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xp_logsRemy makes a visit to the mansion, to test Forge's latest security upgrades, and to talk about a potential threat.
At this early hour of the morning, Forge appreciated more than ever the side effect of his mutant power that reduced his need for sleep. Mostly because it meant that he was fully awake and alert at hours when all but a select few of the mansion's inhabitants were deep into the throes of REM sleep. That way, no one would walk in on him in the gym, taking out his pent-up frustration by methodically sinking free throw after free throw, one after the other, for an hour straight, until his shoulders burned and his one biological knee ached from the
repetition.
Shaking off the aches, he was headed upstairs when a buzz from his cell phone caught his attention. Curious, he checked the code and shrugged, heading down to the basement and the hardened security room.
As he tapped in the access code and listened to the door slide open, he pushed a lock of sweat-matted hair away from his eyes and glanced around, expecting to see Scott sitting by the console. "So what's the situation this time, boss? Another --"
The thin man sitting in the security station's chair, however, was definitely not Cyclops.
"Kuk used to keep an ashtray down here for me. It was easier." Remy said, blowing a plume of smoke past him in the darkness. The Cajun tossed a file down on the console in front of Forge. "I like de new sensors wit' de overlapping sectors. Limited, but effective wit' random incursions."
"Son. Of. A. Bitch."
Forge immediately walked past Remy to tap commands into the console. "One of these days, I swear I'm going to build something that you can't get through, oh great master thief. Well, the logs show..." He frowned, running back through the last six hours of automated security reports. "...well, shit. Overlapping seismic sensors, and I've had the wastewater pipes fitted with ten-centimeter filters, so you didn't crawl up the toilet - how did... no, never mind. I'm sure you've already left an outline somewhere. So what makes the secret shadow boss of the Snow Valley Irregulars break into my supposedly-hardened security room instead of just calling on the phone?"
"You did ask me to test your security. Remy tell you something, Forge. You keep missing de key aspect on what security really depends on." Remy said, leaning back in his chair. "Security is about people. Good security keeps dat in mind. De problem dat you having is dat you trying to make something secure when you never had to break into something before. Other den dat bit of bugging in Arcade's casino. You should take it in de other direction. Make youself break into one of dem."
"God, you're like my own little nicotine-scented shoulder devil, you know that?" Forge quipped, setting the system back to automatic, then leaning against one of the server racks to peer at Remy. "But I will keep that in mind. So, is this what passes for a social call, then?"
"Non. Dere's a new wrinkle to your security concerns dat Remy's noticed all of the sudden." LeBeau leaned back, looking slightly grim. "You started you cameras on Manuel?"
Forge bristled visibly. "Don't get me started on Manuel. So far I've been yelled at by Jennie, condescended to by Laurie, and nearly had a fight with my girlfriend concerning the rat bastard, suffice to say he's not my favorite person."
Ticking off points on his fingers, Forge continued. "He's unstable. He's manipulative. He's conniving. None of which, sadly, help me to convince the Professor that he's better off kept in a chemical coma for the greater good."
"Remy sure de Professor got his own reasons, but dat's not really important to me. What is important is dat you don't trust him. And if I know you, if you don't trust him, you going to be keeping an eye on him. Dat what's happening here?"
"In a nutshell," Forge confirmed. "But... argh. I know I can't let it be personal. Someone has to watch him, someone who knows how dangerous he is. That's my job, Remy. Everyone keeps hammering it in about how he deserves this chance to redeem himself and start over, but I'm not
sure they aren't opening the doors to a monster. But he hasn't done anything - yet."
Cautiously, Forge eyed the master thief with curiosity. "What's your angle in all this, then? So long as he doesn't topple Amanda right into a backslide to Gutter Junkie status again, I'm curious as to what your stake in Manuel's welfare is."
