14917/Throwin' Cards at Fate

Throwin' Cards at Fate
Date of Scene:	13 May 2023
Location:	X-Lounge
Synopsis:	Remy and Rogue catch up. There's Oscars, booze, pretzels, a melon with a smiley face, and a card in her boobs. So, about what you'd expect.
Cast of Characters:	Remy LeBeau, Rogue

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Remy LeBeau has posed:
It is suspension of disbelief that we say people come down to the X-Men lounge because almost nobody ever comes down here. They can't have sex down here and that's ninety percent of the reason anyone goes to this school.

Remy, on the other hand, does come down to the lounge. Sitting on a couch facing a table where a Water-Melon is set up across the room in a football stand. He's wearing a t-shirt, one of the kind you get at a convenience store in the ghetto, and a pair of sweat pants. With his shaggy brown hair still damp from a shower after working out.

And he's holding a deck of cards. Shuffling one up between his index and ring finger, he flicks his wrist to send it twirling through the air to slice into the rinde of the melon. Vertical, parallel to another a few inches. A grin curls the corner of his stubbled jaw with another card sliding up between his fingers.

Rogue has posed:
Point of Fact! The X-Lounge is a popular place post-missions. It's one of the few places on the grounds that is fully stocked with liquor being that it's located in the North Hall of the X-Men Base, the North Hall being one of the halls that students are NOT allowed in. This place is a reprieve from teenagers, for the most part!

The door to the lounge opens up, and Rogue strides in, then stops when she sees Gambit here. Dressed in her X-uniform of green and gold, though she has it rolled down to her waist, with a dark green tanktop covering her upper body, and her jacket hanging under her right arm, she stops... she looks to him, then to his melon. She eyes the cards, and then looks back to him.

"So this is what ya do for fun." She states as she moves in to the room further now, her jacket set on the countertop in the small kitchen area. "At least cut it up and serve some'a it afterward, would ya?" She chides the man with the dark mysterious eyes.

Remy LeBeau has posed:
Red on black eyes turn up to Rogue when she makes her way into the lounge and grins at her. The card whirls out from his fingers with another flick of his wrist and connects with the melon at an angle down from one of the two vertical cards already stabbed into the side of the standing fruit. "Oi, of course I cut it up afterwards. Gonna put it in a color an' cover it wit a bunch of liquor, den hide it under the bar for a week..."

Another card hurls across the room, flick-flipping his wrist so the card bends when it strikes the melon in a curved line from the other angled card he'd thrown just before. "I don't know dis is fun, but it is distractin', ses pa? Like playing video games without needin' to see in sixty something frames per second... or pretend I like all da bullshit they put in dem games these days."

His eyes flick up and down her costume, "You training or been out on mission?"

Rogue has posed:
While Remy talks, Rogue is at the kitchen now with her back to him, her suit rumpled up around her waistline over the leather belt that she wears around said waist. She pulls out a bottle of liquor and uncaps it with a twist of glass on glass. She pours herself some of the sweet whiskey in to a cup, then turns around to lean back against the counter, and summarily eye him with her green pupiled eyes surrounded by black eyeliner. One arm crosses over her stomach as the other holds her whiskey glass up in front of her shoulder.

"Oh, what you're doin' now is way better than video games. At least you can do this an' impress people. Video games are never impressive skills acquired. They're just endless hours of wasted time." She says with a sweet little smile. It's true, she's an 'outdoorsy girl' and never liked video games.

Her chin lifts up a little as she draws in a breath through her pert little nose. "Trainin'. Between the Savage Lands shit, an' Logan gettin' captured... and my first year as a teacher wrappin' up soon... there's just an endless amounta shit goin' on... Helps keep my mind off'a some'a it, I guess... if I punch robots in the Danger Chamber."

Remy LeBeau has posed:
"Uh huh." Remy flicks another card, this one he throws like he's mad at it. A little umph behind the flick of his wrist so when it hits there's a thunk and another curve along the surface of the colored side of the card. Finishing the smiley face he was drawing with the projectiles. The rest of the deck is shuffled one handedly. Stretching his foot out to rest his bare foot on the top of the table while his arm extends across the cushions out to his right.

Lazily turning to peer at Rogue leaning on the bar.

"Da old man got captured? I didn't tink anyone could do dat.. Is he gettin' sloppy in his old age or dey just some really 'fuck life' powerful people?" The cards split, rotate out with the bottom deck shuffling up to slide beneath them with dexterous fingers working on auto-pilot.

Right hand finger wiggles, "Oh, I hear about dat. Some'ting wit bugs, non? See, everybody tink I don't pay attention, but ol Remy always got his nose to da ground sniffin' out da weird shit goin on." A self congratulatory grin on his stubbled face. One eye squinting at her.

"When dey let me teach a class?"

