InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Tweak don't twerk."

Remy LeBeau (ace_of_clubs) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-07-11 00:08:00

Entry tags:

!dropped, day 15, dean winchester, remy lebeau

Who: Remy LeBeau And Dean Winchester
What: Food. Remy's starving. And he gets dramatic. No, really.
Where: The Clocktower, then the House
When: 12:00AM
Rating: Let's say R. For language.
Status: Dropped

It was like the arctic tundra outside! It was snowing, there was a blizzard, frozen people laying all around, it looked like the top of Mount Everest! Couldn't find your way to the clock tower through the blinding white-out? Well, just make a right hand turn at the frozen corpse-ciccle there, with the green boots on. Yeah, turn right there and take that path through the arctic wilderness to get to the clock tower. Oh, what's that? A polar bear? Don't worry about it! Maybe he'll eat the corpse-ciccle. Oh, God, there were penguins! And look! National Geographic camera men. It was another ice age! He could feel the stampede of wooly mammoths creeping up on him. He expected to be eaten by a saber-tooth cat at any moment, or maybe captured by cave men who were going to keep him as a trophy because of his lovely hair. Those cave-man bastards.

That was it. He wasn't going to make it all the way to the clock tower. He could see it there, clearly in the darkness, with the bright moonlight overhead. But he'd have to get through that huge mound of snow, first. He'd never make it. He was just going to curl up and die here. Others could use his frozen corpse as a marker now. 'Hey', they'd say, 'If you need to get to the clock tower, turn right at the guy with the green boots, and just go straight on by that hot, smoldering, sexy red-headed Cajun frozen in the ice not far from the clock tower, he didn't make it. Pussy.' That was what they'd say. And it was that thought that made the hot, smoldering, sexy red-headed Cajun push onward. He had to make it to the clock tower, no matter the frostbite in his fingers and his toes. His nose had rotted off long ago and there were ice ciccles in his hair, but he to push on!

Finally! Finally, he arrived at the clock tower with panting breaths. And there was Dean! But he was frozen! Gambit was too late!

"M' freezin' my ass off, homme." The Louisianan complained with a slow drawl, pushing his partially gloved hands deeper into his pockets. It was only forty-seven degrees outside and there was no snow.. but it didn't matter. It felt like an arctic tundra.

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hellsboy
2009-07-11 04:36 am UTC (link)

The weather was schizophrenic, intelligent at worst. It knew when you were trying to do something important and screwed you like a stupid whore. Dean wasn't accustomed to being in such ridiculous weather even after so many days of being in this horrible place. The only thing the snow did was make him think of Lexie, probably warm and sleeping now in the gym. She was so pretty and even more so when asleep. He hated leaving her but he'd tried to get the fucking food for days now. He wasn't giving up now.

Cutting across everything to the Thrift Shop, he'd grabbed the neon pink hoodie and hamburger lined coat he'd left there during the warmer days. He needed them again and it felt like everything had come full circle since he'd left the House the last time. Except this time he'd be going out there with someone else. Someone he wasn't sure he trusted to take the whole fucking thing seriously. Whatever. It had to be done and he could easily bop the jerk over the head if he had to, right?

The clock tower loomed above him as he stopped at the meeting point. He could hear the whining voice stating it was freezing its ass off. "Good. Freeze your dick off and I'll have less to worry about tonight," he called out with a snicker of amusement. Last thing he needed was some red-eyed demon continually flirting with him while he tried to do something good for the rest of the captive souls here in the glass bubble.

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ace_of_clubs
2009-07-11 04:50 am UTC (link)

"Ain' gon' freeze m'dick off, homme. Go' 'dat all special warm up, tube socks goo' f' somet'in', non?" The grin that the Cajun flashed Dean was absolutely lewd, but he was shaking his head some and pushing his hands further into his coat. He was only joking, of course, but that didn't mean he couldn't sound very serious. The grin, though.. the grin sort of gave it away. Okay, more than sort of.

