2013.12.30 - Time to Call the Experts

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Mutant Town - X-Factor Investigations
Stepping into the first floor of the small building that houses X-Factor Investigations is like stepping back in time. The wall facing the street is half glass, and the wainscoting beneath continues throughout the outer office. The upper walls are painted in a faded sepia, which only serves to enhance the feeling of antiquity within the space. Three wooden chairs line the left wall, and a plain wooden desk with an additional wooden swivel chair faces the windows on the street. There is no one at the desk, but there is a sign that reads 'Back in 5 minutes' propped up on the plain black rotary dial telephone. The expanse of the first floor is bisected by a wall with a door to the inner office.
The inner office fairly matches the outer, same wainscoting, same sepia wash. It's slightly larger, and houses a slightly larger desk as well. As with the outer furnishings, nothing in here looks exactly new, but it does seem to have a comfortable shabbiness. The desk faces the door, holding another black rotary phone and a small wooden box that hides network plugs. The chair behind the desk is padded, covered in brown leather with buttons tufting the backrest. It vaguely matches a Chesterfield that squats along one wall, beneath some shelves that seem almost purposely placed to subject visitors to the risk of a rap on the head. Perhaps that is to encourage people more toward the twin wooden slat-backed chairs that sit in front of the desk. The room also boasts three wooden filing cabinets, each with three drawers, and a few boxes tucked in a corner, open flaps showing books within. On the walls are three framed certificates of questionable origin, and an ancient wooden globe stands on one of the filing cabinets. Behind the desk and to the left, one third of the wall is an additional window, covered by venation blinds, which overlooks a small fenced courtyard behind the building.
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It's only been a few short days since Kwabena Odame ran into Fern Fiddlehead in Chinatown. During that chance encounter, Fern has been invariably drug into Kwabena's ongoing investigation regarding missing mutants of all ages. Given that one particular father to a missing mutant girl tried to shoot them, he felt it only right to keep her up to speed on what was going on. There's no telling what danger might come upon her should word get out, however false it may be, that she's involved.
Also, Kwabena has come to the conclusion that it's time to involve the experts at X-Factor.
Kwabena always enjoyed visiting Mutant Town. He might have ended up there, trying to make a life for himself, had he not come into ranks with the X-Men. Dressed casually in his civilian clothing -- jeans, a simple button up shirt, a black leather jacket, and the scarf, hat, and fingerless gloves necessary during the cold, winter months, he comes up to the building that houses X-Factor Investigations with Fern at his side.
"Man," he remarks as he reaches for the front door. "Dis place always feels like taking a step back in time. 'It was a dahk and stormy night...'" He pulls the door open, causing whatever chimes or bells that might be hung on the door to sound. "Dat sort of thing." He holds the door for Fern, letting her enter first.
Fern was a little surprised to get the call, but grateful for the concern of keeping her in the loop now that she might have (again) stepped into something. And she's always willing to help, especially someone who protected her from the bullets that were aimed their way. She's not mentioned what happened to anyone, not wanting to cause worry where none may be warranted, and she's pretty sure that, with things as quiet as they've been, Justin has given her 'keeper' some slack for the time being. 
Wearing her houndstooth coat, dark blue tights and black boots, she steps quickly to keep up with Kwabena, hurrying without real effort. There's a smile at the observation as she pauses, letting him get the door. "Yeah, it's very atmospheric. Makes me feel like I'm on set, and I should have some lines to say." She steps through with a quick thank you, looking for the duplicate she expects to see around. 
Well there is no dark and stormy night for Jamie, but there is definitely a hot lady involved, that's always a plus. Two of them actually first there is Fern, and the 2nd is Jamie's temp receptionist, hey finally decided to hire one! This one probably won't be lasting that long, indicated by how she greats the two new people, "What do you want? Are you here for Jackie?" The blonde receptionist says to the people as they enter the office.
And it is right after that, that the intercom buzzes, "Oh Bambi, you left the intercom on again dear. Also the name is Jamie not Jackie." Yup totally going to get fired at the end of the day, and no more temps for Jamie dang it. Intercom one more time, "Yeah whoever it is, feel free to come back to the office, just ignore the receptionist. She should be distracted by packing up whatever she brought with her by now."
