Summary:
August 2nd, 2014: Remy discovers Black Cat with his bike after completing his own personal mission. The chase ensues.
Streets of NYC
Unnamed streets and roads of NYC.
Characters
NPCs
- Some incompetent cops
Mood Music:
[*<http://insert.video.or.music.link.here>]
Mission Impossible has nothing on Remy another twist and he sliding underneath the infrared laser and neatly avoiding a pressure plate. "Too good." He whispers to himself. It's a crawl forward and he finds himself staring face to face with the desk he is after, not the vault on the opposite wall that contains who knows what kind of undiscovered treasures.
Climbing atop the desk Remy sits there on a crouch, the book thumbed open in one hand as he uses a playing card to illuminate it. "Ah, dis good. Make some people real happy Remy found you." He whispers to the book as though it was a lover. Placing the book inside of his satchel he eases down off the desk and focuses upon that safe.
Outside, a block away underneath an overhanging canopy of a closed down storefront there lies a 2012 Harley-Davidson FXDC Dyna Super Glide… Remy LeBeau's own bike. It even comes with a bullet hole or five. Recent ones, ones he hasn't had pulled out and dents removed. Why hasn't it been repaired? Because it hasn't been in his possession, a certain kitten managed to get her claws upon it and left him to bleed out.
Safe forgotten the Thief makes a quick exit from the building even going so far as to leave a playing card underneath the window sil and then he's off, actually jumping from one building to the next, landing on the catwalk, scaling and vaulting another building with his extending staff.
"The things I do for other people…. " A sigh, though, he enjoys himself. He's not being a selfish cad, this is actually for others who are not paying him for once. It's sort of… refreshing. It is very much night time, full dark, a crescent moon sliding in to a half-moon, clouds patch the sky. It's got a nice breeze and it's not too hot nor too chill. Great times for a robbery.
Possibly at the same time he was stealing the book, she was making her own getaway. Zales, of course. Chocolate diamonds were the new fad, and she was clearly intent on cleaning the place out of them. Entry was easy and slick, she took the dumb criminal route and went through the ceiling, squeezing through ducts quick enough for the little dents in them to pop out, creating a clear racket even though no one was there after hours.
The ceiling grate was a tight fit due to anatomy, but she made due with a few scraps and scratches that stung and caused a wince. Dropping down, the cache was immediately taken, after a few jimmying of locks with her personal little kit. She didn't steal it all, she just wanted the chocolate, she even put one around her neck to test the style of it and left it there just because. Fun, fun fun times!
She didn't go out the way she came, her exit was hasty as well, and once she hit the pavement it was calm to her recently acquired Harley. Straddling the seat, she cranks it on, giving it a quick roaring rev, letting it idle for a moment to check her phone for a text. She was slow at her get away, yet bold, if the police were coming she'd let them chase, all for the thrill.
The roar, the waking up cry of one of his best most beloved friends is what causes the Cajun to stop in his race to security away from a possible threat up and to prison.
"Ro? Dat be you…" A increase in his run and he's able to get close enough to peer down from his rooftop getaway to stare down at his beautiful bike and the vixen upon it. "Ah, minou… " A narrowing of his black-red eyes and he tries to reposition nearer, he's too high up to just jump down and land on the seat like in a movie but…
"Seriously?" Felicia calls out loudly, her brows knotting in a little bit of anger. "Who the fuck sends dick pics?" Obviously, that guy. The image was pressed and deleted promptly, phone tucked within her belt as she fixes her black gloves firmly upon her fingers. Claws lightly tap upon the titanium, the Harley nearly out of gas. A quick fix really, cause a girl never leaves home without her black American Express.
Leaning the bike to the side so that she could flick the kickstand with her stiletto, she revved up the bike again, leaning forward with the intent to make her getaway. To the Speedway of course.
"Such language!" Remy calls out as he descends, he found a place to drop to the woman's seat, just off the hanging down BEST INDIE VIDEOS neon sign hanging above the storefront next to the place she just robbed.
A "hnf" sound escapes the man as he finds himself planted on the back of Felicia's seat, one arm wrapping quickly about her chest to grip down as the other clutches the bike. "'ello again, chere. I missed you almost as much as I missed my bike." Pretty obvious he has put two and two together, Miss Hardy didn't exactly mask herself last time they met and Gambit has an eye for measurements.
Sirens sound out several streets away, loud blaring warbles that indicate the police.
"Mus' be for you, Remy isn't that sloppy."
The call of her language causes her to look up, one brow lifted and immediately lowered as Remy drops right into the seat. It was perfect really, the positioning and accuracy really told of his character after all. With the extra added weight to -her- bike, she shifts just enough to keep it upright, both feet planted upon the ground as the phone is pulled out yet again due to it's vibrations. "Who sends a lady a picture like that?" She asks of Remy, uncaring of what she stole from him. "And.. I missed you too buttercup. I even followed you for days and made a shrine of you on my wall. So handsome.." She was kidding.
As the sirens began to blare, she glances back towards the direction of the sound, turning back to text upon her phone again as she murmurs quietly. "I'm not sloppy either. I'm just bored." With those words spoken, she waits until she sees the headlights before she takes off, the back wheel hydroplaning a bit against the cement, loud enough to alert the cops to their location and give chase. "Hold on tight."
