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

[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.]

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As you will, Rems. [She chuckles and hangs the coat back up before walking to Gambit's side and leaning up to kiss his cheek.]

Take care not to make yourself ill. If you manage it? I will make you beginets.

[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.

[The grin widens into a warm smile.]

I'll let you know either way. But you better start gettin' ready to make those beignets.

If you are ill I will just have to bring over stew and cornbread.

Not happenin'. Won't get sick. Jus' you wait, doc, you'll see.

[Out into the rain he goes. Oliver is still unmoving as the rain starts to soak in again.]

[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.

[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.]

Do you know what attacked you?

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.

Ate a sofa? [Really? REALLY? Are you trying to play a trick on her.]

Ate a sofa. An' then I blew it up, but I guess I missed a spot.

[He wishes this was a joke. Really. But his tone is just utterly flat.]

An' then that spot ate part'a my coat.

[Sorry, she's laughing at you.]

Really?

[That's totally expected. Adele laughed at him too. Sigh.]

Oui. Really. It's still here if you're lookin' for a pet.

No thanks! I'm, like, good with just Kurt.

[He's grinning despite himself at that.]

Didn't know he counted for that.

[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]

[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.]

[CRAP! No making fun of best friend in front of this guy.]

It's because he's my friend. I'm allowed to make fun of him.

Never said you weren't, petite.

[Fact: Gambit has managed to irritate the X-Girls most consistently where Kurt is concerned. And he never even means to.]

[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?

[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.

...Furniture eaters?

[What.]

You're just not allowed to make fun of him.

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.]

Ain't makin' fun of 'im, chaton. Easy now.

Page 4 of 7

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

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