View Full Version : Return to consciousness.
02-18-2005, 12:32 PM
It was dark, but once you've slept on a bed long enough, you could be deaf and blind and still know when you were on that bed. The last thing Remy remembered, however, was running into a smoky room, seeing the child, and then...
A gun shot.
He was sore.
Sitting up slightly, he groaned aloud and touched his chest. Bandages. He'd be shot, and someone had pulled him out. He didn't know who. Glancing to the bedside table, he shook his head, wishing they'd left him some pain medication after they'd stitched him up.
Rising from the bed, slowly, he sat on the edge for a moment, getting his bearings. He was still wearing jeans, but no shirt or shoes. Moving slowly, he stepped into some shoes and slipped into a t-shirt, then left his room, grabbing his cigarettes on the way out. He needed some fresh air, and a good smoke.
His progress through the quiet Mansion was slow, but eventually he made it to a door that would let him out, and with a final glance around - surprised he had yet to see another soul - and then he ducked out the door.
The cool air washed quickly over him, causing him to shiver, but also waking him up considerably. He paused in the doorway, lighting a cigarette, and took a deep drag off of it, exhailing slowly, gloriously into the chill night air.
His shoes crunched on the small rocks as he made his way slowly around the Mansion, not really paying attention to where he was going.
The British Butterfly
02-18-2005, 01:59 PM
Betsy had taken some time for herself to get away from everything that'd happen with her recently. A bit of "soul searching" one might say that's prove to help her out a bit in the long run. Some well deserved time away from the X-Mansion had been needed, but it was time for her return. Afterall she was sure that she couldn't stay away -too- long. They wouldn't exactly survive without her. At least that's what she'd often liked to tell herself. After the incidents that'd happen recently, Betsy hadn't come from it all short handed all together. She'd gained another ability, another talent, a 'gift' as she'd like to call it. The gift of Shadow Transporation. The ability allowed her to take to shadows and it was through those shadows that she could transport herself anywhere she wanted to go. In came in handy when she didn't want to take a bus, or a cab, or even a car in general. The ability came in handy as of now.
Easing from the shadows that the large mansion that Charles Xavier owned created, she took a step out just behind the area that Remy LeBeau had found himself trekking over. Her foot falls were silent, more so than his, and the only items she'd had in tow with her had been a small overnight bag. She'd been wearing perfectly warm clothing to prevent the cold air from giving her chills, and dare one even say, cursing her with what the normal mortals called 'colds'. A pair of nice hip hugger jeans had adorned her lower body, accentuating the covers of her hips visibly leaving the tone in her abdomen quite obvious to the naked eye if it hadn't been from the low cut top and nice jacket that rested upon her shoulders. Her feet had been comfortably snug in shoes, and while the spring had been setting in she was still reminded of bits of winter.
For a moment, it might've seemed as if the British Butterfly hadn't been quite aware of her surroundings but it was obvious that that was far from the case. She was well aware of her surroundings, and she was aware of the charming cajun that had been walking around looking less than put together at the current moment. For all that it was worth, it actually looked as if things hadn't changed from where she stood which was always a good thing. After a moment, she'd finally taken the liberty of announcing her presence with a faint breath that'd left her lips and the soft clearing of her throat. She was well aware that the cajun would perhaps know that she's there, but still there were times when she liked to remain inconspicuous and was one that could very well pull it off.
"Goodness, darling, I'm sure you've seen better days.."
The words were a greeting more or less, but they'd been heavily dipped in what could've sounded perfectly like a british accent filled with every bit of charm that the lavender haired mutant possessed. Her weight had been shifted a bit, and a hand fell to the curve of her hip as she let it rest comfortably. Her weight shifted idly with her bag, the beginnings of a smile curling itself at the corner of her full lips. She was more or less wanting to get his attention. While it was something that she didn't necessarily demand, it was something that she liked be it from any male that was as handsome as he had been. But then again, that was Betsy for anyone. She was well aware of where he stood with Rogue, and despite the thoughts that might've ran through her mind, harmless teasing and flirting with any male was all that came naturally when it came to speaking with her.
02-18-2005, 02:41 PM
Other times, when he didn't have a hole in his chest, he would've spun around to face the newly arrived mutant. Currently, however, he was moving much more slowly. His red eyes narrowed when she spoke, and he grinned slightly, despite the dull throb in his chest. Turning slowly, his eyes settled on Betsy, and he exhaled cigarette smoke into the air again, then half-bowed to her, wincing slightly as he did.
"Good evenin', cherie."
His cigarette held in his right hand, he clutched the bandaged part of his chest with his left as he straightened back up, and he chuckled quietly, nodding as he took another drag off the cigarette.
"Ya might say Ah was shot while tryin' ta be all heroic..."
The British Butterfly
02-18-2005, 02:58 PM
There was a bit of a smirk that curled upon the corner of her lips, though when he stopped to finally acknowledge her, Psylocke found her eyes dance about his frame. He really was in bad shape, and Psylocke could only imagine what would've caused the cajun to come off as if he's been rolled through some mud and trampled on. She was already putting two and two together however, and it didn't even take her to have to read his thoughts to do so. Brownie points for the britasian. She felt a cool gust of wind whip at her frame once more, and her shoulders rose and fell once more. That cajun drawl of his was thick per usual as he greeted her, and one could actually say that her smile faultered. Asian slanted hues fell into a narrow slightly, not in a threatening manner however as she took a step forward almost out of concern. As his hands came to clutch his chest, she glanced down at where his hands were, and she heard the explanation behind it all and she shook her head. Psylocke couldn't help but grow weary in her days as an X-Man.
