xp_logs | Into Africa | Ororo and Remy

Remy arrives in Africa and seeks out the village where Ororo is staying.

"It is very hot for you, my friend. Too hot, I think." Joseph Ndorobo said with a wide, white grin as his jeep sped over the grassland plains. Remy only grunted, sitting back in his chair and idly watching Africa fly past. After years of field work, too much of it in Africa, the heat rarely touched him.

"You sure dat you know where we're going?" he asked for the dozenth time. It paid to be cautious. Behind them in the back were several extra tanks of gas and water, supplies, and a hunting rifle. Getting lost or breaking down had a tendency to lead to death in these areas. Especially now, in the hot dry season.

"Of course. GPS!" Joseph tapped the black box clipped on the front of his dash with obvious pride. "Finally had a chance to pick up some for my whole business. Many savings with it. Our maps, they are fiction at times. This makes us safe." Ndorobo's business was poaching. He had built up a solid pipeline providing all manner of animals to the foreign market, especially Asia. Unlike most of the men that sought their fortune out of Africa's animal wealth, Ndorobo was a rare combination of both foresighted and restrained.

The slash and kill methods used by most poachers where the worst stupidity to a man raised in the coffee plantations to the north. It was like cutting up your crops to harvest the beans. Better to make a moderate amount of money over a long time then a lot of money just once. Joseph had inherited prudence from his father, and applied that to how he met his clients demands. He even had many of the rangers who worked the sprawling reserves armed out of his own pocket, using them to help remove his more hasty competition. Joseph was a Kalenjin, a sprawling tribe that ran from the Sinai down into South Africa. Through the nineties, he had been a valuable information resource, but had been let go by the Agency during budget cuts in 2001. He'd been happy to renew the relationship with Gambit, exchanging information and services for generous compensation.

"Good to keep dat in mind." Remy hated working in Africa. The entire continent was treacherous, with a dangerous combination of poverty, tribal infighting and bloody opportunitism that could turn an old friend into foe at a fatal moment. He wasn't worried much about Joseph; he was paid regularly for his information, without difficulties. Like his poaching, Joseph was smart enough to make a moderate amount of money over a long period, rather than selling Remy out for a quick dollar now. But that didn't mean the rest of his group felt the same. "How did you end up finding her?"

"Pretty young woman with white hair?" Ndorobo said pointedly. It was hard for Ororo to just disappear, especially into the cultural of Africa. News traveled as fast by gossip as by phone, which had eventually led Joseph to find her. Remy didn't speak Nandi, Ndorobo's language, but he was familiar with the cadence, and it was a common tongue to hear in Nairobi.

Ndorobo had been traveling for a while into a decidedly greener area, the grassland lusher and well watered compared to the bare ground and scrub of the region they had just passed. "A good year." He commented, while Remy just scowled. After another hour, Joseph pulled the jump up beside a small river, a creek anywhere other than Africa, and stopped. "This is your way, Gambit. Follow the banks up about a mile. I will wait until tomorrow morning. Make sure you return by then. You're not the only predator here."

Remy nodded, mute, and set off up the river, following it up towards signs of people.
Though the river was usually a haven for life of all kind, be it plant or animal, the going was nevertheless not too difficult as Remy trekked north. The greenery that spread out from the water source was still new and short; in some places little more than a verdant carpet of tiny young plants. The air was still, though it was more the silence of a predator waiting than a true lack of sound.

It was not difficult to see why the African savannas still remained a tourist destination despite the danger and considerable cost of getting there. Once you arrived it was easy to forget about densely-packed cities and the bustle of everyday life. Things moved at their own pace here, and it was impossible not to be taken in by this vastly different environment. Small trees that could be a century old popped up every so often along the landscape, surveying the surrounding area and providing shelter and food for the animals that lived nearby. The wide-open plains and sky stretched out as a testament to vast unspoiled emptiness, and the underbrush buzzed and rustled with insects and small animals.

As Remy neared the small settlement he began to see more signs of human life – a sharpened stick leaning carelessly against a large rock, the scuff of footprints in the dirt, and then suddenly a thatched hut, half-hidden in the curve of a wizened tree. A face peered at him from within, dark eyes suspicious and unwelcoming. Within a minute a few tall, graceful figures had materialized out of the village behind the hut, standing implacably where there had been no one before. They were dressed in beautifully-decorated fabric, wrapped in such a way as to cover them but still allow a full range of motion. The lead man narrowed his eyes at Remy, one hand wrapped around a heavy spear, the butt of which rested on the ground. When he spoke, it was not in Kikuyu or Swahili, but rather a heavily-accented version of English. "What do you want here?"

