2014.04.26 - The List Prologue: Scarlet Arsenal

Place: New York - Queens - Lunair Weir's Apartment
Time: Sometime on a Friday
When you're a master thief, the temptation to avoid social niceties like knocking is very strong. Which is why, often Gambit doesn't even bother.
After having received the correct apartment number from a very friendly girl at the front desk, Gambit made his way unimpeded through the building, up the elevator, all the way up to the roof level. With a quick turn of his lock picks, no door is safe from him, and Lunair's is no exception.
As he sneaks into the apartment, he looks around to ensure that he is alone. Having determined that nobody is home, he moves on to the next phase of his plan: Snooping around.
Starting with the refrigerator, then the living room, and making his way through the entire apartment, Gambit becomes progressively more invasive the longer he's left alone. To occupy himself while he snoops, he alternates between singing and humming when he gets to parts of songs that he does not remember the lyrics to. "Foux de fa fa.... foux de fa fa fa faaaa.... hmHmHMMMMhm..."
"What's wrong with this girl? Don't any of her socks match?"
Although, there are signs a kitty lives there. He must be out and about or something. One of the study rooms is now a second bed room. Hmm. And most of her socks do match! Though, there is evidence of feline based mischief. An she has some odd sense of fashion. There's a laptop there and some textbooks. She's youthful, it seems. But he doesn't have too long to wait for Lunair. There's an ominous lock opening noise. The rustling of bags or something.
Then a click and the door opens. Is ... someone singing? Lunair's eyes widen and she leaves her shopping bags where they are. Time to commence slinking and find the - is that singing?
Apparently, Gambit is well aware of the cat's existence. If he weren't, he'd be literally the least observant thief in the world. More importantly, the cat is aware of Gambit, as it is currently perched on one of Gambit's trench coat-clad shoulders like a pirate's parrot. Gambit's boots are actually strewn about near the door, though whether he removed them to increase his sneakiness or to increase his comfortiness is open to interpretation. Regardless of the reason, he sits sideways on the blue couch with his back against one armrest and his shoeless feet propped up on the other. With the cat purring on his shoulder, and a newspaper in his hand (which he is currently solving the sudoku puzzle for), he looks very much like he owns the place.
"Apre chercher pour cette fille... cette fille de village... hm hm hmHm..."
It's true. And Hunter is a mighty, protective kitty! ... except when it comes to Gambit, apparently. Lunair's eyes widen, when she enters enough to see what is going on. "Um. Hi?" Stare. Her mouth opens, then closes. An eyebrow lifts. Her expression is one of complete, and utter disbelief. "I remember you. You cook chili really well," It finally hits her. But her heart is racing a bit because well, in her line of work, being surprised at home is a fast way of getting murdered. Still, seeing the cat perched on Gambit kind of makes her smile. Aw. That is cute. Deep breath. The last thing she wants is to have to fight in the apartment. And - is he - hey! He's doing the sudoku puzzle.
She just shakes it off after a moment. "So - why are you -"
Either the thought of an unpleasant welcome didn't occur to him, or Gambit is simply complacent enough to believe that he's welcome wherever he goes. Either way, he barely moves when the home's actual owner returns, contented instead with filling in numbers in spaces and wiggling his shoeless toes. "I do a lot o' things well, p'tite. But I'm glad you remembered, otherwise my being here might have been a bit awkward."
He sets the newspaper down on his lap, and reaches up to scratch the cat's chin. "I was just having a conversation with your friend here. You didn't happen to bring any beer with you, did you?"
And this fact baffles Lunair. Her eyes widen, still amused. She just has to quirk a smile. Normally she'd be out for blood, but there's something about it that just amuses the heck out of her. He's just that bold, huh? She shakes her head with amusement. "Yeah, normally I tend to be a bit more upset when people pop in like this. But Hunter seems to think you're okay," Lunair looks to the cat. "And um, I can't buy beer without a fake ID," She looks sadly to Gambit.
Hunter closes his eyes, purring as he gets a chinscratch. "I think we're out though, my roommate would normally be able to get some. Sorry. I can offer you some other drinks, but ..." No beer. "I don't think you're a sake kind of guy."
"Yeah... don't worry about it. It was a long shot." The cat apparently has enough scratching, and hops off of the mutant thief's shoulder, leaving Gambit free to swing his legs around and sit up straight, facing his unwitting hostess. "I didn't know you were so young though, that might complicate things a bit."
