Gambit

They tell the story a little different in every bar on Bourbon Street, but they all begin the same way: a red-eyed boy pulled from the gutters of New Orleans by the Thieves Guild, raised to lift a wallet before he could read, and gifted, or cursed, with the power to turn anything he touches into a bomb waiting to be thrown. Remy LeBeau charges the ordinary with kinetic fire, a playing card, a coin, a single grain of rice, and lets it fly. He fights with a collapsible bo staff, a gambler's nerve, and a smile that has talked him out of more graves than his powers ever dug. He walked away from the Guild and into the X-Men, though he never quite shed the con man's habit of keeping one card up his sleeve. Trust comes hard to a man who trusts nobody, least of all himself, and loyalty harder still. But he loves recklessly, most of all a Southern girl whose bare touch could kill him, and he keeps drawing to that inside straight anyway. Gambit bets everything, every time. He just never lets you see the hand.