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Post by skullofbalerion on Sept 2, 2014 23:41:15 GMT
The more she spoke, the more this girl fitted the bill. Remy couldn't believe his luck; when he'd planned to come back to the Big Easy, he had considered contacting a couple of friends, as he realised the enormity of what he was asking of himself. He thought he'd need help, but he'd decided against letting anyone from his past know he was in town. Remy simply wanted to get in and out as easily and as quickly as possible, no dramas, no silliness. The girl, Raven Darkholme, she seemed to have the plucky confidence required to help him. Plus, she was some definite eye-candy for the whole charade, which to Remy, was always an important thing to consider.
She didn't care about collectin' for herself, Remy mused, almost confused that Raven would be that up for simply helping Remy get what he'd come for. "You sure are friendly, and positively kind, ma cherie." Charming Remy was positively charmed.
She'd seemed genuinely impressed by Remy's ability and was also more than happy to demonstrate her own brilliant mutant ability. As she metamorphosed into one of the three unlucky gents who had just felt the measure of Raven's boots, Remy stood back, eyes red and wide, mouth gawped open enough to not only catch flies, but a couple of aeroplanes as well.
"Wow, chere," Remy nodded, strongly and definitely, clapping his hands as Raven took back to her blonde human form once again. "We are gonna party tonight!" he exclaimed, as Raven winked at her new accomplice.
Out-stretching his hand in a bowing motion, the Cajun mutant elegantly presented the direction of their target. "Right this way, pretty Miss Darkholme." As the pair left sight of the dark, deserted street and headed to the LeBeau residence, Remy took out a pack of cigarettes from his inside pocket and flicked one into his mouth. Offering the packet to Raven, he spoke muffled words through his pursed lips, which were holding onto the unlit cigarette hanging in between them.
"So what's your story, Miss Darkholme. Ah don't rememba' seein' your pretty little face round here before, I would surely recall..."
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Post by skullofbalerion on Sept 2, 2014 14:47:20 GMT
Leaning on the bar, facing outwards to watch the cute little bar-girl deal with the locals, Remy caught the sound of her voice. He recognised that too, the drawl was definitely local, she was definitely a southern girl. But there was something else to her, something strangely familiar. The girl dealt with a drunken local, whose hand was firmly dislodged from her shoulder with a smile that would illuminate a light-less room.
"Oh honey, ya know ah would but someone's gotta keep these drinks comin'," she politely told the man, who stumbled away laughing, trying to perform some kind of two-step dance as he headed back over to his friends by the pool table. She was a popular one, this bar-tender girl. Her hair was long, with a white flash through the middle which stood out and gave her a unique style that seemed to appease the men in the bar no end.
Heading back over to the bar, Remy offered a smile and a tip-of-the-hat to her as she set down an empty tray and swung to the other side. Remy, maintaining his view of her as she moved, turned in unison, his red-eyes focused squarely on his hostess.
"Ya lookin' mighty thirsty there, Sugah. What'll it be?" Remy smirked a little, being called 'sugah' by a pretty little thing like her, it would make most men blush. But Remy had a thing with women, or so he believed.
"Sure, I'll have another whiskey, s'il vous plait," he gestured with his hand, as he spoke. "And whatever you're havin', chere." Looking to his left, the Cajun grabbed hold of the unoccupied bar stool and plonked himself down on it, leaning with his elbows on the wooden bar, staring up at his new friend.
"Looks like you gots a' lotta devotees in dis place, petite. And it's easy ta see why, ah must admit..." Eyes twinkling red, Remy continued, his deep voice just about audible over the music and other sounds of the busy bar.
"I'm lookin' for someone, an old man, a friend," Remy's voice thinned even more quietly. "His name is John, John Greycrow. He's a mutant..." The Cajun stopped, hoping that nobody heard him use the 'M' word. He didn't want to start a ruckus. Not right now anyway. "I heard he was livin' round these parts. It's important that ah speak to him, in fact, it's pretty urgent."
John Greycrow, aka Scalphunter, was a member of Mister Sinister's Marauders, a team that Remy had been a part of for a short while years and years ago. He was searching for Scalphunter to complete some unfinished business from back then. What some might call, dirty business. But he didn't want this innocent bar-girl to know that.
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Music!
Sept 2, 2014 13:42:29 GMT
Post by skullofbalerion on Sept 2, 2014 13:42:29 GMT
Haha maybe I will! I haven't heard his new one, think I'll have to obtain it and report back. It sounds pretty cool though, plus I love The Raconteurs and the Dead Weather were decent too. I'll have to get hold of it if it sounds like Gambit and some drunks wrote it, that sounds like perfection!!!  |
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Post by skullofbalerion on Sept 2, 2014 0:48:43 GMT
I've only just seen your replies ladies, thank you very much! I wish it was Remy's band... Hey maybe that's a good idea... |
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Post by skullofbalerion on Sept 2, 2014 0:43:13 GMT
She sure did have a confident persona, Remy thought. Not only could she walk the walk, she could talk the talk as well. Right up Remy's street. As somewhat of a self-assured individual himself, the red-eyed Cajun was almost entranced by the demonstration his new acquaintance had displayed. Her cock-sure manner was a real rarity, and an unexpected commodity for such a seemingly sweet and innocent young lady. She had a swagger about her, and Remy liked it.
"Well, as you can see, attempting to grope me is a good way to see those particular moves. However, if you have something else in mind..."
A long whistle emanated from the pursed lips of the Cajun mutant, as he stepped closer toward the attractive blonde, who seemed more than a little interested in his decent proposal.