"C'mon, wanna ge' back soon as I can, gotta warm be' an' a nice warm body wanna be sleepin' nex' to." He laughed some and shrugged his shoulders up. He was wearing that Royal Air Force coat. Jack's coat. It was warmer than his old one, and made him look a little taller.. he liked it. The lapels and collar stood high when he lifted them up to try and get a little more coverage. Then he was sniffing and turning to face Dean again, waiting for the other man to lead the way.. because the Cajun had no clue where this place was. It was a good thing, or he would have taken and hidden all that food.

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hellsboy
2009-07-11 04:57 am UTC (link)

Dean wrinkled his nose with a bit of an annoyed glint in his eye. Was this dude serious? Was it really all about fucking teasing and flirting? How was he going to make it through the whole back and forth from the house when this knuckle head could only think of his fucking libido and trying to get Dean to blush or whatever it was he was after. "Yeah okay because we don't want you to never be able to procreate," he grumbled and looked up at the moon for a long moment, trying to collect his thoughts.

Was he really going to go through with this with the fop tagging along? Guy might be strong enough and motivated enough but could Dean stomach the hours with him? In the end all he could do was decide the greater good of everyone here was the point of the mission and putting up with this prissy princess was a small price to pay for making it easier here for everyone.

"Right, warm body," he conceded, thinking again of Lexie. "Let's get the fuck on the road." He turned on the heel of one boot and started toward the forest near the edge of the gym. The trip wasn't going to be a long one unless the Cajun kept trying to fuck with him. Then Dean might lead them in a few circles. Either way they'd make it to the House before daybreak.

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ace_of_clubs
2009-07-11 05:15 am UTC (link)

Dean was in luck. Once they started out, the Cajun fell relatively quiet. It was too cold for him to continue his bitching. But don't worry, it'd start back up again once they were in the warmer temperatures of the house. He stomped along in his heavy boots behind the older man as they walked, until he saw the house and his pace sped up a little. Shelter! Thank God! The Polar Bears wouldn't get them there.

The red-head assured that he got inside that building first and let out a little shiver, shaking his head and his shoulders some. It was dark inside and he very nearly tugged a playing card from his pocket (he'd found a set in the newly-restored thrift store) and lit it up. But he thought better of it, he didn't need to let Dean onto his little secret or the other might start screaming about demons again. They didn't need that right now.

They needed steak right now. Steak, and beans, and potatoes. Yes, that was what they needed. "Where to?" He prompted, stomping his feet once or twice to knock the cold out of his toes.

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hellsboy
2009-07-11 05:30 am UTC (link)

Dean had never screamed about demons in his life. That didn't stop him from distrusting Gambit or thinking him a red-eyed version of the yellow-eyed demon who had supposedly killed his father, according to Sam. It wasn't that he had a problem with the guy either - other than the fucking flirting. Just didn't care for demons and even though they all had been tossed into the mix together here, he wasn't ever going to like them. No sympathy for the devil where Dean Winchester was concerned.

He was a little unhappy with leaving Sam behind to go ahead with this guy. But it had made sense that he let Sam stay with Shannon, oh that stupid line again?! and then just bring the food back to distribute to everyone. He'd already decided to hold back a large can of peaches for Lexie so this had to be done. He followed the Cajun into the house and sighed once more to be in the midst of such a large, interesting place with so much food waiting for them.

Dean glanced around the entry hall and stomped his own feet to rid them of his own coldness. "The food pantry is to the right off the kitchen. There are a few dozen cans in there. You think you're going to want to eat and rest first before going back?" Dean knew he was going to but he wondered what the demon would decide. Seemed like the dude would be of a like mind after the cake incident but he didn't know. Didn't really care, actually. So he was wandering off into the next room, the kitchen, before the guy answered.

