Hell, it looks red in all the pictures (Open) PG13

[Wanda Maximoff]

"Halleluiahs
Offered down on the floor
Nobody goes above decks
No, not no more
They say the sun is still shining
That you can feel it in your core
But I ain't seen nobody move
That weren't going for the door"
- Matthew Good, "Champions of Nothing"

*This thread will not include any graphic sex, but could include violence and the discussion of sex as something that people have with each other from time to time. Four letter words may also be used. Nothing that you wouldn't see on HBO or after nine on cable.

Nightclubs in America were disturbingly unlike the Cantina scene from the second Star Wars film. When she first arrived at the Xavier Institute and was trying\ to adapt to life as a normal American, Wanda had thought that the original Star Wars filmed depicted a more or less accurate vision of America. She had understood that they were fiction, and that things like light-sabers and X-Wings did not exist, but at the very least a night club should be exciting and full of life like the one she saw.

Instead while it was full of people, everyone seemed to have an air of desperation about them. She had heard one of the other teachers refer to Halo as a "mutant meat market" which after a few inquiries she had found out meant that this was where mutants went to meet for a quick fling. The idea was as foreign to her as the idea that some how chickens could be made into things called nuggets, which helped to explain her immediate unease upon entering the nightclub.

Everyone was dressed like Emma Frost. That was the most frightening thing. In her entire life she had never seen so many bellybuttons, both male and female. Had her command of English been better she would have joked to herself that she was seeing as many navels as an admiral. Or maybe she would have not, it doesn't look as funny on the screen as it sounded in my head.

Regardless, she pressed forward towards the bar. At the very least she could get a drink and then leave. Since Halo was one of the few places outside of either Xavier's or District X that those with visible mutations felt safe, it had turned into a bit of a neutral ground for mutants and humans. From what she understood some humans even used it as a place to find a mutant to have sexual congress with.

Her purpose there was less than clear. Over the course of the last year the Xavier Institute, and the X-Men in particular, had found it useful to monitor the goings on at the club. Nothing specific, but to be seen around there as semi-regulars. It allowed them to keep their ear(s) close to the ground to pick up on any major threats that might be brewing. Tonight was Wanda's turn in the club and she felt that she stood out like a sore thumb. She had dressed in what she thought were hip clothes, but jeans and a tight red turtle neck sweater were not exactly what was passing for fashion.

Moving to the bar she ordered a Stella, and paid for it. Leaning against the bar she looked out at the rest of the club and the dance floor. Next time she was going to insist that someone from the Institute come with her.

[Remy LeBeau]

Club Halo had made a reputation for itself as being the one stop shop for all your mutant lover needs. No matter who, or rather what, you were looking for in a partner it could be found within the confines of these walls. In simple terms it was the local sex shop for mutants of all varieties and the occasional human who didn't mind any disfiguring mutations. For Remy LeBeau the place served as a hangout when he wasn't out working for Magneto, stealing something for money, or swindling money down in District X. The place always had some form of "companionship" for the Cajun on those cold lonely nights and some of the best drinks a mutant could get.

Since he had nothing better to do, Remy Lebeau had walked himself down to the mutant nightclub looking for some form of entertainment or another. His moonshine reserves had fallen rather lax as of late and the man was in need for a good amount of alcohol to help pass the time until something exciting happened around the Brotherhood hideout. Entering the club from the alley door, the Cajun bypassed the scantly clad dancers shaking what their mothers gave them on the floor and moved right on to the bar. Greeting the bartender with his usual wave of a wad of cash, Remy ordered the strongest whisky in stock and moved on to the end of the bar. Or rather that had been his plan.

Just as soon as his crimson eyes gazed upon the length of the bar a familiar site rang out to his eyes. Red turtle neck and a pair of jeans with brown hair flowing onto the counter. The Cajun almost chuckled at how clearly Ms. Wanda Maximoff stood out against the crowd of scantly clad men and women occupying the club. Then again with a black wife beater, a tan long coat, and a pair of ripped blue jeans Mr. Lebeau didn't exactly blend in either. But with flaming eyes he never was one to fit in with a crowd around him, and as such never really cared to blend in.

