HERO
16
Years Old
Female
52 Posts
Ms Marvel
Ms Marvel
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Post by Kamala Khan on May 15, 2014 22:21:48 GMT -5
"Thank you very much." Kamala curtsied stiffly as she stood outside the principal's office. "I expect good things from you, miss Khan. Make sure to explain your situation on Monday to the teacher." A female voice answered. The new student nodded vigorously to the parting words before closing the door. She paused for a moment, holding her breath. I made it. I got into the École Internationale! Letting go of the breath, Kamala felt herself relax. She slumped onto the opposite wall, sitting on the cold stone floor. "Maybe this whole New York thing pans out after all." It was a prestigious private Manhattan school. You didn't get in here without either a lot of money or connections with France. But with her grades and the awkwardness of the whole New York bubble situation, they had accepted her. Life, after the initial awkwardness, seemed to settle again for Kamala.
A minute later and the newly minted student got up, rubbing her eyes in the process. Then she walked through the administrative aisle back into the main building. It was bustling around in a way that just didn't happen at Kamala's old school. Not on a Friday afternoon, at least. Unsure where the exit was, the young woman looked around. There were a lot of faces. She recognized none of them, of course. So many white people. There were also a couple of Arabs. Probably from old colonies that inherited the French school system. And probably well to do to come here. Kamala felt quite disoriented. The school was noisy, just like any other school. She caught a few words of French. I guess I'll ahve to crush up on that. And unlike others, she wouldn't be able to afford a tutor. The principal had mentioned there were plenty of French college students willing to tutor Americans, but for a price. But Kamala was already lucky to not have to pay tuition fees. Because she was relying on her life savings to get through this New York ordeal, she couldn't afford the luxury of tutors. "I've always done well on my own." And the principar had said she was confident in her ability to adapt and embrace the rigors of the French Baccalaureat program.
Kamala bumped into a few students running off to classes -high school life wasn't so different here after all- before reaching the exit. She opened it, breathing in a giant gulp of fresh air. The École International had a magnificent inner courtyard, with a small garden in the center of Manhattan! Kamala sighed. "Maybe I'll stay a little longer." With a satisfied smile on her face, the girl walked over to one of the empty benches, dropped her schoolbag on it before collapsing onto the relaxing piece of furniture. "So tired."
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ANTI-HERO
Da name is Gambit. Remember it mon ami!
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Post by Remy LeBeau on May 18, 2014 5:36:54 GMT -5
Trapped. Trapped like a rat that fell into a den of cats.
This feeling was one that Remy LeBeau should have been used to. It was a feeling that the Cajun mutant seemed to experience almost every weekend it seemed. Whether he was surrounded by giant, mutant hating robots, running away from bounty hunters, dodging angry boyfriends after a night with their girl, or even in a "supermax" prison that claimed to be inescapable, Gambit was quite used to the notion of being trapped.
But this was different.
In all of the aforementioned situations, Remy had found a way to get himself out of trouble and continue to live his life as a free spirited thief/superhero. If what Pietro had told him was indeed true, then his entire world was about to become far more complicated. Remy was the first person to tell you that he hated the idea of settling in, the mere notion of staying in one place for too long. It was the main reason why he had often taken long leaves of absence from the X-Men and the institute when he was a teacher. There was this thirst of adventure inside him that refused to settle down. A thirst that he had to satisfy often to prevent himself from going crazy.
But now, Remy thought as he walked down the busy New York street, the free bird had been caged. His world had just gotten much smaller. No more palaces in Wakanda to plunder, no more dive bars in the Big Easy to thrive in, no more beauties in Paris to swoop up.
With a quiet sigh, Remy strolled down the block, red eyes searching for any sort of excitement to take his mind off his troubles.
He didn't have to look far before that familiar roguish grin crossed his bearded face.
Inside a courtyard directly across the street, stood a young blonde, mid twenties by the looks of it, dressed in slacks and a nice blazer, carrying a pile of books in her hands. Closer examination revealed that the courtyard was part of a school, and this pretty young thing had to be a teacher.
Sure not his usual type, but Remy was in no mood to complain. Instead, he strolled right into the courtyard, eyes never leaving his target, and started to prepare use one of his usual lines.