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ace_of_clubs
2009-07-11 08:39 am UTC (link)

"Oui." Was his simple answer as he followed the other into the kitchen. Oh, man, he was freezing. This just wasn't right. It was so warm the other day! He was going to get this damn food, eat some, sit around until his extremities regained their feeling. Only then would he take his bounty and head back into the frigid is plains of the arctic tundra, braving the polar bears and cheetahs and saber tooth ducks and.. whatever else was out there. He'd have to protect his food against them. Maybe they'd eat Dean instead, and leave the spicy tasting Cajun and his cans of food alone. The thought made him break out into a grin.

"You brin' anyt'in' t'ligh' 'de place up, homme?" Gambit asked slowly as he shuffled into the kitchen, eyes straining to look around the dark room. Pantry.. pantry.. he turned right just inside that door and moved his hands out to tug open said pantry. But it was no use, he couldn't really see anything inside it that well. Well, at least he'd come prepared. He was reaching into his pockets and tugging out two pillow cases. And it was in that moment that he decided he should have worn his duplicate of the Doctor's jacket... it was bigger on the inside. It would have fit more bags. Tough luck, Remy. But the thought of the Doctor bitching later did bring a smile to his face. It was worth it.

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hellsboy
2009-07-11 07:44 pm UTC (link)

"Nah, I figured we could wander around in the dark. I thought everyone could see in the dark, man," he teased and grinned in the darkness. He knew this place fairly well and could move around in the dark but that wasn't going to help in the long run, especially for this guy who was standing around shivering like he'd never had to deal with the cold before.

He rolled his eyes and reached into his pocket for one of the disposable Bic lighters that had been in the gas station. With a flick of his thumb the lighter ignited and a tiny orange flicker lit up Dean's face from below as though he had a flashlight at a campfire while telling ghost stories. "Boo!" he said and chuckled before turning away to shine the light around the room they were in briefly.

He slung down his backpack then and let the light go out as he rummaged inside its large pouch for the roll of paper towels he'd brought. The hole in the roll fit snuggly over the post of one of the metal bar chairs strewn near the butcher block island in the center of the kitchen. With the lighter he lit the roll and smiled as the entire kitchen and pantry were flooded with flickering orange-gold light. "Better?"

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ace_of_clubs
2009-07-11 08:05 pm UTC (link)

"Oui." He agreed with a grin, eyes turning over onto the paper towel roll to watch it burn. "Ain' gon' las' lon' 'dough, homme." He warned, tugging open the pantry as he did. Cold gloved fingers dug around inside, coming up with a jug of cooking oil. He shook it up then headed over to the sink, which was thankfully metal, and he pushed the head out of the way and plugged it up, before pouring some of the cooking oil in there, then setting the jug aside so they could keep refilling it, if they needed to. Then he was going for a cabinet door, grabbing hold and giving a good, hard jerk so he could tear it straight off its hinges. Once he had it down, he was bracing it up with one hand, putting the other end on the floor, and he stomped a booted foot down onto it good and hard, splintering the wood apart. A few more stomps like that and he was able to snap a good deal of it into manageable pieces, and dropped them unceremoniously into the sink with an inch of cooking oil in it.

One of those pieces of wood was picked up and he held it over the glowing paper towel roll, catching the flames until the wood began to burn, then he was setting it in the sink, the cooking oil instantly catching on fire and burning bright, like a bon fire. It lasted just long enough to start the wood burning. The red-head then took a moment to tear off another door and stomp that into pieces as well, so they could keep feeding the fire, if they planned to stay. As an after thought, he pulled down the moth-eaten curtains on the window near the sink and dropped them atop the fire to burn there, so that there wasn't anything near that could catch on fire.

"'Dere we go," With that said, he was tugging the chair and the still-burning paper towel roll closer to the pantry to use it for light as he began to sift through, moaning some when he was able to read the labels of the food. Real food! He tossed a pillow case at Dean, then began putting things into his own pillow case, though he set aside something every now and then, something that he planned to eat before they left the house.

