6th Card Dealt [Accidental Voice/Action -- Forward-dated to tomorrow morning]

[kineticcajun]

[It's around 9 AM and Gambit's journal is hitting the floor, sprawled open, and recording. There's a yell, a string of Cajun French curses, and a chain of nearly a half dozen minor explosions. And then a scuffling noise.]

--ey! You bes' be droppin' th-- merde!

[Heavy thump of a body hitting the floor. Rustling noise. More extremely colorful cursing in Cajun French.]

Drop it! That's--

[More scuffling. And suddenly, the journal is flying through the air. The view window might catch just the slightest glimpse of hideous, orange shag carpeting (in a violet-tinted world thanks to a kinetic charge) just before the feed cuts out with a boom.]


[Later on in the day, Gambit is out on a mission, and he's looking extremely irritated while doing it. Tossed over one shoulder are the remains of his trusty old leather duster, which has had an entire arm torn off and is missing a significant amount of fabric on the left side. What isn't ripped or torn is burned. Held in something of a death grip by what he can only assume counts as the scruff of the creature's neck is a violently orange fuzzball. It's not struggling. It's not even moving. He's just. Carting it around.

In the rain.

And looking furious.

First order of business is trying to find one Adele LeBlanc, because he recognizes this horrible orangeness from her evil sofa. After that, he's hoping to ditch the damn thing somewhere - it doesn't seem to be holding a charge like the sofa did and that is vaguely terrifying - and then it's time to find a new coat.

He liked that coat, man. The fuzzball is going to pay.]

Comments

[fleurdesel]

[Other than the odd, brief shift at the clinic Adele is more or less under house arrest. As such she's at home, sipping tea and watching the rain with half a mind. Rainy days were good for catching up on sleep, and reading, and that is what she intends to do today.]

[kineticcajun]

[Oh, good, he doesn't have to wander around with a sopping wet tribble too long, then. Gambit knocks on the door, trying to ignore that this is the second time in a month that he's been running around in the pouring rain like a total fool.]

[fleurdesel]

[They weren't expecting any visitors...Adele flips her book closed and unlocks the front door, cracking it open before gaping at Remy.]

...I. Rems? What are you- get inside. [She nods for him to walk in out of the rain, not noticing at all what he's carrying.]

[kineticcajun]

[Remy shakes his head.] 'preciate the offer, doc, but m'not sure gettin' inside would be such a great idea.

[And, by way of explanation, he holds up the damned orange fuzzball. It's still not moving around at all, much to his even greater annoyance. Apparently it needs to hibernate off his coat.]

[fleurdesel]

You'll become ill if you continue wandering around in the rain without your coat Rems-

...


[She blinks, staring at the orange fabric. It was terrifyingly familiar, and at the same time didn't seem to be moving at all.]

Is. Is that what I think it is?

[kineticcajun]

T'ink so. It ate my coat.

[He's honestly not too concerned about getting sick at this point. His immune system has always been great. The bigger concern is this stupid fuzzball.]

[fleurdesel]

Where did...the kitchen. [She reaches out to the arm that isn't holding that. Thing, and gives it a tug.] Nothing for it to eat there.

voice;

[phasingthrough]

[Hey! She knows that voice. She might regret this later, but...]

Everything alright?

voice;

[kineticcajun]

[It takes the better part of the day before there's any answer. It's well into the evening by the time Gambit is back in his apartment, and even then, it isn't until he's walking through the living room to go and make something to eat that he sees the journal has respawned itself on the coffee table. And then he spots the question, and almost feels bad. Almost.]

Oui. Everythin's fine.

voice;

[phasingthrough]

[What was going on? OH! That's right, she called him before. Talk about polite and answering right away. Kitty almost forgot she contacted him in the first place.]

Yeah. Explosions always mean somethings fine.

voice;

[kineticcajun]

[Hey. He would have answered. But, y'know. Exploded journal.]

They ain't outta the ordinary for me, but y'got a point. [He will give her that. Honestly.] Had somethin' attackin' my coat this mornin'. S'fine now.

[If by "fine" we mean "seemingly asleep in a corner, still bloated on leather." He really hates that thing.]

voice;

[phasingthrough]

Do you know what attacked you?

voice;

[kineticcajun]

Oui. Split offa somethin' that ate a friend's sofa a couple months ago.

[He's really saying all of this, isn't he. What is life today.]

It's orange an' fuzzy. Aside from that, I got no idea what it really is.

[rashness]

[If that struggle takes place in his apartment then Rin is still the neighbor. No doubt Shiemi or Skarmy or Yukio might have reacted too,b but he ...! ...Stirred, didn't react to get out of the room or anything, but he did go asleep and will be trying to intercept Gambit to ask him about if he heard something this morning if/when he makes his way back to his apartment]

[kineticcajun]

[It's later in the afternoon when Gambit trudges back to the apartment. He's soaked from head to toe from the rain, except for a new leather coat that, to him, is all too bright and needs breaking in. The old one, still tattered and singed, is tossed over one shoulder.

And he's got a sopping wet orange fuzzball grasped by its "scruff" in his left hand.

Yep. Just your average neighbor-returning-home scene here.]

[rashness]

[He's in the kitchen, but hearing the trudging and wet boot steps in the hall he's going to glance his pretty face in and-] Whoa, what the hell happened to you?

[kineticcajun]

[Gambit heaves a sigh. And considers heaving the orange fluff against a wall or something, but that's already proven useless.]

Long story, mon ami. [Feeling increasingly sarcastic, he decides to elaborate.] Long story short, though... revenge of the furniture eaters.

[rashness]

...Furniture eaters?

[What.]

[kineticcajun]

Don't s'pose you were around for when we threw a sofa off the roof an' blew it up, were you.

[Because that would explain a lot in one go.]

[touchofrogue]

[Right. So Rogue's absolutely not walking towards Gambit's community building just because she heard an explosion and then he failed to answer his journal calls. Nope. Nothing like concern at all. It's just a nice day for a walk.]

[kineticcajun]

[Yes, nothing like torrential downpours for a walk, right? That's the best time to go out for fresh air. Invigorating.

At least, that's pretty much what Gambit himself might be saying at this point, because he's out under the overhang of CH1, still looking something like a drowned swamp rat from wandering around in the rain, trying to get a charge to hold on a cigarette long enough for it to light. The stupid orange fuzzball has been pushing his buttons all morning. Getting away from it for a few minutes is a great idea.

Even though the dampness isn't helping things at all.

Yeeeup.]

[touchofrogue]

[Oh good, he's all right.

Wait, what? Nevermind.

Rogue makes as to keep on walking right past him, under her umbrella. But she can't help but call out-]

Don't ya have an alternative to that?

[Seriously, just charge the tip, that's just sad.]

[kineticcajun]

[It's soggy from the rain, though. And he keeps either overcharging it and needing to pull the charge back or it just fizzles out with a small charge. That and he's not really focusing too well, especially now that he has a distraction.]

Never needed one. [Except, apparently, for today, but let's just ignore that. He grins over at her, all too open to having some kind of company who is not going to want to give a nickname to an orange coat-eater.]

What brings you out here in this weather, chere?

[touchofrogue]

Just passin' through. [So put that in your pipe and smoke it. bwahahaha.

Her eyes narrow.]

A better question is what the heck you're doin' out here without your coat, Cajun?

[kineticcajun]

It went bye-bye.

[Aha! Ha! The charge held! The cigarette is lit! Great success! Don't mind him, slightly distracted with his success to continue with that explanation.]