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The Doctor ([info]fromgallifrey) wrote in [info]vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-06-10 18:36:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:!complete, day 10, location: in town, location: post office, remy lebeau, the doctor (ten)

Day 10: 10:14 PM
Who: The Doctor and Gambit
What: Exploring?
Where: Around town, the Post Office
When: Evening, Day 10
Rating: PG~
Status: Complete - carried over to new thread for day change

The aftershocks of the day's quake had come and gone, and the Doctor could say with reasonable certainty that the shuddering of the earth within the glass dome had reached it's rightful end. He'd spent the day running and carrying things and jumping and crawling and climbing. Yet, there he was, walking down the road with his hands shoved deep into his suit coat pockets, his trench coat currently in the depths of the museum. He knew he would need to go back for it. There was no way he would leave it in there. For right now, he knew it was safe, draped somewhere in the crumbling structure next to a no-doubt damaged half finished sonic modulator.

The Doctor's mind, however, was quiet. He was letting himself feel the pull of this planet around it's world as it hurled through time and space like an unstoppable mass. The Doctor knew what it took to stop a planet. He knew what it would take to rip this place form it's orbit and fling it into the far reaches of space outside any hope of time holding any meaning. Yet, all he could think of was the quiet of the dirt as his trainers moved along at a steady pace.

Rounding a bend he spied Gambit at a distance, his hair quite red despite the low light, his jacket a tell-tale feature as well. Without a word the Doctor watched, his steps leading him ever nearer. Gambit, it appeared, was staring at the Post Office.

The road started to crunch like gravel under his steps, no doubt alerting Gambit to his presence. It wasn't like the Doctor was trying to be stealthy anyway - he just didn't want to interrupt Gambit's train of thought, is all.

"Waiting for a letter?" He asked quietly, coming to a halt not far from him.


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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-10 06:03 pm UTC (link)
He was staring at the Post Office, intently, as if he were waiting for some sort of answer. As if the building was going to give him that answer. And he would have stood there for much longer, in silence, if the Doctor hadn't interrupted. It was the sound of his feet on the gravel that did indeed alert him.. but uncharacteristically, the Cajun didn't turn his head to greet the Doctor and give him a wide smile. Instead, he just continued staring at the Post Office, even after the question had been posed. In fact, it would take him almost a full minute to finally speak up and voice his answer.

"Non. C'est dimanche. Le courrier ne vient pas dimanche." No, mail didn't come on Sunday, and for the Cajun, today was Sunday. He could still remember what day of the week it was because he hadn't been here very long at all. Almost two days, actually. Almost. However, his reply was softer than usual, mimicking the Doctor's own quiet tone.

"You know, I almos' lef'. Was plannin' on it. Was stan'in' here, like 'dis, when 'de blon'e girl, she ask me to come help. She was pretty, so I help, fix up her frien', get him to 'de Gym. 'Den I was comin' back, wen' to 'de museum to take a few t'in's I wan'." Steal, he'd meant. "'Dere was a girl 'dere, too. Shannon. We talk for a bit. En'e up leavin' wit'ou' what I wen' for. 'Den 'de quakes star' 'gain. Got caugh' up. Had to help out again." He let out a breath and pushed his hands into the pockets of his coat, then finally turned to face the Doctor. His turtleneck that he'd been wearing was gone, replaced by just a tanktop he'd been wearing beneath. "I ain' no hero, Docteur. 'Dese people, 'dey ain' my people. 'Dey no use to me. I'm a T'ief. I'm a Liar. I'm a trai'or. I do wha' I wan' an' I take wha' I wan', 'den I go. 'Dese people? 'Dey not'in' to me. None of you." He lifted his eyebrows slowly, but then turned to face the Post Office again, not having been able to meet the Doctor's gaze after having said that.

"But when it come down to it, I'm still stan'in' here, non? Ain' gone yet. Pourquoi dans l'Enfer je ne peux pas marcher de cet endroit?" So why the Hell couldn't he walk out of this place? "Why'm I still here? Don' really make sense, non?"

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-10 06:23 pm UTC (link)
The silence percolated between the two quasi-friends. Even as the Cajun responded to his query the Doctor could feel a ripple in the air. There was something more.

He wished he had his coat. That he could shove his hands deep down in his pockets in his own peculiar version of crossing his arms. Instead he was forced to stand there, his hands all out in the cold with his trainers feeling like they were super glued to the pavement.

"Thick as thieves," he said quietly. Little clues were coming together for the Doctor. The quiet grace, the practiced moves, the almost cunning demeanor; not to mention the inquisition conversations sometimes turned into with Gambit.

The Time Lord didn't make any motion to come between Gambit and the Post Office. Instead he stood his ground, itching for that coat of his still. The Doctor didn't do intimacy. Usually people found things out about him in a slow and methodical manner and then when they were gone, they were gone. He didn't learn favorite colors or jam preference. He didn't learn birthdays or pets. No, he traveled with them for a time, and when their time came they left. The Doctor was used to being alone and having things on his terms.

Yet, here was Gambit, calling no one his people. Kicking himself for whatever it was he did outside of this place. Acting like he was a fish out of water when clearly he'd managed to find his stride somewhere in the heart of all this.

He hadn't even let his mind fathom the thought of what Gambit meant about leaving. What he was trying to say about getting out of here. The Gallifreyan was just a touch more intrigued by why the Cajun was saying what he was.

"I can't tell you what you are or what you aren't. Though, you could have very easily left all the people you helped behind." He was still so very quiet, keeping still. He felt like an observer seeing a creature in it's native habitat.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-10 06:35 pm UTC (link)
"Oui." He agreed, to the Doctor's statement that he could have left them all behind. "Almos' did, a few times. But someone was always draggin' me here or 'dere. 'Dat ain' me. I don' help people. Enfants? Sure. Maybe 'de occasional pretty girl. An' back when I had people? I help 'dem, too. But I see one of 'dem 'gain? 'Dey can rot in Hell." Red eyes remaining locked onto the Post Office, keeping his attention focused there. Idly, his shoulders rolled up, rocking the coat some as he did. "Shoul'a lef' 'dem behin'. Shoul'na let 'dem talk me into helpin'. Faible. Cela me rend faible." Weak. It made him weak. Caring about people made you weak. It made you a better person to be alone. He pushed his hands further into his pockets, fingers curling there as the jacket began to glow softly. The Cajun seemed completely unaware of what he was doing. Dangerous.