Remy shrugged. "In case you haven't noticed, dis is de place for monsters, Forge. More den a couple of us have needed dis place to have a shot." The Cajun pointed to the bank of screens. "But dat doesn't mean I need to trust him yet. At one point, not very long ago, Manuel was building himself into a genuine threat. Dis might be de start of some other plan of his, or it might be a real effort on his behalf. Remy not going to do anything to stand in de way of his chance to change if that's what he's sincere 'bout doing, and neither should you. But 'til you can be sure, dere should be someone watching him in here."
"There will be," Forge assured. "No question about that."
"Good. Den Remy's going to take care of de rest." LeBeau nodded. "Manuel doesn't deserve a second chance, but den again, neither did I, or Nate, or Betts; I actually hope he makes the best of it. But if he's got something else planned, or dere's a bigger picture, dis time, he's not going to fool anyone."
Forge nodded. "We're on the same sheet of music, then," he said. Clearing his throat, he motioned to the door. "I think there's some leftover home-cooked meatloaf in the fridge if you want a bite. Unless you've already pocketed it along with the family silver."
"Non, but Remy take it as a personal favour if you could turn off de cameras around Manuel's suite for a few hours? I've got one last piece of business to take care of before I leave."
Thinking for a moment, Forge nodded and tapped in a few commands. "You were never here," he said matter-of-factly. "And we're not having this conversation."
"You got a decent criminal mind dere, Forge. One day you got to give it a chance to experiment." The Cajun nodded and walked away.
Forge watched Remy leave, then turned his attention to the computer, swinging the chair around and pulling up various security feeds on the multiple monitors. Lit by the light from the displays, he reached under the desk to a small fridge and withdrew a can of soda, cracking it and draining it in one long pull. "Dammit, it's going to take me all week to figure out how you got in, you son of a bitch," he whispered, with a small smile. "I do so love a challenge."
Remy makes a trip to see a man he hasn't talked to in a very long time. When monsters meet...
Gripping the cane tightly, Manuel paused in the hallway, steadying the liquid of the hot tea he held in his hand. He had always been proud of the graces that had been instilled in him and the mannerisms that flowed from one solid movement into another without hesitation. Yet now, he hesitated. Grasping for some semblance of balance, juggling his weight on the cane and the awkward walk causing a spill every five feet. He'd be lucky if he had a full hot mug by the time he reached his room and it felt like an eternity to arrive there. Muir staff had always brought him tea for breakfast, for dinner and while they were not room service, they did bring him tea if they were making it for themselves. It was a minor detail that had grown into an aggravating impatience for his inability to manage a simple task. It forced him to stop, blow out a sigh along with an underlying curse while he stood at the guest room, trying to manage the effort of opening the door and not dropping the cup in the process. He was so tired that bending down to put the cup on the floor was not an option and used his arm to turn the knob after punching in the code.
"Manuel. Been some time." Remy LeBeau said, perched on a chair and looking completely relaxed in a room he'd obviously broken into. "Close de door. You and I need to have a talk."
He almost did drop the cup. "Most wait for an invitation. Not let themselves in. To what do I owe this violation of my privacy?" He let the door close and set the tea down by the table. The room was too small to sit on the bed and he supposed that Remy didn't mind making him uncomfortable. He choose to stand.
"Your existence, but dat should be obvious." The Cajun smiled at Manuel. "I see you got 'nother chance to come back. Swear, between de murderers, assassins, and general monsters, dis place is doing a lot of business in our kind."
He did not smile back. "I'm afraid you've worn out your welcome Remy. What do you want?"
"A hopefully short conversation." Remy pointed at the stack of files sitting on Manuel's desk. "Dat's you. All de things we know you did, plus some of de elements we reasonably sure you were involved in."
Turning his eyes, they fell on the stack and he took a long slow and patient breath through his nose before turning his gaze back on the Cajun. "Yes, I see that," he replied with an underlying tone of surprise. It shouldn't have surprised him, but it did.
"Wit' de Hellfire Club, making movements for advancement wit' de potential of using de school as a bargaining chip. De back and forth elements wit' you father, but not all your access cut off and not simple back doors either." Remy reached out and tapped the file. "Working wit' Gideon while he was actively against Nate and in de process, de school as well. You spent a lot of time while you were here actively working against de people here."
