2013.09.08 - What Happens in Vegas...

Bright lights, big city, that's all Las Vegas baby. Rogue had seen the sights of New York for a while, but nothing quite compares you to Vegas. It's all glitz and glam, with a thick layer of cheese on top (also literally depending on the restaurant options).
Rogue and Gambit were making their way down the strip, as Gambit just finished bragging about winning a poker game. Rogue wasted about $5 in slots, but gambled on a new black and red lacy dress, "If ah'm ever feelin' darin Ah should get a quick touch. See if Ah can pick up some of your poker skills. You have a real knack at readin' tells."
"It's de eyes, mon cherie," Gambit says, grinning roguishly at Anna. "Not de cards. You don' play yoah hand. Dat's how beginners who git lucky tink dey win. You play de oddah guy's hand," he explains, gesturing with his gloved fingers. "You git in his head. He bluffin'? He got a straight flush or a pair of deuces? You look at how he move, how he hold his glass, how he shuffle his cards. Best poker players in de world ain't lucky, dey better at doin' two things- countin' numbers an' guessin' bluffs. 'Less you a robot or a compooter or sumtin', you win nine time of ten 'cept maybe 'ginst de best in de world. An' Remy ain't lost much at de game," he chortles to the sky. He keeps his hands in the cavernous pockets of his Inverness jacket, winking at the pretty girls who pass by and letting the crowds get out of his way. Despite his roughshod appearance and the look of a man not having two dimes to his name, everywhere they go, the southern duo keep getting the high-roller look and treatment.
Little did the two know they were being stalked tonight. Well one of them was. That guy in the big overcoat and fedora they walked by as they left the last casino, that was the person after them. And as they approached the Excalibur on the strip. That suit of armor with the horns, missing its left hand and holding the big axe. That's the person after them.
For now the freelance peacekeeping agent is keeping his distance and observing. Being told that his target is dangerous, they wanted to see exactly how dangerous they were. So far it was just boring flirting and gambling. There was a reason they didn't usually do reconnaissance work.
A smirk spread over Rogue's lips as she considered his game, "Yeah, but what if someone was good at doin' /three/ things at the same time? Readin' faces, coutin', and fakin'. Ah'm crap."
She ran her fingers through her hair, pushing some white strands behind her ear, "Not that Ah ever have anythin' to gamble with. Now strip maybe. . ."
She tossed him a wink, "So where to next?"
Rogue also punched him lightly in the arm with a gloved hand, "Ah saw that. Ya flirt."
"Bien sur," Gambit says with an easy laugh, recoiling in mock pain from the blow. "You 'spectin' otherwise?" he asks the woman with a brazen and lopsided grin. "Foah all I know, you jes' heah foah a free ride to Vegas, den you roll Remy for his wallet an' head back east an' leave me high'n'dry. Gotta make sure ah ain't gotta spend my lil' road trip heah all alone, oui?"
He glances once behind them at a pair of women leaving a club. His eyes flicker towards the shadows, the gesture so minute it's easily missed. He reaches up with the back of his hand and gently moves it a hairsbreadth from Rogue's cheek, turning her face towards his without actually touching her. "So don' look, an' don' react," he says, still grinning for the observer's benefit, "but dere someone followin' us. You got anyone lookin' for you ah should be worried 'bout?"
And sure enough that weird suit of armor that was standing on the side of the sidewalk is gone. Having moved himself first down the alley and then flew himself up to the top of the replica of the Statue of Liberty. Their eyes zoomed in on his target using their internal sensor suite to confirm they had who they wanted.
Their instincts suggested they had been made, but more observation would be necessary. And with that, the pursuer prepared themselves for what would come next.
Rogue jumped slightly as a natural reaction to nearly being touched, but she keeps her cool, "No! At least, god Ah hope not. Hope someone isn't jealous of your winnings. C'mon."