Jamie himself is sitting behind his desk at the office. There is a glass of bourbon on said desk as well, cause hey the drinking PI is totally NOIR. He is leaning back in the chair, just waiting to see who has decided to pay him a visit.
"I would narrate," quips Kwabena, "But I don't think dey would ahppreciate de accent."
The African turns his attention to the temporary receptionist, and patiently observes as the conversation is drawn to that of the intercom. Gradually, one of his eyebrows lifts skyward, and a knowing look is presented Fern's way. He walks right past the front desk, casually shifting his attention toward Bambi. "I hear de MTA is hiring bus drivahs," he remarks, trying to be helpful, but he just... can't... keep the snark from his tone of voice.
MTA drivers have a reputation for being rude and unhelpful, after all. How many times had one of their late night busses ran right past him when he first got here?
It is that snark that draws a well concealed wince to his face, one he quite intentionally keeps away from Fern's point of view as he leads the way into Jamie's office. As he walks in, he eyes the fellow with a look of long missed familiarity. "Madrox, you dog. One of those dupes needs to do bettah at reading resumes." He walks over to the desk, offering his hand in greeting. "How've you been?" He takes a step away, motioning toward his counterpart. "Fern Fiddlehead. Jamie Madrox, P.I."
And he tries really hard not to hum the Magnum P.I. theme song inside his head, and fails. Miserably.
So, sometimes, taking on new clients for her moonlighting job as Arm Candy Bodyguard gets complicated. After one disastrous event where her support folks gave her far too little intel, Heather has taken to investigating potential clients far more closely. It turns out that one potential client.. a Mark & Mark Industries had an article in the paper about an investigation that was done into some of their practices. The X-Factor Agency was named as one that looked into the company. So, from the Horse's mouth so to speak.
Heather sets out in her Heathermobile (which is just a powder blue Priuss truth be told) and sets her GPS to the address on file for the Investigation company. A bit later, she pulls up in front of the place. Mutanttown doesn't really worry her. For that matter, not much worries her anymore... but it's not every day that a cover girl just walks out of a car and strolls up to the front door of X-Factor Investigations... or is it? Beautiful women seem to be entirely appropriate for PI's. Maybe this one even has a Fedora? Heather hopes so!
Fern is only mildly surprised to see someone other than a dupe in the reception area, and when the name is said as Jackie the young woman even looks around, as if making sure they're in the right place. Then Jamie's voice comes, and Fern tries to hide her amusement. Some people just aren't suited to some jobs. The look Kwabena gives her is returned with a light shrug, and she follows the tall man to the inner office. 
Fern waits for the men to exchange greetings, then steps forward herself, offering her hand to Jamie. "Hey Jamie," she says easily, "How are you?" Fern doesn't know everyone in the city, honest. Just the important people. She's left the door open behind her, and when she steps back again there's a clear view to the outer room. 
There is indeed a fedora, Jamie isn't wearing it currently though, but it's totally sitting on his desk. The PI does smile when the two people enter, hey the day just got better, "Temp agency. They sent her over, one of my Dupes has already found out that she is the Owner's Wife. She wants to work or something to feel useful." Obviously she is only arm candy for the owner.
"I usually use a dupe, but well decided to try and get more professional once I started to expand my operations here." He really needs to hire a full time receptionist, maybe one of the graduating students at the school will be willing to do it. "So what brings you two here? Social or Business?" He says that and takes a sip of his bourbon.
When Heather walks in she'll see the fired receptionist packing up everything she can, muttering under her breath about getting fired again. She sees Heather, "Just go to the back office." She obviously doesn't care that Jamie has people already in his office.
And then after all of that, Heather pulls the door open. She did notice the other folks heading inside, and gave a few seconds of delay for the sake of politeness. But assuming there's a bell, or some sort of announcement that the door opened, she steps inside to the front area and simply offers a smile to the receptionist while stepping over to one side. Her plan? Wait patiently while other folks talk business. After all, she's not here to poke her nose into other peoples' business.
With a shrug, Kwabena seems to suggest he's not particularly worried about the particulars. "Sign of de times, I guess," he answers. If Jamie's getting busier, that can only mean there's more need for his services, which could be a good or bad thing depending on one's point of view!
