kineticcajun | 7th Card Dealt [Action/Voice]

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7th Card Dealt [Action/Voice]

[Just as the afternoon is winding down today, Gambit is waking up. In the middle of the woods. With the damned journal right next to him. Only as far as he can tell, it's the middle of the night, which is weird, because he can't hear any crickets or anything. But it's pitch dark out, in any case.

Which is also weird, because he should be able to see just fine in the dark, but that's another matter entirely.

He spends a while feeling around in the dark, trying to figure out a sense of direction (moss grows on the north side of trees, right?) before he ultimately figures, screw it, the enclosure is only so big, walking far enough in one direction will eventually lead him somewhere. The sooner he can find his way back to his apartment, the better. Everything hurts, up to and including his pride, but being stuck with nothing but a bunch of lunatic scientists for a couple weeks did little for his comfort levels in this place.

A couple hours and several bumps into trees later, he admits defeat. Whatever direction he's walking in (south...?), he's not getting anywhere except into more tree trunks. He's lost. And the fact that he can't see a damned thing is creeping up into a growing sense of panic. But now isn't the time to freak out. He can ride through this. He's been through worse.

But just this once, he's going to have to eat his big LeBeau Sense of Pride. Out comes the journal.]

[Voice]

Alright, alright. Y'all didn't move the village in the las' couple weeks, did you? Don't seem like it's where I left it.

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[She snorts. And puts on her best Jedi imitation voice.]

"These aren't the driods you're lookin' for."

[Low chuckle.]

See? I even get the best Jedi quotes outta you. Might not be able to convince Obi-Wan to jus' say it on his own.

Yeah, yeah. Just get movin', furball.

[She doesn't, however, waiting to see how he'll do.]

Since you asked so nicely...

[Walking now. This bo, it is his strategy. It's slow going, but at least now he can feel the way ahead without thunking into any tree trunks. Tadaa!]

[She keeps a step or two behind him so that he can have a clear path to sweep his bo, and... just in case.]

Very considerate of you.

[He's honestly making his way along fairly well, if very slowly. Although his banter abilities are dropping a bit as he tries to focus on finding his way.]

Southern chivalry, chere. Or somethin' like that.

Rock to your left.

[Sorry, was there banter? Just don't die right now, please.]

Thanks.

[Rock avoided! Although he's overcorrecting his path for it. Oops.]

Wait a sec - get your bearings.

[She doesn't touch him to correct him. She waits to see if he can figure it out.]

[That's enough of a reminder to get himself straightened back out. He readjusts for the overcorrection, using the rock as a reference point. Straightened out. At least he's pretty sure he is.]

Didn't jus' turn myself in one big circle, did I?

[Maybe a little.]

Little bit more ta the left.

[Pause - and then some encouragement.]

You're doin' good.

[Yup. Write this day down.]

[Correcting a little more to the left. This is definitely a day to mark on a calendar sometime. Once he can actually read a calendar again.]

Not jus' sayin' that so I trip an' make a fool outta myself, are you?

[Entirely teasing. Although teasing the best help he's going to find is probably not the best idea.]

I'm fair certain ya don't need my help ta make a fool of yourself.

[Her tone is lightly amused, and she maintains her pace of about two steps behind him to his right. It should be anchoring for him, at least.]

Why should today be different than any other day?

You gotta point. That's a personal talent, current situation aside.

[Her staying at a constant distance is definitely helping a lot. Now that he's oriented correctly again, he's just listening carefully to make sure she's still about the same distance away. Keeping on the path a little better now.]

[Dramatic sigh.]

It's always nice ta meet a man modest about his talents.

[She's sure she will. Someday.]

[Grin. Rogue, associating with super-types, the modest guys will be so very rare.]

Can't go inflatin' my head too much more, right?

Much as it might be nice ta see if you'll float away, I clearly wasn't talkin' 'bout you.

Musta been Stark, then. We all know he's Mr. Modest.

[Rock. In his path. He found it and is avoiding it accordingly. It is a good day.]

[Attaboy, Swamp Rat!]

Shockin'ly, I do know more than two guys in this town. I coulda been talkin' 'bout someone else entirely.

[This is perfectly feigned surprise.]

There's people here more modest than Stark?

[Pff.]

I'm fairly sure the case could be made that whole universes are composed of such individuals.

[But there is a wry affection to her tone.]

[It's a small wonder she can put up with them so well. Between Tony and himself, Gambit is amazed she hasn't hauled off on one of them yet.]

Prob'ly. Wouldn't surprise me too much.

[What is with the increasing amount of rocks. His banter is starting to trail off a bit as he tries to focus a little more on the path.]

[She walks along silently, watching closely as he starts feeling his way through rougher terrain.]

[Yeah, this is the moment of truth and he knows it. But stubborn as he is, he's doing his best to convince her that he doesn't need to go see a doctor, so he's really being careful to keep steady footing as he navigates through the rocky path.

Thank whoever Up There who's keeping an eye on him that his usual good sense of balance hasn't been tampered with.

All told, he's doing fairly well... although he's starting to list off to the right a bit.]

[The right is where the river lays, and Rogue just watches, still two steps behind, to see what he'll do. She's fairly certain that he'll be able to haul himself out even if he falls in - or she'll haul him out if he can't. It's more important to see if he can figure this out.]

How ya holdin' up there?

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