Who: Remy What: brief narrative, arrival in the Tower When: Now Warnings/Notes: n/a
Remy should've known what to expect when the 'doctor' known as Sinister told him to run for his life. It meant his life was on the line. Just as well. He never got any fine details about anything anyhow. And it wasn't like he could say no to someone like that either. Still, it was all going to work out because he loved a good chase, and running for his life meant he could get away from Genosha again.
He wasn't a permanent resident or held against his will. He'd done his stint in Essex's rehab facility before, and it was hard to keep a good thief nailed down in only one place. Instead, he was called in for particular tasks to pay off a favor and for an easy paycheck. Those tasks ran the gamut from delivering packages to tracking down "failed experiments" after they were "let go."
Remy knew better. They were all small cogs in Mr. Sinister's big machine. He suspected that letting mutants get out - regardless of whether they could pass as human or not - was all part of a bigger experiment, maybe to see what happened outside the petri dish. No matter what, that mad scientist always seemed to know where his past test subjects ran off to. Sometimes he was sent to con one of them into returning out of their own volition. Hell only knew what happened after that, and if he thought about it too much, then he wouldn't get a wink of sleep. Some nights, that was hard enough as it was.
Shadowy tunnels. Echoed screams. Bloody hands. A mother dying and a baby crying...
It was a real steep price after asking to have his powers fine-tuned and stabilized.
The further away he was from Sinister, the better. All he had to do was nudge a mole in the Tower, which was chock full of things to steal and better food to eat. A man could only take so many fruity drinks with paper umbrellas before getting bored with the amenities.
Like other "escapees" before him, he bolted in the dead of night like a jackrabbit avoiding a hail of bullets, trying to swim to freedom. Just like the rumors said, he didn't have to swim far before he felt himself being suddenly whooshed away.
A second later, Remy landed on his rear in a fancy shower, dripping wet like a swamp rat and no sign of where or how he fell in there. Whatever voodoo did this, it didn't bring the water with him.
"Mon Dieu," he huffed out, sweeping wet hair back and patting himself down. There wasn't any blood on his hands afterward. No pain anywhere other than the ache of a bad landing. Always a good thing. "Welp, no bleedin'. Always a bonus."
With another pat-down and his fingers went through some bullet holes in his favorite trench coat. It was clear a mad scientist was playing for keeps. He pried his fingers free and peeled off each piece of clothing, throwing them out onto the floor before turning on the shower to rinse the saltwater off him. As he finished and was getting out, ready to reach for a towel, a woman's voice came from the ceiling.
"There's a dryer four-point-two feet outside of the bathroom."
He didn't even flinch as he wrapped the towel around his waist, although this was an unexpected development.
"Libel to scare a man like dat, ceiling lady. What's your name?"
"I'm Friday, Mister Stark's operating system for the Avengers Tower."
"Sooooo, you must be one of those A.I. systems," Remy said in a lazy drawl, smiling up at the ceiling. This was going to be fun. He'd have to find out just how much Friday was watching everything. There had to be lots of neat stuff laying around, and he looked forward to stealing it.
"I'm an operating system," the voice clarified. "No one says artificial intelligence after Ultron. The boss says those are dirty words."
"Lucky you, I like dirty words." He wrung the clothes out in the bathroom sink and slung the soaked trenchcoat up over the shower door to let it dry out. "Remy LeBeau, at your service. Don't s'pose there's some extra clothes around here. Or do you like peekin' at me, cher?"
A laser grid swiftly passed over his body. It disappeared as quickly as it appeared, followed by, "I can't see anything other than a three-dimensional framework to determine sizing. A drone will leave new clothing outside your door, and you can order meals to be delivered. I only answer questions and assist with network access. I don't monitor what happens in apartments, following all privacy protocols."
That was good since he was going to test those out. So good that he sounded delighted, "Ooooh, so you're kinda like Siri."
"I am not like Siri." The A.I. sounded annoyed, like that was another one one of those dirty words.
"Dat's fine? Siri's a hussy an' no one likes listenin' to her anyhow," Remy replied as he tossed his clothes into the dryer. "You sound pretty cute. You gotta holographic body by any chance? Maybe some sorta virtual reality interactivity?"
What? It was worth a shot.
"No means no, Mister LeBeau," was the amused sounding response. "Expect your clothing within an hour. Everything you'll need to access the Avengers Network can be found on the kitchen counter. If you require further assistance, I can answer questions. Questions that do not involve flirting."
An uncomfortable silence set in after that. Shot down.
But not all was lost. The sooner he made contact with the rogue in the Tower, the sooner he could hightail it back down to the relative safety of Bayou Country. At least for a little while, until he was beckoned back to Genosha again.