In the middle of the night/I go walking in my sleep

[kingofneworleans]

Who: Remy LeBeau and Open
What: Somebody's late and doing some exploring
Where: Rig halls/Gym/The Library
When: Toward the end of the ARE
Warnings/Notes: Phonetic accent ahoy! Action spam will be matched. Other warnings added as needed.


The Halls

Finally having been released a bit earlier in the day, Remy has spent it walking the halls. He's avoided the guys without faces so far, because faceless guys in suits are a bit weird, even for the X-Men. But they don't seem interested in him, anyway, so at least the feeling is mutual.

Right now, though, he's mentally mapping things out. And looking for the stationary closet. Every office complex has a stationary area, at the very least, and these guys seemed like the type to have a closet full of it. Mostly, he wants some paper and some pens. A ruler would be great, but not entirely necessary.

Finding a likely door, Remy glances around, then pauses a moment when he notices somebody nearby. "Bonjour. Somet'in' I can help you wit'?"

The Gym

"Ain't de Danger Room, but it'll do."

Remy's taken the chance to get out of the ill-fitting jumpsuit and in to...not quite as badly fitting gym clothes. Which isn't great because at least the jumpsuit is warmer. Still, a good workout would warm him up, too.

Lucky, he'd found a bo staff. Which he would get to, as soon as he finished with his stretches.

The Library

After finding the stationary, Remy went looking for a good place to settle down to get some drawing done. It's only the main floor that he'd gotten a good look at so far and he does have it down in his head. But it wouldn't be a bad idea to commit it to paper as well.

He also has a deck of cards at his hand, occasionally sitting back and shuffling the cards as he considers the map. The sound of the shuffling isn't loud in the library, but it's not exactly the most common sound in the room.

Comments

The Halls

[credit_not_blame]

Well, that was certainly an accent thick enough to make bricks with. Stacia blinked once as she parsed his words, then gave him one of her cute-and-innocent faces.

"Well, I wouldn't say 'no' if you could send me safely back home," she answered, "but judging by our matching jumpsuits, I don't think that's on the table. I haven't seen you around before, did you just arrive?"

[kingofneworleans]

He snorts, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his smile. "Reckon dat's one t'ing we're all lookin' for." Yes. Yes, the accent is thick. It's worse when he's actually in New Orleans. "Kinda. Dey jus' let me loose dis mornin'."

He tries the door, humming softly when it doesn't move. Locked, then. "Lookin' for where dey're keepin' de stationary. Place like dis has to have some easily accessable, yeah?"

[credit_not_blame]

"Then I feel compelled to assure you that the faceless dissolving weirdos aren't the norm around here," Stacia says, moving closer. Her jumpsuit is curiously large on her, all things considered. It may even been a larger jumpsuit than he's wearing.

She shrugs, glancing with all apparent idleness up and and down the hall.

"You'd think that, yeah, but their logic is business-people logic, not real-people logic. Have you seen the the smile-camera outside the cafeteria?"

[kingofneworleans]

"Dem, I've managed to miss."

His actually isn't too bad. It's weirdly long in the arms, though. And short in the legs. He eyes her jumpsuit and shakes his head, muttering something under his breath about the atrocious lack of style in this place.

He does laugh about the smile camera. "I have. Me, I'm jus' lucky dat it seems to calibrated only to look at mouths an' not eyes. Mine give normal cameras fits on a good day."

And yes, past the slight squint of amusement, his eyes are definitely odd. "Pretty sure, petite, dat 'business-people logic' is an oxymoron."

[credit_not_blame]

She smirks when he mutters about the incredibly unstylish jumpsuits, shoving her hands into the pockets of hers.

He does have strange eyes. It puts her on edge a little, but she's pretty sure that 'weird eyes' is more of a fae thing back home than anything she might have to immediately throw down with. Still, since he mentioned them first, it's not rude for her to take a closer look, right?

(Not very close, he's way too tall for that.)

"Huh. Yeah, I can see how that would be a problem. I take it that's a unique feature back home too, huh?"

She giggles when he calls her 'petite' and runs with her logic joke. "Point! But they're extra business-y, if you know what I mean. As if their 'recruitment' methods didn't make that obvious enough."

[kingofneworleans]

"Pretty much. Had dem since I was a pup. Born wit' dem." The squint releases a bit so she can get a better look. But the lights are bright and his sunglasses are in his damned trenchcoat.

He snorts, crouching down to get a good look at the lock on the door he'd been ready to test. "Recruit. Draft. Same difference, far as dese cons are concerned."

