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Post by Nomz on Sept 3, 2024 0:04:32 GMT
Ice clinks in his glass, dancing in the deep amber liquor as he settles his drink back down on its little neat, black napkin. This close to the stage, he can feel the vibration of the music in his chest and close his eyes. It's so much easier to lose himself when he doesn't have to see anything. Remy shifts his shoulders under his coat, thankful he had packed something a little better than his average outfits. Skull's Rainbow Room is almost as notorious in the South as Gambit was with the ladies in New Orleans. That thought curls his mouth with a tired smile and he hums in amusement. Under the notes of the music is the murmur of the crowd all around him. Every chair at every table is filled except for the one across from him. Remy had paid extra to ensure the seat remained empty despite the number of people lining the bartop, waiting for a place to sit down. He slouches in his seat, long legs kicked out under the table and surrounding the empty chair. If anyone tried to sit down while his eyes were closed, he would feel it. Remy lifts his whiskey to his lips again for a slow, long sip. |
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Post by Countess on Sept 4, 2024 1:58:47 GMT
Desiree Allard was well and truly done with this client consultation. It had only take half the day, but musicians in a rut seldom are fun to work with. In all honesty, they had just had her sitting in the room, catching up on emails rather than have her opinion and expertise. It had rubbed her the wrong way, and quietly had blacklisted them after that. Nothing like feeling like furniture to make her feel like a real girl. Moments like these remind her well how thick the line is between Human and Mutant. No one had wanted to touch her, or really speak with her, as if the X gene were a touch contagious.
But damn do their producers pay well. A little bit more to squirrel away for herself. Not like she is hurting for money, since the one and only Tony Stark had decided to put her on his payroll. She is charging him an arm and a leg, something he is all too willing to pay given his life is on the line. Funny what one is willing to give up when Death is breathing down their neck. She paid her due before, after all, and is no stranger to desperation.
Des makes a slight noise of exasperation. Her flight doesn't leave until the morning, but she knows she could call her new light to get home much... much faster. She wonders if he would send a jet this time... or maybe something a bit more exotic...
Where she walks, the music just... improves. Everyone improves. She hadn't even used much of her ability today on those philistines, but they were pleased enough. She steps into the Skull's Rainbow Room, and the party just... lifts. Some are wise enough to know it is her, but most don't notice at all. Des isn't looking for attention right now, she is just looking for a drink and a good time. Shame all the seats are taken... all but one. Well, considering the man sitting there looks like a tall drink of something dangerous from behind, she is sure she can weasel her way into that seat. If she doesn't like him, well, she can always make him leave, too. Des lets more power leak from her, drawing eyes. She is putting pressure on the room, the kind that makes them like her. Want to make her happy. Want to agree with her. It is subtle, enough so she got away with it more than she should have at Xavier's.
Without asking, she slides into the empty seat, taking off her sunglasses, a line on the tip of her tongue about strangers and whiskey, bad decisions and car keys-
"R-Remy?"
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Post by Nomz on Sept 4, 2024 2:33:17 GMT
He feels the chair across from him move as a clear sign of someone slipping into the seat. Remy lifts his head, opening his eyes with a line about how the seat is taken when he hears his name from her surprised lips. It takes a moment for his eyes to focus and disbelief twists his mouth into a smirk.
"Well, I'll be. If it ain't Desiree," his voice sounds like taking a dip in a hot bath after a long day. He hasn't removed his feet from where they box in her chair nor has it come out of his slouch. Remy looks very much like the king of his castle as he takes another sip of his whiskey. "To wha do I owe the pleasa of yer company, hm? Ya spot ol' Remy from tha street and 'cide to come visit, chérie?"
Remy glances over as much of her outfit as he can, deciding that she looks mighty fine in it.
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Post by Countess on Sept 4, 2024 2:51:27 GMT
Des feels like she is a twelve year old girl again with an obsessive crush on a much older boy than her. All the giddiness, all the awkwardness, all the cringe comes roaring back. All she can do is giggle and at the absurdity of this, hands going to her hair to smooth it out. God, of all the people, of course it is Remy.
But now she needs to keep him talking. He finished a few moments ago. Damn- he looked her up and down and just-
"...." she still cannot summon the words. Her face starts to get a little red. "N-no, I just- the only- this seat is empty," Des says, pointing down at the seat, then motioning to the rest of the bar. "I hadn't known you... I don't..."