"What did you have in mind for me to help you steal? And more important.. when do we get started?" The lady was certainly interested, in fact she was positively hungered by the promise of the thieving operation that Remy had planned. Now stood right in front of the lady, Remy held out his palm to take her hand, in true gentlemanly style.
"Ah like your curiosity, Miss...?" Remy paused a short couple of seconds for the lady to introduce herself, then continued with answering her question. "Mah name is Remy, Remy LeBeau. I'm stealin' a bo-staff, my bo-staff, from a highly-secured and practically impenetrable mansion on the other side of town. It's a building that ah know ver', ver' well, because ah used to live there mahself." Remy stopped for a moment, and looked left and right for any possible eavesdroppers, before leaning in closer and speaking in a deep, gravelly, hushed voice.
"Listen, it ain't goin'a be easy, in fact it's goin'ta be a real hard exercise. But as ah said, the place is full of expensive shit, jewelry, shoes, clothes, all kinda stuff, that you are more than welcome to take. All's I want from the place is mah staff. Y'understand, chere?"
The Cajun finished off the last bit of his cigarette, maintaining eye-contact with the blonde girl, and charged the stump with a little trinket of kinetic energy, before quickly and elegantly flicking the glowing-pink butt across the other side of the street. As it fell on to the tarmac, the stump exploded with a loud bang, pink energy spouting off in all directions, the street momentarily lighting up lavender in the moonlight.
"And as for your previous enquiry, does that answer your question, chere?" Remy smirked as the street fell dark again, only the flickering, fading light of a nearby street-lamp illuminating the scene. "Ah gots mahself some special tricks, ya' could say, petite. Why, you gonna go tell on me?"
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Post by skullofbalerion on Sept 1, 2014 15:44:08 GMT
Remy had been sitting in the corner of the bar, keeping his red-eyed self to himself. It'd been a rough few days, a chance encounter with his former wife, Bella-Donna, had not done much to lift the Cajun's spirits. He was happy that Bella-Donna was doing well for herself, now being the leader of the Assassin's Guild back in New Orleans, she would be set up for life. The city had been mostly calm and peaceful, with a truce between the Guilds ensuring no more blood would be shed, both of them agreeing that the banishment of le diable blanc was 'just what the city needed' for true peace. Bella-Donna had made that opinion quite clear in their chance meeting, and without sentiment. The meeting had been playing on the Cajun's mind, and he'd decided a few drinks in a run-down Mississippi bar would help raise his spirits.
Taking his mind away from Bella-Donna and New Orleans, Remy glanced around the darkly-lit, smoky bar. In the corner were a bunch of bikers, appropriately dressed in their leathers, the look complete with big beards and mustaches. Remy had seen them come in and give the pretty bar-girl some cheeky banter when ordering their drinks, and head over to the corner where they seemed intent on laughing and sneering as loud as they possibly could. Turning from them, Remy noticed a few other people in the bar; a couple of old-timers playing dominoes, another reading a newspaper. Peering at the front page, Remy had to squint to read the headline. 'MUTANT THREAT STILL OUT THERE' was what the big, black wording on the front of the paper exclaimed. Remy chuckled to himself as he turned his eyes away from the paper, agreeing with what the words had read. 'Mutant threat? I guess some folks would call us that,' Remy thought. 'Ah mean, we can be threatenin', that's for sure.'
Taking another sip of his bourbon, Remy checked inside his pockets for a pack of cigarettes, took one out and lit it up. As he did so, his attention was pulled back across the room to the biker gang, who now were being told well and truly by the young bar-waitress who was the boss. For some reason, Remy thought the girl looked familiar, but the Cajun couldn't quite put his finger on why? He watched as she finished her rant at the biker gang, swallowed down the rest of his glass and headed over to the bar to order another.
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Post by skullofbalerion on Sept 1, 2014 0:43:42 GMT
The last time Remy stepped foot in New Orleans, it was the night he had to flee, banished forever in order to prevent a full-blown turf war between the city's two legendary Guilds; the Assassins and the Thieves. Of course, being banished meant that nobody could know he was there, and the Cajun had taken what he believed to be the necessary precautions, wearing dark clothing and headgear to avoid being recognised, should he happen to bump into the wrong people.
He was in town to pick up something that he felt belonged to him, but had not been allowed to keep when Remy was banished. His bo-staff, which he used when practicing his fighting styles, including kenpo and also savate, as a teen growing up in the LeBeau household. He had particularly excelled when using his staff, and he wanted it back. But it meant breaking in to his old house, where the occupants only happened to be the most highly-regarded of the Guild families, a house known as the best thieves that existed. Stealing from them would not be easy, and if caught, well, lets just say the barbecue flames would be burning high into the night-sky. As he headed down the street towards the place he used to call home, Remy laughed to himself at the enormity of the task ahead. One thing Remy had learned about himself since he'd been away; he loved terrible odds.
Turning a corner a few blocks away, Remy caught sight and just about heard a few wise guys giving a tidy young blonde a bit of a man-handling, grabbing her wrist and looking quite intense, when all of a sudden the girl gave the three stooges the beating of their lives, acrobatically kicking their sorry asses before they fled with their pride hurt more than their bleeding faces. Remy raised an eyebrow and smirked as he approached the blonde, who had carried on in his direction.
