Y’ /sho’/ y’ don’ want bullets?
This felt like his dreams. This was not his reality. There was already a Remy LeBeau in this reality, but he wasn’t doing so well and that was why the second one was now buying a massive amount of ice cream and chocolate bars of every flavour for his other-self’s pregnant girlfriend. The city was very much the same, so it took only about five solid minutes to get from the grocery store to the Institute on his bike, if that is in fact where everyone is because if we’re just going to keep poking holes in the fourth wall, the puppeteer can’t ever remember shit with three simultaneous universes and three characters.
Locating Neena was the easy part. Maybe it was some sort of strange DNA honing beacon, but the younger Gambit located her, walking up and presenting two spoons. “Hé, Nee. Got y’r ice cream.” If they couldn’t drink together - pregnancy, Why!? - they could do the next best thing and eat far too much sugar and dairy than any five human children should ever consume in their lifetimes. Stress relief is great.
