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

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

That makes him laugh, though not in a mean way. It's the kind of laugh where he's definitely amused, but in the way a joke is meant to be shared. With her, not at her.

"De deck ain't jus' Jokers, non. I tuck dose at de back 'cause I was playin' solitaire earlier. An', if I lose de Joker? Ain't no hardship. No use for it in de main deck no how." He tucks the card away, back in the same place at the back of the deck. "Though ain't nobody who knows me back home gonna disabuse you of de idea I got a flair for de dramatic." He offers her a grin. "As for de 'splosions? Dat's somet'in' I got some control over. Could be jus' enough dat de card goes to ash. Or I could use several to clear an obstruction. Jus' depen's on what I need at de time."

To be fair, she wouldn't put it past him to have a marked deck, or be able to count cards (and if he does, she wants him to teach her). She giggles at his admission of a reputation for dramatics, but then it's back to the neat explosive options themselves.

"Does the size of the object limit how much boom you can put in it, or could you get a bigger bang out of, say, a brick? Or is it a cardstock-only kind of thing?"

"You got more atoms in a brick dan in a card, so yeah. Generally able to get a bigger bang outta one. Though it can be a bit harder to control how much bang you're gettin' outta it." He gives that a moment of consideration. "Also, takes a bit lon'er an' more energy. Normally, neither of dose are much of a pro'lem. Here, though..."

It was a lot harder to deal with the needs of his body when it came to replacing that energy on the current diet, after all.

Okay, so, more mass tends to equal more bang, but it'll take longer and it might get weird. It makes sense that he'd choose an item to specialize in, and a deck of cards is both a normal thing to carry around and something most people wouldn't assume is a weapon. Clever, clever.

"Do your powers not work as well here?" Stacia asks. Goodness knows hers don't.

Remy tilts his head in consideration. "Non. Powers're workin' jus' fine," he replies, then pauses. Because...it's not great, having to admit a weakness. But he doesn't know anybody here and somebody should probably know to be on the look out. Given everything, if one of his teammates were here, he wouldn't even have to say something.

But, wishes and horses.

"De pro'lem, petite, is dat it still works by de laws of physics. Gotta put energy in to get it out, hein?" He holds up the deck of cards. "So, e'ry card I light, dat takes some energy. De bigger I gotta go to charge somet'in', de more energy it takes. Dat, plus de fact I got an energy field workin' twenty-four-seven?"

She can probably work it out. He has a metabolism that's higher than average. And if she's been in the cafeteria, she knows what the meals are like.

It takes her a moment or two, but Stacia works through it. Her jaw drops slightly.

"Wow," she says. "The people who run fad diet scams must hate you."

She lowers her voice, leaning in a little. "There's a secret network on the hand-held computers. Some mystery person set it up so we can communicate without our corporate overlords seeing. A few people are working out solutions to the low-calorie diet option, you can let them know you want in."

She gets it faster than he might have expected, but he just gives her a grin and a laugh. "Dem an' anybody runnin' an "all you can eat" buffet."

He is listening, though, and nods when she tells him about the network. "I ain't had much time to go lookin' at it yet. But I'll keep dat in mind. I like cookin' so I can help out dat way, if nothin' else."

"Cooking is one of the duties we get cycled through," Stacia says. "I can follow a recipe, but I'm not particularly good at it. Unless you want me to eyeball meat on a stick over a fire, I've gotten pretty good at that. Any tips for a relative beginner?"

Bouncing back and forth from secrets to normal conversations. Like an adult!

"Ain't not'in' wrong wit' meat on a stick over a fire." He'd certainly done it a few times with his cousins when growing up. "But. Mos' of de basics ain't dat hard. Lotta improvisation based on what works well toget'er, hein?"

Remy grew up thieving and has been with the X-Men long enough that this is absolutely a normal conversation. Which probably says a lot right there.

"So like everything else, it only gets better with experience?" Stacia asks. "Fair enough, I kind of figured that. I'll just keep following recipes and offering to do prep work in exchange for watching them cook." She sighs. "I knew I should have started bugging people for recipes. I'd put money that I know at least one person who knows how to make jerky."

Remy opened his mouth, corner kicked up in a half smile as he started to say something, then closed his mouth with a snap and a sheepish look. "Yeah, dat it does. Like a lotta t'ings."

Yes, he'd been about to be a bit bawdier than that. Probably not a good idea at the moment.

"Well. We got a library dat ain't much fit for purpose, but bet dere's some sort of cookbooks in dere. Mebbe some survival books or a Boy Scout handbook." There HAD to be a recipe for jerky in a Boy Scout handbook, right? "Been a while since I tried, but dat was mos'ly gator."

Stacia narrows her eyes at him, then grins.

"You were about to say something that I would have had to respond to with "that's what she said", weren't you?"

Who has absolutely been adopted? That's right, Stacia has!

"You know, I don't think I've ever had gator," she says. "Deer yes, squirrel once or twice, and I'm pretty sure pigeon once. Oh, and kangaroo, because they're technically a pest species? But not gator. What's the best way to try that, should I have the opportunity?"

He cracked a wide grin at her. "Oui, dat I was." Because he might as well admit to it when he's been called out. "An' gator ain't too bad. Bit chewy if you ain't careful. One of dose meats you need t' cook low an' slow so it breaks down right."

"Low and slow if I'm eating it, high and fast if I'm cooking for baby werewolves who need to think before they talk, got it."

Stacia Novik: professional little shit.

That makes him laugh, shaking his head with a wide grin. "Dat's one way of doin' it, oui. Reckon a muzzle'd work, too." He's certainly felt that way about certain of his teammates.

~~Logan. Mostly Logan. And sometimes Bishop.~~

"I've thought about it, but it seems like it would be hard to wrestle a muzzle on one of them when you can just kick 'em in the shins or smack 'em upside the head." Stacia says. "Though I did once push a guy into a pond full of leeches, that was fun."

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

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