Remy, Marie-Ange. Sunday afternoon/eveningish.

[x-tarot.livejournal.com]

Marie-Ange runs out of the medlab when the doctors aren't directly watching. She gets outside, Remy finds her, and rapidily realizes she's not making any sense and gets her out to the boathouse where there aren't any halucinitory corpses.



The hallways were closing in on her. Marie-Ange -knew- better than to think they really were, but she still had to get out right now. But she couldn't actually remember which way she'd come in, and everything was so confusing. Metal walls, paneled walls, concrete, it was like the mansion couldn't make up its mind. Shutting her eyes didn't help at all, and she could still feel the walls pressing in and twisting around her.

The stairs weren't much better, threatening to crumble out from under her and or slid straight like one of those old cartoons, made all the worse by the grotesque corpses of her former classmates, lounging like bloated zombies around the house.

Outside was only the slightest relief from the claustrophobia, and Marie-Ange slumped against the back porch, arms over her head and tried to ignore the madcap racing of her heartbeat bouncing off the brick and echoing back to her ears. It wasn't helping, covering her eyes, or trying to plug her ears shut, and she couldn't run anymore, and she curled up, head buried in her arms and bit down on her lip, trying not to wail, so that no one could hear her.

Unfortunately for her, the outdoors were popular with the X-folk. Wolverine had spent a lot of his time prowling the grounds, and Cain was well known for stalking around the paths, although the general consensus was that he was just looking for an excuse to yell at someone. The most recent lurker in the grounds was Remy LeBeau. Being, by nature, a particularly nosy bastard, and not trusting his own headspace around the regular mansion dwellers for more than a little while, it was not surprising that his jaunts crisscrossed the grounds like a web. It also put him in the position to almost trip over the recumbent girl.

She didn't see him or hear anything until Remy was nearly right next to her, before she could think it might be a better idea to stay silent, she yelped and scrambled to stand up, to run before he turned into another decaying corpse or decided to turn and attack, or worse, to try to get her back inside where the doctors could just sedate her again, and turn her into one of the mindless drones wandering the halls.

"Remy miss de hide and seek invitation?" He said offhandedly, taking a drag on his cigarette as the girl shot up from her position. The joking tone died as he caught the look on her face; the almost heady desperation of something that twisted her features into a pained mask. Despite being a nosy bastard, LeBeau also possessed the skill of knowing when a bad time for jokes had suddenly appeared.

"Marie-Ange?"


Remy wasn't dead, dying or falling to bits in ugly ways. It didn't mean that he wouldn’t suddenly go and set people on fire, like Amanda had, or just start falling over dead like Jamie, but it was a good sign. For now. And he sounded concerned, but not in the same way the doctors had. Not in the "Must fix it now even if it makes you a zombie" way. Not in the cold emotionless way that Dr. McCoy had, or the smothering concern of Dr. MacTaggart.

Marie-Ange stopped, watching Remy silently. If he didn't go all bloated corpse or blood-covered murderer, maybe whatever was wrong was over. Maybe whoever was making her see things had gone away...

Remy paused at the slightly desperate looking stare she gave him, more puzzled than anything. While he hadn't spoken with Marie-Ange since getting back to the mansion, he was fairly sure that if she'd gone insane recently, it would have gotten back to him. Still, there was something fractured behind her eyes, a light that worried him.

"Try dis again. You alright, chere?"

"Vous n'êtes pas mort... " English wasn't coming to her at all anymore, and even French was a struggle. But Remy still wasn't doing anything foul or bad or just -wrong-.. "Non." She shook her head and tried to look around him, just to make sure that he wasn't some kind of plant or bait to lure her out.

"Apparently de students have discovered hard drugs." Remy muttered under his breath. "And dey ain't even sharing. Marie, chere, why don't you tell Remy what's going on, oui? Dere something scaring you? Something wrong?" He moved a touch closer. Not enough to frighten her, but she was now within reach if necessary.

"Maybe I should call dat Doug for you? Dat help?"

Marie-Ange shook her head furiously. "No Doug." She'd already seen him once, and the blood seeping through his shirt was bad enough the first time, and he didn't understand that -he- was the one who belonged in the infirmary, not her. She wasn't the one with a hole in her gut. "No drugs and -no- Doug." Remy still wasn't dead or dying, and wasn't trying to kill her or anyone else, but that didn't mean much, since no one else was around.

"No Doug. Oui." Remy hadn't heard of a recent breakup, and unless Doug had decided to go for a ride on Jubilee or Amanda in the last twenty minutes, he couldn't figure out what could be upsetting her. "Look, how about de Professor? You looking pale, petite, and not at all well. Maybe talk to him about what's going on?"

Shaking her head no just made her dizzy, and Marie-Ange slumped against the porch railing. It took a few moments for her to manage to compose herself enough to answer, and even then it was shaky. "No Professor. He has Manuel to worry about and Jamie dying everywhere and Amanda and Jubilee.." Didn't Remy -know-? He couldn't have missed the bodies.. "Cannot bother him just because I am not able to hold my stomach in with everyone hurt..."

Remy paused for a moment. He'd suddenly understood bonafide crazy talk for a moment, even after he'd heard all types of last minute pleas for life. At least this time, she didn't mention elephants. That was the sure sign that she wasn't faking it.