"Hey there chere, you reaaaally got de moves. Ah can tell ya', I like dem moves petite. You wanna show me some more of 'em?" the Cajun laughed cheekily, taking out a packet of cigarettes from his inside pocket and flipping one into his mouth. Lighting up, he eyed the girl ahead of him, and wondered if she was any good at stealing stuff. Something made the Cajun think she'd be a perfect thieving partner for the small matter of his bo-staff. Narrowing his eyes, Remy blew out a puff of smoke and spoke with a hushness to his voice.
"You wanna use those..." Remy's red eyes moved south on the pretty blonde, "... those fine, fine moves..." the Cajun flicked his eyes back up to hers, "... by helpin' moi out with somethin' tonight?" The Cajun smoked a little, before elaborating. "I got a little business ta' take care of. It involves stealin'..." Remy took another pull of his cigarette. "It's a well-stashed place, ma petite. Plenty of goodies ta' go round." Remy winked at the girl and hoped to hell that he hadn't over-blown the charm offensive. But only for a second, the over-confidence taking over and oozing inside of him, assuring his youthful ego that he was irresistible to just about any lady.
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Post by skullofbalerion on Aug 27, 2014 11:48:26 GMT
The episode in the car had left Remy a little flustered; he hadn't expected the rush of emotion he had just experienced and had to admit that this ability of Lana's, her unique mutant powers, were something extraordinary. All over the world powers of so many different kinds were popping up here and there, powers of all kinds, mutations that pushed the boundaries of scientific reasoning and logic. Sometimes, they were just downright weird. But Lana's was something the Cajun hadn't expected. Cool, nonetheless.
"Fair enough."
"Alright then," whispered Remy, his Cajun accent allowing the words to flow into the passing wind to make them barely audible.
As the car made it's way down the highway, the morning light began to crawl across the darkness of the distant horizon, spreading out across the plains and creeping ever so slowly towards the speeding yellow hulk of metal. Morning sunshine would be due to follow, and Remy began to feel a little tired from all of the night-time travelling. He yawned a long and wide yawn, as his eyes began to tell him they needed to shut-down for a little while.
"Which brings us back to your powers. You said that sometimes you can't control them when you feel certain ways. I can help with that."
Remy looked at Lana, an interested eyebrow raised above a curious red eye. "You can, huh?" Turning back to the road, Remy opened the car-door window to allow some air to wake him up a little bit. "How would you be able t' do that? I mean, ah don't even understand this 'power' of mine mahself, it might be a li'l dangerous to be messin' inside mah head!" The Cajun laughed, but he was serious inside. He did seem to lose control when he felt anger build up inside him. He wondered if his own mutation was related directly to his emotions in any way? And if they were, perhaps Lana could indeed help him, as she so fervently believed she could.
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Post by skullofbalerion on Aug 18, 2014 15:50:15 GMT
Remy was still in a defensive position; down on his behind, his arms out behind him holding his body up, his body weak from the expulsion of so much of the energy coarsing through Remy's veins. He felt exhausted, as if he had just done an hour's work out. Sweat was beading down his brow, his fingers were occasionally shaking, little mini sparks of pink kinetic energy springing forth from odd areas if his body. His eyes had lost that bright ruby-red glow, now replaced with a dimmer, more crimson tone. Wiping a droplet of sweat from his forehead, Remy watched as Magneto effortlessly inflicted more damage on the assailants, restricting them from being able to breathe, their screams replaced with tight squeaks of air being gasped. Magneto's face was unnervingly calm.
Remy's heart began to beat a little faster, nerves tingling his body, as the master of magnetism made his way toward the young Cajun mutant, reaching out with his hand to offer help to stand.
"A most impressive display, my friend," Magneto spoke with a commanding yet calming voice, confident and sincere, with a hint of the European somewhere in his accent. Taking Magneto's hand, Remy got himself to his feet and brushed down the dust from his knees and his behind, whilst trying to maintain a level of coolness in front of this legend of the mutant world.
"Well, thank you very much, mon ami..." Remy smiled, half blushing, as he offered his response to Magneto's kind appraisal. Remy knew of Magneto; ever since the Cajun had discovered about his own powers, he had been interested in finding out about other mutants living on the Earth. He wanted to find out about them, as by doing so it might help him find out about himself.
"But it seems you have the advantage, for you know my name and I am completely unaware of yours," Remy nodded, realising he hadn't yet introduced himself. "May I suggest we rectify that?"
"Sure, sorry abou' that," Remy slowly raised his nervous hand to offer a handshake to his mighty acquaintance. "The name's Remy LeBeau, but ah've been goin' by the name of Gambit." Remy had picked up the moniker from his impressive displays in poker and other card games. It had been meant as an offensive term originally, but the Cajun had come to like it. "Ah'm very pleased ta make your acquaintance..." As Remy finished his sentence, a wave of exhaustion came over him, his temperature rose dramatically, and Remy felt rather faint.
"Ah'm sorry, ah don't feel too well..." Remy dribbled his words as he felt like he was losing consciousness, his body beginning to fall to the ground. He had no energy left at all, and he felt remarkably weak, his hands trembling as he reached out to the ground to catch himself from falling. And then blackness.
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Post by skullofbalerion on Aug 18, 2014 15:19:58 GMT
"You don't have to talk ta me like i'm three. I know what honestly means."
"Alright, ah'm sorry, it's just, well, it could'a been real dangerous, y'know petite?" His face fell slightly, realising how dangerous he could become, and feeling rather responsible all of a sudden.
