Remy LeBeau (Gambit) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kineticcajun) wrote2012-05-06 12:18 am
kineticcajun) wrote2012-05-06 12:18 am
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.
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.
[Action]
I'm already passed considerin' considerin', remember? That ship has sailed.
[Action]
Might come back someday, though, non?
[Ever the optimist, here.]
[Action]
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Never took you for the patient type.
[Action]
I can be patient when I gotta be.
[Action]
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[He cannot be discouraged.]
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Ah, but slim-to-none chances are my specialty, chere.
[Action]
...you're that set on it?
[...that. was not what she wanted to say.]
[Action]
'Course I am.
[Enough that he'll wait if he has to, which is saying something.]
[Action]
But she bites her lip. Her tone noticeably cools:]
That bored, huh?
[Action]
Bored's got nothin' to do wit' it, Rogue.
[Action]
You're good. [Her tone turns wry.] But I ain't a fool. Just keep walkin', Swamp Rat. We're nearly there.
[Action]
I know you ain't. [She's less of a fool than he is any day of the week, that's for sure. And maybe he really is an idiot, because he knows he's not going to give up just like this... although maybe laying off for a little while would be best.]
Where're you leadin' me, anyhow?
[Action]
[See? She's not a crazy stalker like you.
Congratulations, by the way. Apparently she's not taking you to the clinic.]
[Action]
Merci. 'preciate that there ain't gonna be any doctors waitin' to ambush me.
[And, offhandedly:] S'Room 5, by the way.
[Action]
[The path begins to divide, so she provides some direction.]
Little to the right now.
[Action]
[It's a good thing she's directing him, too, because he might otherwise have just kept walking straight. Off to the right he goes, by just a little bit.]
[Action]
Little bit more ta the right. We're splittin' off from the road.
[Action]
That better?
[Action]
But she doesn't make a single frustrated sound.
She just moves, quickly and quietly, down the path he needs to follow.]
Come on over here, Cajun.
[Her voice is all wry invitation. Try to hear it only in context, I dare you.]
[Action]
Well, since you asked so nice...
[Look who's on the right path now! Major accomplishment.]
[Action]
[She said dryly and waited for him to catch up.]
Just keep goin' straight.
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