high and a winner got a hot hand

[Another wave of New Feathers, some of them familiar faces, has filled Gambit with an overabundance of restless energy... moreso than usual, even. And so, bright and early, he's out at the Battle Dome to blow off steam. It's also a good way to work through any number of restless thoughts he's been stewing over lately. At least, in Gambit Terms, it's a good way of getting thinking done.

After fighting off waves of zombies, knocking a building down on Sabretooth, and blowing up Malnosso droid lookalikes, he's settling down a bit into a basketball game.

"A little bit" because every few successful baskets, he charges the ball and blows up the basket.

Gotta keep things interesting, after all.

And of all things to get him thinking, this is it...]

[Voice]

Y'know, I been here a year already an' it's 'bout time I asked about this.

We got people wit' all kindsa powers 'round here, right? Shootin' fireballs an' summonin' wind outta nowhere? There's gotta be someone in this place who can drop a slab of cement down for a basketball court, neh? Grass an' dirt roads don't work as good for that kinda t'ing.

Anybody who can magic up a good flat surface, lemme know. An' anyone up for a game once it's thrown down? Lemme know that, too. Game ain't as much fun solo.

[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.