Appointments

[kineticcajun]

For all the odds and ends! Don't feel like making a post? Need to send Gambit a message? Go ahead and tag in here!

Please, just let me know the date and format when posting. (Ex: "Voice / Apr. 3")

Tag away!

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[Voice] Feb. 4th

[fleurdesel]

[She didn't know why it felt important to call Gambit, but. She had a note in her small pocket journal, next to the name of the girl that vanished and an odd tally from a drinking contest she couldn't remember. It was a reminder 'ask Gambit about lessons'. So her she was, calling him.]

Remy- I was wondering. You are highly skilled in the art of projectile weaponry...would you be willing to teach me?

[Voice] Feb. 4th

[kineticcajun]

[It takes Gambit a while before he answers. He just got the summons for the mission - leaving tomorrow, no less - and has been trying to gather up everything he'll need. Which isn't much, admittedly, but he had to violate Rogue's "No Item Shop Until After 3 PM" rule in the name of several packs of cards and some gum to boot. He only gets the message when stopping back in his apartment to get his armor.

He definitely sounds distracted once he answers, but he's still there.]

'Course I would. An' you're jus' in luck, I even got some extra cards on hand righ' now. [Yeah, that was a note of exasperation in his tone. Whoops.]

[Voice] Feb. 4th

[fleurdesel]

If you are preoccupied we can do it another time Gambit. It isn't a pressing matter. [Even though it was, in a way. She didn't know why it felt so urgent she learn enough to protect her housemates, especially when they didn't need her protection at all, but...it was simply how she felt. Anything she could learn would help.]

[Voice] Feb. 4th

[kineticcajun]

Non, non. S'nothin'. I got plenty'a time, chere.

[Mission be damned, he'll make time. He's got a feeling that there's some level of importance, otherwise she wouldn't be asking. Besides, throwing lessons still count as practice. Overconfidence is a go.]

'Sides, I was jus' on my way out to the Battle Dome. Might as well meetya somewhere an' make a lesson outta it, neh?

[Voice] Feb. 4th

[fleurdesel]

Would it be more efficient to...[This was Gambit. Remy. A friend. She didn't need this distance with him. After a moment she sighs.] Would it be better to simply use one of the areas inside the Dome? Or is there somewhere else you had in mind?

[Voice] April 16th

[fleurdesel]

Rems?

I'm going to be out of the village for the next few days.

[Voice] April 16th

[kineticcajun]

[Well, that'll catch his attention. There's a slight pause before he answers.]

They get you for a mission, or did somethin' else come up?

[Voice] April 16th

[fleurdesel]

A mission. I shouldn't be gone long.

[Voice] April 16th

[kineticcajun]

What d'they got you on this time?

[Voice] April 16th

[fleurdesel]

Cargo run. I should be back before the week is out.

[ written, private April 16th ]

[touchofrogue]

Going on a mission, back in a week.

[There, duty done.]

[ written, private April 16th ]

[kineticcajun]

[Okay, the short message serves him right, but he doesn't want to drop it just at that. Enjoy his chickenscratch handwriting, Rogue.]

Good luck, chere. [Because "be careful" is something he knows she won't do if it comes down to it, but he also knows she can fight her way through just about anything.

This second part is more or less a joke, but it'll ease his mind to get it out there anyway.]

Do me a favor and make sure Adele don't kill herself trying to keep her eye on everyone?

[ written, private April 16th ]

[touchofrogue]

[She raises an eyebrow at this, not only because it's an attempt to draw the conversation out and she doesn't want to talk to him, but because she wasn't aware he and the blonde had become close to the point of him wanting to look out for her. Figures.]

Not the mothering type.

[Which translated means that she's not about to stop anyone from doing anything, as long as it doesn't interfere with her own personal space, but it's not as though she'd let anyone get hurt on her watch either. Which he should know.]

[ written, private April 16th ]

[kineticcajun]

[He knows. Which is why he meant it as a joke more or less. Despite himself, he gives a small grin.]

Right, right.

Just give the wingnuts a good kicking, then.

[ written, private April 16th ]

[touchofrogue]

[And really, since he's on the list of people she doesn't want to deal with right now, as is everyone who spoke with Marion Stark, she's just going to leave this at that.]

[ action, July 30th ]

[touchofrogue]

[continued from here

It was, it was infuriating. But that wasn't hard. Everything about him was infuriating right now. So she just turned and tried the door again. Anything was better than just the silence - if she stayed in there much longer, she'd have ended up throwing the coats at him.

Unfortunately, this time when she opens the door she stumbles backwards (possibly into him, if he catches her?) and bright daylight streams in. The ocean is hundreds of feet below them.]

[ action, July 30th ]

[kineticcajun]

[While Remy does catch her more or less out of reflex, he doesn't immediately let go once he spots that drop down into the ocean. Heights aren't a problem. And he knows Rogue has an excellent sense of balance most of the time. But that doesn't mean he doesn't trust the Hell Closet not to try to tip her out the doorway, either.