Finding it would be far more productive to stand out in a pair, Gambit slunk his way over to where the woman was sitting against the bar and dropped himself down onto the stool next to the woman. "Y' stick out like a sore thumb in those clothes, chere," the Cajun drawled out, making note of the rather conservative clothing style the woman had chosen for this night. "y' look far too sophisticated for dis place."

[Wanda Maximoff]

"y' look far too sophisticated for dis place."

Wanda tried to resist looking into his eyes this time. The last time she had been around him she had figured out that something about the red orbs drew her in and seemed to make her lose sense of herself. Not quite like Saruan's hypnotic glare, no it was much more pleasant than that, but she just felt so good around him. Wanda rarely felt good, she always felt guilty about what she had done, or what she had failed to do. At best she felt confused by the culture of America. Good was rare, and tended to be limited to time with students or when she allowed herself to believe that maybe Scott and her had something. They did not, and she knew that but it was fun to believe.

"Well nobody has called me sophisticated," she said, smiling and taking a sip of her beer, "ever. I tend to be something of the... what is the word for someone who is uncultured or not properly trained? Hick?" It was a term she had once heard thrown at one of the Guthrie girls, and after investigating its meaning she had decided that it probably applied to her. Especially around Emma Frost she felt as if she had just stepped out of the cabin in Eastern Europe the day before. Even now she did not understand why some people insisted on using more than one fork during a single meal.

"If you mean I do not quite understand this environment then," her eyes studied his body, his chin and everything but his eyes as she tried to look like she was looking at him without being obvious that she was avoiding looking at him. It did not quite work, and she caught his gaze, or he caught hers. Her body relaxed ever so slightly and a far away smile spread across her face. "you are right..."

Worry about the effects of his gaze faded quickly. Instead she simply felt everything else sort of going off into the background. Forgetting about why she was there, she simply was so interested in his being there. She wanted to hear his voice. She even wanted to reach out and touch him, but her reserved and shy nature kept her back.

"I never figured out quite how I know you..." she said quietly. He had said that he had seen her during the District X events, but that had not quite added up. He was attractive, sure, but she had seen so many mutants that day that unless there was something to distinguish him from the others she would not have remembered him. It was awful hard to worry about it but something nagged at her. They had met Mr. X. They had met the human authorities. They had met her father and his... "Brotherhood?"

[Remy LeBeau]

Almost immediately Wanda began denying her sophisticated look, writing it off as looking like a hick as she called it. Apparently the woman felt that she would fall under the category of uncultured when compared to the rest of the people in the club. Perhaps that was true, but being the poor sap that he was the Cajun wasn't about to agree with the woman on her ideals. He wasn't going to not agree with the woman however, he was far too busy staring at her form, mesmerized by her gypsy beauty. The poor sap.

From her assumption about being uncultured, Wanda went on to assume that his comment on her sophistication came from her lack of understanding of their current environment. "Wha's not to understand 'bout dis place," he asked, inquiring about to what the world was so difficult to understand about Club Halo. "it's jus' a place for mutants t' go and find somebody t' shag wit'." The places business was rather clear, or at least Remy thought it was.

His time to dwell on the woman's lack of understanding of the role this club played in the everyday lives of the mutant population for soon she began to inquire once more as to how she knew him. It didn't take her long however, as soon she deduced that he was indeed from her father's Brotherhood of Mutants. "Y' guessed it, chere," he drawled in that thick accent of his. "Magneto helped me outta a tight spot, so I've been helpin' him out wit' his goals." He took a swig from the bottle of whiskey in his hand as he finished speaking, quenching his thirst for something to put his mind away in its own little corner while his body did what it did best.

[Wanda Maximoff]

"it's jus' a place for mutants t' go and find somebody t' shag wit'."

Wanda had not heard that British-ism, and had not ever watched the Austin Powers films, so she looked at Remy blankly. Shaking her head slightly she replied, "I do not understand what that means. Shag. Like the carpet. I believe this was a place where people went to meet a mate for sex."