"Woul' you leave all 'dese people behin', Docteur, if you coul' trade 'dere lives for yours? I talk to L'initié today. Made frien's." Saying that made his lips curl up a little. "T'inks I'm funny. He say we meet, have coffee. Non sûr s'il l'a voulu dire. Mais je crois qu'il a fait." He wasn't sure if he'd meant it, but he thought he did.

"I'm still here." He sounded somewhat amused by that, the flat tone in his voice slowly melting away as his little smile returned. So much for seriousness. Or perhaps not.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-10 06:50 pm UTC (link)
He tried to think of something witty to say in response to Gambit. Really he did. He wanted to fling something at him to make that red head spin and the Cajun go 'huh?' Instead, the Doctor was silent - his mind frozen in a sludge of near exhaustion. "Weak?" The Doctor repeated quietly, his questioning tone dimmed only by his distraction. He didn't understand where the Cajun was coming from - though, the Doctor sympathized. There was a time when all he'd wanted to do was travel alone for the rest of time. For he and his stolen Police Box to travel the cosmos in peace. People meant hurt. People meant pain. People meant that he'd always be reminded of just how alone he was.

Perhaps he wasn't as over all that as he thought.

"Are you trying to rid yourself of your jacket?" He asked quietly, watching as it glowed faintly in the dark.

"You think you made friends with our captor? The person whose lone objective seems torture and experimentation?" The Doctor was looking at Gambit like he had five heads.

"I could not leave these people behind, friend or not. I have a duty, a responsibility, a code. I wouldn't leave them. I wouldn't leave you."

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-10 07:00 pm UTC (link)
When the Doctor asked him about his coat, that did snap him out of it and he looked down at him, then after a few seconds, the coat returned to its brown, unglowing state and he removed his hands from the pockets, to assure it didn't happen again. But that had been the distraction, and the Cajun was smiling over at the dark-eyed man in the suit. "Cap'or? Non. 'Dis person ain' 'de cap'or. Jus' enjoyin' 'de game. Say 'dat he, or she, I suppose, walkin' 'roun', talkin' to people, an' 'dey don' even know it's dem. Knows French. Entertain' 'de t'ough might'a been you." He lifted his eyebrows when he said that, smile getting a bit wider. "Mais non." But no. He was sure it wasn't. "Trie' to make a deal. Didn' work." When he said that, the smile lowered a bit again and he turned to face the Post Office once again.

"You coul'n'? Duty? Responsib'lty?" He smirked then, tilting his head back to look into the dark sky above them, then at the Post Office again. "Woul'n' leave me? Even if I woul' leave you? Because I woul'." He said it, but he had already demonstrated that he wouldn't, no matter how much he liked to profess that he would. "I foun' it to'day. Maybe eigh' hours ago? Hid it so o'ters woul'n' fin' it." Found what?

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-10 07:15 pm UTC (link)
"I'm of the belief that whomever is behind those journal entries will say anything just to make us believe what they want us to." He hadn't even looked at his journal since this whole day had turned to chaos, it had been tucked away safely in his jacket pocket. The same jacket that was currently waiting for him to come claim it in the museum.

"No, I couldn't." He said that plainly without raising his voice. He didn't need dramatics.

The Doctor looked at the Post Office. Remy found something in there. The Doctor was still back a few steps.

"So, they were keeping something in there, then?" He still didn't move, not one muscle.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-10 07:20 pm UTC (link)
Remy only nodded when the Doctor made the connection. There was something in there. The Cajun came forward a few steps, until he could bend and jerk the stick out from where he'd wedged it between the door and the jam, to keep it closed, and the broken hinges would force that door to pop open again, revealing the littered room.. mail equipment, old boxes, papers.. and a door. A door that revealed a tunnel behind it.

"A tunnel." He announced as he came a step closer, his booted foot resting on the threshold of the door into the post office, as he looked past the mess and watched that door intently.

"Dunno where it lea's." As he'd said before, he hadn't been able to bring himself to go down there and leave everyone behind. It was clearly disturbing him, the reason he'd stayed behind in this place instead of hightailing it as soon as he'd found what could be an exit.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-10 07:27 pm UTC (link)
His former comment going unnoticed the Gallifreyan found himself thankful he hadn't been challenged. It was clear, by actions at least, that Remy might be made of similar stock. Or, at least, that's what the Doctor thought.

From the place he stood, the Doctor watched as the door was pulled open and a tunnel in the middle of the Post Office came into view. The Doctor didn't know where it lead. He wasn't convinced he really wanted to know. Everything felt like a foil at this point: intended just to make he and everyone else more upset and angry. The earthquake was just a raise in the stakes when people started getting comfortable and complacent.

"Could be a way out. Could be a trap." It was the Doctor's opportunity to have a flat vocalization. He was brimming on the inside. He had so much he wanted to absolutely scream at Gambit as he thought he saw right through him; but, he kept mute.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-10 07:35 pm UTC (link)
"Coul' be." He agreed quietly, breathing in deeply through his nose as he did, and rocking up onto his toes. A strange action, one the Cajun hadn't done in the Doctor's presence before. He balanced there a few long seconds, not even swaying before he settled fluidly onto his feet again. "I wan' check it out." The Cajun announced easily.

But after a few heartbeats, he turned his head to look directly at the Doctor, face partially obscured by the door as he had to look around it towards the alien. "You ever been so work' up, so angry, you wanna jus'.. I dunno. Ruin somet'in'? Make somet'in' hur'?" There. That question. That pinpointed it, the strange silence and lack of a smile that the Cajun was sporting. Gambit was angry. Rather angry, from the sounds of it, if that had been why he'd asked the question. He was angry at himself, of all things. He should have left. He should have walked away. He hadn't. What the hell was wrong with him? A hand curled up into a fist, glove taking on a soft glow, but then it subsided and he released the fist.

"You t'ink it's a trap, mon ami?" Finally, back on to topic.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-10 07:44 pm UTC (link)
Of course Gambit wanted to check it out. Anyone worth their salt would want to check it out. The Doctor wanted to.

