kineticcajun | 11th Card Dealt [Action/Voice]

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11th Card Dealt [Action/Voice]

[It's warm. The first thing he's aware of is that it's warm, and it's humid, and he seems to be in warm water. All senses except touch take a while longer to kick in, but for a moment that seems to stretch into forever, it's just warm and floaty and comforting.

And then the soft light starts to filter through and, as he opens hazy eyes, it's all Gambit can do to wonder if he's somehow made his way into Heaven. That can't possibly be right, but he remembers pain and the world going dark and, now, this. It's light here, and warm, and there's someone not too far away with her back turned, revealing a set of wings. Black wings, but what the hell does he know about if angels all have white wings or not?

There's some nagging sensation at the back of his head that he's forgetting something. Something very important. But whatever it is, this slow waking process is keeping it elusive.

His vision starts to clear. The angel seems to be mostly undressed, which is something of a surprise, but not one he'll argue with. Whatever he did to get into Heaven, it's living up to its name, he figures.

And then the angel turns.

And then Remy is very sure that this is not Heaven.]

[Accidental Voice]

[Hope you don't mind a girl - Sabriel, to be exact - shrieking over the journals, Luceti. And it's followed by the sound of a Cajun floundering in a tubful of water.]

Merde-- W-wait! Wait! I'm sorr-- [Splash.]

[Action/Voice]

[It isn't until later on in the afternoon, as the sun is setting, that Gambit finally starts making his way through town to try to a) pick up a few things that he is sorely needing, especially a deck of cards and some food, and b) check in with the people who may have been slightly upset that he didn't turn up for Christmas. Once he can figure out how to safely transport the odd gifts he has stashed back in his apartment, he'll try to sneak those out as well, meaning to just smuggle gifts into places where they'll be seen, even if he isn't himself.

At least, that's the plan, but he may be seen trying to carry a small gift through the village, only to start cursing under his breath in colorful Cajun French when the gift starts to glow dangerously.

This is going to get old really fast and he knows it.

Later on into the evening, just to cover any bases he may have missed, he decides to just leave a simple voice message on the journal:]

Back jus' in time for New Year's. Don't s'pose y'all already had the fireworks show wit'out me?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I still have your Christmas present, my friend."

[Obi-Wan, you are entirely too good a person. And it almost makes him feel bad. So Remy will just joke along here.]

Not coal, is it? 'Cause I still ain't gotten rid of all the coal from las' year.

[Also he really doesn't want to know how bad the damage would be if he accidentally lit up a lump of coal.]

"Don't be ridiculous. What would you do with coal? You've no need of it for a power supply, nor a fuel for burning, since we've both electricity and wood."

Nobody explained that part of the holiday, I take it. [He can't help a low laugh. After everything else today, that answer is something of a breath of fresh air.] You get coal in your stockin' if you ain't on Santa's good list. Or if you jus' got some acquaintances wit' twisted senses of humor.