"I got no fightin skills! Look at me! I'm half the size of even short men. My skills are getting others to do my bidding. So yeah, I got in over my head with the human. He had one too many drinks, and that makes it a bitch to control. I needed help, and I send out a wave to everyone in the bar. I didn't pick you out. I made you want to protect me."
"Uh huh? You made me want to protect ya, did ya chere?" Remy managed a thinly veiled smile through his still-quivering lips. "I hope you know, Gambit is a hero, okay chere? That means I would'a helped out anyway..." The Cajun wasn't trying to sound like some kind of saviour, or arrogant superhero-in-waiting with unending self-belief. He was merely being honest, something he thought was integral to any relationship. But at least Lana had come clean, even if it had been after a scrape with an angry gang of bikers.
"But to be fair, had I known that you were a mutant, I might 'ave taken my chances with the humans! They get a little rough, throw a punch . . . Mutants blow shite up with a deck of cards and out everyone around them!"
Tilting his head back as he laughed, Remy finished smoking his cigarette and tossed the butt over the edge of the road side. Now leaning on the car door, arms resting on the wound-down window, head poking slightly through the gap where the glass had been, Remy looked at Lana, directly in the eyes, trying not to show any kind of expression at all.
"Look, I could have easily made you my bitch from here to East cost if I wanted. I decided ta trust you. I'm not using my powers on ya now. I was trying ta be honest. If ya gonna be a shite about it then just ditch me at the next town."
"Hey now chere, I never said anythin' about ditchin' or any shit like that..." Remy stood back from the car door, leaving enough room to reach for the handle. "I just want you to be straight with me, and to promise me you won't go using your powers on poor little me without mah say so." Clicking the door handle, he swung open the door to clamber inside. "Is that fair enough?"
Clambering back in the car, Remy hadn't ceased eye contact throughout the conversation. It was as much to do with trying to work Lana out, as it had been trying to maintain a guarded perception. His instincts told Remy that this lady wasn't his enemy; she was witty and good company, and Remy hadn't felt that comfortability with someone for a long time. As for trusting, well, that was something on a completely different scale. If Lana didn't trust him, then fine, he was cool with that. But it was the same the other way around. Trust was a concept that Remy had trouble with.
Starting the car up and switching the head-lamps on to uncover the dark road ahead of them, Remy pulled away slowly, carefully. Oone thing was for certain in his mind;this was going to be an interesting journey. Hell, it already had been, it was sure to get even more intriguing. At the thought of this, Remy smiled, and put his foot down to accelerate the yellow sports car speeding down the highway in the early hours of the morning.
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Post by skullofbalerion on Aug 13, 2014 0:46:54 GMT
"The more the merrier, my friend."
Remy continued to strut over towards the group ahead of him slowly, but confidently. His right hand was ready to reach into his inside coat pocket for his pack of cards in case he had to move quickly. Although his powers had continued to flare up and out of control, recent events had enabled him to calm himself down, so as not to overblow his charging technique.
From the moment Remy had peered over the wall and seen what was unfolding, his red eyes had checked out the whole scene. The master thief was always sizing things up, his knack of being able to converse whilst making plans in his head of all possible outcomes was one picked up from years living on the streets as an orphan. In his career as a thief, this was one ability that was definitely all human.
"I was just explaining to these gentleman of my intolerance for their unjustly attack toward my kin."
As the young Cajun got nearer to the person behind the voice, he thought he recognised his face. He couldn't quite work out where he knew the man from, but Remy was sure he had seen him before. His apparent control of the situation and confident demeanour suggested the possibility of a man of real power. His voice, the accent, Remy searched in his mind who this man could be. He was a mutant, Remy worked that out from his valiant defence of the poor boy caught up in the middle of all this. Looking over at the boy, Remy caught sight of him looking back, a petrified tear in his eye.
"Perhaps you would like to join me in executing a lesson in justice?"
Looking back to his 'kin' in the hat, Remy stopped as he had gotten close enough to all parties for a possible combat situation. As the man with the accent spoke, it began to come into Remy's head just who he was. The Cajun's eyes widened as he realised he was in the company of one of the most dangerous mutants in the world. For this man in front of Remy was none other but...
All of a sudden, the man with the dagger let out a hated scream and charged at Remy. On the back foot, the Cajun flipped himself backwards in a somersault motion, and landed squarely on all fours. Glancing at the man in the hat, for a split second amongst the commotion, Remy caught glimpse of his lips slowly turning into a smile. But Remy didn't have time to think, for the human bully-boy with the dagger had stumbled forwards after Remy had jumped back, but now he was joined by his rather large friend, who had one hell of a scar on his right eye, and another of the men, smaller but meaner looking. The fourth man turned to face the situation too, and made a move forward. Remy saw an opportunity.
"Hey kid, get the hell outta here!" Remy shouted to the teenage mutant cowering behind the fourth man, who turned sharply to grab hold of him. The boy sharply saw the chance to get away and managed to wriggle loose of his kidnappers grasp, just as Remy felt the hard thud of a boot right on his jaw. The force of the kick sent Remy backwards on to the ground, and he shook his head, slightly dazed for a moment.
"Get ready to feel my boot again, you little prick!" spat the man with the blade as he stepped forwards, henchmen in tow, spitting on the ground as they neared their target.
