|chargecard (chargecard) wrote in no_good_deed,|
@ 2010-12-20 17:40:00
|Entry tags:||complete, old pc: gambit, rogue|
Who: Remy and Rogue
What: Talking and hopefully not being attacked by crazy people again.
When: Forward dated to the afternoon of 12/24.
Where: St. Louis Cemetery No. 1, the Garden District, New Orleans
Rating: PG (?)
Leaning against the tall white pillar at the entrance to the cemetery, Remy took a long drag of his cigarette. It was a somewhat morbid place to meet someone, but he figured two things. One – it was a tourist attraction, so the odds of suddenly being attacked again by some crazed mutant were slim, and two – If hedid get attacked, at least they wouldn’t have to move his body very far. Checking the time on his phone, he glanced up the street. He was early, but that didn’t stop him from looking for her. It had been nearly two weeks since they’d met, and he had almost completely dismissed the encounter. She had his number, but as the days went on, it seemed less and less likely that she would ever call. He didn’t really expect her to, either. People had a tendency to not always follow up once they saw him using peanuts to knock people off of bar stools.
He considered himself lucky that she did take up his offer to talk about what had happened, even though he was still a little bit wary, given the whole sudden appearance of a mysterious woman who wanted to grill him immediately on his powers part of the evening. Anna herself seemed like good people. In fact, the other woman didn’t exactly strike him as anything close to evil either, but he was still paranoid. He flicked the butt of the cigarette to the sidewalk and ground it out with his foot, then looked up as a man in a carriage pulled up to wait for someone to come out of the cemetery and decide that they were in a romantic buggy ride type of mood.
“Fine animal you got there,” he commented, nodding toward the man’s horse. The man smiled in response as he dismounted and grabbed the feed bag. The carriage was all decked out for the holidays with tinsel and great big gaudy red bows, and Remy smiled at the man one more time before turning to head into the cemetery. He stopped just inside the gate at the plaque, where a group of tourists were attempting to take a picture with it, and offered to take it for them so they could all be in frame. After assuring them jokingly that he wasn’t going to steal their camera, he stepped back to take the picture then handed the camera back and moved in to read the inscription on the plaque.