kineticcajun | 10th Card Dealt [Action]

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10th Card Dealt [Action]

[Gambit is back from his mission... finally. And he's definitely looking worse for the wear. With one Severely Black Eye, it's probably at least fairly clear that he did something to irritate the Malnosso while he was gone, although the rest of the effects aren't immediately obvious. Until he opens his mouth, of course. And then he's painfully, stereotypically British.

Which is precisely why he's trying not to run his mouth like he usually does.

There are, however, a few points of importance. He may have slipped off with fairly little notice to the mission, but he does mean to let the people who really matter know that he's back. Which is all of four people, but he's still making the effort.

First it's a trip to the Item Shop. He's outside of his usual Not Until After 3 policy, but he's finding it hard to care. After that, it's off to the Battle Dome clinic... which is oddly bereft of Adele, so he decides he'll track down Obi-Wan (wherever he might be) instead, since that should be just as efficient. He does leave a Joker card on Adele's desk, though, before slipping back out. It's just as good a signal that he's alive and well as seeing her, he's sure. And last but not least, Lupin.

And then it's back home to collapse in bed and sleep. Or at least that was the plan until the fierce craving for tea finally overwhelms him and he ends up at Seventh Heaven instead.

Thanks, Malnosso.]

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[That is indeed Marilyn Manson he's walking in to. And while the choice of music does make a slight smile tug at one corner of his mouth, he's sure that it's going to make it a lot harder to get out of here without making it too obvious that he can't shake this British accent. Because a quick glance around the shop has made it obvious that she's probably in the back.

It's also entirely too tempting to sneak up on her, but he knows full well he'd end up with another black eye to match the one on the right, so he keeps it simple. And also short, because accent.

Don't mind him turning down the music ever-so-slightly and calling to the back room.]

Miss me?

[The voice was vaguely familiar, but the accent was not. So her first question was not "When did he get back" it was:

Who the hell is messin' with my music?

Rogue moved to see who was in her main room.]

Who'm I supposed ta be-- Remy?

[Hearing "Remy" instead of "Gambit" was oddly welcome. Especially after being gone on the mission for so long. And even longer of being sure it would be years before he got back to the first name. But that was probably not the thing to focus on here.

Not that it stopped him.

Flashing his best charming smile to try to distract from the fact that his accent was very much not Cajun, he leaned against the counter.]

That's my name.

[He sounded ridiculous in his own ears.]

[It was most certainly 'Remy' after Marcus, after Loki, she was relieved to see the devil she knew. It might go back to Gambit after a few more exchanges, but right now that charming smile was a welcome sight, and not only because it was attractive.

Of course, when he opened his mouth - not to mention the rather impressive shiner -]

You sure? 'cause it sounds like ya might have taken a hit to the head.

[Well, so much for skating past without the accent being too much of a focus. He gave a low chuckle, though, fairly unfazed. There may have been fairly high odds of never living this all down, but that was quickly becoming less and less important.

No problem focusing, not at all.]

That much, I'm afraid, is true. But I can assure you that I still recognize my own name.

[Besides, the black eye was hardly anything he couldn't handle. An ice pack later would be just the thing.]

[Oh good Lord.

A corner of her mouth twitched up.]

Really? An' just what is that, exactly?

[A teasing note snuck into his tone.] Don't tell me you've forgotten "Remy LeBeau" just like that.

[Beat. After just the slightest moment, he frowned.]

...Though I'll grant you that it doesn't sound quite the same from me. [Why could he not get his tongue to work in French? This was hardly a fitting punishment. But hey, he could still salvage this. The small frown evaporated back into another charming smile.] I'm fairly certain it sounded much better when you said it.

[Shamelessness, thy name is Gambit.]

[Oh. My. Gawd.

Shameless he might be and flattering he certainly was but none of that mattered because oh my Gawd.

Rogue. Started. Laughing.

She probably shouldn't.

But she did.

And she couldn't stop.]

[Okay, so she was laughing at him and his outrageous British accent. That was definitely expected, if he was going to be honest. But that really didn't matter because her smile. Yes, it was at his expense, but it had been entirely too long since he had seen her smile, let alone laugh like this.

He could definitely man up and take being the butt of the Malnosso's joke. Just this once.

And so he let her laugh, his smile shifting from charming to just plain, gentle amusement. Until it didn't seem like she would be stopping any time soon, at which point a teasing prod seemed about due.]

I should remind you that you do need to breathe again at some point, my dear.

[That did cut her laugh off short. Not because of what he said, or out of any concern for her air, but because with his British accent and his 'my dear,' he reminded her of Loki, and that was not an association she wanted right now.]

Good Lord, Gumbo. I'm gonna hafta start callin' you Tea an' Biscuits.

[To be fair, chere did not seem to want to work. He'd meant to say it, but it didn't go quite right.

In spite of an amused look sparkling in his un-blackened eye, he heaved an all-suffering sigh before adopting a wistful tone.]

See, I don't think that "Tea and Biscuits" has quite the same ring to it that "Remy" did. But I don't suppose that I have a say in the matter, do I?

Beggars can't be choosers. [She agreed, propping one hand on her hip, her posture shifting slightly to form an S curve.] You've gotta do more than disappear for a few weeks an' come back with a black eye ta earn exclusive name rights.

[Which was more of an indication than she'd ever given him that he could. Really, once her senses returned, she'd regret this initial enthusiasm. But right now, Rogue is actually glad to see him.]

[Rogue, bringing out those curves is not going to help with the shameless flirting. At all. Except in the sense of amplifying it.

For now, though, he just silently admires the posture.]

I suppose you're right. Jolly good thing that wasn't what I came here for, then.

[Hey, it's her body and he'll stand how she wants to, stand how she wants to...

Also - snort - jolly good thing.]

Yeah? [A small grin.] Ya need help findin' something? Want me ta draw you a map?

Edited 2012-10-11 00:52 (UTC)

[Hey, he isn't complaining. Far from it. She can go right on standing how she wants to.

Also, he gives her a perfectly innocent smile.]

No, I do believe I've already found her. But I do appreciate the offer for the map.

[And before he can freak her out too badly with that, he decides to go on. With a teasing note, of course.] I meant to let you know I had returned, but I suppose I can accept merely providing entertainment instead.

[It was part of their arrangement, whatever strange bits of their arrangement was still left tattered between them. That they'd let the other one know if they went on a mission; let them know if they returned.

And he had been gone for a long time. Sure, they weren't exactly on speaking terms when he'd left, but... she was glad to see him.]

What else can you expect ta provide?

[He's honestly glad she hasn't kicked him out yet. He's missed this. British accent and black eye aside, this is a considerable improvement.]

Company? Conversation?

[Okay, he can't resist teasing, it's just too easy.] Perhaps just a nice view?

[She doesn't miss a beat.]

With that shiner? I've seen better views of bad road.

[And without any sign of taking any offense, Remy just turns his head so that his black eye is facing away from her.]

Is this better?

Maybe if I squint.

[His pout would probably be a lot more effective were he not suffering from a majorly black eye and a severe British accent.]

That bad, is it?

[She smirked a little.]

Ya make a lousy Brit.

[Take that as you will.]

[He will take that as a compliment, good ma'am.]

Good. I would hate for this to be permanent. [Seriousness... going out the window.] All of my seasonings would go to waste if I had to make nothing but Yorkshire puddings the rest of my life.

I think I'm disturbed that ya know what 'Yorkshire puddin'' is.

It was either that or fish and chips. Bugger if I know any other recipes from jolly old England.

[And he knows full well he could make an awesome fish and chips. But that's beyond the point.]

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