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Tweak says, "COME FLY WITH ME"

Remy LeBeau (ace_of_clubs) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-05-31 00:29:00

Entry tags:

!complete, day 09, location: museum, remy lebeau, the doctor (ten)

Who: Remy & The Doctor
What: After his dealings with Logan, he explores - Remy gets around!
When: 0355 - Day 9
Where: Not far from the museum.
Rating: PG-13 for possible language.
Status: Complete

This had been one of the most interesting days of Remy LeBeau's life, and that was saying something, considering the life that the thief had lived for the last twenty-odd years. First, he had been kidnapped and thrown into a forest, he'd had all of his worldly possessions lifted (except his clothes, thankfully). He'd met a girl who thought she was a wolf, then he'd run into Logan, but it wasn't really Logan, and he'd just needed to walk it off and think. He was tired, but he wouldn't be able to sleep in this strange place any time soon. So he'd begun to explore on his own, after leaving Logan's company. There were plenty of buildings, but it didn't seem like their were many people -- maybe that had to do with the time. It was, after all, still rather late (or rather early, depending on how you looked at it). He didn't know what time it was exactly, of course, because he had no watch. Maybe there was one he could lift around here.

It was so easy to fall back into old habits, without the watchful eyes of the X-Men on him, and it had only been a few hours by his guess. It didn't bode well for the small town, with the Cajun thinking thoughts like that already. He was so engulfed in thinking about what he was going to do to get out of here, that he wasn't paying much attention to the scenery around him, so it was easy for him to get close to the suited man without noticing him. When he did, though, Remy came to a stop. The man-- he had hair like a rooster, lookit that! It caused Gambit to smile-- was walking around like he didn't notice anything round him, either. So the Cajun took it upon himself to break the silence separating them. Maybe he could help. Or maybe he was behind this. Either way, Remy was hoping to get some more answers.

"You look ah lil' los', Mon Ami. Wha' you lookin' for?" Any answer would be acceptable, he was just looking for the way that the other man would answer. That would tell him what he wanted to know.

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fromgallifrey
2009-05-31 04:43 pm UTC (link)

Well, at least the stranger agreed with him. Wait, was he still quite a stranger? Perhaps this unwinding conversation of theirs had lead him to more of the level of an acquaintance. That sounded much more useful.

Gambit's accent rolled through what sounded almost like mild accusations. Did he ever make something happen unexpectedly. No, he would say that everything he made happen was relatively expected. Were there things that happened that he didn't mean to happen but did? Sure, that sounded more like life taking it's course, however. Now, about people getting hurt, or dying, that was the occupational hazard of being the Doctor. People died. Once everyone lived. Just once. It had been a glorious moment, that one tiny spec of miracle. Despite mentally responding to the questions, the Doctor just looked on, listening.

Gambit was picking up small bits and pieces here and there, tucking them less than ceremonially into his pocket. He watched like a spectator at a magic show as Gambit toyed with the bolt until it was revealed again, glowing pink to red; it appeared that it could be cooling.

The Doctor set up a little he didn't think that the bolt was hot, the man's gloves showed no sign of scorching and the air was quite absent the tell tale rolls of heat. There was something else at play here. "Really, just clever."

"Is that just warming up, or cooling down?" One never knew what different sorts of matter manipulation did to the qualities of the affected. He might as well ask.

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ace_of_clubs
2009-05-31 04:56 pm UTC (link)

"Jus' warming up." But then it was turning from red to pink again, and back to the steel gray color, and Remy was setting it there on the edge of the table, between he and the Doctor. Only once the bolt was down did he lift his water with that same hand and take a drink, those strangely colored eyes closing for just a moment as he did. It was either a subconscious act of trust, or a blatant act of trust, designed to flaunt his relaxed stature to the Doctor. Either way, it would get his point across. He wasn't scared of the shorter man sitting in the corner, had no reason to fear him.

