Remy LeBeau (Gambit) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kineticcajun) wrote2013-07-09 08:04 pm
kineticcajun) wrote2013-07-09 08:04 pm
Entry tags:
2nd Deck - 1st Card [Voice/Action]
[There were some things in life that Remy LeBeau found he could never get used to. Completely useless wings being stuck to his shoulders, for example. Maybe they looked kind of nifty, but he rarely got a look at them, and he made damn sure to keep them covered up anyhow, but that was another story. Also, people not eyeballing him with clear suspicion in their eyes. That was another thing he still hadn’t gotten adjusted to properly. He was doubting he ever would.
But mainly, the quiet around this damned place was what got to him. New Orleans was never completely quiet. The Acolyte camp had never been quiet either, what with Pyro and Sabretooth kicking around. Here? Here, he had entirely too much time on his hands and not enough to do with it.
Except for, of course, being a thorn in the collective side of the few he could honestly call friends. That never got old, and the added bonus was that he’d had just enough time away from Luceti to lull them back into a state of not quite expecting a thieving Cajun sneaking around and wreaking havoc at all hours of the day and night. He would thank the Malnosso for that... if he didn’t have so many other things he wanted to punch them for.
In any case, he was well overdue for some kind of announcement that he had stumbled his way back into the fishbowl that was Luceti. Waking up stuck in a tree had been enough to keep him occupied for a short time, but now that he stood here with that oh-so-familiar journal in his hands, he was reminded that he had left several strings loose before. Unfinished business, if you would. And that kind of thing rankled. He wasn’t a man to leave things unfinished, if he could help it.
The major question was if everyone was even still here. He turned the journal over in his hands absently. Trying to remember the filtering system would take too much time, and, if they weren’t here, wouldn’t work anyhow.
If they were still here, though, there was something he could rely on to get his message out quickly and effectively. A slow smile twitched across his lips as he let out a low laugh. And, he wouldn’t even have to throw another sofa off a roof, although that had absolutely been a highlight of his last vacation in the land of Luceti. It was too bad that kind of opportunity didn’t arise more often.
He flicked open the journal, thumbing through the pages thoughtfully for a moment. Squashed down the urge to charge it up and throw it into the sky like some kind of cheap Fourth of July celebration. Poked at the options until he was sure it was set to record. And grinned.]
A'ight, I'm back. What'd I miss?
...An' tell me that tribble t'ing ain't still here.
[Well, that's enough of an announcement, right? Now all that's left is to find his way back into the town. He was pretty sure he remembered the way. In any case, he scooped up a handful of acorns - which may or may not end up as burnt husks - to drop behind him as he went to mark the way. Not that he suspected he'd get lost, but still.
Later on, once he's made it back to town, Remy just barges on in to the various shops like he owns the place. Completely unfazed by half-nakedness. Gotta find a shirt, and some shoes, and cards. Oh, definitely gotta find the cards. He may look a little different than when anyone last saw him - unfortunately, his hair is no longer down to his shoulders, and the dorky goatee is back. Sorry, Luceti.
After the sun goes down, it's time for a stop into Good Spirits. Because dammit if another romp in Luceti doesn't call for a few shots of whiskey.]
But mainly, the quiet around this damned place was what got to him. New Orleans was never completely quiet. The Acolyte camp had never been quiet either, what with Pyro and Sabretooth kicking around. Here? Here, he had entirely too much time on his hands and not enough to do with it.
Except for, of course, being a thorn in the collective side of the few he could honestly call friends. That never got old, and the added bonus was that he’d had just enough time away from Luceti to lull them back into a state of not quite expecting a thieving Cajun sneaking around and wreaking havoc at all hours of the day and night. He would thank the Malnosso for that... if he didn’t have so many other things he wanted to punch them for.
In any case, he was well overdue for some kind of announcement that he had stumbled his way back into the fishbowl that was Luceti. Waking up stuck in a tree had been enough to keep him occupied for a short time, but now that he stood here with that oh-so-familiar journal in his hands, he was reminded that he had left several strings loose before. Unfinished business, if you would. And that kind of thing rankled. He wasn’t a man to leave things unfinished, if he could help it.
The major question was if everyone was even still here. He turned the journal over in his hands absently. Trying to remember the filtering system would take too much time, and, if they weren’t here, wouldn’t work anyhow.
If they were still here, though, there was something he could rely on to get his message out quickly and effectively. A slow smile twitched across his lips as he let out a low laugh. And, he wouldn’t even have to throw another sofa off a roof, although that had absolutely been a highlight of his last vacation in the land of Luceti. It was too bad that kind of opportunity didn’t arise more often.
He flicked open the journal, thumbing through the pages thoughtfully for a moment. Squashed down the urge to charge it up and throw it into the sky like some kind of cheap Fourth of July celebration. Poked at the options until he was sure it was set to record. And grinned.]
A'ight, I'm back. What'd I miss?
...An' tell me that tribble t'ing ain't still here.
[Well, that's enough of an announcement, right? Now all that's left is to find his way back into the town. He was pretty sure he remembered the way. In any case, he scooped up a handful of acorns - which may or may not end up as burnt husks - to drop behind him as he went to mark the way. Not that he suspected he'd get lost, but still.
Later on, once he's made it back to town, Remy just barges on in to the various shops like he owns the place. Completely unfazed by half-nakedness. Gotta find a shirt, and some shoes, and cards. Oh, definitely gotta find the cards. He may look a little different than when anyone last saw him - unfortunately, his hair is no longer down to his shoulders, and the dorky goatee is back. Sorry, Luceti.
After the sun goes down, it's time for a stop into Good Spirits. Because dammit if another romp in Luceti doesn't call for a few shots of whiskey.]