Alternating Current (Gambit)

[Atta Swanson]

"Come on, come on, come onnnn" Atta pleaded with the light bulb in her hand. The teen licked her lips and took in a soft breath before her eyes cast to the heavens to beg any deity that would listen for this to work. Brilliant green hues lowered to the fragile object clutched in her finger tips. Her teeth drug over her bottom lip, holding it down and digging into it as she calmed her breathing and tried to focus. Slowly, and with a flicker at first the bulb illuminated at her touch, taking the energy from her own body and creating light. Swallowing the built up moisture at the back of her mouth she winced but it remained lit. Slowly a smile creeped to her lips and she swore she felt her heart stop and breath still. It was only a few seconds of bliss before the bulb suddenly brightened out of control and with a pop, darkness set back in.

"Oh SON OF A...." She hucked the bulb into a pile of shattered glass beside a perfectly good dumpster. Going the pile of 23 other bulbs she had purchased of various watts, shapes, sizes and brand names. Her hands rose to rub her tired and before down to grasp her shoulders as she drew her knees up close with a frown etched firmly onto her features. The cool breeze came off the ocean brushing past the old warehouse and seemingly right through her black and yellow and orange hoodie. She was glad she had chosen a long sleeve shirt underneath for added warmth as the night seemed to become some what chilly for her taste. Reaching for her back she rustled through the cans of paint and tools for the work of art she choose for the wall behind her. Getting to the base of the back and pulling out a mangled looking granola bar. Carefully pealing off the paint covered plastic before nibbling at the meal.

Atta had not been in San Fran for long, but already she was missing home. The bus had arrived at ten that evening and it was now some where near four in the morning, she assumed. Her phone having long since died as it normally did in her hands. To afraid it would explode if she tried to charge it. It had been random fate that brought her here and time was of no importance really. She was on her own and away from everything that haunted her in San Diego. No game plan, and a bus ride that had been chosen by good old 'which leaves next'. She figured with what she saved, she could get supplies, sell some of her work and eventually get her own place. Something like that, the alternative being to jump cities at random till she found the best place to settle.

"What am I doing?" she finally sighed realizing how ridiculous it really sounded now that she was sitting in the night alone and rather vulnerable. "This is crazy right?" she asked herself, having grown rather fond of vocalizing her thoughts. It might seem odd, but as some one who preferred their own space it was nice to hear something other than silence and city sounds. "Well, guess I can at least give it a few days right, what could that hurt?" she took another bite of her bar and glared at the pile of broken glass. Eyes locked on them as if some how simply staring would repair both them and herself. Oblivious for a moment to the world around her.

[Remy LeBeau]

"If the sun/Ain't shining bright/And the moon the moon/Won't shine for you tonight/If the stars in/the sky gone away/And you feel/Feelin' real low down today/If life gets hard to understand/And the whole thing is getting out of hand/Come to poppa." Bob Seger's baritone sang out of the motorcycle's speakers as Remy drove through the busy San Francisco streets. It had been a long time since the Cajun was able to ride his bike, considering the double duty he was pulling back in New York as a Superhero and a Teacher. He was thankful that he hadn't lost his skill. With a smirk, he pulled hard on the handle, popping a wheelie before he made a sharp turn to the right down the street.

What brought the Cajun to the city by the bay? It started when Rachel Summers explained to the X-Men that Cerebro had picked up a mutant living in San Diego a few days ago. After a lengthy discussion amongst themselves over retrieval plans, it was decided that Gambit would fly out to the West Coast and meet up with this new mutant before Cyclops got to him or her first. By decided, of course, that meant that Wolverine practically told Remy to do it before he gutted him. So, Remy and Storm took off in the Blackbird for San Diego. On the way, they received word that the mutant he was to extract was currently in San Francisco. A slight delay to his plan, but nothing he couldn't handle. After telling Storm to pick him up once he was done, Remy set out on his bike to locate the mutant.

Remy slowly pulled up in front of an old shipping container warehouse, taking in the ragged, worn foundation. According to Rachel, this was where the mutant would be. Remy sighed slightly as he pulled out a cigarette from his coat pocket and lit it. A mutant on the run. It reminded him of his own childhood, running around from place to place. Perhaps that was part of the reason why he of all people was sent to pick up this mutant. Remy was used to dealing with street life.

As he walked towards the building, the sound of glass shattering caught his attention. He chucked the cigarette away and quickly drew a card from his pocket, charging it simultaneously. The noise was coming from the side of the building, Remy realized. Perhaps it was the mutant? There was only one way to find out.

Remy slowly powered down the card and shoved it into his sleeve, just in case. He stuck his head out around the corner to see a young girl with electric blonde hair taking a bite out of a candy bar of some sort. Broken glass shards were scattered over the pavement as the butts of broken light bulbs lay among the debris. Remy let a polite smile cross his face as he spoke up.

"Bonjour petite, what brings you out here t'night?"

[Atta Swanson]

Ripples of panic shot up her spine, and she could feel the electricity move with it. Her skin tingled from head to toe as her body defensively charged itself, primed from all the effort put into trying to get a steady glow from the bulbs scattered around her. Dropping the bar she got to her feet turning to where the accented voice had reached her from. Eyes instantly narrowed and heart racing in her chest, pounding hard enough it almost hurt. The dim wharf lights seemed to glow slightly brighter as she faced Remy for the first time.

