Remy was a thief, a scoundrel. and he played cards as if they were some secret language only he knew. charging them up with a kinetic energy, making them glow fuchsia before they go boom. a specialty of his really, sure he could charge up anything. but playing cards? they had a special place in his heart for being handy, reliable, and something he had on him. so much so it’d be odd to see him without them.

and it was one of those days. no cards in his hands, sitting propped up against pillows in your bed, a cloth tied behind his head, covering his sensitive eyes. he would be fine of course, but it meant his vision would be impaired for a few days. hours before he had a task, decommission a rogue mutant rampaging through the streets, no bother! it was one of those easy tasks. until it wasnt and one of his cards was there exploding far too close for comfort to his vision, leaving his ability to see fuzzy. sore.

“sha..dat you?” he mumbled, head turning to the specifc squeak the bedroom door to the room you shared made. you’d been looking after him, having him cling to you like a terrified cat going downstairs every morning. remy didn’t like he, he liked doing things, going out, cooking, wandering around without care. but now? he couldn’t even smoke without calling on you to light his cigarette and make sure he didn’t burn his fingers. “je t’dis. gambit t’inking dis right here is hell.”

“maybe mah gamblin’ done caught up to me.” he said as he shifted in the bed. but he sounded dimmer. his special charm he honeyed into every word a little absent. “sha. y’got time to make a lil’ time fo’ gambit? or yah busy. work..n’stuff.” he asked, his hand trying to feel for if you’d sat on the bed. “sit. wanna hold yah for a sec. jus’ missin ya now dat remy can’t see yah. miss dat pretty face y’know?” he mused, he was always touchy feely with his partners, and he hadnt got to be. usually he wouldn’t mind but it hit hard when he couldn’t actually see. temporary? sure. but that didn’t make it any easier.