Proving a Point or Not

May 13, 2018:

Remy decides hes ready, Storm backs him up. Scott disagrees. Jean heckles.

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions: Beast Rogue Polaris Shadowcat

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

The sub-basemnt level two, packed with Shi'ar Technology this is a highly secured area. One wouldn't realize this with much of the renovations over the years, the particular lobby area that is occupied right now is open enough there are inset benches along the walls, ambient lighting and tall plants in each corner, an almost waiting room feel to it before the other chambers can be entered, Cerebro, the Ready Room, the Danger Room. There was once a small library too but thats been attached to this room, an offset wall that extends and opens to reveal plenty of shelves and tablets that detach, each one able to access the X-Men's database. Space saving. Always a consideration. The northern wall hosts a wide screen television thats currently queued in to the Danger Room's empty display, a flat wall with projected 3D images of the news next to that, it dips lower than the rest of the area before those two walls to an extended sectional couch with a table in the center, cozy, a good hideaway or a waiting lounge for those who want to just escape.

A low broadcast song players through several soundbars and hidden speakers, what sounds like an Electronic playlist keeping up with the atmosphere's chill feel.

Remy steps into the basement off the elevator, still, his cast clomps onto the floor and clutching onto his walking cane, the cajun walks deeper into the hallway. His free hand reaches out to grab one of the tablets kept on a shelf as he makes his way towards the room with the three dimensional display.

"What're we doin' 'ere today?" He asks no one as he flops unceremoniously onto the couch and starts to play a game loudly on the tablet. (Yeah, they're not supposed to do that.)

The subbasement has been the place where Nate snuck off to sleep last night. He crashed for twelve hours on a couch and woke up half an hour ago. Rested but hungry. After a visit to the showers, he is back, armed with a couple protein bars he rescued from the bottom of a drawer and wondering if someone thought of placing a coffee machine in this level of the complex.

He almost runs into Remy. Blame it to the lack of coffee.

"Hey…" pause to think if it is morning of afternoon right now. Nevermind. "Cajun, what do you mean? Did I miss a meeting?"

"Well, we… I, just got done rebooting security and making sure there is no blindspots or visibility patches." Scott says hands being rubbed together as he walks in from the Ready Room, "We've had too many direction attempts lately not to be on the safe side."

The bespectacled brunette looks like he just had a fresh shower not long ago, hair a damp mess, a plain X-Institute grey tee shirt and black running pants, flip-flops to top the lazy outfit off.

"What about you, aside from abusing team gadgets?"

"No meeting, Nate. I do not think."

"How is the leg, Remy?"

"Ah'm not abusing team gadgets." The cajun reports without looking back up from his game of candy crush. The man with the broken foot is leaning way back onto the sofa as if his spine was removed and he nods over towards Nate. "Ah mean, Ah got d'is message abou' d'e securitah system. Figga'd Ah bettah check in an' see wha's wha'." with his tablet interrupting occasionally, "CRUSH" and "SWEET"

Finally Remy turns his unshaven face towards Scott and he then looks down to his leg, "Doc says nex' week. Meybeh." With a calm and annoyed shrug.

Nate runs a hand through his hair in a vain attempt to tame the morning mess. Definitely should get a haircut soon. But that is Nate as usual. "Ah, good. I will take a look later - I like to know how to sneak in here avoiding the cameras."

Which should be impossible now. But still a good idea to find out where all the sensors are placed. One never knows.

A brief glance is given to Remy's game. But computer games never interested Nate much, unless he can play with friends. And even then it ranks low in his list of fun pastimes. "Anything new about that Golconda town you mentioned the other day, Scott?"

"Next week?" Scott says, "So two days you're good for new Danger Room sims." It's casual the way he says it, no humor in it. Just a blank observation.

"Don't worry. I'll make sure the scenario is wheel chair accessible." A part of him mentally apologizes to Professor X, as if the man would hear all of this.

"Abnormal levels of energy consumption compared to towns of it's size in the county, we tried to determine more from a distance but so far nothing. That alone is suspicious unless they have some sort of transponder failure." A shrug from the tall mutant, he sits on the back of the couch.

"I am going to start sending coordinated recon teams in, stagger them until we have enough information to move in."

"Ah'm not d'e doc-" SWEET "'ah, ask Hank if ya need t'know so badly." The thief says with a smirk as he keeps swiping at the tablet's screen.

"Ah'll show ya later Nate. Jus' don' tell anyones. 'Specially Rogue an' Kitty. O' any o' dhe kiddos." CRUSH

"Ah keep tellin' ya Scott, Ah'm ready t'go in. no one would suspec' a guy in a cas', plus… Ah need t'get away from Hank." Remy says with a smirk and an almost pleading look in his red and black eyes towards the leader of the X-men.