Atta was used to being on her own at night, but rarely did she encounter some one, and even when that happened there was generally no speech between them. Here was some one though, not only out and about the docks at this hour, but cocky enough to speak up without fear. Her mind was racing with ways to make a run for it, for all she knew this guy was some thug looking to maintain his 'territory' or any other number of shady figures. Swallowing her fear she held her ground not wanting to look weak, or that she would make an easy target. "None of your business buddy" she snapped, lashing out like a cat backed into a corner. She could feel every hair on her body was up on alert, there was a heat to her skin she was unfamiliar with but it was comforting, empowering. Every nerve was dialed in and on edge, eyes locked on the older male, and her muscles were taught with energy encase she needed to activate that fight or flight instinct inherit in all the animal kingdom.

Atta was aware if it came to a struggle, she had a deadly card to play, but that very thought had her almost more afraid then the stranger of the night whom spoke to her. Cautiously she looked him over but when her eyes met his for the first time a whole new wave of fear gripped her. Black and red, no one had black and red eyes, not even contacts could look that natural. Who and what was this guy? A mutant, different like her? In that case what could he do? She knew she had become dangerous because of this 'gift', but what of others.

Stopping herself from shivering under the intense emotions coursing her body she was otherwise frozen, waiting to see if there would be hostility. His voice had not conveyed any intention to harm her, but a coy tone could be just as dangerous as an aggressive one. "T..tell me what you want or move on!" she tried to sound in charge of the situation but there was a tremor in her tone. God she wished she had not left home now, why had she left her dad, what would he do if she wound up dead. What was she supposed to do,or was this the worlds justification for her actions? Like a deer in headlights she stood there braced and with a slightly noticeable tremble.

[Remy LeBeau]

Her instantaneous reaction to his calm voice was the first indicator that Remy could have been more tactful in his approach.

Spooked out from the sudden appearance of the X-Man, the girl rushed to her feet, fist clenched tightly as her eyes narrowed. She gave him a quick warning as the lights around them started to flicker on and off at an irregular beat. "So, maybe dat's her little trick" Remy thought as he held his hands up, shooting an ace of spades from his sleeve.

"Easy petite, Gambit just wants to talk to you." Remy said, offering a smile. He held his hands up in peace, though the ace of spades in his hands was ready to ignite in the moment that the teen wanted to throw a punch at him. This was not a job that Remy was used to dealing with. This was seriously Storm, Kitty or Iceman's job to deal with the kids. But no, here he was dealing with a mutant who had no control over her powers and he didn't have any idea how dangerous she could be. He had to play this from another angel.

Crimson eyes scanned around the alley way briefly. Surrounding the girl and himself were a pile of dead lightbulbs, an open bag with spray paint cans and a- wait a minute. Remy took a closer look at the pile of cans before trailing his eyes up to see a yellowish tag in the alley. Remy could still smell the wet paint drying on the brick wall. The word "VOLTAGE" was plastered across the wall in an electric yellow. A street rat himself, Remy was no stranger to the sounds and looks of the street. The art done here was obviously crafted from someone who had been living on the streets for quite some time.

And Remy was looking right at the artist herself.

"Voltage?" He mused as his full attention was turned to the work of art. "You do dis? Reminds me of da work my friends used ta do in da French Quarter back in da day." He said with a smile. "Gotta say, I'm impressed petite. Now how bout you listen to what I have ta say."

[Atta Swanson]

Gambit had continued to use a calmer tone, trying to relax her, to diffuse the tense situation and gain her trust. To be honest, it was working to. Atta had not dark desires to start a fight, or to be 'better' than anyone. She just wanted to safe and alive, two things that most anyone wanted. Her muscles slowly relaxed, the tension fading from her body and mind, but she could still feel the electrical current inside of her ever active.

Atta let her eyes flow over to the ace that had popped out of his sleeve, a flash of confusion in her eyes as she turned her gaze back to his black and red orbs. Was he some kind of magician? Who else carried cards around humorously 'up their sleeve'. Having no idea how much of an opposite to funny that card could quickly become in the hands of the Cajun 'hero'. She monitored his own vision, watching where he looked, trying to follow his thoughts and see just what it was he wanted out of her or the space she occupied. This, 'Gambit' guy did not exactly scream please trust me. So even with her nerves more in check, she felt little draw to trust him.

Seeing his eyes run over her cans and up to her wall, Atta became paranoid that an adverse reaction to her 'art' was about to erupt. There were few out there who saw tagging and street art as anything more than vandalism and a crime. She watched him, and judged in her mind how fast she could grab her back and book it. Each scenario ending her her getting caught, the time it would take to gather her things would be plenty for an in shape adult to make it over to her. Trapped she cautiously awaited his judgment, and was soon to be pleasantly surprised.

Gambit turned his focus to her art, and liked it. In that instant her view changed from complete paranoia and fear to surprise and intrigue. Like a deep breath of air after choking, it felt like a weight was lifted off the situation and she glanced up at her tag with half a smile. She had worked very hard to get her style down, and the name was really a part of her. "Yeah.." she admitted to the question of ownership. "Voltage, that's me.." she announced with a sudden pride to her voice. Turning to look back to him she crossed her arms, slowly letting cocky run the last bit of fear from her system. "I guess I could hear you out..even if you scream night predator.." she stated with a raised brow, hinting that an explanation for why he was out asking teen girls questions in alley's.

Slowly she knelt down and put away the last of her things, cramming them into her bag and zipping it up, waiting for him to ask and explain. Even though she was feeling far more at ease, having her bag ready was still important. On the streets you never knew when things would go south.