ten_fwd | Entries tagged with remy lebeau

It wasn't horribly late at night but it was late enough that Lorna felt a little bad disturbing Remy. She was dressed and showered (an unsatisfying experience without water), and bored out of her mind. Sleep was an elusive creature and had been ever since her experiences as Vulcan's prisoner. She hoped he would be in and awake so she wouldn't have to walk to the bar alone.

Despite all the horrors her time as a hero had led her to experience she wasn't used to civilian life. Going so long without a fight for her life or the lives of others was strange. In some ways she didn't like it, though she thought she ought to like the peace. Maybe she just wasn't made for it anymore. Maybe conflict was just in her nature. Being pushed around by some invisible jerk with too much power was a sadly familiar concept.

Heavy thoughts like these were the reason she was on Remy's doorstep, hoping he would answer.

electro_kinetic

Noriko has been bored before. It usually doesn't last very long, and her time on the Enterprise hasn't been an exception up until now. there's only so much origami she can do, and running out of voluntary upkeep to do on the things she owns is approaching way faster than she anticipated. She can't exactly go wild with the gauntlet upgrades in a place with such a finely-tuned electrical balance, either, or so she's guessing given the less-than-pleased response she got from Lieutenant Sunshine upon the last lightshow she unwittingly put on.

So she's building something. Or more accurately, has built something, which she is now testing in the hallways as she goes whizzing by people and starts trying out tricks on the rollerblade hybrids. So far, this is going great!

But she does have to find corners sometime. (If you're looking for her, just follow the grumblings of the crew. You'll probably get to her sooner or later.)

diamonds_are_forever

Emma blinked at her surroundings, her grip on Faith's hand tightening as she realized they weren't in their home anymore. The press of voices was heavy on her mind. In self-defense she closed her mental surveillance and let her senses take over. Too many people were too close and she had to keep a lot of awareness on the three year old at her side.

She took a step forward, her sky blue party dress swishing a little, her heels making a soft 'click' when they contacted the floor. After a moment's consideration she picked up her daughter and moved with purpose toward the bar. There were other things that caught her eyes and would require investigation, but right now she wanted to see what information was readily available.

So much for Christmas with Scott. She couldn't say she was upset about it.

Permission post is here

callmegambit

Personal Log, stardate 44195.79851598155...

After recording his log, Remy looked around the expanse of Ten Forward, smiling, as his hands almost automatically drew out a new deck of cards, opened them, and then started shuffling them. But not normally.

Remy was fond of games. He liked games especially if they were skill games, ones requiring an expenditure of effort, not just to win the game, but to show you had some skill in some area. He had played many such back home, from roofrunning to thievery, and he had never backed down from them. He liked them, and what each one brought to his mind new ideas and new variations of old skills and abilities.

Coming up with new ways to shuffle cards was one such thing, and as he watched the room, he began using one new technique after another. Side shuffle, flip the tip, run the line, and more were added to a normal shuffle, then made more complex by card being flipped in the air, and caught, sometimes slowly, and sometimes faster. He wasn't being flashy about it, or trying to catch attention, he was just working on being busy.

For the moment.

(ooc: The thread with Elizabeth has entered into nsfw territory.)

tryit

You can't grow up on an Avengers world without strange occurrences being a part of your life every now again, least growing up in New York City. Superheroes flying around in metal suits or wielding god-like powers or turning into giant green hulks are just par course. No biggie, not really. Maybe a frustration to some people, but Kate Bishop had always seen them as an inspiration. Just like the time she spent in soup kitchens as a kid, these were people doing their own part to make the world a better place.

Yeah, there was a big cost sometimes. A painful cost. Superheroes put their lives at risk every fight. Some of them die. Others just make stupid ass mistakes that ought to make them grateful to have the plucky partner more than willing to save them from themselves.

Which is why, after a good night's sleep in her own bed in her own apartment for the first time in months, the very first thing Kate thinks of doing when she wakes up the next morning isn't to check in with her dad or sister. It's to check in with that other Hawkeye. You know, the one not nearly as cool or suave and who always manages to find some sort of excuse to turn bandages into this year's fashion statement.

(If he ever even noticed that she was gone for the past couple of weeks. Because that's all it's been, hasn't it? A couple of weeks despite the fact that it had seemed much more like months. Time and dimension hopping: fun for everyone determined to keep to a linear timeline.)

Still, strange things happen in New York City. Often. Which is why, rather than freaking out, she only blinks when Clint's lobby disappears and is instead replaced with a completely unfamiliar setting. She places her hand on her hip and looks around. And smirks.

