Home | Forum | Mailing List | Repository | Links | Gallery
 
 
Chapters
Prolog
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilog
 
 
 

The Vault - REVIEW THIS STORY

Written by NicoPony
Last updated: 08/15/2007 08:57:57 AM

Chapter 1

I Predict A Riot, Kaiser Chiefs

Watching the people get lairy

Is not very pretty I tell thee

Walking through town is quite scary

And not very sensible either

I predict a riot, I predict a riot

Remy LeBeau was staring down into the open backpack of the student seated in front of him. The student, only a year or two younger than Remy himself, was gazing blankly into space while toying with an infected lip-ring. He was seated in a lecture hall along with a class of sixty or so other students. The rows of seats slanted downward, facing a center podium where the tweedy Psychology 101 professor continued his diatribe.

Not for the first time this week, Remy wondered what he was doing here. Never in a million years did he imagine himself a college student, let alone a college student attending the affluent private university in the small city of Bayville. Charles Xavier, headmaster of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, had made it clear that if Remy wanted to stay at the Institute he would be expected to pursue a course in higher education. Apparently, a barely earned G.E.D. wasn’t going to cut it.

If it weren’t for Charles Xavier’s interference and his personal friendship with the Dean of Admissions, Remy wouldn’t have set foot in any classroom. Remy realized he’d been taken on as a charity case. Xavier had managed to smooth a path to the Dean, a Doctor Sean Cassidy. Xavier had explained to Dean Cassidy that Remy’s lack of formal education was due to an impoverished upbringing, bad parenting, and blah blah blah. From there, Remy had inadvertently managed to charm Dean Cassidy during the admissions interview. He was rather horrified to receive an acceptance letter a few days later. He was even more horrified to see the cost of tuition, which Xavier had so graciously paid for without even flinching.

Remy had no idea college would cost so much. If it weren’t for Xavier, he could’ve easily been in debt for the rest of his life. He didn’t understand why all these students weren’t shaking for fear in their little designer sneakers. He also didn’t know why Xavier was taking such a big gamble on Remy’s future. Nor did he understand why a student would so carelessly leave her backpack open even though it contained nearly five-hundred dollars worth of books. Remy had the same Art History book, and he knew that book alone had cost two-hundred dollars. He’d managed to wrangle used copies of all the books, and the price-tag had still made him gag.

The bookstore took back books the during the first weeks of classes, no receipt, no questions asked. They refunded students in cash. Remy wriggled his toes to tap his flip-flop against his heel. His fingers unconsciously gripped the edges of his desk, as if to resist the urge to steal.

That was when Remy noticed a pencil trundling down the aisle toward him. It stopped a few inches from his foot, then began to spin. It rose up a few inches from the floor and poked him in the foot, then inverted itself and wrote on the floor tiles: PAY ATTENTION!

Remy looked up from the message to where Jean Grey was seated a few chairs away. She was studiously taking notes as the professor explained the syllabus. This class meant something to her, at least. She’d decided to pursue a degree in child psychology. Remy’s own student status read UNDECLARED, which in his opinion, was an excellent summation of his life so far. Jean, on the other hand, seemed to know what she was doing. Poised and intelligent, she excelled both academically and socially. She had been accepted into Bayville University’s accelerated honors program and was a pledge in the school’s most popular sorority. Remy would have found her intolerable if she weren’t so damn nice. The fact that she was drop-dead gorgeous didn’t hurt either.

She spared him a quick glance and he favored her with a big insincere smile. Jean rolled her eyes before turning back to her notes. Remy must have missed some unheard signal, because the students around him began to gather up their belongings in a shuffle that drowned out the remainder of the professor’s lecture. With some remorse, Remy watched as the girl in front of him zipped up her backpack, hefted it over her shoulder and left the classroom. He slumped in his seat with a sigh.

“Ready to go?” Jean asked, then cocked her head to beckon him along.

“Is the semester over yet?” Remy asked, sliding out of his seat and shoving his book and notepad into his pin-covered bookbag.

Jean raised and lowered her shoulders with a put-upon sigh. “C’mon, let’s go to the library and download those articles for class.”

“There’s a library?”

Jean shook her head and walked up the aisle to the exit. Remy trotted after her. “I’ve got a better idea,” he said. “I saw one of those pretentious coffee shops on the edge of campus. How about we go there for a café au lait and you share your notes with me?” He snagged her notebook from her arms before she could protest.

“How about you pay attention in class, and take your own notes?” she replied, trying to snatch back her notebook. He held it just out of her reach, and put his other arm around her shoulders and squeezed her against his side.

“C’mon, Jeannie. I could use a little help here. Be my study-buddy, enh?” This time his smile was charming and persuasive.

Jean tossed her red locks over her shoulder. “Rogue warned me about you, so don’t try any of that smooth-talk with me.” She didn’t protest his arm around her shoulders, however. “Maybe you’re right, we deserve a coffee break after that two-hour lecture.”