Fate it seemed wasn't that kind for Remy however, as the teacher had entered the building before Remy had the chance to catch up with her. Disappointment tainting his handsome features, Remy put his hands in his leather jacket pockets and turned to look around the courtyard. He was many things, but a stalker wasn't one of them. So, instead of entering the institute and pursuing her, Remy opted to sit out on a nearby bench to contemplate his situation.
He soon realized that he wasn't alone, as red eyes tinted by dark sunglasses turned to face the second occupant of the bench. She was a young girl of Middle Eastern descent, most likely a student of some sort.
"Bonjour petite." Remy greeted, his eyes slowly shifting down towards the backpack she had carried, the thief in him speculating the contents.
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HERO
16
Years Old
Female
52 Posts
Ms Marvel
Ms Marvel
|
Post by Kamala Khan on May 19, 2014 22:36:45 GMT -5
Kamala turned her head around as a man sat next to her. Is he a teacher? He didn't look like one. Maybe it was his clothes, or the way he held himself. But when he spoke, any doubt was dispelled. "Petite?" I really have to work on my French. The girl tried to make eye contact, hoping to get a hint of what the man had said. But shades prevented her from seeing the man's eyes and she was left guessing. "Er, Hi. I'm Kamala." She extended her hand for a friendly shake. "I'm going to be a student in your school." Maybe she was talking to her future math teacher. The thought made Kamala smile. Her previous math teacher had been overweight and would never think of wearing sunglasses. It just wouldn't fit. "What do you teach?"
Remembering she had packed food, Kamala opened her school bag and quickly dropped her hand inside. After rummaging for a few moments a brown bag with a peanut butter jelly sandwich appeared together with a bottle of water. Kamala the student smiled apologetically, "I haven't had lunch yet." The girl waited a moment for a reaction. If the sight of her food disturbed the man, she was ready to postpone her meal. But if he didn't seem to mind, Kamala would take a big bite out of the sandwich. Using her powers made the young hero hungry. "Do you mind?" Kamala was pretty focused on her food. This was a safe space after all. The girl wished her original school had felt nearly as safe. Though a bit of diversity would not hurt this place. She wondered if any of the students were mutants. But then, there was no effective way to tell. Visible mutations probably were a no-no for admission.
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ANTI-HERO
Da name is Gambit. Remember it mon ami!
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Post by Remy LeBeau on Jul 15, 2014 13:02:55 GMT -5
"Petite?" The girl stated, her face displaying a quizzical expression that Remy found quiet humorous. Ever since he was young street rat growing up in the Big Easy, Remy had a very distinct speaking method. Being bilingual, Remy had a habit of inserting various French phrases into his sentences. Some people, like Pietro and Logan, found it very annoying. But others, such as the ladies, found his speaking pattern to be rather charming. This one however, seemed to be rather confused by his greeting.
"Er, Hi. I'm Kamala." She introduced finally, extending her hand out to shake his own. "I'm going to be a student in your school."
Oh the poor girl thought he was a teacher. Seeing how he was the only adult in this courtyard at the moment, it was easy to see how she would assume such a thing. Remy chuckled mentally at the thought of him being a teacher. His last teaching gig didn't exactly go that well, but honestly, it was for the best. Remy LeBeau was simply not the type to be sitting around in a classroom all day, sharing whatever knowledge he had on whatever subject Logan had assigned him to teach with a bunch of kids. Half the time, Remy wasn't even in the class room. All that time was spent in various places such as New Orleans, England and heck even a little adventure into Stark Tower.
Such thoughts aside, Remy decided that until he found more entertaining for him to do, he would humor Kamala for bit, pretending to be the aforementioned teacher at this school.
"Professor LeBeau at your service. It's a pleasure ta meet you petite." Remy said, taking her hand to give her a gentle handshake. Kamala then asked him what it was that he taught. "I teach a variety o' things. Da list includes French an' Sex Ed. I take it you are a new student, non?"
It was at that particular moment that Kamala pulled her bag onto her lap, opening up to retrieve a lunch bag. Instantly, Remy's eyes darted towards the open main pocket, trying to get a hint of what could be hiding out in there. Sure, it could be mostly books and utensils, but maybe she could have stashed her purse in there.
She asked if he minded if she ate out here in front of him. He shook his head before flashing a smirk. "Not at all petite, you got another sandwich in dere dat bag of yours? I didn' bring a lunch of my own."
Remy waited for a response, his left hand subtly moving closer to the bag in the event that Kamala turned away for a brief second.
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