She often wondered if the X-Men would ever see Charles Xaviers dream, and despite the fact that she shouldn't, she questioned what was right or wrong. It didn't matter however, because she'd still fight at his side no matter what. But one couldn't blame her from questioning him. Not in the least. There wasn't a day that passed that the X-Men did not put their lives on the line for him and that was all there was to it really. Despite the worry that had over took her mind, she managed to put on that charming smile of hers that she at times possessed, remaing at times to keep her calm, collected, and stoic exterior up to par with the best of them.
"Aww, poor baby. Are you recovering well?"
She asked, but that was only something that served to trigger a few more questions from her. But they had only been mental. While she wanted to know what had happened to get him shot, she was sure that she'd find out soon enough. Despite the sarcasm that might've lurked behind the first few words, the last part of her question was filled with a warmth that she only exuded for her friends. She'd taken the liberty of easing her over night bag to the ground as she watched him carefully, and she was almost on the verge of suggesting he should sit before hurting himself anymore but simply refrained.
02-18-2005, 03:26 PM
Remy LeBeau took a last drag off the cigarette, then dropped it to the cold ground and pressed it out with the heel of his shoe, then raked his fingers back through his messed hair, his other hand still clutching his chest.
"Dis is actually da firs' time Ah've been up an' movin' around since i' happen'd... so far, so good, Ah t'ink..."
He paused then, leaning against the side of the Mansion with another wince, and looked her up and down once, smirking when his red eyes met her lavenders.
"So are ya comin' back f'r good, or jus' stoppin' by in da dark of night to grab'a few frillies?"
The British Butterfly
02-18-2005, 03:46 PM
Betsy watched him closely as he smoked that cigarette without a care in the world, and through it all she mannaged to keep that smirk that had curled itself along the corner of her lips. Lavender eyes never faultered from his own red and black ones, and as she shifted her weight once more, she moved to push off on one foot to make her way in his direction closer. Hips moving with her strides, but not in a sense to seduce him. She'd make sure the teasing was to come later if it came at all. Afterall, who was she to pass up a chance when it was presented to her.
As his words reached her ears they served to only bring forth a simple nod from her. He was fairing quite well so that was definately a good thing. As those locks of hair spilt over her shoulder, she glanced in the direction of the ground where the cigarette had been put out before looking back to him, in time to catch his eyes ease over her figure in the way that most men tended to look at her. It only served to bring a brighter smirk to her lips more obvious than before and his next words were the ones that she'd replied to.
"For a second there, it almost sounded as if you missed me Gambit." Her words bordered sarcasm briefly, before she continued. "I'll be around for a while, unless you're planning on trying to run me off.."
Another free step had been taken in his direction, and her smirk turned into a smile that could've honestly meant anything.
02-20-2005, 12:22 AM
For a lesser man, the hip-swaying approach of one Betsy Braddock would send nervous adrenaline coursing through every vein in his body. Remy LeBeau, however, was not a lesser man. Women approaching him in such a manor, if not more boldly, was something he'd grown accustomed to over his life.
And, of course, it was quite likely most of his adrenaline had been used up earlier in the day, as they tried to pull people from the burning building.
But still, Remy did not move from where he was leaning against the building, his body still trying to recover it's full strength. No one took a shot to the chest and was up and running around a few hours later. Except for the short, hairy one. Bastard.
Gambit's gaze did not wavier from hers as he replied: "Now why would Ah wanna run you off, cherie? Ya know Ah love seein' those lovely hips of your saunterin' aroun' da Mansion..."
The British Butterfly
02-20-2005, 02:01 AM
It was obvious that alot of things had happened at the mansion in her absence. A talk with Charles was something that was well deserved, for she's come to this very conclusion. Lavender locks of hair spilled along her shoulders freely, as the sassy britasian let her exotic eyes drift over Gambit's frame once more. At least up closer she'd be able to tell exactly what he'd been through. She didn't know the details, she knew the jist. There was never a moments rest in this place, and there was always something going on to keep each of the X-men busy with something. There would be a day of peace, a time of peace, and perhaps the vision of it is what makes Psylocke strive so hard and fight so hard for Charles as it was. It still didn't matter that she often questioned his dream for peace with humans.
Easing around his taller frame, Betsy came to stand infront of the cajun, as she eased a hand along the curve of her hip watching him with all intents and purposes. No one ever knew what the British butterfly was thinking. For while her actions did one thing, she could've completely been thinking another thing. Always a reason behind everything she's done. Or everything she does. As Gambit spoke however, her eyes fell back to his own red and black ones and she felt the faintest of smiles curl at the corner of her lips.
"Now why would Ah wanna run you off, cherie? Ya know Ah love seein' those lovely hips of your saunterin' aroun' da Mansion..."
Flattery at its best. He was a charmer that was for sure, but then again that was something that both mutants had in common. They both were. Betsy flirted, she teased, and her sexual inuendos were something that were common around Xaviers Mansion. The men all knew it. It was rare that she took a liking to anyone, though Warren Worthington was a completely different story.
"There could be many reasons, love. The fact that my hips are sauntering around this mansion is enough to make any man want to drop down and kiss my feet." Her words were teasing in nature as she winked at him. "You should rest, however, and find the comfort of that southern belle of yours.."
Her words were wise, of course whether Betsy was the type to turn down an invitation to flirt or do more was a questioned that was whispered on the wind. No one really knew but the lavender haired beauty herself.
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