"I know I was gone for a few months saving the world and everything," Kate begins as she walks further in the room, not necessarily addressing anyone in particular but the room at large, "but c'mon, Clint. It wasn't that long. Definitely not long enough to build a bar in your building's lobby."

She hadn't even made it up to his apartment yet. Yeah, maybe she should have called before coming over and actually checked to see if he was home or patrolling. But surprise had sounded more fun at the time. Besides, after all that time travelling on Noh-Varr's ship, it felt good to be back on the back of her bike, weaving in and out of the New York traffic en route to Bed-Stuy.

Motorbike helmet tucked under one arm, Kate rests her bow on the ground as she takes in the room. Her purple leather jacket covers half of her normal spandex. Superhero or not, she's only human. And New York Decembers are chilly. Her bow and quiver rest across her back but she doesn't make any movement to grab either. So far, no sign of hostility from the natives. No reason to be hostile in return.

"Okay. Anyone want to fill me in on where I really am? Cause, Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore."

magnetic_magpie

The week of Carnival touches on many memories for Magneto. Not just family history and time spent in Germany before his family had fled, but years in Brazil, too eventful to be called peaceful but at least a time he was happy for periods. And then Lorna had arrived.

At least he'd managed to figure out the replicators enough to get raw materials and in moments alone, both in his quarters and not, he'd managed to make not only a selection of pots and pans, but a small induction cooktop - not much more than a fancy hot plate, but a safe one. And since the replicators kept giving him pantry stables, he'd pulled a metal table (made from seemingly impossibly thin sheeting for the strength) outside his quarter's door into the passageway. And set up his cooktop. And started cooking.

Pancakes on Tuesday. Complete with bowls of butter, jars of syrups and honey, bowls of fruit, some fresh, some he'd cut up and cooked down, a shaker of powdered sugar. It wouldn't be difficult to get him to whip up some heavy cream. Or to get him to make something chocolate instead of normal pancakes.

Berliners on Thursday. Fat, egg-yolk rich balls of dough, fried and filled with a variety of fillings, some glazed, some iced in vanilla or chocolate, some dusted with powdered sugar, some rolled in granulated sugar. There's only half a dozen or so at a time - he's not going to waste the food, but he'll make enough to keep them around. And, as with Tuesday, he'll make something special if asked.

He's antsy and trying to calm down - this helps. More than most would know.

callmegambit

"Now this ain't right." Remy's words were spoken softly, but even so a few people glanced at him. he hunched over Mattie and kept scrolling through information as he sipped his root beer float. He did not look at any of them, trying not to draw too much attention.

He'd been on this ship for a little over three hours, and he'd managed to get the lowdown on what had happened, and why he was there, and so far, he had managed to avoid security, and notice, by too many crewmembers. It helped that he was able to convince them to leave him alone, carefully. He'd first appeared in the ship's shop area, and had quickly both learned of his new location and found a poker game. He had skills where finding those came in, and he managed to charm his way in, with his antique bone dice. And that had been their mistake.

His loot from the game was a small computer tablet, some coins from various planets, two markers for favors owed, which, he figured, might come in handy, and a set of pants and shirt won from a crewmember who was a bit too confident in their skills. The tablet was apparently called a P.A.D.D., which just sounded dumb to Remy, so he immediately renamed it Mattie, because it seemed to know a lot about where he was, and what the place was like, and he would need that. He'd spent most of the last half hour going through it, looking for answers and deleting everything personal the other person had left on it.

He had changed into the new clothing, after making sure, in his own way, they were clean. years of living on or near the streets had gifted him with skills, and he was sure, now, that they had been put on within an hour of him winning them. He'd even escorted the crewmember home, letting them use his coat to cover their bra and underwear on the way. A shame he had not been in the mood to follow them in, as they had seemed to be in favor of the idea. But he needed to find out what was going on here, not dally.

As much as he did love dallying.

Damn it.

He sighed and sat back, sliding Mattie into a pocket and watching the lounge he was now sitting in. Seemed not too busy, but not dead either. He wondered when the security people he had managed to avoid would find him. And if his fellow poker players would risk censure by their fellows to report him. there was, after all, no honor among thieves. He ought to know.

(ooc: The Remy-Noriko thread has gone into NSFW/NC-17 territory, involving descriptions of nakedness and human anatomy, and sexual practices by two people with no shame. Read at your own risk.)

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Ten Forward Social Lounge

pl to Remy LeBeau (nsfw)

Rollerblading! | OTA

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Ten Forward, Open

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1st entrance: Quote the T'ief, Nevermore.

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