xp_logs | Log: Lorna/Remy

Set this afternoon. Remy drops in on Lorna after avoiding her for weeks, expecting the worst. Despite totally bungling it, Lorna is there again to help him find his feet.

While he wouldn't admit it, even at gun point, but Remy had been avoiding Lorna since his sickness. Her fortunate trip to the Caribbean had been a welcome break. But she was back, and Remy was out of excuses for himself and her. So that was how he found himself loitering outside her door, a small bouquet of spring flowers in one hand, and a head full of doubt on what to say. He mouthed silent thanks that no one had seen him pacing back and forth like a nervous suitor.

From the end of the hallway, Lorna watched Remy shuffle nervously outside her suite and quickly hid a smile. She shifted the laundry basket on her hip and started toward him, "Are those for Alex? He'll be touched, though he likes tropical flowers better."

Remy LeBeau was one of the most intensely trained professionals in the mansion. His years of experience and knowledge made him almost entirely unshockable. Only that just stopped him from an undignified squeak of surprise when Lorna appeared. Just.

"Ah, Lorna. Chere. Um, bonjour. I, uh, here, let Remy help wit' dat."

"It's okay, I've got it." She tilted her head at her door and it swung open, her smile still carefully suppressed though her eyes were mirthful. She gestured him in before her, keeping hold of the basket. "What brings you by?"

Remy stepped into the room, turning to make sure she was in and not colliding with her solely do to his powers. This was not going well, and god, he could use a cigarette.

"I thought dat, well, I, uh, I got you dese." He thrust out the small bouquet awkwardly, shifting nervously. "Dey not very good, uh, but de-- well, just a roadside stall. You know, by Harry's. I was-- Remy thought you might like dem. Not dat you have to." In the back of Remy's mind, he was mentally broadcasting offers of millions for any telepath in range to kill him now.

Lorna sidestepped him when he stopped abruptly and set her basket down, nudging it out of the way with her foot before taking the flowers. "Thank you, they're beautiful." She leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Is this for a particular occasion or do you want something or what?" She said it without suspicion or resentment. Her trip had clearly been good for her stress levels.

"I thought dat-- uh, can I sit down?" Lorna nodded and Remy gratefully sank into the chair, fingers twitching nervously. "Oui. Merci. Um,"

He pointed at the flowers and nodded, as if it said anything. "I got you dose because," He paused, took a deep breath, and plunged. "I wanted to say dat I'm sorry. You right, chere. Remy been dumping things on you 'cause I was too scared to face dem. And dat's not fair to you 'specially. Remy also know dat you got every right to tell me to go to hell." It was a sure sign of nervousness when he fell deeply into third person. "If dat's de case, I just want you to know dat Remy 'gree wit' you chere. But, uh..."

Another deep breath, his eyes never meeting hers. "But don't. Please."

Lorna watched him for a second then shook her head and sat down on the arm of the chair and ruffled his hair. "You're a degenerate little man with a terrible past who smokes entirely too much. But you're still my friend and I can look past all that if you're willing to move past it." She smiled, "I don't want you to go to hell. That's why I'm so mad at you when you try to tell me you belong there."

"Dat uh, dat seems to be de problem." Remy's nervous twitches slowed slightly. "I don't know what to do, Lorna. I mean, it's like de part in everyone at de mansion dat involves life is empty in mine. Nothing dere."

"You know, there's a point where I feel like I start repeating myself pretty much any time we talk but here goes again. I know you don't. That's why I'm sitting here, as your friend, offering to help. Just like I did when you came back to the mansion with your head all banged up and told me that you didn't know how to deal. And I'll bet that Amanda would offer the same. You're not alone in this, Remy. No one is." She smiled again and hopped off the chair. "I'm going to put my flowers in water. Do you want something to drink?"

"You have no idea how good dat sounds. But Remy take a coffee if you have it." Remy started to relax a bit, realizing that even how much of a shit he'd been, Lorna wasn't cutting him loose. "See, de new wrinkle in de plan is dat-- well, oui. I need help. Because otherwise, de only things of worth were things dat Gambit built. And I'm tired of living look dat."

"If I have it? Who do you think you're talking to exactly?" Lorna got him his coffee before arranging her flowers in a pretty blue metal vase, a little more modern than her usual taste. She set the flowers in the center of the table and grinned at them then looked over at Remy. "Here's the thing. You can't beat yourself up for not having anything to build on. You haven't really had the opportunity after all."

"Non. What I can beat myself up for is running away from dat. It's easier to play de monster card den face de rest. Maybe I won't like who I turn out to be." Remy took a long sip from the cup, starting to settle a little. "Hell, maybe it's just 'cause it's too big looking at it right now. I don't know what to do."

"First thing that I'd suggest is to stop looking at it like it's something you've got to script out." Lorna got herself a cup of coffee as well and took a seat at the small kitchen table. "Don't worry about who you turn out to be. It's not like you're going to be that person tomorrow. Just think about what you want to be today. We do this section in Phil," and she laughed because it was still weird to think that she was a teacher even having been one for two years, "this section on ethics. It's not really part of the normal intro to philosophy curriculum but I like covering it. Anyway, once we sort through relativism and Kant and all the new theories we get back to the dead greeks and value ethics. Have you ever read Plato, Remy?"

"Not exactly." Remy said. "I killed a guy name Plato once, but I don't think dat counts." It was a feeble attempt at a joke, but at least it was an attempt.

