<div class="floatleft">(https://i246.photobucket.com/albums/gg107/penceton/X-Men/gambitholloway2.jpg)</div><br/><br/><strong>Character</strong>:<em>Remy LeBeau/Gambit</em><br/><strong>Location</strong>:<em>X-Mansion - Poolside</em><br/><strong>Tagging</strong>:<em>Clone, Crystal</em>/OPEN<br/><hr/><hr/><br/><strong>Friday Night.  [Somewhere.  In New York]</strong><br/><br/><em>&lt;&gt;This is who you are.  What you are.  At the end, LeBeau...you'd do well to remember:  you belong to me.&lt;&gt;</em><br/><br/>Fickle.  Is the<em>wind</em>.  Which blows any, an every.  Thing.  This way and that.  Perhaps even...a tiny<em>leaf</em>.  Caressing.  Caretaking.  Unto the wind's grasp, its all but.  Helpless.  And pliable.  Taken where upon ever it's.  Transported.   It is a<em>leaf</em>after all, and has NO choice.  NO free will in the matter.  Why...<br/><br/>The wind could carry it into the Ocean wherein it would surely<em>drown</em>.<br/>The wind could carry it into a Volcano wherein it would surely<em>burn</em>.<br/>The wind could even carry it into the Desert wherein it would surely<em>crumble</em>.<br/>Or, the wind could simply.  Just...<br/><br/>Stop.  Blowing.  Setting the<em>leaf</em>free.  If but, for an instant.  An instant, the moment.  The moment...potentially.  Chance worthy.  And opportune.<em>If cards could be played right</em>.  If and only if...<br/><br/>What was the forecast for tonight anyhow?<em>Mostly clear skies</em>.<em>Low 68F</em>.<em>Winds NNW at 5 to 10mph</em>.  Uh oh.  Seems like the<em>leaf</em>might not be, that.  Free.  After all...<br/><br/>But then, are<em>leaves</em>-- anything or anyone -- ever.  Actually.  Unhindered?  Can the singular, much less manyment, be just that.  Unrestrained?  Unchained?  Unbounded?<br/><br/>Free.<br/><br/>Inside.  Deep inside.  Must a heart.  The spirit.  Must it ever be able to be.  That of its own.  Desire.  Hopes and dreams.  And not, belonging.  Elsewhere?  Was there a possibility for a<em>leaf's</em>.  Amibition.  To be greater than the preordained.  Pathway.<em>To fall off from the tree</em>.<em>And die</em>.  Could there NOT be more in LIFE than that?  Should there not be?  If there wasn't.  What.  Was.  The.  Point?  A<em>leaf</em>-- silly, simple lowly at that -- had...<em>feelings</em>, didn't it?  It<em>deserved</em>more.  Right?<br/><br/>Shh.  Perk your ear up.  And listen closely.  That's not the wind.  That's not the Ocean.  Or a Volcano.  Even the Desert.  It's a<em>leaf</em>.  Whispering about<em>its</em>hopes and dreams.  And longings.  Outside of itself.  Mostly about<em>photosynthesis</em>.  The conversion of energy, from...<br/><br/><em>Light</em>.  Sometimes that's all a little<em>leaf</em>wants.  Or needs.  In its life.  Love...in the form of.  Yes.  Light...<br/><br/>It was a stop.  Which meant.  The week --<em>this</em>one -- was over.  There needn't be a hunt.  For him.   He was much too practiced, to not.  Cover his tracks.  Expertly, now-a-days.  No, neither search nor obligation -- even<em>desire</em>-- to go out of his.  Way.  And find...<em>trouble</em>.  Not at the moment.  It was, after all, the end of the week.  With no...pressing endeavors to.  Tend to.  Or simply get caught up within.  A time and a place.  Now?  He wanted the nothing to do.  With, anything.  Except maybe some.  Relaxation...<br/><br/>The layover was more.  Or.  Less, time for a breather.  This place, this part of the city....where ever that was exactly.  Would do just as well.  To break.  Apart.  And steal away from any<em>business transactions</em>and<em> professional dealings</em>he might seek out, by.  Instinct.  Sometimes, one has a calling.  Inside.  And such cannot -- for the<em>life</em>of them -- go unheard.  Unnoticed.  Or unanswered.  Not in his...trade.  Not by the likes of unsavory, powerful folk as.<em>Silvermane</em>.  Or even far more<em>dark</em>and<em>mysterious</em>presences, from the.  Past...<br/><br/>If time had taught him any a thing, it was.  To bide his time.  Patiently.  Know all that one -- he -- could possibly encompass on.  A target.  Person.  Object.  After all, clever is the one, that finds the<em>cheese</em>without getting.  Caught.  In the trap.  Yes, but.  Brilliantly...thorough is the other, who not only bypassed the original ruse.  But.  Also, found the source of the.<em>Cheese factory</em>itself.  Or getting a<em>free pass</em>.  All night.  At a<em>brothel</em>.  Also, nothing short of.  Brilliant.<br/><br/>Even so.<br/><br/>"Help!"  A cry.  Sudden.  Earnest.  Scared..closeby.<br/><br/>Hmph.  This particular street, this dingy area.  Felt a bit run down.  And<em>seedy</em>.  Perhaps, lingering too long.  Would benefit the no one.  Least, and.  Most.  Himself.  But still...<br/><br/><em>Striiiiike</em>.  The match.<br/><br/><em>Puff</em>.<em>Pufff</em>.<br/><br/><em>Inhale</em>.<br/><br/>The moment when he couldn't take to enjoying a.<em>Marlboro</em>Cigarette.  Was one, he wanted the no part of.  Leaning back, against.  The weatherworn building with.  Paint chips falling off the door.  Graffiti splotched over some, around this.  Establishment with a neon pink logo overhead.<em>The Brazen Fox</em>.<br/><br/><em>Exhale</em>.