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hellsboy
2009-07-12 04:38 am UTC (link)

Dean raised his brows. He was about to say, "Duh," to the Cajun's protestation that the paper towel roll wouldn't last long when the other guy went on a mini-rampage. Breaking up parts of the kitchen and filling the sink with cooking oil. Dean wasn't sure what the dude was doing until he saw what the guy was really doing.

"Uh yeah, I had a few more rolls or paper towels," he said with a tone of annoyance in his voice. It hadn't been his intention to destroy the place in order to have light. But then the red-eyed dude did think he was the smart one, didn't he? Dean was sure of that considering the situation he'd been tugged into with the bizarre woman because of Gambit. There had been no other way to settle the dispute except to drag in innocent bystanders and duke it out. He'd never understand guys like that.

With the pantry of food in plain sight, Dean moved forward, dumping the extra paper towel rolls onto the floor and reaching for the pillow case that the dude tossed to him. It was probably a good thing to have more than one sack to carry things in so he filled both the pillow case and the backpack, ensure the pack was carrying the peaches he intended to give to Lexie.

"How you planning on sleeping with that light burning in the sink?" he asked after he'd gathered enough for the first run back to town. "You think it's going out any time soon with all that shit you put in it to burn?"

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ace_of_clubs
2009-07-12 06:20 pm UTC (link)

"'De fire in uh sink, homme. When 'de oil burn down, gon' turn 'de wa'er on. Wa'er gon' pu' ou' 'de fire. Ain' you learn not'in' in school?" It was easily retorted with a smirk, as red eyes found the burning fuel in the sink again. Then with a nod, he turned to face Dean. "You can' sleep wit' uh fire goin'? You ain' never been campin'? Never been somewhere gotta keep some ligh' while you sleep?" The red-head prompted curiously, as he tugged his soon-full bag to the side and left it near the mouth of the kitchen. "You 'xplore 'dis place 'fore, homme?" Gambit asked as he stuck his head out of the kitchen to look into the darkness of the livingroom. With the light coming from behind him, he could swear that he could see shadows of doorways.

Maybe there was more food in there. Maybe there were real beds. Oh, he'd be stealing some sheets and extra pillows tonight, if that were the case. Anything to pad the little nest of couches that he'd made in the barn.

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hellsboy
2009-07-12 07:18 pm UTC (link)

"Great! Chemistry lessons. That would all be fine and dandy except I don't think the water works in this house, dude," Dean said half-distractedly. He was busy working a nail file around the lip of one of the cans seeing as none of them had a pull top and he hadn't been able to find the damned can opener someone said was floating around the bubble.

"I've been camping plenty of times. Generally the fires were in a stone pit and not created with cooking oil." The nail file slipped and Dean's thumb took the brunt with a large gash. He looked at the digit briefly as the skin turned from a shocked white to a bright, bloody red. "Fuck," he muttered and wrapped his thumb in one of the strips of cloth he'd thought to bring in case they needed bandaging for any reason. And they really would if this guy was going to start flirting again.

Dean glanced up to see the other man looking out of the kitchen toward the other rooms. He gave a half of a smile and went back to his can. He wanted the damned beans now!

"Yeah, the east wing. Don't bother wandering around until daylight, man. There are most likely ghosts or something and you can't take your sink fire with you." He was serious about the ghosts even if Gambit wouldn't believe. He'd been through a lot of the rooms in the east wing himself already and he'd felt them there. It's what he was trained to do.

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ace_of_clubs
2009-07-12 08:03 pm UTC (link)

When Dean mentioned that there was no water, Gambit frowned some and turned back to stare at the sink. "'Den we nap in 'de livin' room. Don' nee' t'sleep in 'de ki'chin wit' 'de ligh'." Right? Right. And when he heard Dean curse, he turned to watch him bandage up his thumb. "No can op'ner." He observed in a somewhat annoyed tone. Great. So how were they going to get the food out of those cans? With that nail file? He didn't like that idea.