His back stiffened and his jaw set, tilting his chin up as he moved to sit. Pride wanted him to stand but physically he needed to sit and stay seated so there was little he could do but listen to Remy recount his past activities. "Yes."
"Now, dere's also all of de manipulations dat you went through wit' de people in here. Remy pretty sure dat Xavier not 'bout to put up wit' dat again, or even if he is, dere's others in here dat won't. Dat's not really de point or de reason dat I'm here." Remy settled his trenchcoat around him. "De person dat you were was developing into a threat to dis school and de people here to start, and a general bastard focused entirely on acquiring power in de long term."
Stupidity let irritation flicker in his eyes while intelligence had him keep his mouth shut concerning what was deemed 'manipulations'. "I'll spare you the repetitive speech of 'I-have-changed'. I realize who I was then. I do not know who I am now and to say otherwise would be a blatant lie. Considering you're not a telepath or an _Empath_, that I know of, you would not be able to tell the difference. I understand you've witnessed the times I've gone astray, moral perceptions warped, however, this is a break from my past." The inhibitor beeped and Manuel gritted his teeth.
"Getting angry, Manuel? Dat's when you used to use you powers; lash out. 'member when you turned Lorna into you puppet, burnt her hand raw and made her do you bidding. Or 'manda, all de times you made her pay for you being mad. Or helping keep Betts locked in her own head." Remy picked up another file. "And we both know dat dere's more den dat still there."
He opened the file and tossed a set of pictures on the desk in front of Manuel. "So how much you going to be like you father, neh? Or have you really changed? Dere's actually one thing dat I have to give you, Manuel. If you've changed, like you said, den dis whole life of who you were and de things you did are things dat you you going to have to live wit' for de rest of you life. Remy a monster too, and de memories of what Gambit did, nothing can every wash dat 'way."
Manuel didn't glance at the photos. He threw them off the bed onto the floor and the annoying beep of the inhibitor sounded again, sending a slight jolt up his arm to the fist he made. "And what would you have me do? _Beg_ for forgiveness of things I vaguely remember? I think not." The journals had worn him down and he had said as very little as possible to everyone to maintain peace. Now, Manuel had difficultly maintaining that control when it stared him in the face and all his past piled into one stack. "I live with them. Do not assume Remy. It's unbecoming of you. I've nothing to be proud of and nothing to prove."
"I think you missed de point, Manuel. Dat was pity. You can't make up for what you've done, any more den I can. If you've changed, dat's what you have looking forward to living with." Remy finally stood, and as always, the Cajun's sense of coiled menace was palpable. "But you do have something to prove."
He adjusted his coat again. "You have to prove dat you not who you are. Dat you not in de process of becoming a threat again. You see, Manuel, I will be watching you for all those little ties that you used to use to try and acquire power. All of de little tricks dat you might pull, if you haven't changed, and you still de old Manuel. I hope you have changed, and all of dose mistakes in de past remain nothing but unhappy memories you stuck living wit'."
"You can keep your pity," he spat. "I do not have anything to prove to anyone, least of all _you_." The inhibitor beeped again and Manuel grabbed his wrist with his free hand, sucking in a sharp breath through a clenched jaw. "You're on a fool's watch Remy. Perhaps it is _your_ monster clawing at you, waring you down where as mine is silenced forever. If it keeps you well to relate yourself to someone who is nothing like _you_, then you do that in your landscape of nightmares. I'm so much more than _that_."
"Remy seen dat arrogance before. Be different, Manuel. Dis is a chance you don't deserve, so don't waste it." Remy opened the door, leaving the files they had put together, which outlined Manuel's past. "Don't hide dose memories. Use dem de next time you think 'bout how you powers make something easier, or you tempted to try and reach for dat power you used to lust after. Because if you haven't changed, and you start on de road to becoming a threat again, I will find out about it." Remy leaned over until they were eye to eye. "And if dat happens, dis chance will be you last one."
