He wasn't sure how he'd gotten roped into this, but if he was honest, Remy hated it. He didn't mind kids, but going after some vigilante youngster was far from how he'd rather be spending his Friday night. "Gonna have to get dinner delivered tonight," He whines under his breath to himself, annoyed he's missing the Friday night fish fry Scott insists on doing. It wasn't good, but it reminded Remy of home. Louisiana had a lot of fish.

The mission was simple enough. Investigate reports of some school kid who's been beating up anti-mutant *ssh*les, and try to get them to the mansion before they hurt themselves, or others. Remy sighed, running a hand through his hair as he walked the empty, dark halls of the abandoned factory.

"Come on out, petit héros. I'm not gonna hurt you," He calls out, trying to not sound as mocking as he feels, his Cajun accent echoing in the graffitied room. A sudden clank from behind him makes his head snap in that direction. Immediately he sees them. The poor thing is a mess, clearly living out here. Remy can't help but want to get them out of here, his paternal side whirring to life.