"You mean that fire in the bottom of your stomach and the back of your head? The one that makes you want to scream and pound and tear the lot of it to bits?" The Doctor knew rage. Intimately.

"The bringer of darkness. Destroyer of worlds. Oncoming storm," they all had an air of destruction to them, didn't they? Add a dash of rage, and hate and fear and you had the pronunciation correct. Though, the way the Doctor said them in turn they almost sounded sad. "That's what they called me." Who they was happened to be a question for another time.

"Well, I suppose we'll have to find out," he steered back onto the road and walked slowly from his post to where Gambit was being an apt sentry. "No time like the present."

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-10 07:53 pm UTC (link)
When the Doctor repeated the feeling, Gambit nodded. Yes. That was the feeling. He was glad to know that the Doctor knew it. Glad to know he wasn't the only one that could feel something that thick, that deep. That dangerously.

And when the names were finally fessed up, answering the Cajun's question from hours earlier in the day, he looked over at the suited man once again. "Le Diable Blanc. Yours are plus impressive." Though, he hadn't said it in an excited tone, he'd simply stated it. He pushed a hand back through his hair, ruffling it up some before letting it fall where it may.

He was completely prepared for the Doctor to tell him that it was too dangerous and that he was silly for wanting to go in there, and that they should wait for more people, or that they should get the others. Something. Anything. And when he didn't, Gambit found himself oddly pleased, oddly comforted by the fact that the Doctor thought like he did. So, in an effort to lighten up the mood as they began the trek into the tiny, messy Post Office, Gambit spoke up again, a bit more cheerfully this time. And his tone, strangely enough, was almost proud. "I never wen' t'school. Not a day in my life, up 'til 'few mon'hs ago. Logan, his people, 'dey base' in a school."

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-10 08:02 pm UTC (link)
Well, now they each knew where one another stood, now didn't they? The Oncoming Storm meets Le Diable Blanc. The person who saw this odd rapport coming deserved a medal. Or at least a cookie.

"You're brilliant," the Doctor started, his mind tickling with the idea of just how brilliant the Cajun could have been given the opportunity to apply himself. "My people, when we're very young, we go to the Academy." Prydonian Academy, where Time Lords and Ladies have their mustard tested. Where they learn about time and space and timey whimey jibber jabble. Though, at the Doctor thought about it, he didn't really see Logan as the sort suited for school.

The Post Office and it's debris were walked through and largely ignored as the Doctor tried to peer through the tunnel before them. They'd need a light source of some sort if they were going to head down there.

"Think you can manage a light for us?" Of course he could, but it was polite to ask.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-10 08:12 pm UTC (link)
"Non." The Cajun assured him with a sudden grin. "You brillian', Docteur. I'm craf'y, but not brillian'. 'De lil' girl, at 'de school, juste une petite fille, she ask me to help wit' her mat'. Time tables." Red eyes rolled up. "I tell her I was busy. Quelles sont des tables de temps?" It was more a rhetorical question, though. "I don' even know. Maybe if I learn', I have pick up on it, non? Maybe I be brillian'. Ain' got much need f'school, 'dough, when you learnin' o'ter t'in's, oui?"

But when the Doctor mentioned he'd gone to an Academy, it made Gambit's lips curl up. "Mus' been fun. An' you come ou' so smar'." He was pushing his hands into his pockets as the Doctor requested light, instead of picking up a box, and the coat began to glow softly. But then he thought better of it and removed his hands, swiping up a broken piece of plastic, instead. If he had to drop it for any reason, and didn't have time to charge it, he didn't want to be wearing it. Plastic it was. And once they had a light, the Cajun was lowering it some to get a better look in the dark tunnel. "You immor'al, Docteur?" Immortal, of course. If the Doctor couldn't die, he was going first! If not, Gambit would gladly go in first. He honestly thought he had a better chance of fighting something off if he had to.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-10 08:21 pm UTC (link)
"I know brilliant," the Doctor responded. He also knew he was brilliant, which was why he could be so sure. "No recreational math?" The Doctor looked a little disappointed there. Everyone could use at least one lesson in the fundamentals of fun math. Math being, after all, what makes the world go round.

"Oh, I wouldn't say school makes anyone smart. It just pumps you full of bits and pieces. It's how you use them that makes you smart," he rambled, his furrowed brow accompanied by the tweaking of his upper lip as he tried to make out anything in the darkness of the passage below.

"Immortal? Not in the strictest sense." Even still, the Doctor was already taking steps down the stairs. If there was something down there it was a very stealthy creature indeed. "Last time I was in a place this dark someone tried to nick my screwdriver."

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-10 08:27 pm UTC (link)
"Recrea'n'l mat'? You gotta be kiddin'." He smirked all the same and was following the Doctor down those steps, shaking his head as he did. He'd rather be in front, if the Doctor wasn't impossible to kill. He figured he could protect them both if he had to.. though he wasn't sure he would. He was following anyway, and once down the long flight of stairs he was coming along the Doctor's side, lifting the piece of plastic to light the way.

"Screw'river? 'Da's too kinky even for me, Docteur, we gon' have to ret'ink our rela'ionship. Don' know as I wan' you an your screw'river havin' free-range." His done was definitively light and teasing as those red eyes turned aside onto his.. friend? Was he, really? Gambit supposed he was the closest thing he had to a friend. So sure. Why not? It was rare that he got to use that word.. but he reminded himself that it didn't mean he wouldn't leave him behind in a heartbeat if it came to it.

Then why had he wanted to go first? Idiot Cajun. Remy let out a slow breath at his own logic.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-10 08:57 pm UTC (link)
"You don't know what you're missing!" He was serious in his enthusiasm, certainly Gambit had picked up on that. It was never clear if the Doctor's pseudonym came from his desire to help or a love of learning, it wouldn't be all the surprising that he enjoyed the idea of numbers and math being fun.

"It's my sonic screwdriver. I was trying to replicate bits of it with the modulator," again his mind went back to the thought of the most likely destroyed tool residing in the library. "I've gotten out of more pickles with my screwdriver than anyone ever has with a gun."