After a moment, he lowered the bottle and opened his eyes again, letting them find his new companion as his lips turned upwards again. "Tell me wha' you know 'bout our captors, non?" He requested a second time, eyebrows lifting as he did. "We gon' be frien's, eh? I show you mine, you show me yours, but 'dat stree' go two way, Docteur. You ain' doin' much t'make 'dis situation any easier for us. Maybe I can help. Maybe I can'. But I wanna. You jus' gotta let me."

While he said that, Gambit was picking up something a bit bigger -- a small chunk of metal that had been left out in the building process, there, but unneeded. That would work very nicely. And all five fingers were curling around the slightly larger object, as if protectively.

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fromgallifrey
2009-05-31 05:15 pm UTC (link)

"Oh?" The Doctor was curious. He watched the strange display of the bolt and the even more odd motion of placing it upon the table. The Doctor's head canted a little, the curiousity sparking in the back of his mind. Could be energy transference, he thought. Or, it could just be he manages to manipulate properties of matter. The Doctor wasn't quite certain and now was no time to go making assumptions.

The Doctor's attention snapped from the bolt to the voice that seemed to come out of nowhere. "Our captors? Not much to tell, actually. The seem to have an ability to carry people off to experients that don't seem to be meant to be harmful, and write some odd bits in our journals meant to antagonize people even more," The Doctor hoped that would make Gambit feel a bit better about their level of intelligence sharing.

The Doctor watched as Gambit picked up another more substantial bit and started, he presumed, working whatever it was on it, too.

"If you must know I'm a 903 year old Time Lord from Gallifrey. Gallifrey a planet in the constellation of Kasterberus." There was a look, oddly enough that resembled near joking on the Doctor's face. Bluffing or not, well, Gambit would have to decide.

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ace_of_clubs
2009-05-31 05:33 pm UTC (link)

Gambit had set that bolt on the edge so that he could study the Doctor. And just as he'd guessed, the man had been entranced by the bolt once it was set there. He even seemed just a bit startled when Gambit began speaking again. So the Doctor was a curious man.. the thought had those lips curling up again, revealing a flash of white teeth. "'Dat curios'ty ever get you in trouble, Docteur? You look, but you don' touch." That was at least a good thing, and Gambit was leaning forward and using his free hand to flick the bolt at him, so he could catch it and inspect it more closely. It was room temperature, no indication of heating or cooling, though he'd said he'd been warming it up. "It won' bite." Said of the bolt, as he leaned back again and tossed that small piece of metal up, before catching it again. Playing with it, like a cat and a ball of string.

"Wolvie say 'dey do experimen's.. he say people turn up dead. 'Dat don' seem like 'dey don' be harmful." He lifted his eyebrows a little. "Or you jus' tryin' t'keep me from panickin'?" Something that the Doctor would soon realize, would be a very hard thing to make the Cajun do.

"Nine-hun'red an' t'ree? You look good for your age, mon ami. 'Dat woul' make you.. born in eleven-oh-five? Assumin' 'dis is two-t'ousan' eight, non? But you not from here, you from Gallifrey in Kasterberus," He was restating the information, as if to verify that it was all correct, and that he hadn't mixed anything up in his mind. "An' you also a time traveler, so I assume 'dat you prolly from 'de future.." But he was leaning forward again after saying that.

"But you don' look young." As if someone from the future, who was old, would look young -- but Remy was making his point, slowly but surely. "You don' look like a future boy, you got old eyes. An' bein' a Time Lord, pompus title, non?" He interjected that bit, but was smiling and continuing on. "Mean 'dat you not human, non? You use 'de words like it's ano'ter race." He was working it out verbally, instead of just in his mind.. less to impress, and more to judge the 'Time Lords' reaction to the theories he was coming up with.. to see if he could pick out what was right and what was wrong. "So my guess come: you and your people, you like 'de guardians of time. Time goes on forever, but you don' have to live for all time, oui? 'Cause you travel t'rough it. Which mean you prolly from 'de pas'. You come here to save 'dese people, Docteur? Is 'dat wha' you do? Explore an' save? Or you been brough' here same as 'dem, trappe' wit'out warnin'?"