Storm had spent one night helping Bruiser, AKA Molly outfit to become an X-Men member, but before everything was said and done, the young woman had to truly graduate by means of academics. Her and the other Seniors of the High School are to have the usual ceremony where the diplomas are involved and either they go out into the world, go home, or stay home, here.

Either way preparations for the ceremony is being worked over with other Alumni and Staff and it has kept Storm busy the past few days - as well as other matters.

The elevator door whispers open though, revealing the tall Nubian woman dressed more like she is cut from Chicago Alley, but her carriage one more regal despite the lace and buckle of leather boots, laced up leather pants that are held to her waist by a belt that bares a silver loop front and center. Much like her uniform, it holds a similar strip of leather fabric that rises to span from a slender strip to a widened cover over her chest, haltering around the span of her torso in a bandeau fashion.

The platinum mohawk hangs free down the bare span of her back to end just between shoulder blades, several braids holding it back from her face as it is apparent today was gardening and the stables by the dirt still beneath her nails. "Well, you did say 'stagger' Scott, in that case he is your man." A gesture to Remy as her greeting is right there.

"You shouldn't need to sneak in here Nate, ever." Let the rest of that statement linger as food for thought before her smile flashes and she is claiming a perch on the arm of the couch.

"Who did you send to investigate?" Asks Nate, looking at Scott. "I could take a look from the Astral plane. Maybe Illy can do some scrying too?" The offer from Remy about sneaking makes him smirk. But first he wants to try to get through by himself.

"Not telling Rogue and… Kitty?" Because Remy and Kitty. Cognitive dissonance. "Nevermind, I don't want to know. Get the leg fixed and we'll talk."

He shouldn't need to sneak in here, she says. Oh, and the things that shouldn't be. "I'd consider it a challenge, an exercise. Besides, I know better than assume ever is never. I have done weirder," he offers a grin to the white-haired woman.

"You're not though. You're a liability while injured as you are, if we send people in to rescue you, they'll have double the baggage to get you out."

"We'll wait the week for you to be ready, meanwhile I'll send in a team beforehand, rotate you in to second squad."

Storm gets a smile that appears and vanishes, "Wrong sort of stagger, but funny, Ororo. My laughing is on the inside." He is tired, no sleep from being in a holding cell all night and the only thing keeping him awake is a cold shower earlier.

"Nobody, those were long range scans. We haven't put anyone yet." The suggestions of Astral and Scrying are nodded at but he doesn't encourage or object.

"It's sorted, alpha team will be in within the next three days, then if Remy is up to it, he'll lead the next crew in."

Remy cocks up a brown eyebrow at the appearance of Storm and he blinks a few times as she reminds him of something he was supposed to do earlier, but it just isn't coming to him. So instead he stands looking at the tall woman before he swipes his finger again and SWEET errupts from his tablet causing him to look back at the device. Then with his mutant eyes locked on the screen, Remy explains himself towards Nate, "Rogue cause she'll do dastardlah t'in's wit' dat info. Kitty cause she' a goody two shoes. She'll narc on ya an' me. Ah don' need dat in mah life. Do ya?" Remy licks his lip idly before he frowns at Scott. "Dat 'urts." Is all the thief says before he looks back down at his tablet and keeps his attention on his awful mobile game. CRUSH

"Scott's expression is watched, her smile still lingering in a manner of silent amusement while those dark blue eyes sweep to Remy in his rise, a brow taking a hike upward as she shakes her head and lets out an exhaled laugh of amusement. "Rogue will do dastardly things anyway, you just have the option to pick /some/ of the battles."

"Some of you should pick them a bit more wisely." A clear of her throat as her gaze went to Nate, and then back to Scott. Speaking of Rogue and reminded by the sleepless look from Scott that is one of Nate's frequents - the lack of humor is normal, afterall!

"Especially your music tastes." A small jab, but one meant in jest as the flash of ivories in a grin is the obvious tell. "One moment though, as I have to go powder my nose." And off she goes, but instead going into the ready room, the door closing behind her to seal off the light sound of laughter.

"I thought Kitty was a ninja too," comments Nate. Nerd ninja, maybe? But he might be mixing memories from different realities. He has not seen Kitty in a year or more. Did she move to Gotham?

No, truth is Nate has not yet gotten his wake-up coffee. So it has not registered yet that Scott looks quite tired. His own sense of humor is not usually affected by lack of sleep anyway. "Anyway, do we have coffee in this basement level? I seem to remember we did before the Omega Event."