<br/><br/>It would do.  To hold him up.  For it was getting late.  And...<br/><br/>"Uhhh, whadduya complainin' about?"  Someone else...<br/><br/>"That's right! It's time you gave us our own lil' performance. Ain't that right boyz?"  More.  Strangers.  In the night.  He couldn't have been more.  Disinterested.  And uninvolved.<br/><br/><em>Inhale</em>.<br/><br/>The time for departure had practically come.  It was--<br/><br/>"Please someone!  Mmmpphhh--"  The...first -- a<em>woman's</em>-- voice?  Around the corner.  Down the alley, from the sound of it.  Was<em>she</em>...<br/><br/><em>Exhale</em>.<br/><br/>He stood straight.  Up, pressing.  Away from the wall.  And took a step.  In the direction.  Of<em>her</em>voice, craning his neck.   Around the corner.  Spotting<em>her</em>.  Victimized.  And in danger.   Four men.  He couldn't make out much of the<em>girl</em>.  Besides.  Ringlets of golden honey, and<em>her</em>.  Doe eyed.  Tears...<br/><br/><em>Inhale</em>.<br/><br/>Something.  Inside.  A trigger, from.  Within.  It....what<em>was</em>it?  This, this type of situation.  Didn't present itself to him.  For him.  Much, if at all.  But what about it...what specifically about it called to him?  People.  Was it<em>her</em>?  He didn't KNOW<em>her</em>.  At least he didn't think so, though he couldn't be sure.  Not with so little a glance.  What about them?  The four men on the attack?  What was different?  What was the connection?  What...communicated to him.  Internally.  In a way, that could only best be described.  Possibly.  As...from and to the.<br/><br/>Heart?<br/><br/>Was it<em>her</em>eyes?<em>Her</em>hair?<em>Her</em>tears...what did he<em>see</em>in them?<br/><br/><em>Exhale</em>.<br/><br/>It didn't matter.  Not one bit.<em> She</em>would NOT cry anymore.  Not if he could help it!  Approaching the assailants from the rear of.  End, his cigarette to be.  Flicked aside, and his voice.  Announced.  More to the immediate comfort of the<em>girl</em>.  But also, to initiate.  Control, "Ev'ryone can relax.<em>GAMBIT</em>has arrived!"<br/><br/>The two closest to the<em>Cajun</em>jerked.  Around.  To his presence.  Too late, for his left hand had all ready released the glowing.<em>Ace of Hearts</em>..<br/><br/><em>Fizzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzizzzzzzizzzzziizzzzzzzzzz--BOOOOOOOOOMMMmmmm</em>!<br/><br/>Both sent.  Flying, unto opposite walls.  From the explosion.  Releasing<em>her</em>, the others attempted to have a go.  At him.  But he was<em>all ready</em>on THEM...<br/><br/><em>CraaaAAaackk</em>!  Of the<em>metal bo staff</em>.   Upside the head of one.  In his right hand.<br/><br/><em>Swiiiiiiiiiiiiipe--BASSHHHHH</em>!  The last one.<br/><br/>It happened so fast, he didn't even perspire.  And they didn't have the chance to.  React.  Besides, afterwards, the audibles in.  Pain..<br/><br/>Then there was his.<em>Damsel</em>.<em>In distress</em>.  For whom, he extended his hand out.  To help<em>her</em>up.  And reassure<em>her</em>.  Non verbally.  Of<em>her</em>safety.<br/>========================================================================<br/><strong>Friday Late Night.</strong><br/><br/>"There's a professor out in<em>Westchester</em>.  He...has a 'school for the gifted'.."  She spoke quietly, her finger tips lost in his chest hair.  He cast his gaze down upon her.  She was in his embrace.  On the bed.<br/><br/>"Why you tell<em>Gambit</em>dis,<em>chere</em>?"  She tilted her head up.<br/><br/>"Earlier.  Outside.  When you helped me.  I saw what you could do..."  He watched her intently.  Then blinked.<br/><br/>"Ahh.  Dat.  Was jus' to get into de panties, non?"  She opened her mouth wide in mock astonishment before playfully smacking his chest.  He flashed her a cheeky grin.<br/><br/>"I was referring to your<em>power</em>, and not your penis."  She smiled.  He didn't speak.  She continued, "You aren't the only one that has a<em>gift</em>....although...I very rarely use it, unless I'm on stage.  I've just never seen anyone else---"<br/><br/>"<em>Gambit</em>heard 'nough.  No more of de talk."  He began to rise...<br/><br/>"Fine.  Okay, I'll stop.  Aren't you going to at least stay the night with me?  I'd feel less of a slut that way!"  She positioned herself upon him, mashing her breasts against his body, beckoning him.<br/><br/>"Of course,<em>chere</em>.  Of course."  He pressed his lips to hers once more, leading her onto her back with him atop....<br/>========================================================================<br/><strong>Friday Late Late Night. [Xavier's School of the Gifted, NYC]</strong><br/><br/>The Faded White<em>Volkswagen Beetle</em>reared up the driveway to the mansion, from<em>Graymalkin Lane</em>.  Putting it in park, he exited.  The tall Gateways loomed ahead before him.  One more glance at the vehicle.  She wouldn't mind.<em>DAZZLE</em>was on her license plate.  He scaled the height of metal.  Up.  And over.<br/>========================================================================<br/><strong>Saturday Early Morning.</strong><br/><br/>[continued/relocated here (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=319012.msg15392310#msg15392310)]