[credit_not_blame]

When he crouches down to inspect the lock, she leans against the wall next to the door, conveniently blocking the view of anyone coming from behind her while she can keep an eye out for anyone coming the other way.

"People who rely on facial recognition must love dealing with you," she drawls. "Not that I'm implying anything, of course."

She's totally, absolutely implying something, but he's the one taking a good close look at a door lock. Maybe if she's helpful, he'll teach her a couple tricks that don't rely on magic.

"I'm Stacia, by the way."

[kingofneworleans]

He can't help but grin at her movement. Not that he entirely needs the cover, but it's good to have. And the fact that she'd done it without him even saying anything says a lot about the sorts of things she's used to.

"Can't say as I've talked to many of dem, but my cousin occasionally curses me out 'bout it." Since Lapin was partly in charge of the Guild security in New Orleans. And Remy is part of putting together the security for the school, so THOSE cameras he knows can handle his eyes.

He glances up at her, giving her a lopsided grin. "Remy. Pleasure's mine, as dey say." And he absolutely does mean it. Or he seems pretty convincing that he means it. "Hmm. Don' s'pose you got a bobby pin or somet'in' like dat, Stacia?"

[credit_not_blame]

"Sadly, they took all of my bobby pins when I got here," Stacia says. "And I'm not confident enough in my skills to try and snitch them out of the hair of sober women, especially when most employees here are wary of getting in arm's reach of me.

She examines her nails and immediately regrets it. So badly chipped, ugh.

"Which segues nicely to 'by the way, I'm a werewolf'," she adds. "Non-contagious variety."

[kingofneworleans]

That gets a short, sharp French invective under Remy's breath, but he shakes his head. "Well. I wouldn' have a problem wit' doin' dat, but I ain't seen one of de ladies wit' her hair up." Not yet, at least. "Could use a paper clip instead, but I ain't got one of dem on me."

Not until later when he ran into Saturday, at least.

The last bit of it makes him look up, rocking back on his heels though not bothering to stand up yet. "Mutant ability or somet'in' else?"

It could be either. And he'd known a couple of mutant wolf shifters, after all.

[credit_not_blame]

"I don't suppose you're willing to give lessons in that particular skillset?" Stacia asks, because the worst he can say is 'no'. Well, the worst he can do is tattle to Jorgmund, but that seems unlikely at this point.

She shrugs. "Everyone in the know says it's magic, and I'm inclined to believe them. I gain about three feet in height and a significant amount of mass. I don't know what you're used to mutants being able to do, but that's not scientifically plausible where I'm from."

[kingofneworleans]

"Well. My real tools are in de care of de corporate overlords, though I doubt dey know what dey have." They'd have to be bothered to go through all the pockets in the trenchcoat to figure out what all was in there. And Remy isn't telling them. "Still. Locks like dese? Good place to start learnin'. Don' even need de right tools for it."

While he's not going to go out of his way to let the higher ups know what sort of skills he has, he has no problem letting at least a few of the other new hires know.

More because he's still sneaky enough to get away with it even IF somebody blabbed.

He straightens, making a thoughtful sound at that. "Believe me, petite. Mutant abilities? Dey make scientific plausibility cry on de regular. Still, if dere are a lot like you? Den magic is more likely."

The Library

[wheyoftheadept]

Saturday pokes an exhausted head around a stack, sword out. It's been a long day; she's hungry, sore, bruised, and tired to the bone. Ought to be in bed, but she's checking every corner with the dogged determination of someone who needs to feel in control of something about their life right now.

If that sound's another drone with a copy machine or something, though, swear t'fucking god -

"Oh. Hey, Gambit."

[kingofneworleans]

Remy looks up, eyebrows raised as he takes in the sword and the tiredness with practiced eyes. "Bonsoir, petite. Look like you've had a day." He taps the deck back together, setting it aside. "Come on an' sit. T'inkin' you need it."

[wheyoftheadept]

She hesitates a moment before accepting his offer. As she sits, she sheathes her blade in her metal arm, which opens along an invisible seam to receive it.

"Didn't see you in the excitement. Keeping busy?"

Reflexively, she pulls out a power bar and starts chewing. It's a well-trained habit; you have five minutes to sit, you eat something and drink some water. Hard to feel hungry in a firezone, at least until you're so faint you miss a trick and get your head blown off.

[kingofneworleans]

The sword going INTO her arm gets the eyebrows up another notch, but he settles down quickly enough. "Didn' know dere was any 'xitement goin' on. Got myself good an' distracted."