However, when the other man mentioned ghosts, Gambit's eyebrows skyrocketed upwards. Ghosts? Now, one thing about the mutant.. he liked his comic books. He really did. Aliens. Conspiracies. Super heroes. Whole nine yards. And in many of those comics, there were ghosts, so he certainly believed.. but he wasn't going to admit it out loud. "Ghos's? Ain' no such t'in' as ghos's." He paused then, looking back out into the livingroom and at the other doors. "..Righ'?" Even if there were.. they couldn't hurt you. They were just ghosts. Right? Right. Remy let out a slow breath. Curiosity, ultimately, would win out.. but right now, it was hunger that overtook him, and he was glad for it. The ghosts could wait. And the Cajun was coming back over to snag up one of the tins of soup, looking it over closely. Well, he knew he could heat it over the fire in the sink, if there was a pot.. somewhere. Or, hell, even just straight in the can. In the can would work. But how did he get it open? He lowered the can again and looked back at Dean.

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hellsboy
2009-07-15 03:55 am UTC (link)

Dean ignored the other man and tossed the offending nail file onto the butcher's block with an annoyed grunt. Then, with both hands, he reached down to his ankle and pulled off the high-topped, thick soled boot he wore. It was caked in mud but that wasn't going to bother him now. Neither was the man's statement about no can opener which sounded somewhat ominous.

Picking up the file again, holding the boot in his other hand, Dean angled the metal file against the edge of the can and slammed the sole of his boot against the top of it. That made a solid dent straight through to the inside of the can. He glanced up at the red-eyed dude with a self-impressed smile. See what I did? it seemed to say. He continued doing this about ever half inch or so with loud clangs until he could work the nail underneath and pry the top away.

"Voila!" he said and grinned as he scooped beans into his mouth with his fore and middle fingers. He sighed happily and continued to munch beans as the other guy looked bemused and mulled over the mention of ghosts.

"Trust me, dude. They exist. They don't usually want nice things for people and get cranky if you try to tread on their territory so I wouldn't. Not til daybreak unless you're looking for adventure. And then by all means, have at it. I'm game too but don't say I didn't warn you." He was definitely up for a little romp through the areas he hadn't visited yet. But in the dark he wasn't interested in babysitting someone who might scare easily. If this guy was up for it though, Dean was more than ready to share beans and ghost stories.

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ace_of_clubs
2009-07-15 03:55 pm UTC (link)

Gambit watched, clearly impressed, as Dean began pounding away to get into the can of beans. Well now. That had been interesting. And he seemed so smug. The Cajun had half a mind to grab a tin of beans, charge it, and let it explode (the beans, of course, flying everywhere) but then decided that it wasn't worth the mess to show off to this guy.. besides, he would probably just start freaking out about the fact that Remy could make things explode, anyway. After all, that fact made him very, very dangerous. However, the darkness of the livingroom was calling him again and he leaned to stick his back out and stare towards the doors. There was fear, of course, that the ghosts would get him but.. ghosts were just ghosts. They couldn't do anything but scare you. They couldn't hurt you. So after a moment, he was turning around to face Dean again with a brilliant smile.

"Oui, le's go." But he didn't mean right now. No way. First, he wanted some food. He made his way back over to where he'd left a can of soup sitting there on the counter, and he looked back over at the fire. He didn't know about Dean, but he wanted his meal warm, now that he had food, he was going to be picky about it. He wanted it to taste good. And sitting it on the edge of the metal sink would get it warm relatively quickly. He just had to open the top first.

Where the Hell was Wolverine when you needed him?

"Pass 'dat t'in' over, homme." He was saying of the nail file, of course, coming a few steps over to Dean and setting his can down on the table. He had every intention of repeating the other man's actions. It was, after all, brilliant. And he couldn't think of anything better without digging through those pantries.

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