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Vas Captio Mods ([info]vas_captio_mod) wrote in [info]vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-06-08 15:57:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:!complete, day 10, ellen ripley, ianto jones, jack harkness, jenny schecter, location: museum, open, remy lebeau, sam winchester, sarah jane smith, shannon rutherford

Day 10: Museum - 1:15pm
Who: OTA
What: Seven point five
When: 1:15pm - 5:00pm
Where: the Museum
Rating: TBA
Status: Active



The sun was shining high in the sky and a gentle breeze stroked the leaves of the trees, making them, along with the severed stub of rope on the clock face from the day previous sway lazily. It was quiet. Perhaps it was too quiet, for the lack of birds chirping or insects buzzing.

All in all, the day was one of the most pleasant as of yet for the bulk of the involuntary residents of Vas Captio, save, of course, the heat. Maybe it was a bit too hot to be entirely comfortable.

It started small, as most things do. A few of the sculptures rattled against the glass displays encasing them and the loose windows in some of the rooms jittered anxiously in their frames. The floor seemed to wiggle gently but then, all was quiet and immobile again.

As if to protest the stillness of the museum, a great angry shudder rumbled through the foundation. Some of the wooden floorboards seemed to shoot upward as they snapped in half or into pieces, jutting up from the floor. The whole building dropped down as its weak foundation crumbled beneath it, creating the sensation of a very short elevator drop. Glass shattered loudly, throwing about shards sharp as knives and raining them down into the floors or walls as if tossed by a knife-thrower. The doors of the multiple rooms flew open, some ripping off their hinges entirely and others being slammed angrily shut again when large display cases made of wood and metal were thrown against them.

The sound of shattering glass echoed through the place as displays were destroyed completely sending still more shards of what remained everywhere, creating somewhat of a death trap, especially in the main lobby where the bulk of the displays remained. That sound was skewed until it was nearly drowned out completely as the roar of metal supports trying to hold and failing came to fruition and the entire building's worth of ceiling space collapsed in. Some of the doorways managed to hold up - those in which the doors were jammed in place by felled display cases - while others caved in under the weight of the falling debris and the loss of structure when the museum dropped from its foundation to the ground a few feet below. Almost as quickly as everything began, the movement dropped away.

Vas Captio was still, again, and silent once more.



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1530 - Shannon & Remy
[info]ballerinadreams
2009-06-10 03:49 am UTC (link)
Shannon blinked. Dean and Luna were a thing now? She should've known. Too perfect for Dean to resist. It was only a matter of time before karma bit her on the ass and Sam was the next in line for Luna's attention. God, Shannon hated her... Although when Gambit made the gesture, Shannon laughed genuinely for a second before wincing in pain when her muscles and the wound in her side protested. "Yeah, really. Crazy or else just an airhead," she replied. Huh, and just like that, Gambit had won over a little piece of Shannon's heart. Not that she'd admit it to him or anyone else, but there it was.

"Ohhh," Shannon cooed. "Where the hell were you when I was stuck under a support beam?" she joked. When he slipped into a back and forth of English and French, she noted the slight change in his accent and struggled to keep up, her mental translator being thrown off every time he would move from one language to the other mid-sentence. She did, however, catch most of it after a short pause to process all of the familiar words.

"Tragedy, yes," she agreed, laughing. "I wouldn't want to be the reason the world stops spinning; it's bad enough that apparently I'm the reason for all this destruction." It felt morbid and wrong to be joking about the earthquake when there were probably people more worse-off than she and Gambit had ended up. She thought of what Jean had said in the journal about the church; she thought of Sam's friend with the fucked up leg and her smile fell away as she looked back up at Gambit, ready to move onto the next subject. Truthfully, it made her a little sick to think of how insensitive she was sounding.

"Oh," she said sheepishly, wrinkling her nose in embarrassment. "Just, uh...your eyes..." she said carefully, having the grace to look ashamed for having been caught so blatantly taken aback by the look of them.

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1530 - Shannon & Remy
[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-10 03:57 am UTC (link)
The Cajun laughed again when she asked where he'd been when she'd been under that support beam and he shrugged up his shoulders in an 'I don't know' gesture, but his left eye squinted in a tell-tale sign of pain when that shoulder lifted, so he relaxed it again and went on as if nothing had happened at all. "You are." He agreed, about her being the reason for all the destruction. But he picked up on her sudden change of attitude, as if she felt guilty for something. It was very rare that Gambit felt anything near guilt so he didn't quite understand why she'd act as if she felt that way.. but he was, at least, willing to drop the joking. For now.