The steps finally came to a halt and the Doctor squinted into the darkness. There was the smell of earth in the tunnels, he was fairly sure at some point parts would be crumbling courtesy of the earthquake. The air tasted stale, like the place had been closed up a while. He didn't like the feel of it. Though, the darkness seemed almost a comfort in an odd way.

His fist few steps and the Doctor winced, looking down at what had just crumpled beneath him. "Is that a slimfast bar wrapper?" His brow quirked.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-10 09:08 pm UTC (link)
"Guns? Ils ne font rien pour moi. Don' like guns." He scrunched up his nose and shook his head in displeasure. "Sonic?" Don't bother, Doctor. He didn't know what 'Sonic' was. He'd need it explained from the bottom up.

However, when the Doctor suddenly came to a stop, Gambit did as well and lowered his eyes to look at the ground as well, eyebrows lifting. He was crouching down to pick it up, standing up just seconds later to show the Doctor, bringing the piece of plastic closer so they could inspect it. "How you know it was a slimfas', Docteur? You ea' 'dese?" It was a light tease, but he was definitely more interested in this wrapper than anything else at the moment. "Someone been down here," Captain Obvious. "L'initié, non?" Or, that was what Gambit had instantly thought of.

"You got slimfas' in 'dis town, Docteur?" Was it something that someone could have gotten from the town? Maybe one of their own people who had found this tunnel before them? Or was that something that they definitely had none of in the town?

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-10 09:17 pm UTC (link)
The Doctor beamed in the dim light of the charged plastic. No wonder they were friends. The Doctor was quite amused by the thought of that. It actually made his grin brighter.

Gambit leaned over and took up the crumpled wrapper with care, turning it about and inspecting it. "I would the smell of it anywhere. Shannon eats those like they're the only food suitable for consumption... I think I can taste them in my sleep." There were bits of crumbs and residue left on the wrapper, and for the Doctor he might as well have the damned thing in his mouth. "Besides, they come in the same style of wrapping - white on the outside, silver on the inside."

"They had cases of them..." Apparently, some of the cases had wandered down into these tunnels. Where they had been consumed. By someone.

"Could be the Insider... Could be someone else from our group. Perhaps someone who got here before us and came down into these tunnels to hide?" The Doctor's face was scrunched in concentration. He wouldn't put it past someone wanting to hide down here, especially if they had been alone in town for a very long time.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-10 09:25 pm UTC (link)
"Shannon?" Gambit prompted quietly, looking aside at him with a lift of his eyebrows. Shannon ate these things? The Insider had mentioned Shannon, too. Which made the Cajun give the Doctor a scrutinizing look, before he dismissed it.

But then again.. he was dropping the wrapper, listening as the Doctor spoke.. then he finally breathed in deeply. "Vous savez, I can' be sure you're not L'initié, an' you can' be sure I'm not L'initié." He turned to face the Doctor as he said that, lowering the piece of plastic between them so the glow lit their faces from beneath. He wasn't accusing, though. He wasn't panicky. Wasn't worried. He was simply stating the obvious. However, after a few seconds, he was moving his hand into his inside jacket pocket to pull out his journal and offered it over to the Doctor, so that he could look in it. The first little bit of non-sense, the back-and-forth from himself and the Insider, was right in the front.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-10 09:36 pm UTC (link)
"She seems to think that despite the fact they are laden with high fructose corn syrup they are either nutritious or good for her figure." The Doctor's tongue clicked at he thought about it. He'd have to ask her why she ate them later.

There was a strange intonation to the Cajun's voice that gave the Doctor pause. The light shifted and the Cajun was rustling as he exhumed the journal and held it out for the Doctor to see. He gave it a cursory glance. It had never occurred to him that he was the Insider, and he hadn't thought that it would occur to anyone that he might be, either.

"I would show you mine, unfortunately it's back in my coat pocket in the museum." The Doctor shrugged. His coat had been there all day, buried under the rubble no doubt. "I can't believe you try and charm people through the paper," he jabbed, snapping the journal shut and handing it back.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-10 10:22 pm UTC (link)
When the Doctor mentioned his coat, Gambit's lips twisted up again, but he didn't say anything. It was certainly a strange reaction, to say the least. But he wouldn't say anything of it. The Doctor would find out about that smile, later. "Try an' charm, mon ami? Non. I did charm. I'm a profess'n'l." He lifted his eyebrows then and looked back down the hall, finally turning away to face the dark hall in front of them again.

"Onwar' an' upwar', non?" This said, he was stepping around the Doctor to move down the tunnel hallways first. Partially because it felt safer that way and partially because he was experimenting. Would the Doctor let him go first, or would he trot along and come side-by-side with him? He knew the Doctor was a natural born leader, he had been able to tell just by his brief time here already. Hell, even he was interested in following him, and that was saying something.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-11 06:52 pm UTC (link)
"A professional charmer, perhaps," the Doctor rebutted, his gaze following Gambit's down the tunnel of sorts. There were places where the pouring of soil from the roof to the cemented floor. At least so far none of the tunnel appeared to have collapsed, that spoke much for it's structural integrity.

Red eyes struck out in front of him and the Doctor moved to keep pace at his side. He wasn't the sort who usually did well following - perhaps it was just centuries of relative independence. In any event, the were continuing down the tunnel at a pace that was just two ticks too high for his back to really be comfortable with. The Doctor said nothing.

"You think someone's been living down here, or just hiding out?" There was the crunching of more wrappers beneath their feet. Living was sounding arguably like the most likely option.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-11 07:07 pm UTC (link)
"I guess 'dat 'depen' on your defini'ion of livin, non?" He flashed a grin aside at the Doctor again, but kept that even pace. If his companion didn't complain, then he had no reason to think that everything wasn't fine and dandy. He knew his back hurt, but he had no idea that it pain hadn't subsided some. The pain in his own ankle was only a dull throb now, though his shoulder hurt more, and the rest of his body ached from the fall he took, and from his thrashing around today, when he should have been resting.