Having landed on his back, Remy quickly reached into his pocket and produced a playing card, just as the three assailants had begun to bare down on him. Remy, in his nervous haste, hurriedly charged the card, but charged it too much too soon, and he had barely enough time to flick it from his fingertips at the oncoming attackers before it blew up in their faces with bright pink explosive energy. The force of the blast hurled all three men backwards and up into the air, head first, and across ten metres of alleyway, before landing in between several garbage cans full to their brims with empty glass beer bottles. The sound as the men hit the cans was immense, glass smashing beneath their weight, bones cracking on the impact, and cries of pain bellowing in the evening air not long after. Remy, still lying back from the overbearing feeling he experienced from losing control of his powers, looked over to the man in the hat, who had not moved during the entire episode.
"Mon ami," the Cajun uttered quietly. "You're Magneto."
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Post by skullofbalerion on Aug 12, 2014 22:33:46 GMT
As Lana spoke, and whilst keeping his eyes on the road ahead, Remy slowly raised one eyebrow with interest, and some curiosity. Perhaps this gentleman could aide Remy in what was becoming a growing need to suppress his powers. Of course, Remy was still reeling from being thrown out of New Orleans, and for being a mutant. Well, not exactly for being a mutant, but by using his mutant power to defend himself, he had killed his new wife's brother merely days after their wedding, leading to his banishment. The episode had left a sour taste in the Cajun's mouth, forming new relationships was going to be a difficult thing to do. But he'd reluctantly admitted to himself after his last incident that he needed help from somewhere.
"Hey, ah'm not tryin' ta impress you, chere. If ah didn't feel like ah can trust ya, then Gambit would not have said a word, no?" Remy didn't namecheck. It was beneath him to do that, and he almost resented their memory, so fresh in his mind was the devastating betrayal by his own adoptive family. He had been made a scapegoat, and the young mutant would take a long time to forgive and forget the events in New Orleans.
"I can help you stay any way I want, love." Remy frowned as Lana spoke, the Cajun turning to face her for a second, before he started to feel a wave of emotions, one after the other. From a depressive state, Remy felt like he had arrived in heaven, a euphoric swell taking over his body, at which point he hit the brakes of the car. Just as he did, an overwhelming sensation of terror came over him like he was about to die. The car came to a screeching halt in the middle of the abandoned highway, and Remy experienced a surge of sheer delight that he couldn't help but let out a long, loud shouting-laugh, before finally feeling almost nothing at all, as if he had just awoken from a crazy dream.
"Okay, now you tell me, chere," turning his body round to face Lana head on, sitting forward and looking a bit shaky to say the least, Remy continued. "What the hell was that, ah mean, ah feel like I've jus' gone through a years worth of life in one day. I need some air..." Stepping out of the car, Remy looked up to the sky and exhaled a lungful into the atmosphere.
"I can do more than anger," Lana spoke through the open window, Remy facing away from the car towards the horizon as he recovered from his emotional trip. Turning as Lana continued, Remy took out yet another cigarette and listened to the Englishwoman as she described her condition.
"You want science? I can control everyone's emotions because I can control the chemicals that make you feel things. Endorphins. Adrenaline. There's like a million others, and I don't know their names. But I can feel everything you're feelin' and I can make ya feel anything I want. I can't however, make you do anything. I control feelings, your actions are yer own."
Remy took a long drag of his cigarette, before turning his back to the car again. Letting out the smoke, he turned back around to speak directly to Lana, his face as straight and serious as it was in any poker game he'd played in.
"So how many times have you used this power on me, chere? Ah'm not sure ah trust you all of a sudden..." Remy took another pull on his cigarette, before exhaling the smoke out quickly to carry on speaking.
"Ah want you ta' be honest me now, chere, y'hear?" The Cajun's face was serious, and his eyes were flaring slightly. "Did you coerce me ta do anythin', anythin' at all, since we met back there in th' bar?"
Remy's trust issues hadn't exactly been helped by his realisation that Lana could have been controlling his emotions all this time. He knew he was okay, nothing had happened to him, he was safe. But he still felt a weird kind of feeling, that he had not been in complete control of himself, and after what had happened to him in the last year the youngster was beginning to feel like he could trust absolutely nobody apart from himself.
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Post by skullofbalerion on Aug 7, 2014 16:50:39 GMT
"Yeah, well I aint no scientist but maybe I can help with that. If I can't then I know a guy who can."
Know a guy who can. This resonated loudly with Remy. Ever since his powers had manifested just a few years ago, Remy had found them tough to control. It had led to him being somewhat hesitant to use the kinetic-charge side of his mutation, after several incidents occurred that ranged from blowing up a kitchen to accidentally toppling a bridge. It seemed that Remy found it tough to judge the intensity of the amount of energy to transfer on to an object. This was where playing cards came into the equation. Remy knew the exact amount of charge to apply to a single playing card and so he developed his very own card trick. An attacker could expect a fully-charged ace of spades to be flung in their face if they went for Remy and usually, it did the trick.
"You know a guy, huh? Some kind'a mutant scientist, ah 'ssume?" Pulling up to a busy intersection, Remy caught sight of the red light which signalled him to stop the car and wait for the chance to go. The lady intrigued Remy. He still wasn't sure exactly what she did, what her abilities were and how they worked. Some kind of emotive control was definitely the case, but as Remy was unaware that he himself had been affected, he couldn't quite work it all out. The fact that he was in his late teens and, although a streetwise person, still relatively inexperienced in life terms, Remy could be forgiven for being a little naive.
"Think of me as a rich man's personal shopper for things not on the market."
'Things not on the market? Does she mean that she's a thief herself?' Remy had been a thief all his life, so to randomly meet a fellow saboteur on his first venture in the big bad world seemed strangely fateful.