"Alright, chere. No Professor. Especially with all de dying," Remy took her by the upper arm. She flinched, but his grip was like iron. "Maybe you come back to de boathouse, sit down for a minute."

"Is anyone -there-?" If anyone was in the boathouse, she wasn't going there. "The last time I was there, we were fighting demons. They could come back. Yana could make them come back..." She probably had, actually. "Or she has. Maybe that's why Jamie's dead everywhere..."

"Only Cain is at de boathouse, petite. He pretty much counts as furniture while de football is on anyway." Remy reached out, and took her other arm, drawing her to his side as they started down the path. Jamie dead everywhere? Demons? This was not your average teenage freak out, and Remy almost wished her could put it down to boyfriend issues or that time of the month. If he didn't know any better, he'd think she'd gone flat out insane. Mind you, considering the nature of the mansion, he was holding off on that assessment for a few minutes at least.

"Just Mr. Marko? Not the skeleton or the big red eye?" Marie-Ange pulled back, trying to undo Remy's grip from her arm. Not managing to succeed, she sighed in resignation and followed him, glancing over her shoulder frequently, as if she was checking to make sure no one was watching. "He's going to fall apart, you know? Go all to bits..."

"Well den, at least we know it'll improve his looks." Remy said, angling her towards the door. He was well aware that this did not look good, and he mentally sighed at the likely shitstorm that was likely to follow.

As expected, Cain was watching television in the living room. He didn't even turn around as Remy hustled Marie-Ange past him.

"Got to use your room for a bit, homme."

"Just change the sheets when you're done." Marko said, eyes not leaving the screen. His tone, however, carried the 'ooh, we're going to have a talk after behind the woodshed, son' vibe to it.

"See? He's all cracked and broken... " Marie-Ange protested as Remy led up her the stairs, gesturing at Cain. "You can see the eye, right? And the skeleton?" She was just rational enough not to make the standard comment about Sauron. It never went well when she did normally and now was not the time for Tolkien references.

"Maybe get you upstairs first. Den you can tell Remy all about de cracked eye." LeBeau said, finally getting her into the room and closing the door. She slumped down on the floor, beside Cain's massive bed. Remy sat back on his heels across from her, looking concerned. "So, tell me why everyone is dead, petite?"

Marie-Ange looked blankly at Remy, convinced he was out of his mind. "Because they're dead?" she answered quietly. "Doug was bleeding where he got shot, and Amanda set Jubilee on fire and it smelled -horrible-, like burning gum, and I think Jamie is dying like Skippy died. Wet and rotting everywhere." She swallowed heavily, stomach rolling just thinking of it.. "I do not know why its happening all at once, and the doctors said Doug was fine and Amanda just walked away and they said Jubilee is fine but she was on fire. How can she be fine if she was on fire?"

"Guess Remy missed de memo about everyone dying." LeBeau said. he'd been through the mansion earlier, and it was fairly clearly not full of grim death. That meant either people were setting other people on fire especially quietly these days, or that something was wrong with Marie-Ange. "You ever see dat sort of thing before. Maybe in de future, with your cards?"

"Not with the cards, no.." A firm shake of her head punctuated the answer. "In nightmares. I .. thought it -was- a nightmare. It was not supposed to happen... regular nightmares do not happen, just the ones after I do not sleep..." Except she hadn't been sleeping lately.

"De nightmares still happening? Maybe get out into de day, which is why you see all de dead people?" Remy sat back, rubbing his upper lip. "Petite, do me a favor. Take out dose cards and tell de future of one of your friends. If dey have a future, dey can't be dead, non? Den you know it's just a nightmare and you need some sleep to make dem go away."

"I.. do not know.. Remy, the cards have not worked very well.. " Marie-Ange said quietly. At his persistent look, she took the cards out with sigh and shuffled them, laying out a quick and haphazard spread.

"See? That is the Devil, which is .. captivity, or hopelessness.." She pointed to a card of a young man juggling, who did looked -decidedly- non-Devilish. "And that is the Lovers, but reversed... Which .. I suppose makes sense. Jamie being dead means Kitty would be alone..."

"Dat right..." Remy muttered. He didn't know much about tarot, but he knew the difference between the Devil and the Fool. Marie-Ange continued to speak about Jamie's future, pointing to cards and spelling a tale of doom. But the cards that spelled his future in her prophecy were not the cards she was pointing out. A three of Cups became the Moon. This was something darker, and had a vague idea that he might know where it was coming from.

"Tell you what, chere. Think it might be best of you stayed with Cain and I here for a little while. Remy bring you up some food in a bit. Maybe see if you can sleep a little. Meanwhile, I'll take care of what's going on in de mansion, oui?"

"Mr. Marko will not be upset...? He will not turn into the skeleton and break everything?" Marie-Ange scooped up the cards and tucked them away in their pouch. "His card has been the Tower for weeks and weeks. Destruction and chaos and major changes.. "

"Non. Remy talk to him about turning into a skeleton. Dat's not hygienic. Now, you just see if you can get some sleep, and Remy take care of everything." Remy said, getting up and helping her on to the bed before he ducked out the door. This was something that he needed to let the Professor know.