At this early hour of the morning, Forge appreciated more than ever the side effect of his mutant power that reduced his need for sleep. Mostly because it meant that he was fully awake and alert at hours when all but a select few of the mansion's inhabitants were deep into the throes of REM sleep. That way, no one would walk in on him in the gym, taking out his pent-up frustration by methodically sinking free throw after free throw, one after the other, for an hour straight, until his shoulders burned and his one biological knee ached from the
repetition.
Shaking off the aches, he was headed upstairs when a buzz from his cell phone caught his attention. Curious, he checked the code and shrugged, heading down to the basement and the hardened security room.
As he tapped in the access code and listened to the door slide open, he pushed a lock of sweat-matted hair away from his eyes and glanced around, expecting to see Scott sitting by the console. "So what's the situation this time, boss? Another --"
The thin man sitting in the security station's chair, however, was definitely not Cyclops.
"Kuk used to keep an ashtray down here for me. It was easier." Remy said, blowing a plume of smoke past him in the darkness. The Cajun tossed a file down on the console in front of Forge. "I like de new sensors wit' de overlapping sectors. Limited, but effective wit' random incursions."
"Son. Of. A. Bitch."
Forge immediately walked past Remy to tap commands into the console. "One of these days, I swear I'm going to build something that you can't get through, oh great master thief. Well, the logs show..." He frowned, running back through the last six hours of automated security reports. "...well, shit. Overlapping seismic sensors, and I've had the wastewater pipes fitted with ten-centimeter filters, so you didn't crawl up the toilet - how did... no, never mind. I'm sure you've already left an outline somewhere. So what makes the secret shadow boss of the Snow Valley Irregulars break into my supposedly-hardened security room instead of just calling on the phone?"
"You did ask me to test your security. Remy tell you something, Forge. You keep missing de key aspect on what security really depends on." Remy said, leaning back in his chair. "Security is about people. Good security keeps dat in mind. De problem dat you having is dat you trying to make something secure when you never had to break into something before. Other den dat bit of bugging in Arcade's casino. You should take it in de other direction. Make youself break into one of dem."
"God, you're like my own little nicotine-scented shoulder devil, you know that?" Forge quipped, setting the system back to automatic, then leaning against one of the server racks to peer at Remy. "But I will keep that in mind. So, is this what passes for a social call, then?"
"Non. Dere's a new wrinkle to your security concerns dat Remy's noticed all of the sudden." LeBeau leaned back, looking slightly grim. "You started you cameras on Manuel?"
Forge bristled visibly. "Don't get me started on Manuel. So far I've been yelled at by Jennie, condescended to by Laurie, and nearly had a fight with my girlfriend concerning the rat bastard, suffice to say he's not my favorite person."
Ticking off points on his fingers, Forge continued. "He's unstable. He's manipulative. He's conniving. None of which, sadly, help me to convince the Professor that he's better off kept in a chemical coma for the greater good."
"Remy sure de Professor got his own reasons, but dat's not really important to me. What is important is dat you don't trust him. And if I know you, if you don't trust him, you going to be keeping an eye on him. Dat what's happening here?"
"In a nutshell," Forge confirmed. "But... argh. I know I can't let it be personal. Someone has to watch him, someone who knows how dangerous he is. That's my job, Remy. Everyone keeps hammering it in about how he deserves this chance to redeem himself and start over, but I'm not
sure they aren't opening the doors to a monster. But he hasn't done anything - yet."
Cautiously, Forge eyed the master thief with curiosity. "What's your angle in all this, then? So long as he doesn't topple Amanda right into a backslide to Gutter Junkie status again, I'm curious as to what your stake in Manuel's welfare is."
