HermesSerpent

Remy sits on his bed looking out the window and rubbing his arms. That conversation had been… long and odd. Xaiver had explained his powers and the powers of the other mutants residing in the house. 

Then they had discussed Remy's training. Xaiver seemed eager to figure out just how tied to emotions Remy's powers are, using his powers to bring about thoughts to influence Remy's mood with Remy's permission. It had been a weird intrusive feeling. Like a wet lock of hair stuck under a shirt. Uncomfortable and icky. Xaiver had seemed surprised at the comment, noting that most people did not notice his intrusion. Remy is not sure what to think of that other than to be a little disturbed.

He lays down fully on his bed and stares at the ceiling. His fingers twitch against the blankets. His eyes close and he hums gently 

--+

A while later, after hes hauled himself into a tree on the shore line of a small pond, he hears Scott running nearby. Remy shuffles his cards a final time and then drops down out of the tree behind the other teen. Scott jumps but says nothing about being startled.

“There you are. The Prof. wanted me to go over sport options with you. We already have your classes picked out and your schedule made.”

Remy quirks his mouth a little at this. Had they spoken to Jean Luc about what he already knew? Remy would have liked to have had some input… ah well. Maybe no teen gets input in these northern schools.

“D’ccord. Where we be lookin’ at the lists?”

“Lets sit over there in the garden since its almost time for lunch.”

Scott gestures to an area closer to the house that has high bushes and flower beds that are currently waiting for spring. Remy nods, tucking his cards into his jean pocket.

“Lead the way.”

He says, eyes flickering about as they start to walk.

“The school has a lot of clubs and sports. Jeans on the soccer team. Shes one of their best. But you need to remember your not allowed to use your powers at school. So don't do something that might trigger it.”

“No sword fightin’ or knife throwin’ then.”

Remy says with a fake sigh. Scott shoots him a look.

“We go to a public school. There is no fencing team. And no school would ever teach knife throwing.”

“Mais they do teach chuck a ball. Eh, I suppose chuck a ball do be closer to lobbin’ grenades. Its what papa say anyway.”

Scott gives a concerned stare for a few seconds as they arrive at a small table and chairs.

“Are you always this violent?”

Remy huffs.

“I ain't been violent yet. Whatchu talkin’ bout?”

“Do not talk about knives and grenades at school.”

An order. Remy scrunches his nose.

“Not even in history class?”

Its a genuine question that earns him a ticked off huff.

“Dont be stupid. Just pay attention and only talk about it when the teacher has it as a topic. Not just at random.”

“... I thought it was relevant. We talk about weapons all the time back home.”

“Well this isn't there.”

“D’ccord.”

And that is true. This really isn't his home. Back home a fuller explanation would be given for a topic being off the table. Like when Henri sat him down and explained about not asking Jean Luc about his late wife.

They sit and begin talking through the clubs and sports.

“What’s this?”

Remy asks, tapping at the name of something in the list of sports.

“Oh, colorgaurd? They wave flags about during the halftime show at the football games. Its mostly a girl thing.”

Scott says.

“Id like to try it out.”

Xavier passes over a pair of sunglasses to Remy.

“You will need to wear these around the high school.” 

“I thought… I thought I was here to train?”

Remy asks, hesitantly holding the sunglasses that remind him a little of a welder's mask. Thick. Covering.

“Part of the agreement was that you would also be going to school. Bayville High to be specific. And while we welcome mutants of all forms in our home, we are not ready to share mutants with the world. It is dangerous. IKt could bring harm to everyone if anyone finds out.”

Xavier speaks coolly, leaving no room for arguments. Remy weighs the glasses. He needs the training. This is just part of the deal. He swallows harshly and slips the frames onto his face. He blinks. It is… murky. Like looking through a badly tinted window. He knows he will grow used to it with time, but it makes him feel blind. A thief who is blind is at risk.

…

Henri is partially blinded because he lost control. Remy swallows. He can handle a little darkness.

“Hmm. It sees that the glow of your eyes still pierces through. We will need to try a different tint before you go out of the house.”

Remy silently nods, knowing he has no say in this. He pulls off the glasses and rotates them in his hands. The light of the room stings a little, even though he had only been wearing the glasses for a moment. This is… this is going to be painful.

“When… when you think glasses will be ready?”

Remy asks, tapping the glasses against the table. 

“A day or so. Which will give you more time to explore the grounds and fill out the class and club paperwork.”

Remy nods slowly. That seems reasonable enough.

“Can I go to bed now, Monsieur?”

Remy asks, simply wanting to curl up and sleep. 

“This must have a very exhausting day. Go. Logan will get you up for breakfast.”

Remy nods and goes up the stairs, fingers still holding onto the glasses. He ends up sitting on the edge of his bed while he looks out the window. He slips them back on. Remy tries to imagine an even darker world. He wrinkles the bedding under his palms. His cheeks wet as he realizes he is giving up ever seeing any part of Bayville normally.  

He takes off the glasses. Darker. Darker than these.