Remy LeBeau (52cardpickup) wrote in the_next_step, @ 2009-04-27 19:07:00 |
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Entry tags: | amelia bartholomew/flora, logan/wolverine, remy lebeau/gambit |
Outside the Institute, Afternoon; Open
There was something relaxing about the shuffling of cards, the way that they felt sliding through his fingers and the soft fluttering sounds they made. He had been using them since he was much younger, a child on the streets finding ways to keep himself entertained on the cold nights, and later when he discovered his mutant ability, as a weapon.
Remy LeBeau always had at least three packs hidden on his person. Trench coats were good for that. He huddled further into his, making sure that it was done up as he turned another corner. The duffle bag sitting over his right shoulder was old and worn, its dark tan colour somewhat faded with age.
It wasn't like he couldn't afford to buy a new one, more that he didn't want to. This was the bag he had done a lot of travelling with. He was attached to it.
His fingertips tingled as he played with the cards, slipping them into his pockets as his feet stilled and he took a breath, trying to find his center - or whatever rubbish that was - to pull the power back into himself.
He knew the Institute was just around the corner and he blew out a breath, tucking errant strands of auburn hair behind his ear as he picked up his feet and began moving again, concentrating hard on keeping those tingles at bay, that power inside himself.
Once the building came into view with the impressive gate at the front with an intercom and a buzzer, he strolled closer, inspecting the keypad and then looking beyond into the grounds themselves. It looked like it was an easy enough place to get into, the wall wasn't too hard to scale, especially for someone like himself. He supposed it would be bad form to stroll up to the front door, though.
And since he was rather sure he needed help, he decided on the boring, normal way of getting in contact with people and he pushed the button on the intercom.
"This place kinda looks like de Hilton," he said to himself, peering through the gates again whilst he waited for an answer, one hand curling around one of the metal bars, his concentration slipping enough that his fingers started to glow.