As the came upon more wrappers, Gambit lowered his glowing piece of plastic to get a better look, crouching down in front of them and picking one up to look over it. "Slimfas'." Announced, before he dropped it again and gracefully rose back up to his feet, breathing in deeply through his nose and pushing his free hand into his jacket pocket. It helped stabilize it, and it felt better. "I say someone been livin' down here." After a few steps further in, the Cajun came to a stop and listened for a heartbeat, then directed red eyes to the Doctor once again. "You say you a time travel'r, oui? How you travel, mon ami? You got a ship? A bracel't? You jus' do it wit' your min'? You know, blink an' you 'dere? Or your screw'river? 'Dat it?" Curious Cajun. But could the Doctor really blame him? He was interested in learning, but he'd never had the chance, so he tried at every turn to find out new things. Curious, really, was an understatement. He *needed* to know. And somehow, some way, he always found out what he needed to know.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-11 07:15 pm UTC (link)
"They really enjoy their Slimfast bars, don't they?" The Doctor didn't know anyone who actually enjoyed them; it was more a matter of tolerance; the Doctor just refused to tolerate.

"Why would someone live down here?" The Doctor paused, there was a small alcove to the right, turning her walked slowly down it. The tunnel seemed to raise, and his toe collided with a step. There was a flight of steps in front of him. "Fancy that," he mused, pushing up the stairs and then up on the trap door above them.

Cool night air rushed in and the smell of gasoline and fire. The Doctor's head peeked out of what was now the ruined petrol station.

"It all comes together in the end..."

He hadn't forgotten the redhead's question. "I travel in my TARDIS. My ship." His nose wrinkled as he surveyed the damage. Apparently, the quake had nearly leveled both it and the nearby carnival.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-11 07:24 pm UTC (link)
That was another way that the Doctor and the Cajun differed. Gambit, most of this life, had eaten what he could get his hands on. Regardless of what it was. He'd had many a meal straight from a garbage can and it hadn't ever phased him. It was one reason that he never got ill -- he had the most amazing immune system known to man, thanks to all that stuff he'd eaten, with no regard to where it'd come from, or what it was.

"I live down here, Docteur, cooler." Since it was underground. "No one t'bot'er you. Lossa privacy." He was coming up slowly behind the Doctor and looking up through the trap door as well, whistling slowly at the carnage, and the bit of fire still burning. He considered putting it out, but thought better of it, and went back down the steps. "An' apparen'ly, you can trav'l where you wan', wit'ou' bein' seen? I won'er if 'dese take you o'ter places? Le Musée? Le Théâtre? La Gym? La Tour d'Horloge?" The red-head wondered his words aloud as he slowly began down the hall, eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-11 07:38 pm UTC (link)
"I think we could move everyone down here." There was plenty of space, nooks and bits for people to take up refuge in. The only thing that they might need to worry about is if the quakes started again. Though, the Doctor didn't much mind the thought of taking up this space, even if someone else might think it theirs.

The burning gasoline was acrid to the Doctor's finer senses and as such he was carefully moving back down the steps at a measured pace.

"The whole place, linked up by tunnels. It's how they managed to get people for experiments.." He was talking in a soft voice, something that hinted his mind was off working at it's own little puzzles.

"There must be a nerve center here.. Somewhere they keep tabs..." The Doctor was pacing a little, trying to decide which way to go. If he were running this show where would he put it? Oh, that was rubbish, he was quite certain whoever was responsible thought nothing like him at all.

The Doctor slowed, pausing to scratch at his head, willing his brain to work more efficiently.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-11 07:58 pm UTC (link)
"You wan' brin' people down here, Docteur? You mean, to live?" That was almost dejected sounding, from the Cajun. This was his tunnel, damnit. He found it and if anyone was going to live in it, he was. But.. the Doctor did have a point. It seemed like it could fit a good deal of people in here, and there were plenty of places that could be used as 'rooms' of sorts. And most of the buildings were unlivable, but:

"If we livin' in here, an' 'dey seal off 'de tunnel an' lock us in here, how we gon' get ou'?" Aside from everyone running to one end and Gambit blowing the Hell out of a portion of it. This place was deep, and it was obviously strong if most of it withstood those earthquakes. And it'd be a perfect trap, just as the Doctor had mentioned earlier.

Gambit had stopped to watch the Doctor as he paced, eyebrows up and curious about the movements, and the mumbling that he was going on about. And surely, the Doctor was right. Whoever was running this place thought nothing like him. They were clearly clever, but they were also clearly not one of the 'good guys', and didn't mind hurting innocent people, in order to get what they wanted. Those were certainly not traits that the Doctor had.

They were, however, traits that the red-head watching with interest held. But, of course, there was no way he could have known where they were keeping it, either. It all came down to a guessing game, really. "'De gym hold up well, non? An' 'das where 'dey put all 'de supplies. Where 'dey know people gon' en' up, oui? Maybe 'dey got somet'in' 'dere?" Certainly not a nerve center (Gambit wasn't quite sure what that meant, but he imagined it was like.. a brain. The base of operations), but it could still be something. Maybe. If it weren't collapsed, of course.

"You don' okay, Docteur?" But as soon as he asked that, the light went out, and the pair were in the complete pitch black of the tunnels.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-11 08:05 pm UTC (link)
He was thinking thickly. The Doctor realized that as Remy pointed out the flaws in this plan. Perhaps he was as tired as his muscles wanted him to think. Though, the Doctor was in fact a firm believer of mind over matter.

"You have a point," he conceded in a rapid fire sort of intonation. He didn't like the thought of getting everyone trapped down here whether through a cave in or more malicious methods.

"The gym?" The Doctor hadn't really considered it, but he supposed it could be in the gym. He hadn't made it there for very long save to drop off Sid. After that he found a tree where he had spent the rest of the afternoon leaning, trying to will his back to behave. He'd made progress, localizing the nerve and doing some deliberate stretches. The walkabout the pair were taking now, however, was starting to undo most of the work he'd done.

"You doin' okay?" The Doctor heard and then the tunnel went dark. The Doctor held his breath a moment, listening. "Manage to drop the plastic?" He asked, his tone light.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-11 08:12 pm UTC (link)
"Non. I drop 'de plas'ic, mon ami, we dead." Well.. that was a comforting thought, now wasn't it? But the light didn't come back on, and there were sounds of the Cajun moving around, shuffling his feet some. Or.. at least.. hopefully that was the Cajun. It was impossible to tell in this darkness.

