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Remy LeBeau (

Gambit couldn't do anything but stand and watch (and cough) as the woman (what *was* she?!) tore herself down from the wall, then proceeded to run to grab-- her journal? Seriously? The Cajun coughed again and lifted his hand up over his face. He was starting to feel *really* sick. But even better, she came back a moment later, then started having a conversation with him like this was normal, and everything was okay, and-- she didn't have to breathe? She was gripping onto his sleeve a moment later and he squinted down red eyes, because the toxins were really starting to sting. Everywhere. So when she announced she was ready to get out of there, all the red-head could do was nod and cough again, heading right for the exit on calculated steps, so that he wouldn't slip in the muck on the ground. With the crutches still over his shoulder, he went out with her. Out of the ruined pharmacy and into the clear, wonderful air. And once outside, Gambit was dropping the crutches, pulling down his turtleneck, and throwing up near the building.

Well. That had gone all wrong. He'd been in there to rescue her, and she'd ended up rescuing him. After a few seconds, he was wiping at his mouth with his sleeve and looking over at her with wider eyes. She certainly did look ghoulish. She looked like a zombie out of that movie, Dawn of the Dead, except.. no blood dripping from her mouth, and she could talk-- and wasn't yelling for brains. "Non, not human in 'de stric'es' sense." He felt okay admitting that to her, because she certainly wasn't human. "Wha' are you?" He wanted to know. Badly. He was wiping at his mouth again, then was bending to grab the crutches, might as well take them to the gym. And he was slowly beginning to walk, keeping his eyes on her. She was really pretty, and he was really taken with her take-charge attitude. Only problem? She looked like she was.. rotting.

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