Remy shrugged. "In case you haven't noticed, dis is de place for monsters, Forge. More den a couple of us have needed dis place to have a shot." The Cajun pointed to the bank of screens. "But dat doesn't mean I need to trust him yet. At one point, not very long ago, Manuel was building himself into a genuine threat. Dis might be de start of some other plan of his, or it might be a real effort on his behalf. Remy not going to do anything to stand in de way of his chance to change if that's what he's sincere 'bout doing, and neither should you. But 'til you can be sure, dere should be someone watching him in here."
"There will be," Forge assured. "No question about that."
"Good. Den Remy's going to take care of de rest." LeBeau nodded. "Manuel doesn't deserve a second chance, but den again, neither did I, or Nate, or Betts; I actually hope he makes the best of it. But if he's got something else planned, or dere's a bigger picture, dis time, he's not going to fool anyone."
Forge nodded. "We're on the same sheet of music, then," he said. Clearing his throat, he motioned to the door. "I think there's some leftover home-cooked meatloaf in the fridge if you want a bite. Unless you've already pocketed it along with the family silver."
"Non, but Remy take it as a personal favour if you could turn off de cameras around Manuel's suite for a few hours? I've got one last piece of business to take care of before I leave."
Thinking for a moment, Forge nodded and tapped in a few commands. "You were never here," he said matter-of-factly. "And we're not having this conversation."
"You got a decent criminal mind dere, Forge. One day you got to give it a chance to experiment." The Cajun nodded and walked away.
Forge watched Remy leave, then turned his attention to the computer, swinging the chair around and pulling up various security feeds on the multiple monitors. Lit by the light from the displays, he reached under the desk to a small fridge and withdrew a can of soda, cracking it and draining it in one long pull. "Dammit, it's going to take me all week to figure out how you got in, you son of a bitch," he whispered, with a small smile. "I do so love a challenge."
Remy makes a trip to see a man he hasn't talked to in a very long time. When monsters meet...
Gripping the cane tightly, Manuel paused in the hallway, steadying the liquid of the hot tea he held in his hand. He had always been proud of the graces that had been instilled in him and the mannerisms that flowed from one solid movement into another without hesitation. Yet now, he hesitated. Grasping for some semblance of balance, juggling his weight on the cane and the awkward walk causing a spill every five feet. He'd be lucky if he had a full hot mug by the time he reached his room and it felt like an eternity to arrive there. Muir staff had always brought him tea for breakfast, for dinner and while they were not room service, they did bring him tea if they were making it for themselves. It was a minor detail that had grown into an aggravating impatience for his inability to manage a simple task. It forced him to stop, blow out a sigh along with an underlying curse while he stood at the guest room, trying to manage the effort of opening the door and not dropping the cup in the process. He was so tired that bending down to put the cup on the floor was not an option and used his arm to turn the knob after punching in the code.
"Manuel. Been some time." Remy LeBeau said, perched on a chair and looking completely relaxed in a room he'd obviously broken into. "Close de door. You and I need to have a talk."
He almost did drop the cup. "Most wait for an invitation. Not let themselves in. To what do I owe this violation of my privacy?" He let the door close and set the tea down by the table. The room was too small to sit on the bed and he supposed that Remy didn't mind making him uncomfortable. He choose to stand.
"Your existence, but dat should be obvious." The Cajun smiled at Manuel. "I see you got 'nother chance to come back. Swear, between de murderers, assassins, and general monsters, dis place is doing a lot of business in our kind."
He did not smile back. "I'm afraid you've worn out your welcome Remy. What do you want?"
"A hopefully short conversation." Remy pointed at the stack of files sitting on Manuel's desk. "Dat's you. All de things we know you did, plus some of de elements we reasonably sure you were involved in."
Turning his eyes, they fell on the stack and he took a long slow and patient breath through his nose before turning his gaze back on the Cajun. "Yes, I see that," he replied with an underlying tone of surprise. It shouldn't have surprised him, but it did.
"Wit' de Hellfire Club, making movements for advancement wit' de potential of using de school as a bargaining chip. De back and forth elements wit' you father, but not all your access cut off and not simple back doors either." Remy reached out and tapped the file. "Working wit' Gideon while he was actively against Nate and in de process, de school as well. You spent a lot of time while you were here actively working against de people here."
