Remy tested the binds in an almost bored fashion, noting that they were not only well tied, but that the rope and fishing line was likely going to be a bastard to pull out of. He stayed there and smiled warmly at Joker, looking over the man's face, but then focused on his eyes, and his eyes alone.
"Actually, Rat'er not t'ink t'at Gambit values his family more t'an ot'ers. Jus' figure t'at t'ey all deserve to be left 'lone, s'all." He drawled, his expression going coolly to one of interest. "You dun seem too far off from jus' needin' company, anyhow. Figure someone who likes to talk might do you some good, 'stead of an old, quiet bat, neh? Figure you got a lot on t'at mind of yours, oui? Probably good fo' you to get it off yo' chest. How you likin' t'is world, homme? You findin' everyt'in' alright? No trouble wit' t'law so far, gunna guess you was t'one who phoned y'self in to police"
He slowly raised a brow, tilting his head to one side, "How's t'ol Joker doin' in t'world?"
If there was one thing Remy had ever actually learned about Joker was that he absolutely loved to talk. In fact, that was the one thing that he was upset Batman rarely did. Monosyllabic answers to questions, three syllable statements and demands. How droll.