Rogue has posed:
Rogue enjoys a bit more of her whiskey flavored in a sweet hue of butterscotch. She smirks at some of what she hears the Cajun say, and steps away from the bar toward the pool table. "Ninjas attack the school while I was in the Savage Lands. They crashed a helicopter inta the damn house. Completely obliterated Jean's room, and some'a Ororo's too." She explains to him.

Reaching out at the table to grab one of the pool balls she rolls it around on the smooth felt top. "I guess they grabbed Logan at the apex of the fight, made off with him while everyone was tryin' to keep our student body from becomin' a student corpse." She tells him as she rolls that ball against one of the table bumpers, bouncing it back in to her hand.

"As for teachin', ya gotta impress the Headmistress if ya want in. She's... well, ya know... she takes the stuff pretty serious. I didn't even think she'd let me do it until I got a degree in the damn field." She says while leaning up against the table against her right hip, her eyes going to the smiley face in the watermelon.

She just stares at it, and sips her drink again.

Remy LeBeau has posed:
"Sounds like ol Logan, oi." The Cajun says with a smirk and a short, clipped, nod. The cards shift again, then slide into the pocket of his sweat pants when he pushes up from the couch. Smooth and easy, making his way towards the bar himself to grab the bottle she'd just replaced to pour himself a tall glass. Which he tastes, smacking his lips annoyingly like he's critiquing the flavor. Another nod and a bigger swallow.

He turns, leans, and crosses his ankles with his elbows bracing against the bartop.

"I could teach a pretty good class on statistics.. dats all readin' cards is, anyways. Rapidly figurin' stastics mentally an' making inferences based on dat knowledge." The glass comes up for another swallow.

"Unless dey want to pay me to teach kids how to hotwire cars... da way tings are going, it'll be more useful a skillset den english literature." Extending his hand out to point a finger off the side of his glass, "Given all da dark ass futures we keep gettin' kids comin' back from."

Rogue has posed:
While he speaks, Rogue perches her butt on the corner of the table just on her right thigh side, her left foot still planted firmly on the ground. She averts her eyes from the melon he'd decorated with the cards to watch him walk across the room to get his own drink. It's a very sweet and tastey whiskey, like candy. It's a girl drink, as far as whiskey can get anyway.

She sips hers again before setting the glass down on her thigh again.

She smirks at him then, and shakes her head, her white bangs gently waving against her cheeks. "Ya don't gotta sell it t'me, Mistah." She tells the tall Cajun man across the room from her. "I'd have ya teach somethin' if I were in charge. But... if I were in charge, nobody would probably send their kids to this place." She states with a grin shown for him.

She upnods over at him then though. "Ya should come to the Savage Lands with us some time. Illyana has been providin' portals, so it's fairly easy t'get there and back again. It's a wild place. They got dinosaurs like ya wouldn't believe. All the ones from the movies an' more. It's totally crazy. I kinda love it... save for how much it keeps tryin' to kill me."

Remy LeBeau has posed:
Remy likes girly stuff as much as any slightly pressy man from New Orleans does.

He sips a bit more from his glass and sets it down behind him with a turn of his wrist and elbow, which settles back on the edge of the bar. A smirk, "I don't know, I come to dat school. You about da only reason I keep comin' to dis one." He points out with a tilt of his head and nod. "Most of deez kids are disrespectful shit heads. You know one of dem actually dislike all men, jus' for bein' men? How dat work? I aint done nothin' to nobody, but I get lumped in dere like I'm da devil."

He slowly shakes his head, lips pulling into a slightly disapproving expression.

"Twenty twenty tree am I right?"

The expression cracks and he's grinning, "Dere dinosaurs? Didn't we watch a movie where dat turned out pretty bad for da people went dere? Jurassic some'ting." The grin widens even further, nodding with a blink over his oddly colored eyes. "Sure, why not. Seem like a gas.. maybe I ride one of dem flyin' ones."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue listens to his inner thoughts about the current year and how the kids act. She smiles faintly at it and shakes her head. "It's just trends. Ten years from now and it'll swing back the other way. We'll have some new Arnold Schwarzenegger doin' big ol' masculin films again. So don't you worry one bit. Kids just always like t'do things that make adults raise their eyebrows, as if you didn't know that already. You're just slowly encroaching on bein' an adult yourself."

She teases him a little there at the end, takes another sip of her drink and then sits up straighter on the edge of the pool table. She puts her free hand over her stomach clad in that dark forest green tanktop.

"You might be more right than ya know, about it bein' bad for us. I got stabbed... an' died. If it weren't for Jean... an' her crazy ass mental abilities... I wouldn't even be here right now t'listen to your grumps about the fat kids upstairs. She put me back t'gether with her brain. How about that?"

