kineticcajun | 2nd Card Dealt [Action/Voice

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2nd Card Dealt [Action/Voice - Backdated to Yesterday]

[Gambit has been a frequent visitor of the Battle Dome lately. Not that he wasn't shy about visiting it before, but ever since the moon fell, he's been working out the excess irritation through copious amounts of explosions. Early today, he goes through his usual training of increasing difficulty in the Battle Dome, working his way up from a warmup into an all-out survival match worthy of the Danger Room the X-Men had back home. Despite the chains of explosions, he still emerges from it all without a scratch.

After cooling down by just wandering idly around the Battle Dome for a while, it's back out into the snow. And Remy hates snow. For one, bad memories (babysitting Wolverine and Sabertooth both in a snowstorm is not a fun experience); but also, he's just not built for snow. Thank god for this nice warm coat.

After a brief trip into the grocery store, he's heading back to his apartment to make some gumbo. Nevermind all this winter weather noise, it's time for something hot and spicy to warm up with.

Community Building 1, hope you don't mind the delicious gumbo scent wafting around the ground floor.

Eventually, after checking to see if the snow has stopped - and seeing that it hasn't - he'll turn to the journals.]

[ Voice ]

Still snowin', huh.

Is it always this cold this early 'round here? Or is this jus' a sign we're in for a real rough winter?

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Nah, not really. You got me there. [Fuzz is about the only thing in common. But he'll leave it at that and almost absently fish out one last bag of her coffee that he can spot near the very back, handing it out for her to take.]

Here. Last one, far as I can see.

[She blinks and reaches out to take the coffee bag with a certain amount of hesitance. Not, this time, out of worry that he may charge it, but more concerned with why he is being so helpful.

...

...

...]

Thanks.

Any time, chere.

[Hey, that smile over the first bag of coffee is motivation enough. No ulterior motives.

Which would probably raise suspicion in and of itself, so he meets that wariness with a gently joking tone.]

Hard enough gettin' by in this place, let alone tryin' it without any coffee.

An' that's the sorry truth.

[That makes four bags of coffee tucked into one arm, and she tucks a strand of hair behind an ear a little uncertainly, because she feels this strange reluctance to end this conversation and at the same time just wants to get away as quickly as possible. Always with the contradictory feelings and reasons - why can't anything ever just be simple?]

[Because nothing is ever simple as far as they're concerned? Especially given past events. But complicated as it is, Gambit isn't really feeling particularly inclined to walk away just yet either.

Also, it has just now dawned on him that there are four bags of coffee she's carting around. And he's grinning despite himself. Rogue, coffee hoarder. It's really kind of cute.]

Think you're jus' about set, chere?

[She gives him an impish look.] I might hafta get some cream.

[Or not. She usually drinks it black in the mornings, but it is now well into the afternoon and she has been Without and she deserves her cream, darnit, and her chickery. Which will be her next stop, but that's a weakness she'd rather he not know, for some indefinable reason.]

[Funny, she never struck him as the cream-and-sugar type. But still, he'll play along, gesturing back towards the dairy section in a silent ladies first motion.]

You sure you got all this by yourself?

[She does, in fact, start walking towards the dairy aisle. Not so fast, however, as to keep him strictly behind her.

...look, it's not paranoia when someone's already drugged you and kidnapped you.]

Why? Are ya offerin' ta carry my groceries? Never took you for a boy scout. But maybe I could see ya collectin' a bunch of pins...

[...that you stole. From other people.]

[He shrugs, although his smile twitches a little wider at that jab.]

Better late than never, non? [Being a boy scout, he means. And is totally joking. His tone isn't even remotely serious.]

But the carryin' groceries is up to you. Just makin' sure you don't end up droppin' any'a your coffee in the snow.

[She eyes his accumulated groceries with thinly veiled interest. What does Evil eat, she wonders?]

Looks like you've got your own concerns.

[Drop her coffee in the snow. She represses a shiver of horror at the thought.]

[Evil eats gumbo. Although that may or may not be immediately apparent. His groceries are spices, onions, and rice so far, and a package of shrimp. But it's mostly spices. Priorities.

He just gives her an amused look for the grocery-snooping.]

Somehow, I don't think any of this stuff is goin' anywhere. [Except possibly the shrimp.] But I guess you gotta point.

[...'course, she just talked him into letting her do more work. There's a win there somewhere. It's just hard to see it, as she reaches for a half-pint of whole milk.]

Maybe not. Looks like you've got enough spices ta set off a rocket trail. I hope ya weren't plannin' on usin' all that pepper.

[Clearly taunting him about his cooking (or lack thereof? She doesn't know.) is a better to go.)

[Hey. He's an awesome cook. Just ask Jubilee. But still, he can forgive the underestimation. He probably doesn't exactly look like he knows his way around a kitchen.]

'Course not. Not all at once, at least. Gumbo ain't any good if it ain't spicy.

[Also that's kind of the entire reason he went out in this weather in the first place.]

['lest Rogue commit the terrible sin of actually agreeing with him, she mutters something under her breath about how she bets it's to hide the burnt shrimp.

And with the milk in hand, she really has no reason to stick around, except...

...

Yeah.]

Tryin' your hand at comfort food?

[Some strange sense of responsibility and... something makes her want to see if he's handling the repercussions of the last week all right.]

[Comfort food, huh. After the last couple of weeks, probably everyone in Luceti could use a bit of comfort food. Between the masks and the moon, he's been more frazzled than he'd care to admit, but the Battle Dome has already absorbed most of the backlash.

And so he gives a lazy shrug. No need to act like any of it has been bothering him.]

Guess you could say that. Old recipe of my Tante Mattie's. Always was best in cold weather.

[Cold is clearly far worse than being crushed by the moon. It's easier to complain about, at least.]

If you wanna try any, I can save some for you, chere.

[Well, that's about as much of a response as she could figure.]

I don't think so. I wouldn't want ya to ruin my appreciation of gumbo.

[Since you will clearly ruin it.]

Now you're jus' woundin' me.

[Although his feigned look of hurt isn't too convincing. This is a man totally confident in his gumbo-making ability.]

[She snaps her gloved fingers, giving him an impish look.]

And I wasn't even tryin'.

Lucky shot, ma chere.

[Two can play at this impish game, Rogue.]

[No. No impishness from you is allowed. You are to be boring and unappealing, and the use of French endearments is strictly forbidden.

This stymies her response, leaving her uncomfortably drawn to him and so Rogue just shrugs.]

Guess I'd better go 'fore I accidentally leave you bleedin'.

[...there may be more hidden raw truth there than there should be - a sign of her being generally unsettled.]

[Ruin all his fun, Rogue. The French endearments are the best part.

With a grin - obviously the lurking threat isn't concerning him too much - he gives a short, lazy wave and starts to turn away.]

Guess so. Wouldn't wanna ruin the coat in this weather, non?

[Bloodstains all over the leather would kind of suck.]

[There's something really... unsettling about watching him walk away. He's from her world, he's a mutant, he wasn't... all terrible. He shouldn't have to be on his own.

Rogue frowns a bit at his back, forcing down the impulse to do something, say something which would bring him around again. But, really, for all she knows he's already gotten what he wanted from her, and the sort of friendship which cites 'any port in a storm' isn't exactly the kind she should want to encourage...

...besides, if she was strictly honest with herself, she also just wants to be around him, laugh with him, and that... that was far too dangerous. So she'll just watch after him for a moment, then turn, feeling mildly hollow, away. She still has to pick up that chickery, after all. She'll feel better once she's had her coffee.]

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2nd Card Dealt [Action/Voice - Backdated to Yesterday]

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