"Bottom line, I think Remy is saying trust none of them." Scott adds from his seat on the couch backing, "Preaching to the choir, Ororo. I hit my lecture limit yesterday with Lorna and Marie."

Looking away from Remy and Storm he motions with a tip of his chin towards the entry way, a small table over there hidden by a tall planet, "There is always coffee nearby, without it we would not have lasted this long."

"Latah 'Roro." Remy says with his hand lifting up from the tablet to wave and then it's quickly back on the glass screen. Then abruptly he turns off his device and pushes up to get off the couch. With a smirk to Nate and Scott, the cajun slips past the two and says as he puts a hand to his ear, "Ah t'ink Ah 'ear Hank callin' me."

With a lift of his hand he pats Scott's shoulder and looks to Nate before flipping the tablet at the time displaced Grey, "He's right. None of us are trust wort'y, but in the most trust wort'y ways." Before the thief slips out of the door Ororo closed earlier and this time he leaves it open.

Jean Grey arrives from The Sub-Basement 1 - Xavier's Institute.

Nate having gone silent and Ororo off to powder her nose leaves Scott to watch Remy depart, "Mind your leg, two days and you're in the Danger Room again." Maybe he was not joking about that.

"Then there was one." He muses and throws one leg over the couch back to slide down it and sit facing those two large screens, a remote picked up. Slowly he starts to cycle channels while his eyes grow heavy lidded. It beats jailhouse cold and dirty floor.

Nate was busy with the coffee machine, of course. It takes him a minute to figure it out, and another five to have a couple mugs full of the holy liquid. "You look as if you needed one," he notes, sling one of the mugs to the older Summers. "I am going to explore this improves security array. See you later, boss."

Remy looks over his shoulder when Nate starts some coffee. "Ah t'ink ah can stay fo'a moment." The cajun says before he hobbles over towards the machine and grabs a coffee mug to fill it with the black bean soup. "Scott, Ah'm goin' on dhe firs' team. Don' side line meh." The thief says.

"I couldn't hear you over the sound of your cane scraping up the freshly polished floors." Scott says while a channel hops from ESPN to Motocross then Hockey toggling back to Motocross then Hockey. Apparently Summers is indecisive.

"Don't worry, you won't miss out on the action, Remy."

"When did ya get jokes Summahs?" The thief asks as he moves towards the door frame and leans against his shoulder. He turns his cane upwards to look at the tip and he considers bringing it down on Scott's head, but he's not a teacher who believes in corporal punishment. Usually.

"An' Ah'm not worried." Gambit says with a sip of his coffee.

Storm returns from the Ready room, and as Remy is heading out, one of those passage doors is caught by a "mysterious" breeze that chills the air in arrival, and warms on the departure current, the exchange causing a small electric charge that freezes the sliding sealant door in an electrical hesitation, gears whining lightly in protest!

"Of all people, you would know. But not all thieves are always untrustworthy." A knowing smile from Storm as she heads for the table Scott had gone to and lowers within, crossing one leg over the other to recline back.

"So, two days, what is going on in two days, Scott?" Hint hint, get back here hop-along.

"I didn't realize I was joking." Scott says calmly, that same monotone carry remains. "Also I can see your reflection in the TV, if you whack me with that I'm going to have Lorna drop another canon on the other foot."

"I'll be sending a team in to Golconda for the first round of reconnaisance. The rest of us will be hitting some extra hard Danger Room sessions to prep for the Brotherhood and Trask."

A look to the left past lenses at Storm as she rejoins them, "Welcome back."

Remy does jolt a little bit and moves as quickly as he can to get away from the doorway tries to close against him. "Damnit Storm." The thief says as he pulls his mug away from his chest as he spilled a little bit from the movement. "Dang." He says to no one as he looks back to Scott.

"He plans t'seed me t'dhe dangah room wit' you guys instea' o'sendin' me int'dhe town mahself an' savin' everyone else from a horrible trip." The cajun complains with a look to Storm as if he was trying to make his own point, or at least look for some validation.

Storm apparently had to get her own tablet to pull up notes she had taken while catching up on mission debriefings she has not been able to attend, or the missions themselves. That does not mean she is not paying acute attention, as it is her job, after all.

Storm's smile flickers at Remy's reaction and then fades as she pulls up her notes on the remote and unknown village in Upstate. "You always joke, but your reactions give you the same responses. You earn them." Storm states dryly to Scott while intentionally keeping her eyes upon the screen, the reflection pale as she scrolls.