"Well, ah mahself happen to be a kind of, how did you put it, personal shopper. You ever heard'a the Thieves Guild?" Remy felt comfortable enough with Lana to name-check the Guild, and he doubted whether she knew anyone from either of the Guild's personally.
"So where is it that we're actually headin' then, petite? You got some friends somewhere that we're gonna hit up?" Remy wondered where it was that the pair were heading. Moving the car forward again, Remy headed it for the highway, a sign showing cities to the east and the distances to them from their current location of Los Angeles.
"If you plan to travel with me, then maybe along the way we can see about figuring the science of your powers."
"Well, that'd be somethin', although ah don't know many doctors who'd wanna mess with mah head. Soon as dey see my lovely blood-red eyes, seems any interest in me wanes, shall we say." It was definitely an immediate aim of the Cajun's to find a way to gain some control of his powers, especially since they seemed to be getting harder to keep under wraps when getting particularly emotional and/or stressed.
"As long as you can help me stay cool, then there shouldn't be any, you know, accidents." Winking at Lana, Remy pulled out another cigarette and turned the car onto the highway, starting out on their long journey eastwards.
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Post by skullofbalerion on Aug 6, 2014 23:06:30 GMT
"Ah do apologise, mon ami. I thought that this was my sports bag. Ah musta' left mine some place else..."
On the ground was a large sports bag, obviously jam-packed due to the bulge right along the zip, where standing above it were two men, seemingly confused about who owned said sports bag. The younger man, also the taller of the two, draped in a long, brown trenchcoat with well-kept dark hair protruding from underneath a black hat, was scratching his head with an expression on his face that screamed confused. The smaller, older gentleman, carrying a tennis racquet and wearing full-on working-out gym gear, complete with sweat bands on both wrists, seemed eager to get out of the mysterious, tall man's face as quickly as possible.
"It's okay, young man, I'll just be on my way now if you'd just..."
"But, y'know," the young man leaned in towards the other man's ear, carefully slipping his arm around the back of his temporary acquaintance's back. "Ah could'a sworn ah placed it jus' over here..?" The smaller man looked up and into the eyes of his detainee, when he noticed how black they were, dark, black eyes with red pupils glowing in the shadow of his dark hat.
"You, you're one of them, aren't you?!" The older gents' own eyes were now wider than the spectacle frames hanging on his nose. "Get away from me, get away! Take the bag, just take it!"
Pulling away from his younger and more athletic associate, the man turned and ran, shouting for help as he went.
"An' ah didn't even get his watch. Damn, ah'm outta practice!" Remy LeBeau shook his head in disappointment, speaking out loud to himself, before picking up the sports bag and darting into the shadows of the nearby gymnasium building. After hurdling a few fences, scaling a couple of walls, and running across several streets, Remy found a nice quiet location so he could check out what was in the bag. Strolling nonchalantly down the alley, the Cajun thief unzipped the bag and began pulling out item after item; first a pair of trousers, followed by a leather shoe, another shirt, a pair of scrunched up socks, another shoe... Behind him, a path of expensive laundry slowly got longer.
"Ah ha, now dis is what ah've been lookin' for..." stopping for a moment, Remy dropped the bag on the floor and unveiled what looked like a small jewelry box. Opening the box, Remy smiled as he took out a pair of large diamond earrings, definitely expensive and well worth a few dollar. Earlier that day, Remy had been scoping out a jewelry store in the city and had heard his target loudly revealing to the attractive young lady jeweler that he could easily afford the $2000 earrings, and bragging about how he 'worked out' every other day at the special VIP members gym Mesa's Gym. The rest had been too easy for the young thief, and now he had his prize, which he placed in a special hidden pocket in his trenchcoat.
Moments later, and Remy heard the sounds of a ruckus coming from a nearby alleyway. Altering his direction, Remy sneaked over to a wall, looking over to find a group of men standing in front of a small, spiky kid, facing off with a rather impressive looking man in a hat and sunglasses. Listening in closer, Remy could just about make out the end of what the man in the hat was saying to the gang, one of which was gripping a pretty big knife in tightly in his hand.
"... For that man you are unjustly attacking, is my brother."
'His brother? They don't look like brothers...' Remy thought to himself as he peered on from his hiding place. Whatever was happening here, it didn't look pretty. And Remy much preferred it when things were pretty. Standing up on the wall to make himself visible, the Cajun's eyes glowing red in the shadows, Remy decided to find out for himself what was going on. 'Ah mean, why not?' he reasoned with himself. He hadn't had a fight for at least twelve hours, and when the Cajun's fingers were itching, he just had to scratch them.
"Well, looks like ah'm missin' the party right here, wouldn't you fellers agree?" Remy jumped down from the top of the wall and into the fray in the alleyway.
"So, what kinda' party is this anyway? Can anyone jus' join in?"
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Music!
Aug 5, 2014 16:22:24 GMT
Post by skullofbalerion on Aug 5, 2014 16:22:24 GMT
Well, as I am a musician and music's one of the main things I do in my life, I wondered what everyone else was into and whether you play anything? Also, I thought we could use this to post any links to songs/bands/artists that we love, both OOC and in character. So without further ado, here's a link to my band's Soundcloud page, hope you enjoy!  Phil (Gambit's player) soundcloud.com/enamelanimal |
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Post by skullofbalerion on Aug 5, 2014 16:16:40 GMT
Jim Carrey. I used to watch all his films on repeat when I was a kid. I always wanted to be Ace Ventura, I loved his hair, his shirts, his facial expressions. He's always been my favourite actor. I used to love Robbie Fowler when I was young too. He was a footy player for Liverpool, and I was always "God" when I played on the park with my mates. Ahhh, to be a kid again... The job you wanted to be when you got older, when you were a kid...? |
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Post by skullofbalerion on Aug 5, 2014 15:30:56 GMT
"Really? You're a mutant? I hadn't noticed."
