Drinks And Cajun Seasoning

March 22, 2014: Cal runs into Remy at a club.

Shaw's mutant friendly club.



Mood Music:

(continued from a prior scene)

Cal can't help but roll his eyes as Hank starts going on - at length - about the etymology of his surname. But it's an amused roll; at least he's being social even if he is babbling. Shaw's offer to pay for their drinks is met with a smile and thanks but he intends to pretty much stick with what he'd order normally anyway. Speaking of which, he down the Guinness and orders a second, stepping away from the small group in order to get a better look around the club.

Remy's amusement lasts as long as the stench of sulfur is caught before peeling away from the immediate line of sight of anyone that may know him. Not that he isn't feeling social just that he isn't feeling /that/ kind of social, it's an easy exit until he finds himself in a direct course with Calvin. No dodge room this time - that is saying a lot for Gambit.

"Bonsoir, homme."

"Bonsoir." Cal replies automatically as he turns to give Remy a smile. It's one of those polite 'nice to meet you in a club' type of smiles that changes as he gets a look at who he's talking to. There's recognition there and the smile turns a bit more 'real' but there's a bit of wariness as well.

"Thats uh, quite the crowd back there, no?" Easy smooth tones seem natural to the thief most people find his voice very soothing or it could just be that empathic charm ability the man possesses being projected. Take your pick, Remy is usually fairly liberal with it's use. It tends to act as a defense mechanism.

Cal casts a glance back over his shoulder then turns back to chuckle. "Yes, it is. If not in number." Hank, TJ and Kurt along with Shaw. Quite the crowd to be found together in a techno club, even one explicitly mutant friendly. "Remy right? Name's Cal. Nice to meet you."

"Qui… " Remy seems caught off guard that his name is known obvious as his brows rise up above the frame of his glasses, "Cal, huh, not anyone I know or know of. How do you be knowing of me, friend?" The rogue's lips are still quirked in to a smile. Those are also easy to maintain.

"I've run into a couple different versions of you in alternate realities." Cal says simply, lips quirking slightly as he sees whether he's believed or not. He's found it a lot simpler to just get that out of the way to explain any traces of familiarity rather than leave it a mystery. "Believe it or not."

"Alternate realities? That might be a bit too Deep Space Nine for me. Who put you up to this, Cal?" Remy glances past the man and then back. His brows still set in that upwards arch, reasons now being confusion. "Perhaps you 'n me both need, more to drink."

So that's another in the no column. "No joke though I know it's difficult to understand. But more to drink is a fine idea. What'll you have? On me." Cal offers.

"You're serious? Dese drinks def be needed." Remy wastes no time in cutting through the crowd and back towards the bar opposite the other mutant rabble-rousers. "You payin', huh? We'll have my drink o choice then." Tipping his chin at the bartender he holds up two fingers. Gambit must be a regular here or know the woman, she's already putting together something that looks like whiskey and cognac with some additional mixing. "I'm always fond of story tellers, weave for me, Cal. I'm all ears." He's also fishing for a cigarette as he gets comfortable in a stool.

Cal follows Remy over to the bar and takes the stool next to him, paying for the drinks when they're ready. "The multiverse is made up of a practically infinite number of realities stacked together like a deck of cards. Each reality is different, some in very small ways, some in major. In some, Gambit is an X-man. In some, he's a member of Weapon X. In others, neither." lifting his glass, he says "à votre santé."

Remy actually appreciates the explanation in terms he can understand added topped off with the toast it actually warms him up to Cal, slightly. "Yes, à votre santé." A quick drink of the modified Algonquin cocktail the thief likes to think he's made even better with just that simple application of cognac. "Gambit? Who be that?" A playful grin appears after the drink is set aside and the cigarette replaces it. "So you're still insistent you telling the truth, huh? I'm still as handsome in all of these alternate realities, no? And where does this make you fit in?"

A sip of his drink and Cal gives it an appreciative look. "Gambit is the codename used by one Remy leBeau. It suits you, don't you think? And yes, you're just as handsome here as you are in other realities." he agrees with a look that's also appreciative. "As for me?" He pauses to take another sip before shrugging. "I'm here now. And was wondering if you were also. I didn't think to run into you by accident in a club in Manhattan."

Tendrils of smoke lift up and drift around Gambit as he sits there letting Cal's story sink in, "Fate perhaps. Accidents never seem to be just accidents. You may be here now but what did you do before here? I mean, you seem to know plenty about me in all my various shapes n' striking forms. What of you, Cal? The stack isn't split even."

"I was an X-Man." Cal explains. "And then I traveled realities fixing them. And now I'm here and Fate pushed me into a meeting with someone who should also be an X-Man since accidents never seem to be just accidents."

"Ah, see, I know what they stand for and even help if I get de chance but… " A shrug of his hands out to the sides as if that explains everything and Remy picks up another drink. "Not my gig, friend." A long draw of the cocktail and he tips his chin up to speak again, "So this is sayin' I believe you. Now lets pretend I don't believe you, who you know 'round dese parts? Who put you up to playing a prank on ole' Gambit?"

"You might think it's not your gig but you might be surprised." Cal suggests. "There's so many of us, so different from each other, that everyone influences everyone else. You bring something to the game very unique to you. A distinctive spice to the stew, so to speak, and so make it your own." At the question, he smiles and shakes his head. "No one. Doubt I could prove it to you either."

Reality not dimension. Though Cal's not going to try to explain the difference. "A pleasure to meet you here, Remy. You know how to get in touch with me if you need to. Or even just want to. Say dinner sometime, maybe." He lifts his glass in farewell then finishes it as he watches the Cajun leave.

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