"Eh." Remy glances at the phone briefly and makes a sour face, "Not Remy, that clearly not me." He does hold on tight, constrictor tight that clutch on her chest slipping down around her ribcage. "A shrine for me? That is flattering and only proper." He cranes his head just enough to peer over his shoulder and see the red-and-blue flashes coming around the corner.
"You got a interesting idea of fun, Yakuza shooting at you and now being chased by cops. Starting to think you had a boring childhood." Swallowing as she lurches forward and the bike rips across the street he murmurs, "Be careful with her, she is special to me."
She would have held the phone up to his face just to be sure, cause.. you never know. His tight grip causes her to grunt as she fixes herself upon the moving bike, her head constantly whipping back to gauge the distance of the chase. Two cars, one lagging behind and the other close enough for them to call out.
"PULL OVER! STOP THE BIKE!"
"You know, the Yakuza wouldn't have shot at us if you hadn't gotten yourself sorta kinda captured. Besides, hows you're arm doing?" There was a sharp turn, something a car would have made a wide berth to do, but not the Harley. She rode the terrain well, and handled like a beauty. "She's not a princess. She's a beast, and I'm treating her like she deserves. You have been treating her terribly, her roar is much happier when she's with me than with you." Or maybe, Felicia's on her way to wearing the poor thing down.
"Arm jus' fine, I got some good friends with hands like magicians." An intake of breath is given as she takes that sharp turn, "She be a beast fo sho but you… you drive like a maniac." He could be exaggerating a bit, Felicia is actually driving quite well, Remy is impressed even if he won't admit it. "I got shot only cause you wanna make a ruckus, quick in and out not something you seem to enjoy, minou likes de rough stuff."
Remy's hand releases from the side of the bike while pushing his chest in to her more, freeing up a limb so he can let fly a single card towards one of those incoming cars, it'll fly underneath the front of it and give out a low *POP* that will cause a swerve. Hopefully the driver is trained and prepared enough not to flip the vehicle or smash in to someone else. It's just a bump anyways. Not a full on destructive explosion. The Gambit doesn't kill, not if he can't help himself.
"I'd like to meet those types of friends. Could use a massage." The mention of her driving actually has her cackling, kicking up the speed just a little bit to gain a bit of a distance. His movements cause her to slow down just a touch, her neck craning to look behind her just in time for her to miss the throw of the card, but in time enough to see the vehicle jump and swerve. Thankfully, the cop maneuvers well, the car being saved by a crash into a fire hydrant that causes it to explode with a fount that sprouts upwards.
The second car was too far behind, yet the sirens remain a threat in the distance as they continue on the beaten path. "Who doesn't enjoy the rough stuff? There's passion in it. Desperation for the moment." Truer words have never been spoken by Felicia.
A few turns puts even more distance in between them and the cop, the end result leading the two underneath an overpass of the highway. Barrels lit afire to bring light to the area, a few scattered tents housing what used to be the city's homeless who are currently gathered in another area to enjoy the spoils of their latest dumpster diving finds. A few linger here and there, but they were wise enough to ignore the two, favoring their own situations instead of others.
The bike roars low, and was soon properly shut off and the kickstand erected to lean the bike upon. She lets out a quiet huff, hands still upon the bars to give a quick lean forward as a sign that she wanted him to let her go. "Pay the toll if you want to ride this ride, bub."
"Touche." Remy says in regards to her words of truth until they're safely in what looks like tent city. A haven for hobos. "You take me to de nicest places, chere."
A casual glance around and his hands release their grip on her and the bike and he tips his head to the side, "This rides my ride, you should be payin' me for lettin' you enjoy it."
"The best and only the best for you, love." Felicia grins as she gives him a little bump with her bottom, her hands finally releasing to check her gloves again with a tight pull down at the hems. "Touche, but I won it fare and square. You know, you hang around some serious bitches. That fight was totally uncalled for, and it hurt my feelings. I lost my shoes, you know? Five hundred dollar shoes.." She lightly smacks the bike, she didn't want to hurt the beauty more than it already was.
"So I think I paid my dues for this bike. She's mine.. I even named her and everything." There was a dramatic pause, not for effect, because she was searching for a name at the last minute. And she came up short.
"Ro ain't no one but mine." The bump of her bottom gets a grunt and he does not budge from the bike, Remy stays exactly where he is. "Dat fight had nothin' to do wid me, was you 'n her. You can easily by some new shoes with what you got with dat heist tonight, this here bike is one o' a kind. Nothin' else like her and she already been beat up real good since known you, you're bad for her health."
A frown crosses his features and he jabs a fingertip in to her hip. "C'mon now, minou, lets play nice like." He's learned that isn't how she plays but it's worth a shot. "Dun jus' come in and lay claim to a man's tings."
"We ain't dat far in to our lil relationship."
"Pish posh. I am not bad for her health. She loves me, and I love her." She bumps him again, but since he wouldn't move, she was going to make him as uncomfortable as she could in the meanwhile. "I'm not selling what I got, and how do you know I have something that's worth anything to anyone else but me?"
"I think we're far enough. Besides.. you seem to be only worried about the bike and not what was on it when I stole it. What's up with that?"
"Love? You hardly know her an' you dun seem the type for love at first sight." Remy counters and once again, doesn't budge. This is his bike. "Considerin' cops be after you, somebody else wants it."
"Dat be someone elses prey at this point and she none to happy you stole it. I figure that be her beef now, not Remy's."
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