"If not for that, ya might not'a had any reason left t'come here." She says with a warm smile sent his way.

Remy LeBeau has posed:
Remy snaps, though it's clear by his expression that whatever he's about to say isn't true, when Rogue says he almost had no reason to come back to the school. "I almost made good my escape." The expression, as mentioned, is one that does not lend itself very well to that particular brand of dark humor. His eyes hood, mouth cuts into a small frown.

"Thank god Jean is da most powerful thing since white bread."

He reaches back and drains the contents of the glass, swishing it around in his mouth before swallowing. "Dat sound like some grade A bullshit, is what it sound like. All dem powers only come round when you're in danger, you notice dat?" He perks a brow, "Everytime I see her do some'ting don't make no god damn sense, it's to save you." Pinky pointing at Rogue.

"I tink she likes you."

Rogue has posed:
The pool ball is sent rolling down the felt table as Remy responds to her. Rogue watches it bounce off the opposite bumper and come rolling back right in to her gloved hand's embrace. She lifts it up then, and turns it around to stare at the 8 painted on white on the otherwise black surface of the ball.

Her eyes regard the smooth surface of the ball itself, and her mind recalls something she heard Neil deGrasse Tyson say on Tik Tok the other day.

But it's Remy's words that draw her eyes back over to him, and she drops the ball in to the corner pocket beside her hip.

"Jean is always under a lotta stress. Not many people ever help her relieve that stress. Ever since she started helpin' me with my messed up mind stuff, I started findin' ways to help her unwind a bit. I think it's helped her a lot, I hope anyway. She's a hell of a woman, afterall. I like her too." She takes another sip of her drink glass, finishing the whiskey off as she slips off the table to walk toward the bar again.

"I like bein' there for people, ya know?" She says to him as she takes the bottle to top her glass off again. It's Saturday afterall.

Remy LeBeau has posed:
Something about the earth being as smooth as a sphere rather than grainy like a topography map since the significance of mountains is insignificant to the shape of the Earth.

Remy would enver admit to watching TikTok.

He inclines his head and leans back on his palms, "Sure. Lotta stress. Everyone under a lotta stress an' she.. well she don't open up to fuckin' nobody." Hoisting a hand to motion absently across the room. "Like pullin' teeth tryin' to talk to her half da time. It's good dat she got someone she talk to, but maybe she not so stressed if she talked to more people."

There he shrugs. "I aint no psychologist or no'ting."

He flicks his finger to slide his glass towards Rogue while she's topping them off. "Tinking maybe I come back around more. I took a vacation when I was between bein' me an' bein' me, only someone else."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue has her glass refilled, and is backing up to lean back in to the corner of the stone countertop. She's once more sipping from her glass as she stares at Remy while the subject remains on Jean. Not many in the school knew about Rogue and Jean as anything other than friends, though a lot of the X-Men were starting to get whiffs of it. Remy knew more than anyone about it though.

"Ya didn't seem t'have problems with her openin up in Vegas." She said back at him then before giving him a sweet smile and taking another sip of her drink.

She shakes her head softly side to side again as she lowers the glass once more. "I can't make sense of it. She will open up, if you're just there... and havin' fun with her. That's all I do. I just talk to, and listen to her... an' enjoy tryin' t'make her laugh. She's got a good laugh, ya know?"

Rogue reaches her foot out to tap the pointed yellow boot tip at his shin. "You are pretty funny when ya wanna be too." She reminds him.

Remy LeBeau has posed:
Remy sucks his teeth when Rogue tries to fire that across the bow, stubbled lips curling into a stubbled grin, "Wasn't me, was one of my lizard people doubles show up every few months when I'm on mental vacation." He murmurs, opting to grab the bottle himself and top off his own glass. "An' not even one of da good ones, either. Dat one has way too much confidence an' probably slept wit a shark lady or some'ting." Which, anyone who knows Remy knows, there is a snowballs chance in hell he'd every do.

Deathly afraid of them.

"Look, ya know I aint got no problem wit whatever." He's suggested it, if not specifically for himself because he doesn't get anything out of it. "So I aint mad... I'm just pointin' out da facts. Lets say... mm... let's say Warren gets stabbed wit a rebar or some'ting, oi? Ya tink ol mind voodoo Jean is gonna knit him back together wit her brain?" He's already shaking his head.

"I will eat my coat dat somehow keeps magically reappearin' every couple months."

Grinning around the lip of his drink, he swallows a mouth full and sets it back down. "No, Ms.. I'm funny all da time. Jus' OW..." Overly exagerating how hard she tapped his shin by lifting it up to rub a palm down the center, "Domestic abuse.. dats it, I'mma get you cancelled. You never going to host Oscars."