Remy looked round at the lady and let out a little chuckle. The easy-going Cajun enjoyed the sarcastic tone, it downplaying the situation they had found themselves in with the bikers earlier and allowing the atmosphere to gain a level of normality.
"Do you even know what you can do?" the lady asked him, which made Remy stop and think for a second. He looked straight at the lady. "Or why your eyes are like that? Cause see, I've never met a mutant who could only turn out one trick."
The truth was he was still learning about himself and his abilities, and he didn't know if there was more to his mutation than he had imagined. The thought that there could be something else going on with his body made Remy slightly uncomfortable. In recent weeks he'd felt the kinetic charges in his body getting stronger, and he'd misjudged the pressure of energy he'd applied to a couple of cards a few weeks earlier in a bar brawl back in Texas. He'd also noticed he was gaining in his dexterity and his body felt stronger than it always had. But Remy had just put this down to reaching adulthood. Maybe there was more to it..?
"To be hones' wit' you chere, ah don't know the sciencey-stuff behind what's going on wit' me. Which is actually somethin' ah'd like to find out," Remy felt that he could speak honestly and candidly with the lady, although his recent banishment from his home city had affected his ability to trust.
Remy listened as Lana explained what she had been doing back at the bar... "I was out here for a job, but that went south when the idiot had one too many back at the bar."
"A job, huh? So, what is it exactly that you do? A purdy little thing like you in a smelly little bar like that, seems there's more ta you than meets the eye, petite." The young mutant was streetwise enough to read between the lines with people, having spent most of his life on the streets.
"Now I am going to head back east."
"Oh you are huh? Well, Gambit was headin' west, but for some reason, all of a sudden ah feel like I was headin' the wrong direction. Maybe east is where ah should be headin'..?"
The Cajun couldn't work out why his mind was changed, but all he knew was that he should head east himself. There was a strange pull that he couldn't explain, but he knew he wanted to head to wherever it was that Lana was going.
"Well, ah could tag along wit' you? Ah mean, you could do with the ride right? An' definitely the company?" Remy grinned a wide grin and headed down another side-street that would take the car towards the highway. It was time to head east. He didn't know why, but it just felt right.
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Post by skullofbalerion on Aug 4, 2014 22:40:22 GMT
"Just get us out of here!"
"Okay, I'm goin' petite!" Remy exclaimed, his brow raised and his body beginning to shake. The Cajun had been able to control the depth of his powers since they first announced themselves just a few years previously. Now, as a young yet mature and streetwise eighteen-year old, his powers were starting to accelerate and grow in intensity. And with that intensity came a distinct fear of loss of control for the mutant, fear being such a rare feeling to Remy that it was unnerving (to say the least) for him in stressful situations.
Eventually managing to put the keys in the ignition, the Cajun put the pedal to the metal and skidded away. Noticing his accomplice raising her hands, Remy squinted as he wondered to himself just what this lady was doing, what was her power.
'Must be some kinda' telepathic thing, or somethin' like dat...' he told himself, eyes firmly on the dark road ahead with the lights turned on full beam and dust from the road spitting out from the tyres behind. The lady lowered her arms, and Remy looked in the rear view mirror to check for any followers, before sharply darting left down a side street and speeding along the darkly lit road.
"They're gonna follow, so I hope you drive as fancy as you talk."
"Well chere, as you can clearly see, I am one hell of a driver," the confident Remy was back, which meant his stress levels were lowering.
"Unless you got something besides a card you can throw at em."
Feeling cooler and more in control of the situation, the Cajun laughed as he pulled out a cigarette packet from the inside pocket of his coat.
"Aah guess ah could throw one of these liddle t'ings, but that'd jus' be a waste'a good tabacca." Flicking the cigarette into his mouth and pulling out a lighter, he ushered the packet to his companion.
"You wanna smoke, chere?"
Remy lit his cigarette, took a long hard pull, and breathed the smoke out of his door-window, which was opened ever so slightly at the top.
The lady looked over at the Cajun and spoke with her English accent.
"What do you do anyway? How'd you make the card do that?"
"Well, truth is, an' in case you haven't kinda' guessed already..." Remy stopped mid-sentence and turned to the lady, pointing with the lit cigarette towards his unique red and black eyes.
"I'm a mutant and, well... Basically, ah can make things go bang." Feeling proud of his extraordinary gift, the Cajun sat back in his seat and took another pull of the now half-smoked cigarette.
"And what about you, huh? You got some strange ability ta' make people angry or somethin'?" Remy thought that the lady could be telepath. For him, it seemed like the way the lady had affected his emotive response was some kind of telepathic gift at work.
"So what's yer name anyway, petite. My real name's Remy. Remy LeBeau."
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Post by skullofbalerion on Aug 1, 2014 13:09:56 GMT
"Well, this is just not my night!"
The little lady stepped past Remy, who was quite surprised by the bravery she was displaying. Remy watched as she stood in front of him, and right in front of the bikers in the doorway who had slowly moved inside the bar. There were about four or five of the rather large, leather-clad, scruffy-haired, bearded ogres, and it looked like there were more outside, but the girl didn't seem too bothered. Holding up her hands, she motioned to the gang, whose faces demonstrated some kind of effect had been placed on them. Their face went from angry to petrified in a nano-second, the bikers reversing back out of the door.