She grabbed his arm and quickly turned into another casino. Rogue spoke quietly but with a smile on her face, "If Ah'm bein' followed, Ah want a good look at this jerk off."
This casino was similar to many of the others on the strip, jam packed with people and brightly lit. This one was Atlantis themed, as blue and green lights littered the place, along with borderline cheesy statues.
Remy nods approvingly at Rogue's quick thinking. "Good idea. Remy got a bad habit of duckin' down alleys," he confesses to her. "Bright lights an' all, who be stupid 'nuff to pull a hit in heah?" He makes a move for a corner of the room with Rogue in tow, but moves with a liquidity that belies his casual saunter. Remy /dances/ into the crowd, moving along with the unconscious beat and rhythm and the undercurrents and flows of people, and takes Rogue swimming with him. It's not deception and it's not trickey. Remy's just good at blending, when he wants to, and it would take a highly trained eye indeed to spot him swimming among the other fish in the sea.
In short order, he's got them sequestered with their backs in a corner, where they can see easily into the crowd but not be spotted by casual observers. "So, if he ain't after you, he after me," Remy declares with a grim expression. "Ain't exactly spoilin' for a fight, but be damned if I let him ruin a nice date on the town." He winks at Rogue and chucks her chin, careful not to touch her skin with his, and glances out into the throng. "Now, where you at, you sumbitch," he mutters, a pair of poker chips appearing in his hand.
Death's Head, the mechanoid freelance peacekeeping agent from the year 8123, has no officially become tired of waiting. He had watched them arrive outside the airport. He watched them go to bars and casinos. He would be -Damned- to -Mechanoid Hell- if he was going to wait for his target to mess around in another air condition purgatory of lost souls for an hour.
So it turned out, yes someone -was- stupid enough to try to pull of a hit inside a casino. Technically. But considering he was a 6'10 mechanized killing machine built with technology six millenia more advanced than current norms; in this case, -stupid- was relative.
It started out small. A lot of laughter at the front entrance. Then shouting. Then six more security guards were called to the front doors. Then he was there, camera like red eyes, red horns, tusks on either side of his face. Red cape, and an arsenal of weaponry on his back. He was missing his left hand earlier... and that has now been replaced with what looks like the barrel of a very large gun. He stalks through the crowd no longer caring who sees him.
And why should he, he's already remotely hacked into security's radios and told them it was all clear and plugged himself into the security cameras just in case. A computer virus would erase him from any video footage... and is targets as well.
It's kind of hard to miss Death's Head as he enters the casino. The screams alone became apparent, and then she saw the large mechanoid being. Once again she found herself missing Carol's powers. But she wasn't raised to whine, "Not exactly how Ah pictured this but . .. gonna need to borrow a little here."
She grabs the side of his face and gives him a hard kiss, just long enough to borrow his borrow his powers and skillset, without hurting him. She felt the words of her mother instruct tactical knowledge, "Let's spread out, we still don't know his target. It's too bad."
She reached down and ripped at the front of her dress, "Ah never get to wear pretty dresses."
Gambit swoons a bit. It's Rogue's powers. Mostly. Probably. "Damn, woman, you can kiss a man," he mutters, running his palm over his mouth reflexively. Remy staggers and holds a hand out, shaking his head, then boggles a bit as Rogue rips her dress off. "Dis... well, dis suddenly got a 'lot more 'citing," he says, offering a pale but wry grin. "We git outta dis, ah'll buy you anytin' you wanna rip yoah way out of."
Remy takes a breath, catching his balance, then goes flying out from the shadows, in the opposite direction from Rogue. He starts flinging those poker chips at Death's Head- it's a toss of at least sixty feet or more, with people screaming, lights whirling, and tons of motion.
Remy doesn't even make it look difficult, five chips in a row as fast as a person can count flying directly at Death's Edge cavernous skull, glimmering with untapped potential energy and the explosive force of a small hand grenade.