"Who would this team consist of?" A glance to Remy is one that has her tipping her head a bit, acknowledging his 'lodged' complaint. "Because with a village this size anyone that does not look harmless, or appears abnormal, will draw suspicions." A flip of her hair. "That strikes me." A point of two fingers from her eyes to Scott's. "You…" Her direction in this is point blunt.

"Jean, Rogue if we cover that streak, and LeUno over here, are the most harmless first approach, but also perhaps the kind we need to be tactful, but if push comes to shove…?" Or is there more Storm is missing? "Rogue can carry him out fast, or Jean, so I see no risk considering the three and their capabilities even if one is down a limb."

"You as well?" Scott questions Storm, "Remy's still in gimp status. He hasn't been cleared for another week, we leave in two days. That is pushing it."

"It's a liability, as I stated. He can wait until the second team, I'm not budging on this. We cannot have any further screw ups, besides, first through I want to use those of us who were not present during the attack, Remy was."

"I appreciate you're standing together in this, I like the camaraderie but this just makes more sense, no point in being reckless."

"Believe it or not, I'm slightly partial to our resident Cajun. I'd rather not see him compromised over pride."

Remy getss a look now, it is clear, Summers doesn't plan on budging here.

Remy's unique eyes squint as he stares down the leader. Yes he's right that the cajun is wearing a cast, but Scott is wrong about Remy not being the correct asset. Remy is not only the most qualified member of the team to infiltrate a small town, the cast would actually add to the depth he could penetrate the small town guise. It would be an asset, not a defect. But, none of this is aired by the cajun.

"T'anks fo' tryin' 'Ro, but we know dhe stick up 'is butt has a stick in /its/ butt. 'E ain' budgin'." Remy says moving to try and open the door, hopefully it's not locked again via some bizarre weather pattern.

"Remy is Our Gambit, Scott." Literally, figuratively, namesake-ly! "He will be unassuming. What harm is someone tapping around with a cane and a limp, saddled up with a Southern Charm, and a Downhome Wife?" There was no dig, no harm intended at all, but her own mental vision on how to quietly go in, in two days is being made /clearer/ the more she speaks, while Scott, has yet to tell her *His* intentions and idea for a First Looksee.

If Remy even budges that damn door another gust will try to slam it shut so Remy remains. "No, he is protective, he is a Leader who has taken risks even on petty crimes at music stores and put himself in the way for even that. You," A look to Remy. "Are in the same boat but with more risk to him. Am I wrong, Mister. Summers.?"

Storm is being pointed, but this is not -just- for Remy, as it is a past and a history in her mind that she recalls that has earned Remy her accord, but also her commending - and on this team she sees no one as less if it is /their/ risk to take and they are willing to take it. In Kenya, her Tribe send young boys out to hunt a male lion to come back as men, or not at all. She does not interfere then on tradition, and to her this is similar.

"So are you saying, Rogue and Jean cannot handle it if he becomes compromised?" Storm isn't budging yet, either, it is evident in the return stare.

Storm is not challenging Scott, she is questioning, it is what she does and why she is who she is here.

Some mud needs stirred and can earn the consistency to heal wounds. A glance to Remy, a look back to Scott. "*Who* makes more sense then?" True curiousity of her unanswered question. No challenge, no battle here between them, true desire to hear and listen.

"They are not in question at all." A sigh.

"Right now the only risk I am suffering is a massive headache." Scott laments, his free hand lifts and wedges underneath his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.

"I am aware Remy is usually our best bet in these sort of things, this is right up his avenue, but seriously… " He twists at the upper body in his seat one arm throwing over the back of the couch, he looks at Remy then Ororo, then Remy again. With that look comes a 'burst' of optic blast, low yield, a minor setting. It would maybe knock a chair leg out or a teenagers footing. It should by no means take Gambit's legs out from under him in a normal every day, hell it would only feel like a large dog rammed in to someones side. Scott has a point to prove though or it's the ass stick comment…

"Sorry, pal."

You know what most people don't expect. To be shot at. By their boss. With concussive laser blasts. From their eyes.

Remy wasn't expecting it, no, but he does fall backwards to try and get out of the way of the blast. Coffee, canes and even a few playing cards are dropped and fly upwards into the air before crashing down back onto Remy.

With a thumbs up, Remy coughs with an old, "Oooow… dodged it." He moans.

This is, of course, exactly the time for —

"Scott?" The voice is very familiar. It is the herald of the Institute's resident redhead, who appears to have just walked in.

Jean Grey's arms are folded. "Are you trying to make points again?"