"My eyes? Oui. 'Dey unique, non? 'Dey get me all 'de ladies." Now that was a lie, of course. Shannon had reacted the way most women reacted. His eyes scared off most ladies, but he'd never worn glasses. Never tried to hide it. He wasn't ashamed of them and he never would be, they were a part of him. And most women came to appreciate them, over time. "Don' worry, Chere, 'de ladies, 'dey gasp when 'dey meet me, an' 'dey gasp when we get to know one ano'ter." Yeah. He meant that in a sexual way. When he took off his pants, the ladies gasped -- or so he was claiming. Arrogant red-head. "Jus' a natural react'n."

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1530 - Shannon & Remy
[info]ballerinadreams
2009-06-10 04:07 am UTC (link)
Now that sounded like Jack to her and she blushed again in spite of herself, letting out a huff of laughter that made her side and back ache all over again. "Oh, don't make me laugh, it hurts," she pouted, giving him a mixture between a good-natured smile and a grimace of agony.

"You're pretty sure of yourself, aren'tcha, chief?" she asked, eyebrows arching in challenge again. She wasn't interested in giving him the chance to prove it; not with the way things were going with Sam as of recently and certainly not after the way things had gone when she'd given Dean the chance to prove it. But, admittedly, she missed the playful, flirtatious banter that she and Dean had had and Sam wasn't providing it in the same fashion. Gambit was. It was as simple as that, really. Shannon enjoyed the game.

"For someone so certain that they'll impress, you're sure putting a lot of effort into it," she pointed out playfully. "But then...you know that you're good looking, don't you?" she asked. The men who knew it were the worst, really. It was interesting how Gambit seemed to be both firmly lodged into the stereotype with which she'd become so unwillingly familiar and at the same time so far from it with the compliments and playful banter. Usually it was one or the other. Even Dean, who had been the closest to falling into both categories as she'd ever met, hadn't been quite as blatantly flattering as Gambit was being.

Leaning her head back against the building again, Shannon looked up at him. "You know if you're too smooth, it's a turn off to the girls who are used to being hit on, right? We're already pretty immune to it after a while, but then when you add in all that slick stuff, we start to think you're all talk and it has nothing to do with us so much as you're stroking your own ego based on our swooning in response." She raised her eyebrows at him again, then.

She gave pause then. "Why are your eyes like that...?" she ventured reluctantly, knowing it was rude but unable to stop herself from satisfying her curiosity.

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1530 - Shannon & Remy
[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-10 11:34 am UTC (link)
"Nothin' wrong wit' bein' sure of yourself, Chere. No one wan' a man who always need to be tol' he grea', an' be reassure' he love'. Non? You need a man who ain' gonna hesi'a'e when he pull you in agains' him an' take you for his own." The Cajun waggled his eyebrows in a smooth motion then, his smile curling at the edges in a decidedly cat-who-ate-the-canary way. It looked good on him.

"You can be too smoot'? Je ne le savais pas. D'accord." With this, he was letting his good arm settle at his side, though the left remained up on his hip to keep his shoulder stabilized. "Yo, bi'ch." Now that was amusing! Ever hear a thickly-accented Cajun try to imitate a New York accent? Well, she had now! Really, really bad. "You ass look like it be smaller 'den it wus las' time I saw you. You don' look so fat from behin' now. So I t'ink you shoul' come over here, du'e," 'Dude' sounded very bad in Cajun. Very bad. "An' let uh real man show you how to ri'e. 'Cause my hommies, 'dey 'dun tell me 'dat you easy, an' 'das good 'cause I ain' got time to sweet talk you. You comin' wit' me, you ugly cow." As he finished that, he was bending at the waist, leaning forward some and allowing his hair to swing out casually. "How's dat, Chere?" That was awful, Gambit.

Just awful.

However, when she prompted him about his eyes, he had a simple response: the same one he gave to all women who asked him. "Red is 'de color of passion. 'Dey 'dis color, Chere, 'cause I'm a passionate man."

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1530 - Shannon & Remy
[info]ballerinadreams
2009-06-10 11:52 am UTC (link)
"Mmm, I suppose you're not wrong," Shannon admitted. There was, however, a difference between a man who was sure of himself and a man who was arrogant about it. As far as Shannon could tell, Gambit seemed to fall closer to the base of the second tree than the first. Not that it mattered, really, all things considered, but... The latter part of his statement, coupled with the grin and eyebrow waggling sent her back into her teenage years against her will. Her ex-husband used to make that face...and he sure as hell hadn't had a problem taking her for his own. Sometimes, whether she liked it or not. she looked away from Gambit again, the mask of unaffectedness firmly in place as she built her own personal walls up around herself. She wouldn't get out and Gambit didn't have a chance in hell getting in. No one did, really, when she put the right amount of effort forth.

Though, when he went on, trying to imitate a New York accent, muddling it terribly in his own Cajun one, Shannon had to laugh again, pressing her hands against her side as she grimaced. "Cut it out," she whined, still trying to settle her laughter as the wound in her side as well as the sore muscles in her back screamed in protest. "And that's...the opposite of smooth," she added with a small smirk, looking back up at him again. "Word to the wise - don't ever tell a girl that you've heard she's easy," she finished with another painful, soft laugh.