"'De plas'ic gone. It turn t'dus'. Fall apar'." They'd been in these tunnels a good half an hour already, perhaps more. He'd never charged anything for that long.. and apparently, it had its drawbacks. The item had, over a time, simply lost the molecular structure and had fallen apart in his hands. And, presumably, he was searching around for something else to use. Something he didn't mind being disintegrated. So his coat was out of the question. And the few nuts and bolts in his pocket weren't going to light anything but his hand. He needed something bigger.

He had his journal, but... Well. He was keeping that. And maybe if he voiced these concerns to the Doctor, he might have had something to offer up for the mutant to light the way. Unfortunately, he had very quickly moved into independent mode and certainly wasn't going to ask for help. He wasn't used to asking for help, or having anyone to ask. So they remained in the dark a little longer.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-11 08:19 pm UTC (link)
"If I was dead I'd be bursting into a rather painful state of existence right now," he snipped back. That carried his mind to the topic of regeneration, something the Doctor pushed back and away. Never doing that again. Ever.

"Fell apart?" Well, that made the Doctor smile. That meant that if the Cajun were to charge something too often or too long it would completely depolarize the ions that held the molecules together in effect totally stripping an item of it's physical properties.

"The wall..." He said, his tone full of the smile that infected his features, his pose, and his voice. Better than any modulator. The Doctor thought it might work.. Though, he imagined he'd have to talk Remy into it. It would only take one shot.. It had to work. Though, what if he couldn't charge something so large as the entire glass wall for long enough? The Doctor winced. There was a fly in his ointment.

It was then the Doctor realized that he had been in the dark a while and that Remy was very silent. "Did you run out for milk?"

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-11 08:26 pm UTC (link)
The Cajun had been quiet that entire time. He hadn't been listening to the Doctor's words, if he had, he might have put two and two together just the same as the other man. But no. He'd been a bit busy checking himself over to find something that was going to work to light their way. Something big enough, something that wasn't going to fall apart or tear if he made sudden movements, something that wouldn't bend.. it had to have some substance to it, something to help it take the charge.

And when the Doctor prompted him, the light came on seconds later, and Remy stood up, lifting one of his boots up. The whole thing was glowing, right down to the swinging laces, and the Cajun had an eyebrow lifted in a displeased manner. "Nex' time, you gon' sacrifice up somet'in' to 'de tor'ch Gods, non?" He looked down at his own feet, the injured one still in the stabilizing boot, and the other one with just a sock. He'd considered the sock, but it was too floppy. Something so immobile didn't hold a charge well. It needed to be strong, inflexible. That was why he liked cards. Much tougher than paper, coated in plastic, and they flew *really* well.

"You still doin' okay? Or you wan' me to go back for 'dat milk?" An easy quip that came with a smile.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-11 08:39 pm UTC (link)
Wait. Was that? Wait. What?!

It was. It was a glowing boot. A glowing boot. A glowing boot? The Doctor's brain went on repeat a moment as he started to laugh. He tried to contain it, but there was something supremely comical about seeing the Cajun in one shoe, holding up the other like lantern.

"I-I-I'm sorry," the Doctor gasped for breath. He hadn't laughed, really laughed, since he'd got there. It was like a dam spilled open and here he was riding the wave. The Doctor gripped his sides, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"S-Sorry," he sputtered. "Don't even think about my trainers. Or my specs." The Doctor looked at the ground, there was a large chunk of concrete which he picked up and held out for Gambit. "You can have this, though." Snarky bastard.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-11 08:51 pm UTC (link)
While the Doctor laughed, the Cajun nodded, doing his best to not break into a grin. He wanted to pretend like he was completely serious, but he wasn't Of course he wasn't. But he was trying to look stern, and was failing.

"You gon' hol' 'dat chunk of concre'e while we down here, mon ami? 'Dat t'in's heavy. I need somet'in' again? I'm takin' your un'erwear." Threatened as he waggled his boot at him, the laces flopping around like live wires as he did. It really was a very pretty thing to watch. Everything looked different when it glowed like that. It wasn't a blinding glow, the outlines and most of the item could still be distinguished, it was just.. glowing. And surprisingly, the shoe was a bright brighter than the plastic had been.

"You gon' laugh, you gon' lead 'de way." The Cajun was nodding then. Get a move on, Doctor!

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-11 08:58 pm UTC (link)
The Doctor could see that Gambit's facade was crumbling - even he knew how ridiculous he looked walking around in one shoe with it's mate glowing in his hand. Thinking about it the Time Lord struggled to contain his chuckle again.

"Oh, it's not that heavy," the Doctor mused, lifting it up and down a few times. "Five kilos?" He swung it around a little more, "Err.. maybe four and nine eighths."

The Doctor had been told to lead, so lead he did. The tunnel continued onward and the Doctor found himself in a surpsingly good mood in spite of his back. It was the laughter. Another set of stairs and the Doctor climbed them carefully before peeking his head out. They were back at the museum, or, at least close by. Carefully he ducked down, not wishing for people to see the trap door that had spring up from the underbrush.

"Well look at this..." he mused. "You don't change your socks often, do you?"

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-11 09:06 pm UTC (link)
He finally broke down and lowered his head, his face splitting into a grin. "'Das too heavy for me, mon ami. Or you forge' you jus' shove my arm back in 'de socke'?" He wanted to be able to carry the object in his other hand, if he needed to use his good one. No way he'd be able to lift that thing for a steady walk. No way he was going to try, if he didn't have to.

As they continued walking, the Cajun was watching the ground for wrappers, and peeking in any deviating hallways, even if they dead ended. He definitely wanted to live in these tunnels, if they didn't lead to a way out. However, as they came to the trap door at the museum, Gambit let out a slow breath, but was backing away and allowing the older man to close that small door up. But then he was making fun of him-- again! And the Cajun smirked.

"I been here two days. I ain' ate. I ain' slep' well. I ain' shower an' I ain' change my clot'es. You lucky I swipe 'de too'brush an' de hair brush I manage. Else I be 'lot worse. So don' complain." He waggled the shoe at him again, almost like he was threatening him with it. "When we get outta here, I wan' a shower. An' new clot'es." Or at least to wash the ones he was wearing. Of course, he was wearing less than he had been earlier, because he'd given his turtleneck to Shannon.