A mechanized voice came out of the 6'10" mechanoid (robot is a racial slur, yes?) It spoke English but with a heavy accent that almost sounded... Swedish? "*Attention all meatbags and wastes of space. What you are about to witness is a contracted 'performance' nothing is to alarm you, continue to gamble away all your money instead of doing something sensible like investing in low risk, high yield investments. I'm sure your infantile chances of making it rich without working for a living or managing money will pay off for you, yes?*"
Oddly enough, that seemed to calm most of the gambling crowd down, "*Rembrandt Etienne LeBeau, You are identified through genetic sampling. Oh yes, I'm supposed to say this: Bella Donna says 'hello.'*" And with that he started to fire from that gun on his left hand, it basically was firing a series of spheres of titanium at sub-sonic speeds.
Rogue was making her way silently through the casino with a small blush on her face, but when she saw a group of older women hiding behind some slots she whispered, "Ladies, get outta here and grab anyone else ya might see. SCOOT."
She hid behind a garish statue of Neptune, processing the wealth of skills and power sets, plus a bit of poker skills that she couldn't quite use at the moment. Especially considering their opponent had no face. For the moment she remained hidden, planning her attack.
Remy starts swearing. Loudly. In French. And he dodges the hail of titanium bullets, moving with an eerie and superhuman speed and grace. It's not easy, but when you're Remy, everything looks like it is. "Rogue!" he shouts, trying to keep to concealment and moving with a staggering sort of pace that's hard to follow. "He's a tunin' fork! Treat him like he a cryin' baby!" he shouts, in a mash of Creole and French. "I play de B'rer Rabbit, oui?" Sentient mechanoids are smart and dangerous, but they don't generally do well with cultural idioms or obscure mish-mash dialects that can barely be understood by anyone who's not raised in the culture that speaks them.
Remy pops up with a pair of steel spikes in his hands, glowing with unreleased energy. He throws one, then the other, directly at Death Head's skull. Again, it takes no particular effort to do so, even in mid-dive, the heavy throwing spikes flying through the air like projectiles loosed from a slingshot. Remy upends a card table and starts fast-crawling, fingers and toes, trying to draw the machine's fire without actually getting hit. He swears again, in Creole. Something about not wearing his armor? It's creative and lyrical, regardless.
Death's Head's translation software was a bit out of date. But it did translate well enough with his own set of personal experiences since coming to his time to get the gist of what Gambit was trying to say. And... there was also the fact that Death's head was not just a sentient robot. He was a mechanoid, designed to be sentient, his programming adaptive and learning. He may never grow past his own personality software: meaning he would always be a radical capitalist. But he could adapt to the situation.
The steel blades hit and explode and Death's Head does indeed cover his eyes and states, "*If you do realize I'm a mechanoid you do realize that I have internal sensors that are tracking you even if my visual receptors are not.*"
He started to aim his titanium shot gun and said, "Briar Rabbit is bad reference, yes?" The gun leveled on the statue Rogue was hiding behind and said, "After all, Bella Donna also said... and kill whatever bitch he is with, eh?" Another series of spheres are fired right at the statue Rogue is hiding behind.
Oh this is shaping up to be an excellent date. It seemed Gambit had some sort of jealous Ex, but Rogue never took well to being called a bitch.
After the statue was shot she jumped with Gambit's dexterity behind another large slot machine, and crouched low to the ground, and charged the floor.
Remy and Rogue are moving as one. Literally. Their motions are fluid and unpredictable, a combination of superhuman gifts and experiences that they now both share. When Remy slides under a poker table, he does so with the full knowledge that Rogue will vault a balcony. When she flings a handful of dice at Death's Head, he knows it's to create an opening for his own attack. It's not telepathy- it's just a perfect sympatico, a moment where two people are utterly entwined in thought and deed, and when you combine it with the legendary skills that make Remy Etienne LaBeau one of the most dangerous Alpha-class mutants on the planet, it makes for a terrifying duo indeed.