Although once he's sure that this won't be the case, he does let go. But there's an awkward moment in there in which he's pretty sure he's just digging his own grave even more.

In spite of that, though, he manages to brush past the surprise at the ocean being so far below and grumbles in a flat tone.]

Gettin' worse wit' time, ain't it.

[ action, July 30th ]

[touchofrogue]

[And then they're touching. And she can feel the heat of him through their clothes. His grip is firm, and she doesn't struggle, because her heart is caught in her throat and it's beating a thousand miles a minute, and it's not just because she's staring at long, long drop.

When he lets her go, she curses her body and how it wants to lean in to him, towards his touch. And she doesn't dare look back at him, because the scab's ripped off and she's angry, she's so, so angry that he dared show her something like happiness, something like acceptance, and for it all to be a lie.]

The damn thing swings open outwards.

[Which means the two of them are going to have to figure out a way to grab hold of it and close it unless they want a gaping hole on the "floor" of their closet.]

[ action, July 30th ]

[kineticcajun]

[Gaping hole is definitely not a good idea. Gambit eyes the open door thoughtfully, noting with no small amount of irritation that the wind keeps pushing it a little closer and then obnoxiously far out of reach. He has good balance, yes, but he's not all that confident he can balance on the very edge of the closet with one foot while stretching out for the doorknob.

But they can't just leave it open. Aside from the freaky view, he has an itching suspicion that they'll just stay hanging over the ocean forever if they don't shut the door.

As the breeze pushes the door as far open as it'll go again, he glances over at her. She might not go for this, but hey...]

I can prob'ly get it closed, but I'll need a hand.

[Literally. A steadying hand so he doesn't overbalance right off the edge and into the ocean.]

[ action, July 30th ]

[touchofrogue]

[Logically speaking, she's lighter than he is. So she should be the one out there risking getting dropped.

You know, if she trusted him not to let her fall.

Which she was no longer one hundred percent sure she did. Who knows? Maybe he'd find it hilarious. Maybe he'd think she'd lose her powers as part of her death penalty and be ready to hook up.

She slanted him a long, cool look.]

You sure 'bout this?

[You're sure you want to trust me not to let you fall?]

August 19th, early evening

[fleurdesel]

[She'd meant to keep an eye on Oliver while Remy was away. Truly. She'd meant to keep herself calm while sitting around the empty and too quiet apartment. And if it had taken a few shots of gin and a halfhearted nap to manage it, well.

It didn't change the fact that she couldn't save most of his wardrobe.

Especially the coat.

Mostly the coat.

Oliver was a bloated, lethargic mess next to her on the sofa. Too much leather. And not but a scrap of a cuff left to show that Gambit had ever had a leather duster to begin with.




Rems was going to be pissed.]

August 19th, early evening

[kineticcajun]

[There's something horribly draining about having his mutation messed with, and that's really the only thing Remy can focus on as he trudges his way back to his apartment. There's always a minor disorientation when leaving, say, the tunnels, but after it's been in effect for a few days? Even if he's adjusting to having full powers moved back down to Luceti level? Nothing seems right. Stuff either starts sparking or he can't seem to balance as well until things level out again. Royal pain in the neck.

It's probably a good thing he's more focused on the readjusting mutation, because otherwise he might be focusing too much on the fact that he's making his way through the village in nothing but hot pink, slightly billowy pants and a pair of what he has dubbed elf shoes. Thankfully, they do not have bells on. He's not entirely sure where he put his normal clothes down on the mission, but wherever it was, it was a dumb place to put them down.

Grumbling under his breath as the doorknob sets off sparks beneath his fingertips, he pushes into the apartment. The tribble's bloated state is overlooked in favor of the other occupant of the sofa. An exhausted, but still cheerful smile twitches onto his face.]

Since when do I get a welcomin' committee?

August 19th, early evening

[fleurdesel]

[She's reclining, Oliver fluffed up and overplump under her crossed ankles, her head pillowed on the arm of the sofa. She tilts her head back, blinking at Rems upside down.

...

what the hell was he wearing?]

Since you walk home dressed as a clown, Chou-chou. And since Oliver needed minding.

[And since she's had infrequent flashes of being somewhere else entirely- though she'd managed to avoid it well enough to this point. Of course when Rems walks in and is staring at her does one flare up, her eyes glaze over and everything smells like fire and ash, it's too hot and he's screaming-

Adele blinks again, and she's returned to herself mentally. Back on the sofa with Oliver literally underfoot.]

August 19th, early evening

[kineticcajun]

[That. Something just happened there. He thinks. The blink seemed a bit odd, but he decides to let it slide just this once and see what's going on instead. Kicking off the elf shoes into the corner, he pads into the living room.]

Coulda sworn I put that t'ing under his box 'fore I left. [Unceremoniously, he flops down into his arm chair, and locks Adele with a mischievous grin that is perfect cover for keeping a close eye on her.] An' don't go knockin' the acrobat duds. Ain't jus' any guy who can pull off hot pink pants.

[ written, January 12th ]

[touchofrogue]

[And in accordance with their agreement...]

I'm back.