Power bars are one of those things that Remy tends to keep on his person, as well. But he hadn't replaced them yet and everything he does carry is in the hands of their corporate overlords. "Been doin' a lotta walkin' today. Gettin' de lay of de land, as it were." He turns the map toward her. "Gettin' it all straight in my head, too."

[wheyoftheadept]

"Stuff got on the rig. We all got stuck doing icebreakers and corporate morale exercises and shit. Someone's bad dream about their job, I guess."

She washes down her powerbar with some water and leans forward to study the map.

"Not bad. You couldn't get past the security doors either, huh?"

[kingofneworleans]

"Soun's like a good t'ing I missed out on dat." Because that definitely sounds like a nightmare to Remy. He is not one for that sort of job.

When asked about the security doors, Remy has to shake his head. "Non. Didn' give it too much of a try, though. Didn' wanna draw attention an' my tools are wit' my ot'er suit."

[wheyoftheadept]

"Shame about your tools. Anything we can duplicate?" She coughs. "I, uh, tried getting through 'em with muscle, the doors and the bulkheads around them. Didn't work. On a related note, did you know the cameras are busted?"

[kingofneworleans]

That makes him pause, frowning. "Non, missed dat part." He's been catching up on the comms, but hadn't gotten through everything yet. "Might've tried a bit more if I'da known dat."

He sits back, tapping the pencil on the table in thought. "Might have a chance wit' my picks. Ain't so easy to duplicate, but I can pro'bly make do wit' somet'ing else. Handful of paperclips'd be a good place to start."

[wheyoftheadept]

"Well, now you know. Fellow I've been chatting with found it out. Look for a post on the comms by Quaestor, there's intel there and one of the comments on the bottom has a decent map of halls and vents. There's a ton of void space, most of it accessible though not large - this place was completely jury-rigged and so big I'd be surprised if anyone here knew all the ins and outs."

As she talks, she indicates on his map where some of the more useful spaces are, the ones that can fit more than one person, or look likely the connect to other areas.

"Haven't done a lot of exploring beyond that. Didn't fancy getting stuck in a vent somewhere without a spotter."

She taps her chin, thinking. "Paperclips, okay. There's a stationary closet here in the library that's locked, but the desk ought to have at least a couple."

[kingofneworleans]

He takes the map back, scribbling a few things on it. Small notations in a hand that is neat enough, but the notations themselves obviously are meant to mean something to him and nobody else. "Bien. Good to know." He can do some exploring of those areas himself, get the lay of the land with his own eyes. Everybody has different needs, after all. "You ever wanna go explorin', lemme know. More dan happy to accompany you."

Remy looks up at her and grins. "What kin'a lock's on de door? Don' reckon it'd be too much hassle." Right sort of lock, he might not even need a paperclip or two.

Well. Small piece of paper and he wouldn't need them, either. But exploding a lock tends to be conspicuous.

[wheyoftheadept]

Saturday grins back, having expected this response. "Looked mechanical to me, kinda thing you'd buy at the Home Depot. An' the librarian's asleep right now."

"Wouldn't mind the assistance," she continues. "There's a bit of a plan in the works for some penetration testing on the upper levels - see if we can get in there, take a look around, maybe steal some smokes. If we can find a discreet way in an' out, that'll make things easier. Or just a bolthole if things go sideways for the upstairs crew, someplace to lay low til we can extract 'em."

[walkingballpit]

The gym clothes are, to Robbie’s estimation, the clear winner over the jumpsuit. He’ll gladly freeze in a pair of shorts that were perhaps regulation basketball shorts in the 80s if it means getting out of the onesie for awhile.

“The Danger Room? Why would you do that, the Danger Den is right there. The Contact Kitchen. The Wreck Room, oh my god, how did it take me three tries?” The simplest puns are the hardest to get to, sometimes.

Whatever workout he’s been planning has clearly been replaced by putting his mouth through its paces. “So you’re a stretching guy. I’ve seen some studies saying stretching’s pointless unless your end goals include flexibility. You don’t look like you’re in Hulk level danger of not being able to touch your toes.”

[kingofneworleans]

The main probably for Remy was just that the cold brought up bad memories. But, so little else matched up with that that it was easier to push them away.

Remy looks over with a wide grin. "I didn' name de place, mon ami. Dat was set long 'fore I joined de team." Though he hasn't explained which team he means yet. Might not be something the other guy is even interested in.

Though...he does look kind of familiar. Something that Remy files at the back of his mind for the moment.

He takes a moment to change position and shrugs. "Dunno if it helps, but can't say as it hurts, neither. Guess it all evens out in de en', hein?"