Remy regarded them for a moment, eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. Here, in the midst of danger, he was Gambit. There was a deep knowledge that the men would have no hesitation killing him and stripping his body for anything useful if they felt they could. There was no law beyond that of the tribe to stop them, and he was an outsider. But the reverse was true as well, and LeBeau had long experience at radiating menace when he wanted to.

"You have a newcomer here." He said finally. Both groups were openly suspicious of each other, which was how it should be. Anyone who had approached them pretending to be a friend would deserve what they received. "She's only been here a few weeks of this season. I need to speak with her."

"Then speak with her." The man seemed almost scornful, and a murmur passed through the rest of the group, followed by a low round of laughter. "What do you want from us? We do not control her."

"It is your village." Remy said, ignoring the laughter at his expense. "Should I seek her out through my own means, or will you direct me to her?"

He switched tactics. The hostility was still there from them, but not the eminent threat. Minor cultural issues could get dangerous fast, which he hoped the initial position had at least forestalled. He wasn't an easy victim but he also had to not be a threat yet.

There was another frisson of the group as they shifted to speak to one another, glancing occasionally at Remy over their shoulders. They seemed to be discussing much more than simple directions, and it was some time before the leader turned back to him. "She is not here now. She has gone to speak to the sky. We will not let you wait here, but we will tell her of your coming."

Fly five thousand miles only to find out she's not home. Great. "I'll be down on de plains, near de river." He took off his sunglasses, fixing them with his red on black stare. "On de plains. Time is a factor."

_________

The reunion is less than joyful.

A white man with strange eyes and the manner of a hungry lion. Well, the strange eyes narrowed it down some, and the last part was even more specific, but... Ororo shook her head, feeling the whisper of the grasses brushing against her legs as she made way across the flat land. It couldn't be.

A visitor was the last thing she had expected all the way out here, but apparently someone had gone to the time and trouble of tracking her down. And not just someone, but Remy. What could he want? In the distance, she could see the unmistakable figure of a lone human being sitting apparently at ease on the gently-sloping banks of the river. Steeling herself, Ororo approached, and the clouds overhead seemed to gather a bit more quickly as she neared the river.
"Quite de vacation, Stormy." He said as she approached, sitting with his elbows resting easily on his knees. Despite the pale skin and auburn hair, Remy moved with a casual competence that seemed to mark him as something other than an outsider. He moved in the wild with the same assurance he did in the city, something either born from training or long experience.

LeBeau got up, carefully settling his hat back on, to provide some protection against the beating sun. Ororo seemed to simply ignore it.

She placed her hands on her hips, which were covered in the same rich material the men from the village had worn. Her waist and shoulders were bare - perhaps a concession to the sun, or perhaps merely a return to something she had known before. "I was enjoying it," she told him, chin raised in silent challenge. "But I did not expect to see you here."

"I can't imagine dat you would. It's not really on de subway line." Remy said offhandedly. Her whole posture was combative, in a sense. She didn't expect to see him here, and he could tell she didn't like it already. Well, that would make things easier if his suspicions were correct.

"So when does de safari end? When do you get back to de school and de X-Men?"

"I am scheduled to return by New Year's Day," Ororo told him, her phrasing oddly noncommittal. A breeze rippled the grasses around them lightly, growing firmer as it ruffled the surface of the water and then moved beyond. "If there is something you need, Remy, you can address it with Scott. You know that."

"Dat's only a couple of days from now. You don't have a ticket booked, or arrangements made to get back into Nairobi, 'less you planning to fly de whole way." Remy gestured to the area around him, confirming his own suspicions. "And it's de hot, dry season, and you've prematurely jumpstarted dis area into spring."

He removed his sunglasses, tucking them into his shirt pocket, using the activity to cover the final clicking of pieces into place. "So, when do you really plan on leaving?"

If Ororo could've looked any more put out, she would've; as it were, her frown deepened and her posture grew even more defensive. "I do not see what business it is of yours. I cannot understand why you came here, Remy. What I choose to do here is my business, and I do not think it is fair for you to insinuate anything. I did not come to France when you were there and question your motives... Can I not have any peace?"

"Can't answer dat. Why are you running away, 'Ro?" He was trying to spare her, but the sick feeling in his stomach told LeBeau that he wasn't going to get that option. Mentally he braced himself. If all he was good at was hurting people, than he'd better at least do it right. "And why haven't you told dem yet dat's what you doing?"