Just as the scatter of dice batter Death's Head, Remy launches a solid steel spike at a slightly less defended joint in the mechanoid's armor. The chunk of steel is fast, but not fast enough to penetrate 81st century armor.
That said, it's brimming with enough potential energy to pulverize an armored car. Armor and steel be damned, there's a reason that no one stands still long when Remy's got time to charge his heavy steel throwing spikes to full power. The raw potential energy it contains practically grates on Rogue's senses, her newfound instincts informing her just how /big/ that explosion plans to be.
Failing that, there's always the image of Remy strategically taking cover behind a heavy carved stone balustrade for a half second before the spectacular explosion.
After a few more shots from his gun. He dropped it off. It had run out of ammo at this point. He then reached behind him and grabbed something that looked like an elongated arrow head. That's when the first barrage of dice hit him. Again, the damage is not strong enough to harm him, he was created to withstand the inertia of travelling faster-than-light so this was little to him.
The distraction of the dice was however enough that Death's Head's own super-advanced reflexes cannot avoid the spike that hits him directly in his right shoulder. It then explodes and his entire right arm off,
"*I'm sending you the cleaning bill for this, yes?*" He then levels his left arm at Gambit, then fires it... and it doesn't hit Gambit instead goes past him. For a nanosecond Death's Head considers his options and then his feet breath out flame as they push him towards to Rogue's position quicker than she can react. His remaining left arm extends a blade that goes right into her stomach, "*Non-lethal blow.*"
"Death's Head pulls her up by the wound in her stomach and adds, "*But it adds pathos, yes?"
The spear that he shot out earlier, was targeted to Gambit's actions, if he went to help Rouge it would find it's mark in his left shoulder blade.
The benefit of Rogue's powers was that she could become perfectly in tune with whom she was borrowing from. They both moved in synch. Admittedly, it was strangely. . .fun. A word she didn't often describe with anything involving her powers. If anything at all.
Once Rogue was stabbed in the stomach she reached out and grabbed Death's Head's actual head with both hands, his entire head lit up like the fourth of July "Yeah screw you buddy."
She focused all of Gambit's power on his head, brushing past the pain and only fueling the adrenaline. At least she had some fun right?
Remy's fast. Fast thinker, fast mover, fast planner. And he's not above getting his hands dirty.
So when Rogue takes the gut hit, Remy /knows/ that she's gonna slap Death's Head in the face. He /knows/ that she probably doesn't quite have a handle on just how big that explosion will be. And he /knows/ that if anyone's gonna pull the two of them out of the fire, it's going to have to be him.
So Remy watches that spear fly at him, as if in slow motion. With that lazy, listless grace he does everything with, he turns and spins, taking the point of the spear across his shoulder, the spearhead ripping him open and spraying an arc of blood behind him. Accepting the wound as the cost of doing business, he flicks his bo staff into a vaulter's pole and leaps through the air, over Death's Head's shoulder, and hits Rogue at just the right angle to take her off the sharp end of that metal blade. From his perspective, several seconds of lazy, painful time have passed. He hits the ground, cushioning her impact, and rolls several times, putting his body between hers and Death's Head and screwing his eyes shut as he waits for the kinetic charge to erupt in what's going to make for a hell of a bang.
And after his head exploading, the body of the mechanoid seems to drop as if dead or defeated. A sudden burst of light occurs and the body of this mechanoid disappears. His severed arm and his exploded head the only proof he was ever there.
Rogue was pinned underneath Gambit as Death's Head exploded, and the rest of his body left the speed. Damn robots. Her gut was bleeding out, but she reached out and touched Gambit's face with a gloved hand, "Still was fun. Not. . .exactly how Ah wanted us to get into this position, though. "
She leaned her head back against the ground. Remy was safe, the people in the casino were safe. She was happy. Whatever was next would come. Rogue touched his well defined jawline, "Ya know, Ah really like you, Rembrant."
Category:Log