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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[She gives a dismissive snort.]

Right. So ya got me the knock-out gas that wouldn't put a tear in my eye.

[It's an old retort, but it's the first thing that comes to mind.

Probably because of the distinctly unfair flutter that accompanied those words.]

[He may not have flinched over doing it at the time, but the reminder of the knock-out gas makes him shake his head now. Sure, there probably wasn't any other way to get her to come along with him. But then again, maybe it's for the best that he'll never live it down.]

Not somethin' I'm ever gonna repeat.

[...surprisingly effective. Huh.]

Glad ta hear it. I'd hate ta think of you bein' that desperate for a date.

Are you implyin' you might actually t'ink about it if I asked you on one?

[Because clearly that's where you were going with that, right.]

[Snort.]

I'm thinkin' ya might need ta brush up on your definition of a 'date,' Cajun.

[Here's a hint: It usually involves touching people.]

Do I? 'Cause I'm t'inkin'... candlelight dinner, jus' the two of us.

[Rogue, you forget there's more to it than just touching.

Also that is a rock in his path and he just narrowly avoided it.]

[Damn her heart for speeding up, damn him for laying it out and asking her, and damn the Malnosso for making it so she can't just walk away.

She hopes her tone holds no hint of her fluster, but she's a sap for stupid, simple romantic things like that, and it disconcerts her that he'd guess.]

You sure they didn't mess with your head?

[He can hear that fluster to some extent, but he's not going to call her out on it. At least not at this point.]

Very sure. Everythin's in the right place far as I can tell.

'course you would say that.

[What, it's not paranoid if they're really out to get you.

And only a crazy person would want to 'date' her.]

[Ah, but he is a crazy person. At least so everyone is always assuring him.]

'Course I would. I'd be crazier not to.

[Well, fortunately, they're coming up to the end of the river now.]

An' wouldn't that be a sight ta see. We're comin' up the bridge. Start headin' left an' up.

[Diversion: Success?]

[Alas, end of the river. He nods at the warning and starts left and up as instructed.]

Well, you already know 'bout me an' sight-seein' right about now.

[Incline. This is more difficult than it should be. Focusing a little more closely on not tripping over his own feet going up.]

s'fine. I can enjoy the show for the both of us.

[She hangs back, watching him.

Pauses.]

Ya want a hand?

S'okay. I got this.

[Stubborn Cajun, right here. He can totally do this. It's just a slight incline and this should not be so hard. But he's got it. Everything is fine.

And slow-moving.]

[Fine. She'll wait a moment to see how he's getting on.

...yeah, she doesn't like the look of it.

He is going to trip and break his fool neck.]

Scardy-cat.

[Hey. Hey, that's not cool.]

Ain't scared of anythin'. I jus' know I can handle this.

[Yeah, he is never going to ask for the help he probably needs.]

[Yeah, but she's so got this.]

Sure, you can talk a big game. But when it comes right down to it, you're too scared ta take my hand.

[She lets that linger in the air a moment.]

Some 'date.'

[Ha.]

Edited 2012-05-19 00:40 (UTC)

[Now there's some motivation.]

An' when did you decide this was a date?

[But he's hanging back now, waiting for her. Looking a little amused. Holding one hand out for her to take if she's really serious about this.]

[Loftily:] I'm considerin' it a trial run.

[She takes his hand, but instead of holding it - far too much intimacy, it would almost make lights go off behind her eyes, and not in the good way - she places it on her shoulder. Whether or not he lets go is up in the air.]

See if it would even be worth considerin' it.

Edited 2012-05-19 01:00 (UTC)

[He's not letting go. And as much as he's tempted to snark back at her about who's afraid of holding hands now, he's not going to push his luck that far. Shoulder it is. He holds on just tight enough to make sure he's not going to lose her and yet not so tightly that it would be uncomfortable for her.]

So this is my test drive, then. No wonder we're goin' over all the tough terrain.

[Good boy. His reward is the hand placed, somehow both steady and tentative, on the small of his back. Easy, with that touch, to lead someone along with just a few impressions on her fingertips, easy to steady them if they fall. Almost as if she's not entirely unfamiliar in leading a blind person over unfamiliar territory.

And she scoffs.]

If ya can't handle an itty bitty hill, your press is seriously overrated.

[Come on. Up we go.]

Edited 2012-05-19 01:59 (UTC)

[And once again, he's getting that feeling that this isn't her first time literally leading the blind. It's sorely tempting to poke at it and ask, but that's probably better left alone for the time being. Instead, he just follows her lead.]

I thought everyone knew swamp rats weren't mountain climbers.

[Joking. It is what we do in situations such as this.]

[She scoffs again.]

You are in such trouble if ya think this is a mountain.

[With that undercurrent of doubting his reputation and 'rough terrain' again.

As she guides him unerringly towards the bridge with light pressure of gloved fingers.]

[Rogue, you are a lifesaver. He's managing a lot better now, but that doesn't mean he isn't going to snark back at her.]

You tryin' to tell me it ain't?

[Why yes, that is laughter lurking in his tone.]

Definitely too much press.

[Now at the bridge, she drops her hand from his back and goes to step away.]

Good thing I was just considerin' considering.

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