The Xavier Institute for Higher Learning
The stranger paced down the hall of the mansion’s second floor.
Who are dese people? he wondered. He had heard reports of a mutant “super-hero” group but dismissed it.
Mutants as super-heroes? Never happen!>>
Don’t be so sure about that, my friend. I don’t know if you would call my students super heroes but you can say that their motives and actions are for the good of others.<<
What d’ hell? the stranger thought as he quickly turned to see a bald man sitting in a wheelchair being accompanied by the red head from last night.
>>
I hope you found the accommodations to your liking,<< the voice said. >>
You are among friends.<<
The Stranger’s eyes glowed and Jean began to step from behind the chair. The Professor raised his hand, indicating that she stop. “I do apologize for reading your thoughts,” he said. “It was just that that thought was so powerful that I couldn’t help but catch it.”
The Stranger relaxed. “I ain’t been here but a li’l bit and you people done already tried ta get into my mind twice.” He looked at Jean. “What kinda people are you, chere?”
“I think I can answer that for you, young man, “ the Professor interjected. “My name is Charles Xavier and you are at my Institute for Higher Learning.” He rolled by the Stranger and into his office. Jean motioned for the Stranger to follow. “Let me assure you, we do not normally bring strangers into our midst without first having some prior knowledge of them, but, as you know, last night’s circumstances were not normal.”
“You can say dat again,” the stranger snickered. “I had a run in wit a li’l runt with some big ol’ claws.”
“I assure you that the ‘runt’, as you call him, is not someone with whom you want to find yourself on opposing sides,” the Professor responded. “But, now that you are here, I would like a name and I want to know who you are.”
“Listen,” the stranger said, “I ain’t come here except cause you people asked me ta last night, tryin’ ta help d’ tin man back here. I ain’t into bein’ a part of your school or nothin’. I got my own education and ain’t got no need for no X-Men.”
“Times are dangerous,” Jean commented. “You are a mutant like us and we can help protect you.”
The stranger looked at Jean and back to the Professor. “I don’ tink you gettin’ da message, chere. I ain’t interested in no X-Men or bein’ a part of dis school. I just said that. What u need ta do, read my mind again to get the answer?”
Jean began to counter his comments but the Professor spoke up. “You are free to leave whenever you want. You are a guest here and it is our wish to treat you as such.” The Professor leaned toward the stranger. “But, before you leave, know this. These are not the best times to be a mutant. At least, within there walls, mutants can be safe from those who would hunt us down.” The Professor leaned back and rolled his chair to the window. As he looked down, he said, “We have students here. Children who do not know how to use their abilities like Jean, myself, and you obviously do.” He looked at the stranger. “Yes, I do have a team that operates sometimes as a strike force.” His gaze returned to the window. “If anything, the X-Men exist to protect the children below.”
The stranger joined the Professor at the window. He saw several students on the back lawn playing a game of soft ball. He recognized the pitcher as being the young girl he had met the night before. She was pitching a curve ball to a batter who looked completely black with small dots appearing and disappearing around his body. The batter hit the ball and began to run as the ball flew higher than he had expected. Below, he saw a tall and skinny kid look up at the ball and clench his fists and his lower body seemed to erupt with energy as he flew through the air like a cannonball to catch the ball.
The stranger looked back at the Professor. “Not an ordinary game of catch, eh?”
The Professor laughed. “No, not an ordinary game.”
The stranger backed away from the window and towards the door. He looked at Jean. “Now look, chere. If you all gone be wanting me to be staying here for a li’l while, you best be showin’ me ‘round.”
Jean smiled.
The stranger looked back at the Professor. “This ain’t gone be no permanent ting. I helped you get the Tin Man home and since I was in de Big Apple to do some business anyways so I guess it ain’t no harm in stayin’ here for a few. Anyting beats some a the places I stayed before.”
Jean joined him.
“Oh, and by the way, de name’s Remy,” he smiled. “But you can call me Gambit.”
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