His response to her question about his eyes was less than satisfactory. "I've known a lot of passionate men...and none of them had red eyes," she pointed out. "Only time I've ever seen red eyes is on an albino, but...you're clearly not that, so..." her voice trailed off and she winced as her body complained when she reflexively shrugged. If he didn't want to tell her, that was fine, it just didn't make sense to invite her to ask questions and then dodge the most obvious one she could possibly have, was all. At least, it didn't make sense to her.

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1530 - Shannon & Remy
[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-10 12:06 pm UTC (link)
When she shut down, the Cajun lifted his eyebrows but didn't let his smile fade at all. He knew he'd catch her with his next little joke, and he did. He actually got her laughing! Which, well, was apparently bad. So the red-head just grinned his apology and finally came over closer to her, slowly turning so that he could press his back against the wall and slide down to be sitting next to her up against the museum. "Maybe you righ'. I won' tell 'de girls I hear 'dey easy. But if I can' be smoot' anymore, I can' be Cajun. Gotta be from New York." He couldn't help the jab at New Yorkers.. they were just unbelievable!

"No, not Albino." He agreed simply, pushing his good hand back through his hair briefly, to get it away from his face. "Was born like 'dis, 'dough. Had 'de eyes all my life. Never been a pro'lem." Not growing up somewhere like he had, anyway. "Don' really know why 'dey 'dis color, but I know it 'cause I ain' quite like 'de o'ter men. Je suis différent. Spécial. Mieux." The last part caused his smile to lift wider again. "I can do t'in's o'ter men can'. Like backflip off of buil'in's." Because he knew she'd ask what sorts of things made him different. He could go straight to his acrobatics, bypassing that whole.. blowing things up bit, real easily.

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1530 - Shannon & Remy
[info]ballerinadreams
2009-06-10 12:37 pm UTC (link)
Shannon watched Gambit, her eyes following him as he moved toward her and then sat down beside her. She gave him a ghost of a smile at his reply. "You can be smooth. No one said you can't. It'll work great on the girls that don't hear that stuff every day," she said with an intentionally nonchalant tone. "I mean, really, the only ones that won't think it's as smooth as you do would be the exceptionally amazing ones. You know, like me," she joked although she was careful to keep the tone serious, betraying the amusement dancing in her eyes as she said it.

A somewhat doubtful eyebrow arched briefly when he said that he'd never had a problem with his eyes being red, but she didn't ask. Maybe he was from the future. Or, like, an alternate version of Earth, where everyone had weird eyes. Who was she to judge?

Gambit said the eyes made him different, special - Shannon furrowed her brow just slightly and only for a split second. The next word she had expected to hear was "distingué." But he said better, which Shannon thought was an interesting choice of word. He mentioned acrobatics and that certainly made him different, but she wasn't sure how being a gymnast would make him better. She paused for a moment, considering her own words. "Cela signifie que vous êtes unique, mon ami, mais que signifie-t-il comment que vous êtes meilleur? Je ne suis pas sûr que je comprends," she said gently, offering him a pair of innocently curious eyes to accompany the furrowed brow.

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1530 - Shannon & Remy
[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-10 12:47 pm UTC (link)
"'De really amazin' ones. Like you, Chere." He agreed with that same easy-going Cajun smile. That stereotype about all Cajuns being laid back certainly seemed to be true. Louisiana, much like Jamaica, had a reputation for being a place to relax, where everyone just laid around and did nothing, until it was time to party. Well, Gambit certainly gave off that vibe. Though, at her skeptical look, he shook his head some.

"It was never a problem wit' 'de people who matter." There, perhaps that would explain it better? Sure, people on the streets.. but to his 'family', of sorts? It hadn't ever been a big deal. Not really.

When she questioned him about what made him better, the red-head took in a slow breath through his nose and a gloved hand lowered to pick up a stone from the ground and he lifted it up, holding it between his naked pointer finger, and his gloved thumb. "Je suis Le Diable Blanc. Il est qu'ils m'appellent." As he spoke, the stone trapped between his two fingers began to slowly turn pink and glow.. then the pink faded into red and the glow got brighter, almost like a small flashlight giving off a glow in every direction. "Il est ce qui me fait mieux. Mais ils l'ont mal. C'est un cadeau, pas un juron." He flicked the rock away then and as it impacted with the ground, about ten feet off, it exploded. Like a firecracker going off, throwing bits of dirt and debris in every direction, but none of it hard enough or far enough to reach them. "Je suis différent. Spécial. Mieux. Not better 'den o'ter people, 'dough. Jus' better 'dan I woulda' been."

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