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fromgallifrey
2009-05-31 05:52 pm UTC (link)

The bolt was flicked in his direction and the Time Lord caught it, looking it over carefully. Whatever Gambit had done, it had worn off and the metal was back to being just that. Just another bolt, the Doctor set it back on the table. Whatever assumptions Gambit made about the Doctor and his habits, the Doctor didn't feel the need to refute. "I'm a traveller, you have to be familiar with winding up in a bit of a pinch when you've done it for so long."

The Doctor had to admit that he was more impressed with Gambit's capacity for imagination then he was with the man's previous spectacle. He always enjoyed a good story, and it seemed like Gambit had a knack for weaving them together. So, he listened as the Cajun purred and managed to conjure a theory about the Doctor's origins. It was close, a lot closer than he thought someone who didn't have many clues to work off of might come up with. Perhaps the redhead had read too many comics?

"I was brought here the same as everyone else, Gambit," said rather plainly, actually. The statement had quite the propensity to sound almost defensive. Instead, it was more disarming.

"Now, about those experiments and the bodies..." There had been two bodies now, both presumed to be abductees. "We don't quite who those bodies were. People have just been assuming. People go missing, and sometimes they've turned back up. I'm still waiting on my friend, Martha," he thought he should have said that more quietly. "In any event, food, shelter, medical doctors, and a pharmacy have all been provided. It doesn't sound to me like whomever has put this all together is out to murder us all." He'd had this conversation too many times now for it not to come off sounding a bit rehearsed. He felt sort of bad for that fact, actually.

"What was it you did before you woke up here like the rest of us?" The Doctor, again sounded merely curious. It was a perk of being the Doctor, actually - to have a voice that sounded excitable always.

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ace_of_clubs
2009-05-31 06:02 pm UTC (link)

When the Doctor chose not to make any comments on his theories, Gambit mentally grumbled to himself. Clearly, he'd missed his mark, or he would have gotten some sort of confirmation, right? Surprise. Shock. Delight. Something. Unfortunately, he'd received nothing. He'd have to thing something else up, later. He liked this game.

"You don' know who 'de bodies belong to, but 'dey are still bodies, oui? 'Dey may not be 'de people gone missin', but 'dey are still people? 'Dat still mean people are bein' killed, doesn' it? Seem a little bit concernin' t'me, no matter who 'de vic'tim is." However, he didn't seem to be upset, nor panicked, nor worried. This was all said very matter-of-fact, as if he were reporting the daily weather. "An' sometime, 'de missin' people, 'dey come back? Where 'dey been? Or don' 'dey 'member?" He lifted his eyebrows with the question, but then he leaned back in his chair again when the Doctor asked what it was that he did, before he woke up here.

"If you askin' what I was doin', I was sleepin'. If you askin' what I did, I kill people. Pour l'argent." For money. Black and red eyes locked onto the Doctor as he announced that, keeping a very straight face as he did.

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fromgallifrey
2009-05-31 06:24 pm UTC (link)

The Doctor was sort of happy that Gambit had given up on his latest bout of guessing. It meant that for now, the Doctor could drop his guard a bit more and not have to worry about more questions about where he came from.

"It would bother me more if we knew for certain they were from people here and didn't seem wholey meant to upset people." The Doctor, certainly, was not one unfamiliar with collateral damage. People died, usually ast the hands of some very bad individuals. "The people who go and come back don't tend to know where they've been. One came back with a rather strange tattoo. The others seemed disoriented."

Gambit labelled himself a contract killer. A murderer. And this struck the Doctor as odd. He didn't think the red-eyed man a murderer - he seemed a bit too intelligent, easy going and imaginative for that line of work. Then again, perhaps it made him even better suited for it. Either way the Doctor seemed curious again, he was wondering if the Cajun was trying to call his bluff.

"How does one get into that line of work exactly?"

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