“And then you can introduce me to some of your hot sorority sisters,” Remy added.

This time, Jean shrugged out from under Remy’s arm. “Ha, don’t push it, buster,” she said with a laugh. She waved a finger under his nose in admonishment. “Do you flirt with every girl you meet?”

“Jus’ the most beautiful ones,” he said, lowering his mirrored sunglasses and winking at her.

Jean held her arms out to her sides and looked skyward, as if to say: “What am I going to do with you?”

Remy perused Jean’s meticulous notes. “Hey, these are pretty good. Maybe we should go to the library so I can photocopy them.”

This time Jean managed to grab her notes and yank them from Remy’s grip. She then slapped him on top of the head with the notebook. “You can copy them out longhand,” she replied. “Honestly, didn’t you find the lecture interesting at all?”

Remy rubbed the top of his head idly, his expression blank.

“It was all about the ethics of psychological experimentation,” Jean continued. “Zimbardo’s Stanford Prison Experiment...Is any of this ringing a bell with you?”

“If someone wanted to experiment on my father while he’s in prison, they can go right ahead,” Remy replied. “’Specially if it involves sharp, pointy things.”

The two continued their walk across the green lawns of Bayville U’s campus. “The experiment didn’t take place in an actual prison, Remy. It was a simulation...to see how people react in a prison environment, the psychological response to authority and imprisonment. Of course, such an experiment couldn’t be done today, as it’s ethically unsound to---.” She slapped Remy again with her notebook, since he was pretending to sleepwalk, his head thrown back, mouth open and snoring.

“You’re incorrigible!”

“Need coffee...” he intoned.

“Fine! Let’s cut across the quad, it’ll be faster,” Jean said. But as they rounded the corner of one of B.U.’s ivy-covered brick buildings, they were brought up short by the sight of an amassing crowd.

“Hm, what’s goin’ on?” Remy asked. “That crazy preacher ranting about the end of the world again?”

“No...It’s not him,” Jean said. Reverend Stryker had been led off campus in handcuffs the week prior, after admonishing anyone within shouting distance that mutants were the children of Satan, and the school was damned to Hell for allowing mutants on campus. Jean sensed the unrest of the crowd with her telepathic powers. Along the perimeter of the group, several students appeared nervous as they looked around for any authority figures. The center of the crowd was far more rowdy. Several shouts and harsh laughter could be heard. Jean moved forward.

“We’re not walkin’ into that mess, are we?” Remy asked.

Jean didn’t reply, but continued to walk through the crowd. With a telepathic nudge, she made students part before her. Remy reluctantly followed. As students parted, Remy heard catcalls and caught glimpses of sneering faces.

At the center of the quad was the huge boulder that had sat on campus since the school’s founding. The Greek frats and student groups often painted the rock in celebration of events at B.U., dubbing it the ’Spirit Rock.’ There were several boys holding spray-paint cans crouched in front of the Spirit Rock. The day before, the rock had been painted in the red and gold school colors in celebration of the upcoming Homecoming game. Today it was painted black with a big red circle in the middle. The circle had been crossed out with a big black X and it bore the epithet Muties Go Home! in white.

“Is that the best they could come up with?” Remy muttered. Racism was all too familiar, and he found he was mostly numb to it. “Real nice.”

The boys finished their work and stood to face Jean, who was advancing toward the rock.

“Take that off,” she said coldly to the boys.

The boys clustered closer together as they mustered their resolve. Their expressions were at once defiant and sullen. Apparently, they hadn’t expected to be caught vandalizing the Spirit Rock by an actual mutant. Jean Grey was easily recognizable from her appearances on the local and national news and her affiliation with the Xavier Institute.

“You’ve got your own freak school, why don’t you just stay there?” one of the boys said.

“I’ve earned my right to be here,” Jean snapped. “The same as everyone else!”

“Uhm...” Remy said, as the crowd closed in around them. People vied for a better view of the Spirit Rock and Jean Grey.

“You aren’t the same!” another boy called, jabbing a finger at Jean. “You’re not wanted here! You people aren’t wanted anywhere!”

“You get rid of that---!” Jean shouted angrily, pointing her own finger at the rock. “Or I will!”

“Jeannie, jus’ forget it,” Remy put a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged him off. “Let’s just get out of here,” he pressed.

“You heard your freakazoid friend,” the bully said. “Beat it!”

“I don’t take orders from bigots!” Jean snapped. “And I won’t stand here and be insulted by the likes of you! Remember that!” Jean’s hand flew out, slashing through the air.

With that, the Spirit Rock cracked in two.

 

GambitGuild is neither an official fansite of nor affiliated with Marvel Enterprises, Inc.
Nonetheless, we do acknowledge our debt to them for creating such a wonderful character and would not dream of making any profit from him other than the enrichment of our imaginations.
X-Men and associated characters and Marvel images are © Marvel Enterprises, Inc.
The GambitGuild site itself is © 2006 - 2007; other elements may have copyrights held by their respective owners.