"I am not..." Ororo took a deep breath, refusing to look away from Remy despite the almost-overwhelming urge to turn her back on him and walk away. "That is not what I am doing," she said more levelly. "I am on vacation. I have not done so in over a year and I intend to make the most of my time here. I am not running away." She sounded almost convinced of this fact. Almost.

"Except for de fact dat you a little too good of a gardener to not know dat if you leave when you say you going to, de next year is going to be hell for dese people, because de plants dat weren't supposed to come up until after de dry season are going to wither and die before dey can seed." Remy had taken some time to check sources once his suspicions had been raised, and a South African botanist had confirmed that the unusual weather patterns would likely disrupt the normal yearly cycle of growth and harvest in the area.

"Something which would worry me more, save for the small fact that without my intervention, most of these people would likely not live to see the next season." Ororo's tone was uncharacteristically harsh, almost conceited. She eyed Remy with none of her usual politeness and tact. "They were slowly dying. Now at least they will have a chance at survival."

"As long as you don't keep your scheduled return date home, neh?" Remy scowled, shaking his head. She started to say something, but he cut her off. "Look, Stormy, you want to say dat it's none of my business or to go to hell, dat's fine. But try to remember dat I'm not an idiot, and I uncover lies for a living. When de hell did you decide dat you're not going back to de mansion?"

"When I realized I did not belong there," Ororo snapped before she was able to stop herself.

"And dis is any better? Some back of beyond dry river bed in Kenya is your place in life?" The air around them was growing charged, but he ignored it. "I don't buy it, 'Ro."

"You should; you are the one who helped me realize it." Ororo's eyes began to frost over, her hair to stand up with some invisible force. "I know now I will never fit in at Xavier's... I am who I always was. Just as you cannot ignore your past, so I cannot pretend mine is behind me." Dark clouds gathered overhead, a low rumble of thunder heralding their arrival. Even at her most distracted, Ororo normally didn't reflect her emotions in the weather around her. But a reconnection with her past had awoken that tendency - and it was building even faster now.

"Running away to play Mother Goddess isn't reconnecting wit' you past, 'Ro. It's just running away." Remy almost spit the words out, as the wind began to pick up around him. He ignored it, pushing on. "And if you didn't know dat was de case, you would have already told de school dat's de case. But you didn't, because you know den you have to face it when you try and make yourself believe it while explaining why."

"And I suppose you have all the answers, Remy? Since you know so well where everything belongs." With a twist in her stomach Ororo fought back a flash of memory - the smell of flowers and coffee, the sound of words that had echoed in her mind since they were first uttered. Beyond that, the overwhelming memory of exhaustion, always running, the taste of blood, mingled on her lips and tongue. A gust of wind blew against Remy, strong enough to knock him off his feet.

Remy sprawled in the dust for a second, noticing the dark clouds forming above them and the wind whipping around the few trees. He got back to his feet slowly, bracing himself against the gale.

"Don't give me dat crap, Stormy. I don't know what you want or need. I do know dat you don't even think dis is. It's in your eyes." Remy pointed at her accusingly. "If you want to abandon everything, dat's you choice. But at least be honest wit' yourself and everyone else why. Don't feed dem de same self-righteous line 'bout finding yourself."

"I find it hard to believe you came all this way to spout out some platitudes about 'being true to oneself'," Ororo replied, her voice seeming to reach him just fine despite the racing winds. "What do you want?" She couldn't believe anyone would spend that much time and effort tracking her down merely to stand and berate her for her own choices... he must want something. That was what they all did - wanted things, impossible or not. And they all expected her to deliver, despite the fact that she wasn't always able to.

"I was planning to stop you from being an idiot, Stormy." Remy had to brace himself against the wet wind. Rain was already starting to slant down from the cloud around them; fat drops being carried and whipped by her tempest. It didn't matter how bad it got. He wasn't going to walk away yet. "You can't stay here."

"It is not your decision!" she shouted, feeling the slight sting of the raindrops against her bare skin. "It is mine, and for once I will do what I want without feeling guilty." A flash of lightning illuminated the quickly-darkening skies, and a low growl of thunder echoed her words. "This is who I am, Remy; I understand if you cannot accept that, but nor can you change it."

"You can't stay here." Remy said, and the lightning bolt grounded itself less than ten feet to his right, throwing him from his feet. He hit hard and rolled, coming up on his hands and feet in the dirt, bright flashes seared into his vision. She actually-- "Dat is fucking it!"