Having said the word she blushed, suddenly understanding why someone might want to come here for that purpose. The idea of a one night stand was still difficult to wrap her head around, the idea of reaching across the three foot gap and touching Remy was getting more appealing by the moment and thus a one night stand began to seem so much more reasonable.

"Magneto helped me outta a tight spot, so I've been helpin' him out wit' his goals."

Her father had helped him out, of course. Her father helped out mutants regularly, she owed Magneto her life as did Pietro. She loved her father, even now that he had threatened to kill her if she ever stood in his way, and yet she knew that she would stand in his way if their respective paths ever required it. Thankfully for now they could enjoy their secretive lunches every month, and when they had met officially had managed to work together as opposed to try to destroy each other. The information that he gave her might have jolted another X-Woman out from the power of his gaze, but Wanda was already pre-disposed to trusting her father, and so she simply nodded. Her father, for all his faults, had never lied to her. If he was with her father, then in an odd way she trusted him.

Or at least she wanted to very badly.

"My fa..." she stopped, not quite wanting to reveal that yet, "Magneto helped me out as well. He saved my life, when I was young."

It was likely that he knew who she was, knew of her relation to Magneto. She had addressed Magneto as "father" multiple times while they worked together in District X and even before that she had known that many of the Brotherhood members had known her. Two certainly had since they had managed to attack her in a department store. Normally she would have felt in danger, or as if she should be suspicious but the feeling just would not surface.

[Remy LeBeau]

[/b][/color] he told the woman, explaining his words in a rather vague way. Perhaps he should have just used her term. The woman obviously seemed to understand American terms far more easier than those of another country that had integrated themselves in with the American public, but with the Cajun's broken english even that was probably hard for her to understand.

"My fa... Magneto helped me out as well. He saved my life, when I was young."

For a second the woman sounded as if she were going to call Magneto her father as she had done the other day when he'd run into her in District X. Had she really not expected him to remember that Anya Lensherr was her sister, and that the fact that she was her sister made it quite obvious that Magneto was her father? Remy was a sucker for a woman, not an idiot. He didn't bother to point out that she didn't have to hide who her father was from him. Wanda would speak however she chose, just the sound of her voice brought a smile to the Cajun's sly lips.

"Well dat was awful nice of him," he stated playing along with her conversation. "He seems t' have saved a lot o' mutants in his day." From what the Cajun knew Magneto was quit the savior to mutants that had now where else to go, rescuing them from the humans and offering them the means to fight back and take the world for mutant kind. He was no broker of peace by any means though, unlike the bunch at that mutant school he chose force to deal with the Homo Sapiens of the world.
[/ul]

[Wanda Maximoff]

"Yeah," Wanda sighed, agreeing far more readily than she normally would. The idea that Magneto had helped many mutants was essentially true, but he had also put their race into a far more dangerous position thanks to his continued attacks on the humans. That and he's murderous streak was something that his daughter could not overlook, and had found herself unable to abide while she was in the Brotherhood. There was also a conclusion forming slowly in her mind about Remy, that he had said he was helping her father meant something. It meant that he was... what? Handsome? Possibly, but there was something else.

"You are," she started and looked away from his eyes trying to gather her thoughts. She had it for a moment but looking back at him she melted, the conclusion she had reached fading away, "quite handsome."

No. That had not been what she had wanted to say. She felt herself blush, her pale skin filling with colour as she began to match the clothes she wore. Again she looked away, forcing herself to look at the dance floor and the people on the dance floor all... dancing. All half dressed and here to mate. She swallowed and grabbed her glass of beer and took a sip to try to collect herself.

Remy was working with her father. She recognized him before he had come to the centre. Remy was working with her father and had been during the Decimation Crisis. Remy was in the Brotherhood. This time she held onto it. "You're in the Brotherhood, I just put that together. Are you here to try to kill me again?"

Wanda could not be sure if Pagan and Omega Red had been sent to kill her, but they had come close. Now she was alone in a bar with a Brotherhooder who everytime she looked at him she seemed to lose herself.