Having moved, the fabric of the couch is now clearly visible. Fortunately, despite his generally grimy-looking appearance, Gambit isn't quite dirty enough to have left behind dirt on the couch.
"Sorry." Lunair offers simply. Hunter gets a smile. Good kitty. She will reach over to pet him, kneeling to the floor. She looks up as Gambit faces her. "I'm 19!" She pouts faintly. Totally old enough for most stuff. "Er, what?" Then she looks confused. ... complicate thing? Her eyebrows lift.
Lunair is a bit distracted to be worrying about dirt on the couch. "Okay. May I get you anything to eat or drink? And I'd like - to know what's going on a bit?"
"I'm not really hungry. I had a cigarette earlier." He had it more than one, judging by the smell he tracked in with him. But he doesn't seem to have done any smoking inside. There's probably a small pile of cigarette butts out on the rooftop for her to find though, which should give her something to look forward to next time she's gardening.
"No need to sound so suspicious, there's nothing shady going on here. I just need to know if you still do the whole 'Techno-summoning' whatzit thing so that I can decide if you'd be a good fit to help me commit a very dangerous crime."
"Okay, if you're sure," Lunair nods. Although, she might be less than thrilled when she finds that small pile. She pauses. "Sorry. It's a hazard of the occupation, I guess," Lunair does seem genuinely apologetic. Even if she's slow to emote properly. "And huh? techno summoning? Do you mean the pulling weapons out of thin air? Yeah, I didn't lose that." She tilts her head at him.
"Cool. Cool." Gambit nods slowly. Although he is staring at the girl through burning red eyes, he actually looks rather mellow at the moment. Possibly the magic of nicoteine. "I don't think the job is going to require much of an arsenal, but just in case things get hairy I'd like to have some backup."
He slowly stands, brushing a bit of cat hair off of his shoulder. "So... want to make a shit ton of money?"
Headtilt. Lunair smiles at his words. His eyes are surprising, but she doesn't comment. She tends to work with unusual people a lot. "And got cha. I understand," Lunair definitely is sympathetic to that idea. She scritches Hunter between his ears. "That would be handy. What did you have in mind?" She asks, peering up. It has to be intense if someone like GAMBIT needs back up.
"Well see... I could tell you..." Gambit moves a bit closer, reaching his hand inside his coat. A slight twinge of pain crosses his face as he moves his hand toward his chest, apparently those bruised ribs haven't completely healed up yet. "... but it'd be much easier to just let you read for yourself." When he pulls his hand back out of the coat, there is a plain manilla folder in his hand. "This right here is your instructions. Got everything you'll need to know. And this here..." With the other hand, he reaches into yet another pocket, retrieving a cheap-looking black phone. "Is a regular ol' burner. It's how I'll keep in touch with you, and how I'll find out if you're in or not. I've got the feeling you'll be in."
"Just, you know, don't call me. I like being the one to call, makes me feel in control."
But then he'd have to kill- Lunair looks concerned at his twinge. "Are you okay?" She frowns. She looks quietly concerned. But she accepts the plain manilla folder. There's a nod. "Okay," Instructions. Got it. She peers and looks to the phone. "Noted." Pause. Then an amused look. "Okay. I won't call you," She promises. Lunair lets Hunter wander off. She peers to the folder and phone. She grunts softly. "Got cha. No calling, read thingy. Watch phone." Yes.
"Yeah, I'm good. I just need to head out, grab a beer and take a nap. You know, the same thing I always do before a big gig." As she's not well-acquainted with Gambit, Lunair may or may not know that those aren't the only things Gambit usually does before a big gig.
Leaving the goods behind, he wordlessly makes his way toward his shoes, which are pretty close to the door. As he bends over to put them on, he glances up at the woman he's intruded on. "By the way, you'd make a very handsome blonde."
"okay. Have a good afternoon," Smile, wave. Lunair seems pretty friendly, despite her odd mannerisms. Though, she quirks her eyebrows at him. "Um. Thanks. Everyone likes blondes..." She's not sure if she should be angry or complimented and sort of stares evenly instead. She goes with it, at least. Though, owch! Why is it always cute, busty blondes? How is she to compete? Alas. Either way, she lets him go peacefully and politely.
Category:Log