Briefly, he glances toward the doorway to Jamie's office, hearing something else in the main area. However, he seems to pay it no mind for the moment, though he becomes a bit more conscious about what words he chooses. "Business," he answers, perhaps with a touch of melancholy. "I've been looking into some few things. Disappearances, seemingly legitimate but... dere's a common denominatah." He probably doesn't even need to say it. Instead, he retrieves a thumb drive from his jacket -- not exactly the manila folder that might be expected in the office -- and sets it down on Jamie's desk.
"Thing is, I've spoken with some few of de missing peopah's family membahs, and dose convahsations haven't gone well." He casts a glance to Fern. "One of dem, a parent, tried to shoot us aftah I asked him about his missing daughter."
Fern is oblivious to the arrival of someone else in the outer office, and her eyes stay on the two men. She doesn't attempt to add anything until the shooting is mentioned. "Wrong place at the wrong time," she offers, almost apologetically.
Eyeing the receptionist, or... soon to be -former- receptionist, Heather may be blonde and young, but she doesn't really have any sympathy. Anyone who can screw up such an easy job as this... she shrugs and peeks towards the office door. Instead of just going back, she heads to the intercom and presses the button. "Mister Madrox. I am a potential client in your lobby. I do not wish to intrude, so I thought I might inquire if it was a good time to enter, or if I should continue to wait? I am happy to do either." she says that into the intercom and then turns it off. Yes, she knows how NOT to transmit at times too.
Jamie blinks at what Shift says, oh this is definitely something for him to investigate. "I'm in." He reaches over and takes the flash drive, "Anything else I should know, besides the fact that I may get shot at?" Hey that's what dupes are for you know. He'll have to take a look at it later, he does have someone else waiting so doesn't want to have anything on the screen when they come in. And hey this also sounds like something he can get the team involved in, total score there.
"When you talked to the parents, how did they seem? Were they upset or did they seem different?" Hey shooting at people investigating their kids disappearance is something that is very strange indeed. Jamie leans back in the chair after that and presses the button on the intercom, "You can come in miss."
Upon the thumb drive will be everything Kwabena has collected on those missing. Names, addresses, public documents downloaded from civil court websites, the whole shebang. However, while they all seem to lead to one specific place -- a mental health facility in Las Vegas, Nevada -- there are some disconnects.
"Upset... might... be an undahstatement," Kwabena answers. "More like, angry. Angry that I was even asking." He takes a few steps around the room, visibly bothered by what he's experienced. "I've seen it before," he explains.
However, there's a break in his dialogue when he hears Heather's voice on the intercom. There is a familiarity to it, one he can't exactly point out with specifics, but it's a voice he's heard before.
"Narcotics trade," he continues. "It's de kind of actions you find with someone who doesn't want to talk about what dere into, because dere's a proverbial gun pointed to dere head. Dese people are being blackmailed. Dat's what my gut's telling me. Why else would you try to shoot someone who is asking about your daughter? In broad daylight, in de middle of Chinatown?" He shakes his head. "Dat fathah was scared out of his mind. He didn't want me asking anymore questions. Someone's responsible for dat, and I don't think it's his wife."
Fern watches Kwabena pace, brows drawn together. She looks toward the intercom at the new voice, then takes a step back, turning so her back isn't to the doorway. As she swivels her head back to the men, she ventures with a touch of consternation, "Way to not make people suspicious." 
Okay. Come on back it is. Heather pushes the door open and steps inside, one hand moving a stray lock of honey blonde hair out of her face. One of these days she's gonna just shave her head! Yeah, that'd make the Victoria's Secret people choke, wouldn't it? At least it would stop the... adult magazines from calling... well, for maybe a week. At least she finally has an agent who has learned... when they call, just hang up on them.
She steps into the room though and slows to a stop. "I do hope that I am not.. intruding." she remarks softly, "I had hoped to ... benefit from some of Mister Madrox's previous work."
"That's what I figured." The man says to Shift, yeah definitely something strange going on there. "I'll definitely look into it and probably have some of the team help as well." Hey this is where Lilith will come in handy, maybe she can read the minds of the parents and they can see what is going on with them. "What's the best way to get in touch with you when I find out anything?" Hey a real case for X-Factor that doesn't involve a cheating mutant husband or something like that, score!
