kineticcajun: (Sneeeaky sneaky~ [c])
[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.]
kineticcajun: (Wanna take dis out back?)
[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.
kineticcajun: (Chillin' like a villain. [c])
[Today - or at least he assumes today - is Remy's birthday. It might not really be his actual birthday, and maybe that's why he's never approached it with too much excitement, but it's the day decided on by those who raised him. Somewhere, somebody probably knows the real date, but it's nothing he's ever really bothered himself too much over.

That said, he's not exactly celebrating his 22nd year of causing trouble everywhere. The day starts like just about any other, with a jog around town. Then a shower, then tossing together a fairly simple lunch.

From there, his usual trip to the Battle Dome for some "playtime" is delayed a bit by a trip to the clothes shop to get something other than the pair of shorts and tie-dye t-shirt that survived the latest sofa tribble attack. Once that's done, he'll head over to the Battle Dome for a bit.

Later on in the evening, he's having a cook-out, dammit. Burgers and steaks, with a slight Cajun twist on the spices. It is for his own dinner, but he's not a total jerkface - he knows cooking outside is bound to draw someone in this place, so there's extra, albeit not much. After that, it's a trip to Good Spirits for some bourbon and a chance to relax and wind down the night.

All in all, not too bad a birthday. It's possibly even better because he's made it a point not to tell anyone that it is... although the news might have leaked out to a few people.

Feel free to run into him at any point!]
kineticcajun: (....)
[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.
kineticcajun: (Get outta dere!)
[It's around 9 AM and Gambit's journal is hitting the floor, sprawled open, and recording. There's a yell, a string of Cajun French curses, and a chain of nearly a half dozen minor explosions. And then a scuffling noise.]

--ey! You bes' be droppin' th-- merde!

[Heavy thump of a body hitting the floor. Rustling noise. More extremely colorful cursing in Cajun French.]

Drop it! That's--

[More scuffling. And suddenly, the journal is flying through the air. The view window might catch just the slightest glimpse of hideous, orange shag carpeting (in a violet-tinted world thanks to a kinetic charge) just before the feed cuts out with a boom.]

[Action] )
kineticcajun: (....)
[Gambit is back from his mission today, and, much as he hates to admit it, he's exhausted. It's not often that he gets worn out, but this mission definitely managed it. But still, tired as he is, he's got a few things to attend to before he heads back to his apartment. He just means to knock them out as quickly as he can so that he can knock out as quickly as he can.

And so, early afternoon finds him slipping into the Item Shop, careful not to make a sound on the way in, so he can leave a card - a joker, to be specific - on the counter as a sign that he's gotten back safely. His way back out isn't quite as quiet as he'd been hoping, though, and just before the door shuts, the bell goes off. Merde. So much for that.

Once that's done, it's off to the grocery store. Food. Food is definitely needed before he sleeps. Too hungry not to eat.

After nearly ten minutes of staring blankly at spices - he suspects he may have fallen asleep on his feet - Gambit shakes his head and decides to just grab a can of soup and some instant cornbread. Nevermind cooking. Easy stuff. Quick.

He hates cooking this kind of stuff, but pride be damned, he's too tired.

Eventually, he finds his way through the town and back to CH1 to make aforementioned soup and lurch his way into his apartment to sleep, but it's very slow going. Feel free to run into him anywhere on his journey~]
kineticcajun: (Wanna take dis out back?)
Anybody up for givin' a homme a hand haulin' a sofa up some stairs? Gotta get dis t'ing up to the roof of Community Buildin' 1, and it's a heavy li'l sucker.

'preciate any help, mes amis.

[Later on, once he's gotten Adele's abomination of a sofa dragged up to the roof, it's showtime. Or, well. Will be showtime after dark. Best effect at that point, after all. You can't go doing something crazy and stupid without doing it to the full effect. At least not when your name is Remy LeBeau.

The sofa will eventually be charged up to high heaven, shoved off the ledge, and blow up for everyone's viewing pleasure.

This is what it is to be a good neighbor and you know it.]
kineticcajun: (Place your bets ladies an' gentlemen!)
[Finally. Finally the damn lights are out of his window. Gambit's never minded a little festivity, but when your eyes are sensitive to bright light, it gets a little hard to sleep when you can't. Take down. The Christmas lights.

So he's in a pretty good mood today. Snow aside, of course. He could do without that. But he's still venturing out in it - totally not slipping from time to time, you guys are imagining that - to swing by the grocery store.

Important business here. New Year's is coming up, and that means black-eyed peas. With the bad luck streak he's had going since he got here, he's going to need to make a ton of them for luck.

Which is making an idea dawn...]


[Voice]

What kinda New Year's celebrations y'all got 'round here? Seems like wit' all the dif'rent traditions poolin' in, there oughta be some kinda party. Gotta be one night outta the year this place gets good an' noisy.

[Filtered to Jubilee | 80% locked]

Hey, petite. I'm t'inkin' we could use some fireworks next weekend. Sound like a plan?
kineticcajun: (Default)
[Gambit has been a frequent visitor of the Battle Dome lately. Not that he wasn't shy about visiting it before, but ever since the moon fell, he's been working out the excess irritation through copious amounts of explosions. Early today, he goes through his usual training of increasing difficulty in the Battle Dome, working his way up from a warmup into an all-out survival match worthy of the Danger Room the X-Men had back home. Despite the chains of explosions, he still emerges from it all without a scratch.

After cooling down by just wandering idly around the Battle Dome for a while, it's back out into the snow. And Remy hates snow. For one, bad memories (babysitting Wolverine and Sabertooth both in a snowstorm is not a fun experience); but also, he's just not built for snow. Thank god for this nice warm coat.

After a brief trip into the grocery store, he's heading back to his apartment to make some gumbo. Nevermind all this winter weather noise, it's time for something hot and spicy to warm up with.

Community Building 1, hope you don't mind the delicious gumbo scent wafting around the ground floor.

Eventually, after checking to see if the snow has stopped - and seeing that it hasn't - he'll turn to the journals.]


[ Voice ]

Still snowin', huh.

Is it always this cold this early 'round here? Or is this jus' a sign we're in for a real rough winter?
kineticcajun: (....)
[Luceti, today, there is a very large, sturdy cardboard box lying in the plaza. It’s not walking around, just sitting there, with one foot poking out at a somewhat awkward angle from one corner. It was dumped, at some point in the night, on the front step of the Item Shop, and there it remains. Its occupant has only just now woken up, and he’s not too thrilled. From time to time, the box rustles, and occasionally there are muffled curses in Cajun French.

It’s a tight fit in this here box when you’re too tall to really fit in it.

Eventually, once he’s managed to untangle himself from the knot the Malnosso have practically twisted him into and gotten out of this box, Gambit will be making the rounds through the shops in the plazas. Dressed in just his New Feather pants. He is bent on at least finding his coat. The half-naked part doesn’t bother him in the slightest, but he likes that coat. From there, it’s time to get a feel for the neighborhood. If he’s gonna be stuck here, he’s gonna know his way around.

Feel free to run into Gambit at any point in his adventure~]

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Remy LeBeau (Gambit)

August 2020

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