Des has decided death could not come faster. She clears her throat. She can fix this. Right? She is powerful, beautiful, modeled herself after Emma Frost in all her bad assness-
.... but some people just pull that awkward, terrible side out of her. Remy is one of the few. How she pined after this man. She is in over her head. This is about to be a train wreck. She cannot get her legs to function the way they should.
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Post by Nomz on Sept 4, 2024 3:21:53 GMT
The longer it takes for Des to respond to him, the more that little smirk he wears broadens. Remy leans forward, propping his elbow up on the table and resting his face in his palm. To the outside observer, he would look completely enraptured by the woman across from him.
"Desiree," he calls softly across the table to her, eyes settling into a gentle little smolder. Oh, it's too clear that he knows exactly what he's doing to her. He's aware that he is the reason behind the ever top of her game Muse. "That seat all but had yer name on it, darlin. Now, tell Remy wha has ya comin in here all dolled up, ya?"
He'd be lying to himself if he tried to deny just how damn attractive little Des is; just how pretty she looks with her red face and that adorable little giggle. His smirk breaks into something fond and entertained.
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Post by Countess on Sept 4, 2024 3:50:40 GMT
Des can feel herself burning up from the inside out. Why, for the love of God, can't her power help herself just this once? To get her shit together enough to not be a bumbling idiot in front of Remy? No matter what she does, she is going to be a fool, and find herself crawling back to people that don't pull her back into that mid-pubescent dumbness.
Just. Speak. Coherently.
"On a job, it sucked, getting ready to go back to my good client," she says, mentally patting herself on the back. Now just don't overshare- "Tony Stark. I'm working with Iron Man. He wants to make, like, clean water?" she continues, then she kicks herself. At least she kept to the script.
Remy must think she is an idiot.
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Post by Nomz on Sept 4, 2024 4:43:29 GMT
" Now tha, is a noble cause," Remy admits freely. While this isn't how he planned his night to turn out, he can't say he's disappointed in it. No, Desiree always promised fun even when she thought he didn't notice her fawning over him from afar. It was only his better nature that he never pointed it out to her. A better nature that he doesn't have currently. One finger runs along the edge of his glass, slow and easygoing. Those dark eyes seem to stare straight into her soul as he keeps talking, " Stark must be worth somethin if he's managed to pull ya in on 'is business, mon ami. Tho I hear he's a bon homme, if ya follow. Remy ain't gonna pull that information outta ya." " How's the big life goin now that yer outta the house and far from all dem?" Mon Ami - my friend
Bon homme means good man, but it’s the word for a doll, a plaything. G.I. Joe is a bon home. [He's calling Stark a plaything.] |
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Post by Countess on Sept 4, 2024 23:35:36 GMT
"Well, that's me, noble," Des says, quick and laughing as she says it. It is... just a touch awkward. God, she could just... stick that butter knife on the table into her heart. Right now. Why isn't she stopping this train wreck? Right, because she craves his attention and wants every single moment of this even if it is a train wreck. What is the worst he can do? Laugh at her? Just to be sure, in case anything should happen... Des discretely texts Mr. Stark, seeing if he can send his private jet to get her.
Des watches that finger trace the rim of his glass, and she inwardly languishes that she will never be as smooth as him. Ever. It all seems so natural to him... Des had to work for this, for every bit of who she is.
Something in Des surges to defend Tony- and she almost gives in. Deep breath. "Mr. Stark is certainly more than the tabloids give him credit," she says, applauding her tact in that singular moment. she will explore why she wants to come to his defense later.
"Fantastic. Child Soldiers; the School was basically... the worst time of my life. Not a fighter. Who wants to get hurt? Lunacy," Des says, finally able to pull something of herself out of the awkwardness of wanting to be married to this man since she was eleven.
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Post by Nomz on Sept 6, 2024 1:24:30 GMT
His eyebrows raise just a tad as she comes to Stark's defense and there is certainly something curious in his gaze now. He can't remember the last time he's heard such a positive review from her about a client. Or, anyone really.
"Is he now," Remy asks low and easy. He always knew how to make his voice taste like the whiskey he drinks. His eyes trace the line of her nose, the shape of Des' jaw, and her lips before his gaze flicks back up to her eyes.
"I eva tell ya that y've got a real beautiful laugh?" Oh, he's laying it on just a touch thick. There are many things Remy would happily sit and talk about. The psychosis of having a school of pre-made soldiers isn't on that list. No, by the time he had joined the X-Men, he had been too old for classes. He knows Des hasn't been. "The only kinda pain Remy likes is just a touch 'a hair pullin. Maybe a good hand at the-"
He pauses to lift a hand and tap his throat with a wink.