Rogue has posed:
There comes a little huff of a laugh at the man's words, along with a rolling of her eyes. she knows what he's saying may have some truth to it, but she ... is in denial about some of it? It's hard to say. She just shakes her head. "Look, I mean... it's dangerous for her to do that stuff. I wouldn't have even wanted her to have done it, if I had any say in it at the time. It could make her lose control'a that Phoenix stuff. The thing that could eat our whole sun, if it felt so inclined. I mean, Wonder Woman, Superman... what the hell could they do t'stop her from eatin our sun, if she was taken over by that ... whatever the fuck it is." It's true, Rogue didn't understand the Phoenix stuff at all. Hell up to a few years ago she only thought Phoenix was a place in Arizona.

She pushes her butt off of the counter to launch herself forward as she walks past Remy to the snacks cabinets then. She opens one of them up to peer inside it. "I don't wanna host the Oscars anyway. That whole thing'a givin' golden statues to rich people is cringe as cringe can get." She states while pulling out a bag of Pretzels.

Crunchy plastic noises. She pops the bag open.

She pops a pretzel in to her mouth and chews on it as she tips the bag toward him then.

"You're the one that taught me t'have fun and relax, ya know? Before you... I was a dramatic angsty teenager... focused on 'woe is me' shit. I mean, ya should've seen me back in my Goth days."

Remy LeBeau has posed:
Remy turns his palms up in a shrug, not really in a position to dispute what she's saying even if he were inclined to. "Which prove my point, I tink, but I 'spose dat aint really all dat important, grand scheme." The remnants of his glass are drained again, but left in his mouth for long enough to savour it before swallowing with only a slight shudder.

"You know I won one of dem in a card game once? An Oscar, I mean, not a bag of pretzels." Though he's probably won plenty of pretzels. "I pawned it to buy a new coat a few month back." Another grin, this one subtle, half his mouth curled as he peers around the lounge languidly.

"I try to be life of da party. It just feel like it getting old, ses pa? Especially wit-" He wiggle points upwards at the mansion, "Dem shit heads up dere. Not all of dem, just enough dat I wonder what da point is. If I want to get flamed for waking up, I stay in Noah Lah.. At least dere I know why everbody out ta get me."

He pushes off the bar and dips his fingers into the open bag of pretzels to grip one between two fingers, spins on his heel, and flicks his wrist. His cheeks puff, lips pull inward, and the pretzel cuts through the air towards teh melon. It strikes between the curved card lips and the two vertical card eyes, burrowing in the rinde to give it a little brown nsoe.

"Lemme know when you go to Savage Lands next time. I book a ticket back here to join. Even pull out da old costume..." Hand on his abdomen, couple steps taken backwards, "Hopefully it still fit."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue is nibbling on one of the pretzels when he elects to throw his. It causes her to look over at the aftermath, and she sees it seemingly right where he wanted to put it. She just keeps nibbling on the salty treat in her hand, mulling over what he'd just done, and what he'd said before and after doing it.

Her green eyes sweep back over to him, down to his stomach, and then back up to his face. She lowers the pretzel from her lips. "Ya eat about as much as a crackhead, so I think it'll still fit ya, Mistah LeBeau." She says in a sultry teasing sort of way, the style she's come to use on him often.

Her right hand reaches out to pat him on the stomach too.

"An' be thankful I got people willin' t'risk their lives t'keep me around. Otherwise who would ya drive as crazy as ya drive me?" She asks before she goes to gather up her drink glass off the counter, headed for the leather sofa area now.

Remy LeBeau has posed:
"I miss my calling as a Crackhead, clearly."

Whatever he is, Remy has pretty impeccable aim when throwing shit from his fingers. It's a very specific talent, perhaps. Some might even say useless until they see him hurling cards on the battlefield. With a smirk, he hoists a hand and motions up at Rogue, flipping a card off the deck in his pocket to hold it to run his tongue across the back and stick it to his forehead.

Jack of Clubs sitting up-right.

Both hands point at it, as if he knows what the card is.

"So long dere a Rogue, dere a Remy."

Two fingers grip the corner and flick with the card dancing in a twirl across the room to skim over the surface of the table, bounce up, and slip right between her breasts. "Can't let people tink I'm going soft, though."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue had sat down on the sofa, reached for the remote, and was using its touch screen interface to bring up a whole host of streaming internet content when the card had found its way to the low scooped neckline of her tanktop. She had her eyes on the screen when she felt it just end up there between the swells of her breasts, nestled in to the exposed cleavage poking out of the top of her tanktop.

It quickly caused the Belle to look down to find the card, where she reached up and in to grab its corner to pull it out. She looked at its face, then over her shoulder before her hand pushes a button on the touch screen remote.

"Gonna watch my favorite Louisianan's podcast!" She says back at him.

And within moments Theo Von's voice starts to pipe through the X-Lounge's tv speakers.