She rolled her eyes at him, "Virtue ethics isn't like most ethical systems. You look at Kant and it's all about the moment and the action. Is this thing something I want to be a universal law, etc. The decision is the point. Virtue ethics is the other way around. You don't pick each decision as good or bad, right or wrong. You live your life in a way that makes those decisions more obvious. So if you don't want to be Gambit anymore, don't live like you are. Make sense?"

"'cept how do I do dat when de biggest part of my life involves doing de things dat I learned as Gambit? And when I'm not on de job or in de field... I don't know what to do dere." Remy said, obviously listening.

"There's got to be a line. Someplace where what you learned as Gambit and how far you're willing to go is defined. And there's a line between working and the rest of your life. You already have it drawn, you just need to shore it up. " She shrugged, "I can't tell you what to do, Remy. It does you no good to let someone else dictate your life. "

"Damn. Here I was hoping you'd have a timeline or something laid out." Remy finished off his cup. "So, where do I start? Dat something you can tell me?"

"Well, I like the part where I get flowers. Start by figuring out how you want the world to be. Then live your life in a way that brings that about. More coffee?" She held out her hand for his mug, already half out of her chair.

"Oui. You know something sad, chere? Remy don't know what kind of music I like. Or books. Art. Do I have a favourite television show?" Remy accepted the refreshed cup with a nod. "All the little threads dat tie somebody into dere lives. Dat's where I feel I'm lost."

Lorna laughed, "Remy, seriously, are you listening to yourself? You don't know what kind of music you like? Who cares? No one is required to have a list of favourites that they can rattle off every time someone asks. Heck the only thing I can tell you about my favourites is that I don't like the color green all that much and I'm not crazy about orange either." She shook her head and leaned against the counter, "Those things can't be forced or plotted. You just have to let them grow. And even if you get them set, they're going to change."

"But dats a process dat you have your whole life to be involved in. Mine started... eight months ago. It's frightening, Lorna. I sit and watch people doing things. Just being, and it's like it doesn't make sense to me. I focus on the job all de time because dat's at least something dat I know." His sudden seriousness underlined his concern. After eight months, his room had all the personality of a motel suite, and only the odd time did he ever seem to look honestly relaxed.

"Whine about it a little more and see if that helps," Lorna suggested, not unsympathetically. "Honestly, I don't know what to tell you. There's no fast track to learning to be a person no matter what all the sci-fi movies want you to believe. The only way to figure out who you are is not to hide from yourself."

"And de wheel goes round." He muttered, looking into his coffee cup. "'pose it'd be cheating to just ask one of de telepaths to 'drop in' a personality, neh?"

"Yes, that's very much cheating and might cause the teenagers in the mansion to demand equal treatment which would be a terrible mess." Taking a sip of her coffee, she studied him over the rim, trying to figure out what to do. "What do you like about the place in France?"

"Peace. Dere's nothing dishonest dere, nothing dangerous." Remy said quietly. "Maybe two hundred people, just quietly living."

"What about that appeals to you? It sounds boring to me." Lorna was only exaggerating a little bit. It did sound like a nice place to visit but live there? Not in a place without a mall.

"You ever floated in a pool of water in de dark before? Just lay there and drifted?" Remy said, trying to explain with words he didn't have. "It's like everything goes away except what's in your head. Wit' my training, my powers, dere is always de job in my head. Every street is a threat, a combat zone, a dozen different things to follow. There, I can't do that. All of dat just goes away. It's... simple." He finished, lamely. "I'm not explaining dis well."

She smiled, remembering doing just that on several occasions. "You're explaining fine. So if the job goes away, what's left? Who are you when you're there that gets covered up when you're not?"

"I don't remember. Dere's... holes in my memory. De scenes are dere, but a lot of de feelings aren't. I just remember dat feeling of, well, being complete somehow." Remy shook his head. "And I guess dat's why it's important to me, because I don't feel complete anywhere right now. I guess I'm scared dat I never will."

"Start small and focus on what you do know. You like me, so clearly you have excellent taste in people." She grinned, "and you like Amanda so-- I don't know what that means, actually. You're an incorrigible flirt which is either a survival tactic or a personality trait, probably both. And you've got good instincts about buying flowers. What else?" She waved her mug at him, indicating that he should continue.

"I'm astonishingly good in bed. Dat count?" Remy smiled at the scowl Lorna gave him. "Not sure. But maybe you right, chere. Least dat's a place to start. See, dat's what happens when you de nice one. You get de crazy people latched on you."

Lorna giggled, "I'm not actually that nice. You just think I am because I happen to like you."

"As long as you willing to put up wit' Remy, I'm willing to delude myself dat you nice. Deal?"

"You go right ahead," Lorna said magnanimously. "I'm not going to complain about someone thinking I'm much nicer than I am. Means you'll be that much more likely to say yes when I ask for favors."

"Figured you knew dat already, chere." Remy got up, placing his coffee mug on the counter. "Merci, Lorna. For not giving up on me. I don't think you know how important dat is."

She shrugged, "Maybe not but I know that it's important that someone have faith in you when you don't have any in yourself. And it's the least I can do to return the faith."

"So, uh, you're not going to tell anyone 'bout dat scene in de hallway, oui?"

"What scene in the hallway?"

"Dat's why you de queen, chere." Remy said, dropping a kiss on her hand before disappearing out the door.