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Post by Countess on Sept 6, 2024 2:38:27 GMT
Des can feel her heart pounding in her ears. Between his voice and realizing what she just said about Tony.... the blush on her cheeks is half embarrassment and coyness. How many times had she imagined this moment exactly, his eyes running along her face-
Wait. What the fuck about Rogue? Des shrinks back a little. That woman could, and would, kill her. Pump the breaks, Des. Pump them hard. Not like they really needed it, she is... really fumbling this. Whatever she could have cooked is burnt and smoldering, even with his generous flirting. Something about this feels wrong.
"Remy, what are you doing here?" Des asks, trying to think of him as a person, not... a God. "Why are you flirting with me?" she adds. "Hit rock bottom?" she says, laughing a bit hollowly. "I mean, come on. I know an ego boost grab when I see one, I am the Queen of them."
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Post by Nomz on Sept 6, 2024 3:03:55 GMT
Remy sighs, shoulders deflating as he looks out at the band playing on the stage near them. His hand returns to his glass, but he doesn't drink from it.
"I left. Quit. Walked out on dem," he starts slowly as if every answer left him a little more hollow. He doesn't return his gaze to Des for some time. "Yer the one blushin like a bride at her wedding night at my table, darlin."
Finally, he looks up at her and he seems so much more sober. Sadder too. Broken. "Rogue said she- we don' work. Again. I...couldn't stay. Got my fortune read in New York. Told to get my house in order." He frowns. "Headed to New Orleans to deal with my past."
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Post by Countess on Sept 7, 2024 0:31:20 GMT
"How puritanical of you to say," Des says dryly. She is starting to find her stride with him. "You certainly aren't the only one to walk away from them, though perhaps one of the few to walk away because you were dumped," Des says, then shrugs. "I guess that shows how far your loyalty lasts, non?" she says, still blushing, still awkward, still trying to be who she is when he isn't involved.
"Well, you aren't there yet, and you look like shit when you are sad, so," Des says, looking away from him entirely. She is a little concerned for him. Not that she would ever say anything to that effect. "How can I cheer you up? For tonight at least."
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Post by Nomz on Sept 7, 2024 1:20:58 GMT
Remy snorts and amusement colors his tone, "Last person ya should expect to be loyal." He finds that he quite enjoys this version of Desiree. The one that isn't stumbling so hard over her worlds and trying so obviously both to embrace and escape his attention.
There are shadows of melancholy hanging around his eyes as he watches his companion turn away from him. There is a promise of peace, however temporary, if he just lets go this once. He doesn't have to be Gambit here. Remy has no need to hide behind his natural charm and guile.
Just let go, Remy.
He raises his drink to his lips, downing half of what is left before pushing the rocks glass across the table to Desiree. Remy takes a short breath, "Dance with me. Not here." His free hand makes a vague gesture at the too-packed bar they sit in. "There are other places, standin room only. 'M not askin ya to fuck me, cher. Just, stay with me a bit?"
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Post by Countess on Sept 7, 2024 3:24:58 GMT
Des raises an eyebrow, but takes a breath. She isn't being... smart about this. It is simply because of who he is. She tries to gather up what more of herself she can, and she focuses it on him.
"A dance?" Des asks, considering it. As far as she can tell, he isn't lying. He just... doesn't want to be alone. How far that goes, she will see. Des takes a breath. She hadn't even ordered a drink yet. Her eyes goes to the drink he slid across the table to her, knowing that in drinking it... it is damn close to an agreement.
She thinks about it...
Des takes the drink, downing it in one go. "Where to, Remy?" she asks, ready, Ride the wave, Des. The plane will be here... maybe. If it is, she will be there in time. If not... well, she has a back up plan regardless. "Just... no more Stark talk. Okay? Something is happening there, I am still exploring it, and in the nature of reciprocity... I won't bring up her."
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Post by Nomz on Sept 7, 2024 3:39:11 GMT
Remy blows out a breath he had been holding when she takes the drink, downing the rest of it in one go. That all too pleased and easy grin slips back into place and it would be clear to hear that he is sincere in it.
"Tres bien!" He pushes himself to his feet with the happy explanation and the chair protests are drowned out by the music. The lights cast new shadows on his face as he turns to offer his arm to Desiree and, god damn, it's not hard to see why Rogue fell in love with this utter fool of a man.
"Remy's got an envie for something loud and outside. More country than this here jazz, ya?"
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