His back stiffened and his jaw set, tilting his chin up as he moved to sit. Pride wanted him to stand but physically he needed to sit and stay seated so there was little he could do but listen to Remy recount his past activities. "Yes."
"Now, dere's also all of de manipulations dat you went through wit' de people in here. Remy pretty sure dat Xavier not 'bout to put up wit' dat again, or even if he is, dere's others in here dat won't. Dat's not really de point or de reason dat I'm here." Remy settled his trenchcoat around him. "De person dat you were was developing into a threat to dis school and de people here to start, and a general bastard focused entirely on acquiring power in de long term."
Stupidity let irritation flicker in his eyes while intelligence had him keep his mouth shut concerning what was deemed 'manipulations'. "I'll spare you the repetitive speech of 'I-have-changed'. I realize who I was then. I do not know who I am now and to say otherwise would be a blatant lie. Considering you're not a telepath or an _Empath_, that I know of, you would not be able to tell the difference. I understand you've witnessed the times I've gone astray, moral perceptions warped, however, this is a break from my past." The inhibitor beeped and Manuel gritted his teeth.
"Getting angry, Manuel? Dat's when you used to use you powers; lash out. 'member when you turned Lorna into you puppet, burnt her hand raw and made her do you bidding. Or 'manda, all de times you made her pay for you being mad. Or helping keep Betts locked in her own head." Remy picked up another file. "And we both know dat dere's more den dat still there."
He opened the file and tossed a set of pictures on the desk in front of Manuel. "So how much you going to be like you father, neh? Or have you really changed? Dere's actually one thing dat I have to give you, Manuel. If you've changed, like you said, den dis whole life of who you were and de things you did are things dat you you going to have to live wit' for de rest of you life. Remy a monster too, and de memories of what Gambit did, nothing can every wash dat 'way."
Manuel didn't glance at the photos. He threw them off the bed onto the floor and the annoying beep of the inhibitor sounded again, sending a slight jolt up his arm to the fist he made. "And what would you have me do? _Beg_ for forgiveness of things I vaguely remember? I think not." The journals had worn him down and he had said as very little as possible to everyone to maintain peace. Now, Manuel had difficultly maintaining that control when it stared him in the face and all his past piled into one stack. "I live with them. Do not assume Remy. It's unbecoming of you. I've nothing to be proud of and nothing to prove."
"I think you missed de point, Manuel. Dat was pity. You can't make up for what you've done, any more den I can. If you've changed, dat's what you have looking forward to living with." Remy finally stood, and as always, the Cajun's sense of coiled menace was palpable. "But you do have something to prove."
He adjusted his coat again. "You have to prove dat you not who you are. Dat you not in de process of becoming a threat again. You see, Manuel, I will be watching you for all those little ties that you used to use to try and acquire power. All of de little tricks dat you might pull, if you haven't changed, and you still de old Manuel. I hope you have changed, and all of dose mistakes in de past remain nothing but unhappy memories you stuck living wit'."
"You can keep your pity," he spat. "I do not have anything to prove to anyone, least of all _you_." The inhibitor beeped again and Manuel grabbed his wrist with his free hand, sucking in a sharp breath through a clenched jaw. "You're on a fool's watch Remy. Perhaps it is _your_ monster clawing at you, waring you down where as mine is silenced forever. If it keeps you well to relate yourself to someone who is nothing like _you_, then you do that in your landscape of nightmares. I'm so much more than _that_."
"Remy seen dat arrogance before. Be different, Manuel. Dis is a chance you don't deserve, so don't waste it." Remy opened the door, leaving the files they had put together, which outlined Manuel's past. "Don't hide dose memories. Use dem de next time you think 'bout how you powers make something easier, or you tempted to try and reach for dat power you used to lust after. Because if you haven't changed, and you start on de road to becoming a threat again, I will find out about it." Remy leaned over until they were eye to eye. "And if dat happens, dis chance will be you last one."
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