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Remy LeBeau (ace_of_clubs) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,

Gambit let out a breath when Other Jack started talking.. but he turned his head over to look at the man, lifting his eyebrows lazily. Until he saw the water. The mutant was pushing himself to sit up then, wincing a bit as he did. "Non." This was not going to happen to him. No way. He had no interest in being drown. Slowly, he pushed up to his feet, shrugging his ruined jacket off his back (there was a large burned oval in it, about two feet tall, and a foot wide, where it'd been ruined earlier today) and rolling his shoulder. He left behind a blood smear on the ground where he'd been laying, thanks to the gash in his shoulder from the wood (also from earlier today). The coat was left behind on the ground, leaving him just in his charred black tank-top, and Gambit moved smoothly from his side of the room, to the other side of the room where the crack was allowing the water in.

He moved past Other Jack without a glance at him, but was kneeling down in front of that wall, knees of his jeans soaking in the water as he leaned in to inspect the crack. That wasn't good.

"Merde." He pressed his hand over it to see if it would stem the flow, but the water just seeped out from under his palm. Another soft curse followed, and he was tugging off his tank-top (there you go, Proper Jack, and you could enjoy it too, George, no one would fault you) and pushing the tank-top up against the crack to try and stop the water. And it worked, for about thirty seconds, before the cloth just started getting wet.

"Non, don' t'ink 'dat shoul' be happenin', ami." He turned some, keeping his tank-top pressed there, and looked back over at Logan for a few long seconds, before he looked at the Doctor.