"An' new shoes." Definitely new shoes, since he'd only have one when this was all over. Or maybe he could keep switching items, and he'd be able to keep them all in tact? There was a thought. But he didn't exactly keep time on the last item, nor could he really keep time on this one...

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-12 10:18 am UTC (link)
He had forgotten.The Doctor shook his head, scratched it, and then shook it again. It was like he thought that the act might bring some semblence of sense back to his brain.

As the door was lowered back down again the Doctor was already offering a cheeky grin. "Too bad you missed out on the hot showers..." He let his voice trail off. "And if you were hungry.. well, most of our food was in the petrol station." Wow, when did the Doctor turn into such a party pooper?

Gambit was rambling off the things he wanted like he were a kid on Santa's lap, and that made the Doctor's grin linger than it might had he not. There was a funny sort of liveliness to Gambit, something the Doctor appreciated. Reminded him of Ace in an odd sort of way. A combination of Jack and Ace. The world might actually end tomorrow.

"I ought to find a place to rest," the Doctor said quietly. "Otherwise, I think my back might eventually rebel." Alright, so it was already rebelling, for now however it's coup d'etat could be ignored and shoved under the rug of Time Lord stubbornness. Though, even the Doctor didn't know how long her could keep at that act.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-12 10:36 am UTC (link)
"Ho' showers? Mm, talk dir'y to me, mon ami. Tell me 'bou' 'de soap an' 'de way it feel when you ain' dir'y an' sticky, oui?" Playfully quipped back, with a grin. The words had come out in a more throaty tone, as if he were on some phone sex line, but wanted to talk about showers more than, you know, sex. Because right now? A shower was more appealing.

And when the Doctor let his grin linger a little longer, the Cajun waggled his eyebrows some at him and swung the boot some, then lowered it down to waist level. "Vous devriez avoir dit en passant que vous étiez dans la douleur, le Docteur stupide. Come on, we go a bit fur'her, non? We stop when we fin' a place wit' somewhere to sit, ain' in 'de main tunnel."

And sure enough, Gambit was leading the way through that tunnel a bit further, maybe a five minute walk, before they came across a small alcove, where a few more of those wrappers were, and the Cajun scrunched his nose. "Here, mon ami. Un bon endroit pour de vieux hommes pour se reposer." He was gesturing to the area, then began shrugging his coat off, switching his boot from hand to hand, and he was tossing the coat down onto the ground, so the Doctor could either lay on it, ball it up and put it where ever it was needed (head, small of the back.. where ever it felt best), or well.. simply ignore it, really.

With the jacket off, it was easy to see he was in just a tank-top now, without his turtleneck securely in place. And the large bruise that covered most of his left shoulder was displayed, even in the dimness of the tunnel. He blamed you for that, Doctor. All your fault. In fact, everything was the Doctor's fault, from here on out. So said Gambit. "Rest." An easy command, as he lowered down as well, leaning back against the wall and stretching his legs out into that long alcove. It was nice, to sit.


[*Translation: You should have mentioned you were in pain, stupid Doctor.
*A good place for old men to rest.
]

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-12 11:37 am UTC (link)
"Don't," he said in a tone generally reserved for Jack. Alright, almost wholey reserved for Jack. Perhaps once he'd used it on Rose. In any event the entirety of the situation felt both familiar and almost normal; and if the Doctor hadn't figured out by now what to expect from the Cajun, he never would.

The Doctor's lip curled a little as the cjun called him stupid and faulted him for not mentioning that he was in pain. Well, when exactly was he supposed to do that? When they were carrying people to the hospital? Or when he was trying to get into the Carnival to see if anyone had been unfortunately trapped there? Or,perhaps he could have mentioned it on their way down the stairs? No, not going to happen. The Doctor was good at pain management. In fact, he was good at all physical management. It was an acquired skill.

The Doctor followed Gambit to the alcove, and when the Cajun commanded 'rest' the Doctor almost let go a sigh of relief. "Thank you," he said quietly, taking the man's jacket and stuffing it between he and the wall as he leaned back against it, a lumbar support of sorts.

"How's that shoulder of yours doing?" The Doctor winced a little, shifting. He was hoping it was better than his back.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-12 11:49 am UTC (link)
When scolded, the Cajun couldn't help his curling grin and he shrugged his good shoulder up, but would continue on their trek unhindered. It was only once they were settling down, and the Doctor was (thankfully) taking the offered coat and using it to his advantage, that the red-head let out his own little groan of pleasure, turning his head to the side when the integrity of his shoulder came into question. "Better 'den your back, I t'ink, mon ami. It hur', but I coul' go on for hours. Days. Weeks. Mon'hs." He paused then, rethinking that, before flashing another easy-going grin towards his traveling companion. "Non. It hur's. I need 'dis res' too. I t'ink I need a slin'." A sling would definitely help with the pain, but the best thing he had was the pocket of his jacket, and it seemed to be doing alright for the time. Better than just letting it hang there, anyway.

"You know, si vous avez voulu, I coul' ligh' up 'dis en'ire place like a bul', so we can see down 'de halls real far." He could make the walls glow. The only problem was.. "But if anyone in here, 'dey gon' see it. 'Dey gon' know we here." Because, the pair were being rather quiet, so it was likely that if someone else was here, they hadn't noticed them yet. But.. "An' if any 'dose trap doors open, 'dey gon' let out 'de ligh' like a beam." He made a gesture with his hand, using the boot, as if to demonstrate what it would do. He failed, of course. But the Doctor had a good imagination and he could figure it out for himself. A glowing tunnel entrance in the middle of a pitch-black night.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-12 01:47 pm UTC (link)
Remy stretched out beside him and the Doctor didn't feel quite so bad about needing to take a rest. The Cajun then mentioned needing a sling, a proper sling he imagined and the Doctor's mind set to work. He knew the material of his suit wouldn't tie well, or he'd offer his suit coat. He was quite certain the Cajun wouldn't want his under shirt, either.