Storm has not moved from her regal postured repose in the chair, the only sound is leather /squealing/ as she ass-twists in time with the ruby-blast towards Remy, the reflection in her eyes no longer digital, but purple due to Blue on Red combination. There is no motion of even the slightest tension, her hand placed on upmost knee only moved to close the door that cornered Remy into the position that Scott ended in Remy being ass-down on the floor with his cane and cards scattered about him.

Hit and run!??

But he is not singed, harmed, not even his pride, as he… "Dodged, even as Gimpy." Her accent made it sound like 'Gumby'. Same difference…

"Tylenol, or Ibuprofen, or Herbal. I have plenty of pain remedies. Name your preference." Her voice is flat but as Jean enters, Storm is smiling.

Scott's expression is a wry grimace, he does his very best not to show any emotion when Remy comes up with a thumbs up, it's a tick, a tiny one that curls up one corner of the man's lips. Damnit. He is trying to be grouchy, tired and set here.

Then he hears the chime of 'Scott' and his smile immediately vanishes, why does an excuse first come to mind? He knows better. That loud kneejerk first responsive deflect… its not out loud at least. Just mental-like.

He speaks though, "A tiny one."

"I think I accomplished it."

"I'll take herbal, if you're offering to make some of your tea, Ororo. Might want some for Remy too." Scott pushes himself to his feet and moves around the couch, he gives Jean a warm squeeze of one hand on her bicep then moves to help Remy up, while also cleaning up the clattered mess. He doesn't say it but this is a gesture of 'no hard feelings'.

Remy slowly takes the hand offered to him by Scott and with a frown he gets his club foot underneath him as he tries to stand up fully. "T'anks Scott, but ah t'ink ya didn' proove ya poin'. Ah still got up." Then with a glance over his shoulder towards the wall that would have been blasted, he's curious if Scott caused any damage to the room. "Ah t'ink it's time fo' me t'get t'rehab…" The thief says with a hand slipping a few playing cards off the ground and into the pocket of his jacket.

Jean's arms stay folded. Her eyes turn heavenward, as if she might find some of the patience she needs floating on the ceiling.

She does not in fact find any there. But the faint familiar kneejerk twinge she feels off him serves the purpose nonetheless.

"Well, I imagine he might have done something to deserve it, knowing him," Jean says, cutting a glance at Remy, though the reluctant smile that flickers over her face indicates it's a tease.

Her head turns a little as Scott passes her, the redhead leaning a bit into his touch — but not overlong. Instead, she finally unfolds her arms to cross the room and start helping pick up. "I dread to ask what was so contentious."

"He didn't prove /that/ point." Storm states as Scott rises, passes Jean as well and offers Remy a hand-up of comraderie, despite the action against him.

Storm smiles, slow and with a dip of her chin as if in a /reverent/ nod to the moment between the four of them.

Storm has said and done enough "damage" for this day, so when healing tea is requested she rises. The door she had 'busted', to keep Remy from escaping the 'Moment', slides casually aside.

"I will send some to your rehab for after." Storm states to Remy in passing, stepping casually around them all.

To her, this is not her mess, one tried to proclaim it, the other challenged it, and the next… Is the 'Downhome Wife' and caregiver of a different color than Storm.

"I need my Balls." No smile, just a possible door closure behind Storm on that punchline. Tea Balls for loose steeping in hot water…

No pun intended.

Give her Five (minutes)

"You did but you went down real fast too." Scott responds, "They like to say, what matters is how many times you pick yourself up and go again but… what will they say about you if you spend your whole time on your back?"

Realizing it as it comes out Summers holds up his hand, the other one that didn't aid Remy upright, "Forget I said that. Bad choice of words."

Jean's observation has Scott murmuring, "If you ask me yes."

"He wants to be first in for the Golcondo mission, cast bound and still sore. Storm's was being sweet on him, like usual. I couldn't resist the challenge. Clearly." An explanation from his crimson hued point of view. What better kind is there anyhow?

He makes enough room for Storm to clear around where Gambit touched down, as Storm argues Scott didn't make his point he bickers back a quick, "I did."

From the hallway, the clomping and the clacking that is Remy's new cadence in his walk, the thief's voice rings out so that the three other's can hear. "Did. Not." The voice echoes.

As Storm walks down the hall to the the metal and mesh (Tea) Balls, hearing Remy's retort echo…

On the new security system it can be seen - Storm *Snaps!*, in time with the 'Did. Not.'

Where she heads to is the cafeteria to the cabinets, as she already has the herbal mixture, but just needs to combine it. Over the comms though, there is a light laughter.

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