"Well, that was... er... priddy strange, non?!" Remy was smiling as he spoke, an impressed look etched on his face. Just as he had finished speaking the lady with the English accent grabbed the Cajun's coat, Remy following her lead and speeding out of the door and outside of bar.
Seeing the gang of bikers, all leathered up like their friends, Remy realised there were one or two too many to take on directly, a brush with these guys would no doubt end badly. Humans or not, ten or twelve hairy bikers was a bit much for the young man from New Orleans to handle in one sitting. Luckily though, his new friend was ahead of the game.
"Help! Please! They're fightin' mutants in the bar!"
The lady was clever, and Remy nodded and smiled wryly as the rest of the gang dumped their bikes and ran shouting and screaming into the bar.
"Pretty good, mon petite. You haven' done this before, by any chance have ya'?!" The lady turned to Remy and spoke with clear urgency.
"Please tell me ya drove here!" she said, peering down at her shoes and then back up to Remy.
"You in luck, Gambit has one hell of a ride waitin' right over..." Remy stopped speaking as he tried to get his bearings, squinting his red and black eyes as he looked up the street to where he had parked the stolen yellow Pontiac.
"Ah ha, there it is," he nodded in the direction of the car, which was just up the street a few yards, now parked behind a lorry. "You are gonna like dis ride, chere. C'mon!"
Taking her hand, Remy hastily headed over to the car, pulled the keys from his coat and unlocked the passenger side first.
"Take a seat," Remy spoke as he opened the door, waiting for the lady to get in before closing the door for her. When it came to ladies, Remy was always a gentleman. Well, maybe not always.
Jumping quickly into the drivers side and slamming the door behind him, Remy noticed that the biker gang were beginning to filter out of the bar, looking up and down the street for the pair.
"Right, looks like we better get goin'. So where to?" Turning the keys in the ignition, Remy started the car. Just at that moment, one of the biker gang began shouting at his comrades, pointing to the yellow GTO.
"Ah know, ah'll just drive!" Remy skidded the car and put his foot on the gas, the car skidding in a circle and pulling away rapidly. Checking the rear-view mirror, he could see the bikers weren't going to give this one up, as they had got on their bikes and were beginning to chase the Pontiac up the street.
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Post by skullofbalerion on Jul 31, 2014 13:27:36 GMT
The drunken man had quickly looked over to Remy, and then back to the little lady who was still struggling to get free of his grip.
"You don't understand, she's in my head!" Remy frowned at the retort, wondering for a moment what exactly was going on here. Was this woman some kind of telepath? Remy hadn't met a telepath face-to-face before, but he knew of their existence. But this lady didn't seem to be using telepathic abilities right now, Remy could work that one out.
"I am NOT in your head, mate, a fact I am rather grateful for in this moment!"
This was a strange situation, and Remy wasn't entirely sure if the lady was in need of help at all. There was definitely a sub-text to this scenario, and it put Remy on the back foot a little bit. The young Cajun had expected a straight-up damsel in distress situation, but that's not exactly what this charade seemed to be.
"Let me go!" the lady shouted, her accent revealing her as from the other side of the pond.
"Yeah, why don' you jus' let go of her arm an' we can all have a drink an' talk abou' dis..." Remy motioned toward the pair as he spoke, but was cut off by the man who was getting more and more exacerbated with every passing second. The tension was beginning to rise, and the barman was looking close to calling the cops.
"No, you're in my head! I think you're one of them--"
All of a sudden, the little lady interrupted the man's sentence with a shapr boot to the knee, and then the toe. Screaming out, the man grabbed hold of his knee as the woman pulled away from him and landed right in Remy's arms.
"Woah, chere, don' worry now, Gambit got you..." Remy spoke softly to the woman as she fell into him. Looking into her eyes, he felt some kind of strange protective urge toward her, even though she was merely a stranger. The care Remy felt for the lady only intensified as she spoke to him, her soft, serene voice, combined with her delicate English accent, almost hypnotic, and taking hold of Remy's emotions with a tight grip.
"You're not going to let him hurt me, are you?" Remy shook his head firmly, and then squinted as he stared out the drunken man.
"I want to leave now. Will you take me out of here?"
Looking back at the lady, Remy began to whisper in response, before the drunk jumped up from his seat and made a loutish grab toward the pair.
"You bitch!"
The man, his eyes now full of furious anger, sweat beading down his forehead, fists tightly held and spit shooting out from his mouth as he screamed. Remy firmly positioned the English lady to his side, as he attempted to protect her from the man.
"Woah there sir, ah don' think you realise what you are gettin' ya'self into here! the Cajun threatened, but the man didn't listen. He lunged at the lady, and Remy was forced to defend her. Taking a playing card from his pocket, Remy quickly flicked it, charging it with pink energy as it moved through his fingers. Tossing the pink-glowing king of hearts at the oncoming lout, the card hit the man in the chest and sent him flying back where he had come from and over the bar, landing in a heap on the other side.
"Ah think you're right, petite. Time ta' go." The whole room was now shouting angry obscenities toward the Cajun and the lady, and a bottle or two was now being thrown in their direction. Grabbing the lady and making sure she was unharmed, Remy made a move toward the door, just at the moment that the door swung open to reveal a gang of biker thugs right in the mutants' way.
"Okay chere, any ideas here?!"
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