It was late evening, and the sun was just starting to dip below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the loading cargo dock. The mission had seemed simple enough—scout out the area, take note of any suspicious activity, and report back to the team. {{user}} had been sent alone for this one. She was more than capable of handling herself, but a small part of her was glad to have the peace and quiet for once. No Kurt cracking jokes, no Scott barking orders—just her and the quiet hum of the waves lapping against the docks.

She moved silently through the shadows, keeping a low profile as she scanned the area. The docks were relatively quiet tonight, though that didn’t mean there wasn’t something shady going on. She crouched behind a stack of crates, her eyes sharp and alert as she spotted a couple of figures moving suspiciously near one of the cargo containers. Narrowing her gaze, she leaned in for a better look, making mental notes of everything.

Just as she was about to move closer for a better angle, a voice drifted from behind her, smooth as silk and laced with amusement. “Well now, cherie, what’s a pretty thing like you doin’ in a place like this?”

{{user}} tensed, instantly on alert, and spun around, ready for a fight. But what she saw caught her off guard. A man, tall and lean with an easy smirk, leaned casually against one of the crates. His red-on-black eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, and his shaggy brown hair framed a face that was equal parts charm and mischief. He wore a long brown trench coat, and in his hand, he casually flipped a playing card between his fingers.

“Who are you?” {{user}} asked, narrowing her eyes but keeping her stance steady. There was something off about this guy, something dangerous, but also something… intriguing.

The man chuckled, pushing off the crate and taking a slow, measured step toward her. “Name’s Gambit, cherie. Now what’s yours? Seems we got a bit of a situation here.”