see if he could learn more about her, too.

After some discussion, they were able to figure out that when Sinister had said that his device shut down active mutations, it meant active ones only. Wolverine, it seemed, still had his enhanced senses, as did Beast, though Wolverine's were far more sensitive to begin with.

It did not, however, help with a way out. Kitty brought up several times that if they could get Kurt to snap out of it, then he could easily get them out, and while Storm agreed with that, she did not share the girl's optimism that that could be done. Every time she tried talking to Kurt, she got no response.

Storm was beginning to think, herself, that they were going to have to wait. For one thing, when they didn't check in, those at home would realize something was wrong, and would start looking, although that wasn't as comforting a thought as it would have been if Storm could be sure that their left- behind students would know where to find them. If Kurt, wearing that device, really could teleport anywhere, then they might be hundreds of miles away from where they had landed the X- Jet.

The other reason to wait was to see if a pattern could be established. Sinister had yet to return, and Kurt simply stood there unmoving, barely blinking, but their arrival would have thrown things off. And if Sinister planned on keeping them for any length of time, things like meals were going to have to be established. That might be the time that they could take advantage of, if they could work out a plan.

A plan which, as far as she could tell, they were going to have to discuss out loud, where anyone could hear. They had no other way to communicate, at this point; it wasn't ideal at all. But if they had a plan to get out, then all they needed to do to give themselves a fighting chance was figure out which machine was blocking them from using their powers, and shut it down. Once that had been removed as an obstacle, they could fight their way out and send a signal for help.

The biggest problem with that plan was that the longer they waited, the more trouble they could potentially be in. So while Storm didn't see any other option, it still didn't sit well with her. Sinister was not going to remain idle while they tried to figure out which device it was that they needed to destroy at their first chance. She knew full well he meant to experiment on them all, and she had no idea what those experiments might be or if they would survive them once they began.

Only one person had already been there a long time; he might hold the most answers.

Storm looked at the tank holding the shadowy mass.

"Tristan, are you open to helping us escape?" She asked.

The shadow swirled around. "Me? Well, yeah, but what can I do? I'm as trapped as you are, and unless Sinister exerts his control over me again, I'm attached to this tank. I can't go far from it without help from Sinister himself. I'd be willing to help, but… I wouldn't have the chance to do anything."

"I see. I understand that. And you said you do not know what device is for maintaining the mutant power blockade?"

"No idea." The shadow sighed, honestly seeming miserable. "I'm really sorry."

"Don't be. Could you tell us what devices you do know a use for? That would help narrow it down."

"Oh?"

"That could be helpful, at least, to know where not to start." Beast mused.

"Yeah, I could do that, then! Let's see… the beige- coloured control panel right here attached to my tank is for my tank. Destroying it would set me free and send me back where I came from. And, hey, I know you don't owe me anything, but do you think you guys could do just that if you get a chance? I mean, if not, then just escape; like I said, it's not like he can hurt me. But I need to go back to where I deserve to be, if I can."

"We should be able to manage that on our way out, if everything is going well." Professor Xavier told him. Storm felt another flare of anger at their captor, as she did each time she got a reminder that without his wheelchair, Charles was left to languish on the floor.

"Great. That would be awesome. That computer face over there, opposite the chains on the wall? That's his scanner that he uses on the people he puts in those chains. And then that black machine on the desk that's over near Beast's cage? He uses that for running blood samples. Dunno exactly what it's for testing. Then the table that's set up over there- you see it? Three machines, two grey and a black? The grey one on the right runs a laser. I saw him use it to cut something, once. But, um… that's all I know. He has another room in the back that he's been doing a lot of his work in, and… I've never seen it. It's where he is now, I'm sure, but I've got no idea what he does back there."

"Thank you, that's helpful." Beast told him. "So we know, now, some of the uses of some of the machines. The more we can determine, the more we can narrow down which one is likely to be the one we need to remove."

"And how are we going to do that?" Kitty snapped. When all of her efforts to try to make Kurt respond to her had failed, she had gotten upset, and still was. She crossed her arms. "It's not like we can just ask nicely."

"We'll figure it out, Kitty." Cyclops said, authority in his voice. Storm knew it was likely intended to soothe, as if he could reassure that it would be so by saying it, but it had the opposite effect on both Kitty and Rogue.

"Oh, right, just because you say so doesn't make it possible!" Rogue snapped at him. "Face reality, Scott, we're stuck! We ain't gettin' outta here without help!"

"I just mean-"

"You just mean what? That when Sinister comes in you'll demand that he let us go because you're in charge now? Yeah, that'll work!"

"Calm down!" Charles commanded. "I understand why you're all getting upset, but this is not helping. We are going to get out of here, and we're going to do it by working together."

Kitty and Rogue both quieted down.

"Sorry, Professor." Rogue muttered, looking down at the ground.

The fight between them having cooled down, Storm glanced at Charles, hoping that his words meant he had an idea. Unfortunately, one look at him told her that his words had been to cool the rising tempers, and fears, only.

None of them had any ideas on how to get out.

A/N: Poor Dragon. She went to use her power to get under the door, but since the room shuts them all down, she ran face- first into it. XD thankfully she figured it out quickly and managed to use the doorknob. She was lucky it was a large flat handle that she could use her jaw to get a grip on.

The others are still stuck. No ideas yet, other than waiting to see if they can pick up a pattern in Sinister's movements. At the same time, they don't want to wait that long... if only there was another option...