A sprinkle of faith, a dash of luck. That's what makes a damn good gumbo.
Holding a lit cigarette perched between his lips, Remy flipped through his deck of cards as he walked into the common room. Time had not been kind to the Ragin Cajun. From triumph to tribulation, his soul had grown tired. Love and loss danced hand in hand among the threads of Le Diable Blanc's soul..but those were words and thoughts he'd never share. He was a pillar to some, a ruffian to others, a lover to a select few, and a friend..a true friend to even fewer. Finally settling on a game of Solitaire on one of the tables, his eyes shifted along the creases and intricate designs that adorned each card. The esoteric King of Hearts. The enigmatic Ace of Spades. The wondrous and elusive Queen of Diamonds. To him, each card told a story. His story, set to different times and archetypes. With a flick of his thumb, Remy set the cards out in the proper order with minimal effort; card sharks and con men had little need for practice with such an amateur game when Five Card stud and others were more prominent. "Au revoir, m'sieur.." Crooned the Cajun, tapping a finalized set of cards. Before he knew it, three games had passed, but the inner turmoil he held day in and day out remained. The luck of the draw was not kind to this dealer in this context. His mind drifted to simpler times. Meeting Ororo back way when, his time with the Mauraders, A King of Thieves, his indoctrination into the teachings of Charles Xavier..his love for Anna..and the retribution she offered when he turned his back..his time as a Horseman, and the ideology he struggled to suppress Few knew the hardship of holding such a malignant energy within them. Warren Worthington was one of them, and look where it got him. Betsy Braddock was another. Her life forever changed. With a sigh, he tapped the ash into an empty cup and shuffled his deck once more. "Someday s'gonna be clear. Someday, s'gonna be right....S'gotta be. Jus' gotta be.."