"I'd imagine they already are quite aware we are here," it wasn't paranoia so much as realism. The Doctor felt that they were constantly and consistently watched by someone or something and that the tunnels did nothing to shield whatever methods it was they used. He wasn't so worried about the person living in the tunnels so much as the puppeteer who watched them like ants in a farm.

The Doctor was more concerned as it turned out to the people above's reaction to the tunnels. He had a distinct impression they would not be very happy about them.

"We should wait to do something like that, I don't know if the people outside could deal well with any more surprises today," as it was, he was sure, so many of them were already at their breaking point.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-12 02:12 pm UTC (link)
No. The Doctor could keep his undershirt. The Cajun, though, was entertaining the idea of using his own tank-top. If he tore it and tied it together, he could fashion a sort of sling. But right now, he was sure he couldn't actually take it off, tie it, straighten it, test it out, and put it on properly. It'd take too much movement of the arm, and it wasn't worth it, for him. He'd let a doctor deal with it, in the morning.

"Alrigh', we wait." He was glad the Doctor had suggested they wait. Holding a charge like that was very draining on him. It was a small object, so he could probably go for a few hours, easy, before he began complaining about being tired. But in the state he was in, it was just one of a few more things to pile up. "Merde. Wish we ha' car's.." He admitted, lifting the boot again and narrowing his eyes just some, the soft glow turning into a much brighter one, flames of energy (not heat, and the Doctor could certainly tell the difference) licking up from it like it was a log in a fireplace, stretching a few inches high, waving with the movement of the air around them, before Gambit leaned more firmly into the wall and the flames dissipated, leaving just the soft glow again.

"Docteur.." He turned his head then to look over at the other man. "Wha' make you so alien, anyway? You look human. Asi'e from 'de hearin', an' 'de.. you know, alien know'age? An' 'de agin' t'in'." Could he.. fly? Or.. melt things with his mind? What made him so special? What made him not human?

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-12 07:08 pm UTC (link)
Cards. Cards. Cards. Where had he heard about cards before? That's right, a few days ago someone was talking about a card game. Maybe the Cajun could go steal ask for the cards. It was intriguing to the Doctor to watch Gambit work his power, even on something as mundane as a boot. While the Doctor might be able to control the flow of energy within his own body; to have that sort ability seemed incredibly interesting to the Time Lord.

When Gambit agreed that they wait the Doctor nodded, running a hand back through his hair and he let his eyes slip closed a few moments.

"Alien?" His eyes flickered open. "Two hearts. Respiratory bi-pass. Being born on a planet other than earth..." That about summed it up.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-12 07:18 pm UTC (link)
When the Doctor announced what made him so different, Gambit's eyebrows went up. Two hearts? Now that was interesting. He had no idea what a respiratory bi-pass was, but that didn't sound nearly as impressive as two hearts. And, well, being born on a planet other than Earth was a given, so.. the Cajun shook his head some then leaned it back against the wall, a smirk coming over his face. He needed a shave, too. He was going to start growing a bit of a beard soon. But right now? Stubble was fine. Women went crazy over it. But give him two weeks, and he'd have a beard, and that was definitely not attractive. Scruffy men were attractive, bears were not. That thought made him laugh some, but then he focused his attention on the Doctor again.

"'Das it, homme? You ain' a very impressive alien. Aside from 'de time trav'l t'in', an' 'de livin' a lon' time. No laser vision? No.. ten'cles? Unbeliev'ble. 'De firs' alien I meet, an' he ain' even got laser vision. Wha' uh let down." He was clearly joking, though, smiling a sweet-as-sugar smile over at the Doctor, as he waggled his boot and the flames licked up again. And in that instant, his eyes glowed some in the dark, but when the flames vanished, so did the glow from his eyes. "Take a nap, non? I wake you up in half hour. 'Den we get goin' again." If the Doctor decided he wanted that nap, Remy would likely put out the glowing boot, to save its life.. at least for a while.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-12 07:44 pm UTC (link)
Gambit's brows rose. Though, the Doctor had a feeling he'd been looking for something much more strange. Perhaps Gambit would get more of a kick out of the Sycorax. Or, perhaps, the Sontarans. Those were probably more the sort of aliens that Gambit's comics envisioned. Comic books, always trying to make things either more or less fantastic than they actually are.

The Doctor rolled his eyes, a smug sort of grin hanging around. "I think you've been reading too many comics." Pushing his shoulders backward, the Doctor tried to stretch his muscles more.

"Nap? No, better to stay awake now than not be able to sleep well later." The Time Lord wiggled his toes. "So what does that trick of yours feel like? Tingly? Burney? Tickly?" Leave it to the Time Lord to want to know about the physical feeling.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-12 08:16 pm UTC (link)
When the Doctor accused him of reading too many comics, the grin that spread out over his face was a dead give away that.. yes, the Doctor was right. Gambit liked his comics. "Don' knock comics, Docteur. 'Dey educa'ional." He shook the boot at him again, before finally lowering it to let it rest on the ground, though his fingers remained curled around it.

However, when that question came, it gave the mutant pause and his smile lowered, disappearing all together as he considered that. No one had ever asked him that question before, and he was trying to find a way to.. describe it. "Non, none of 'dose." Assured as he rocked forward, then leaned back into the wall again to get comfortable. The concrete on his skin and against his shoulder wasn't comfortable, but it certainly wasn't the worst he'd ever had to experience.

"Is.. warm, kin'a. Not in 'de lit'ral sense, 'dough. Not a hea'." He breathed in through his nose. "Is like.. havin' 'dis warm feelin' flowin' into you. Like when you drink whiskey, or sake?" The fact that he could pronounce 'sake' correctly, with his accent, defined all logic. The Cajun, along with French, apparently could speak Japanese. Not bad for having never attended school eh? "An' 'den.. 'de warm feelin' fa'es, goes into 'de objec', bu'.." He was clearly having trouble describing it, and finally looked aside at the Doctor again. "You ever feel like you got comple'e contr'l over somet'in'? Like all you gotta do is snap your fing'rs, an' you gon' get wha'ever it was you wan'ed? Feels like 'dat. Feels pow'rful. God amon' insec's, oui?" That had him smiling again, lips curling up to reveal white teeth in the dark. Strange, strange Cajun.

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