LeBeau was on his feet and closed with her in a heart beat, nose to nose as he yelled over the tempest. "I am not one of you fuckin' friends, Stormy! You think dat Remy going to just accept dat you busy throwing away everything because it suddenly got hard? Dat's too damn bad!"

"You cannot do this! You cannot come here after all that has happened and order me back where you want me!" Ororo seethed. "This is where I want to be, and this is where I will be, and nothing you can say is going to change that. You gave that right up when you made me into a mistake... now I am back where things make sense again, and you cannot touch me. So go away, Remy, for you are not wanted here!" She reached out and placed her hands on his chest, giving him a hard shove. The ground underneath them both was slick with mud, and they both staggered back, the wind taking advantage of every shift in balance and buffeting them harder.

Her shove, along with the wind, pulled Remy's legs from under him, and he went down in the mud. The rain was sleeting down hard now, slanting with the gales and swelling the river. He quelled his first urge, to take her out at the knees, bring her down into the mud and truss her up to take back for her own good. But she was right. He had no right to force her to do anything with her life, and the picture of her as angry goddess was strikingly believable. Why shouldn't she feel this was what should be?

Remy pulled the envelope from the large packets of the bush jacket and climbed to his feet. She'd never forgive him for this, but it didn't matter. "You're killing people, 'Ro." He pulled the papers out, blessing Doug for digging up the photopaper to print on.

The rain didn't stop, but it did seem to lessen ever so slightly as his words reached her. "What did you say?" Ororo asked, eying him with a blank and unreadable gaze.
He held out the pages, suddenly feeling very weary. "You're creating new micro-climates and disrupting normal weather patterns. It's mostly contained to Kenya so far, but de signs are dat de effects are growing. De rains on de coastal regions are over a week late, and cloudbursts have been creating flashfloods in de arroyos through de savanna."

Go on, LeBeau. It's what you're good at. Remy's face hardened "Dere, uh... dere have been some deaths."

"Deaths?" Ororo stepped forward, reaching for the papers he held. Her fingers curled around the pages as she scanned them, the details there plain as day. Remy was right; her interference was disturbing the surrounding areas and leading to strange and unusual patterns - ones she should have noticed if she had been honest with herself.

Abruptly the rains faded, the clouds dissipating almost as quickly as they had formed. Ororo stood, wet and bedraggled, unable to meet Remy's eyes once she had finished reading. "I should have known," she murmured, fingers clenching and crumpling the papers. "I should have felt it."
"Oui." He couldn't spare her anything now. Not if he was going to get her out of here. "You should have. De same wit' dis place. Dere aren't any easy answers for us."

He put his hands in his pockets, trying to stop them fidgeting. He'd lost Lorna months ago. Now he was going to lose another friend. The list was starting to get very short for him. "Dere's a ticket waiting for you in Nairobi. I've got some friends dat will arrange for aid up here, until de weather gets back to normal. Go home, Stormy. Go home and do your damn job."

"Stop it!" There was no lightning, no gust of wind accenting her words, but they carried the same weight as she put every bit of frustration and anger she was feeling into them. Her eyes were normal when she lifted them to his face, but there was a hint of turmoil behind them that Remy had never seen before. "I do not want help, Remy, nor do I need it. I have caused these things and I will rectify them myself. You are the one who should go home and do your job - you do not belong here." She let out a shuddering breath, squeezing her hands into tight fists. "Go away."

Remy jaw tightened as he clamped down on the urge to yell right back. If she was going to be stupid and stubborn, there wasn't anything else that he had left to say to stop her. He nodded sharply and turned around, starting to walk away. He stopped for a second, but didn't look back as he spoke.

"I've got Doug monitoring de weather patterns for de next while. Don't make me have to come back here." Remy said, not threateningly, but without any kindness either. It was a dead tone, very much one that said whatever friendship they'd once had wouldn't matter if it came to that.

His only reply was a cold gust of wind that came up behind him like a draft over a grave. Ororo turned and began to stalk the other way, fighting to keep from screaming and crying all at once. She had finally found one thing that fulfilled her, made her happy, and even that was forbidden to her. She had no idea what would come next, but one thing she knew. She would not be going back. If there was one thing Remy's visit had impressed on her, it was that she didn't belong back there, nor could she face them with this on her conscience. No, he had taken that from her, just as he had tried to take Africa. And for that she would not forgive him.

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xp_daytripper

Ow. Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow. Brutal log, guys - reminded me a lot of the scene at the HFC when Remy pretty much did the same thing for Amanda. Great stuff. :)