The man turns in the chair to look at Heather, now this is the type of client he expected to get when he started the agency, she looks like they did in the movies dang it, "Which work would that be?" He the dupes do a lot of cases for him as well, so well he has a lot of memories rattling around in there.
Grinning, Heather shrugs her shoulders, glances to the others before turning back to Jamie. "Well, your agency was listed as having done an investigation into the company, Mark & Mark Industries." (OOC Note: CEO's son is a mutant, was enrolled in Xavier's but pulled out before ever even going there. CEO worries for kid's safety and all). "They were trying to hire my agency for security and I... well, I've had bad experiences working for companies that I didn't thoroughly Vett beforehand... so thought you might be willing to divulge anything that was not covered by any confidentiality agreement."
A smirk is fired Fern's way. "No kidding."
Looking back to Jamie, Kwabena retrieves a small card from his jacket pocket, handing it over. "Here." On the front it simply reads: 'D&P Import-Export, LLC'. On the back, there is a cell phone number, New York area code. "Use dis." He seems to contemplate something for a moment, making a point not to look at Fern as he does. "And if an emergency comes up, you can use de X-Net. I've also given what material I have to Matt Murdock, over at Nelson and Murdock Law Firm." A hardened expression comes into his mis-matched eyes. "If we're able to uncovah what's going on, de victims are going to need propah protection."
And he's got a feeling Murdock will have his work cut out for him.
Now, Kwabena casts a look Heather's way. He recognizes her fully now, and bows his head in a manner of greeting while stepping away to let her conduct her business. "Ma'am," he offers. Soon thereafter, though, his brow creases in thought.
Mark & Mark Industries... hmm... that sounds awfully familiar...
The blond that enters is familiar to Fern, although they've never actually met. The young redhead knows the model from both their involvement with The Gifted Foundation, and she nods to the woman with a smile. The term 'X-Net' goes completely over her head, but she's heard of the law firm before. She's heard of a number of law firms since starting to work for Justin Hammer. With nothing to add, she listens, hands stuffed into the pockets of her coat. 
Rogue came into the office as one of the dupes informed her that they were in the middle of a meeting. She glanced in and saw a familiar face among the group.
She walked up to the door and gave it a light knock, "Got room for one more? And howdy there, Shift! Been a long time."
Jamie thinks for a moment about the request, "Sorry I don't remember working for Mark Wahlberg." Okay the joke had to be made, anyone who knows Jamie should have expected it. "Not sure what I can tell you though, there is some confidentiality involved in my line of work. I know the owner was worried about the safety of his son, enough that he refused to send the kid to Xavier's." That may give some indication about the people, but hey if word got out that Jamie is spilling the secrets of his clients he will find out that he doesn't have any, anymore.
He takes the card from Shift, "I will let you know what we find." And it's at that moment that Rogue enters, "Ladies and gentleman, I would like to introduce you to my associate, Rogue. Who I know one of you knows at least." He takes another sip of the bourbon, "Rogue, Shift here has hired X-Factor for a case. Either you or Lilith will be needed for it. People aren't revealing stuff they know and we'll have to get the information somehow."
When Rogue comes in, Kwabena suddenly acts as if he's seeing a long lost friend. A broad grin breaks the consternated look on his face. "Rogue!" He walks over toward her, reaching for her clothed shoulder with a strong hand. "Damn good to see you, kid." He squeezes her shoulder for a moment before taking a step back, looking her over to make sure she's holding up okay. For his part, he's looking a hell of a lot better than he did when she last saw him, after his imprisonment in Latveria.
He asides to Fern, "Nickname." He can't recall if he'd introduced himself to her using his real name, or the codename. Jumbled memories and all.
When Jamie brings Rogue up to speed, he nods toward a thumb drive left with Jamie on his desk. "All de information I've got is in dere," he offers, before looking back to Jamie. "I've got a train to Smallville booked in de morning. Tracked down one of de missing to a family dere, lives in de bad part of town so hopefully I'll be able to strike up a chord with dem." He casts a look Fern's way. "But Fern, I want you to keep your eyes peeled while I'm gone. I don't know if Mistah Lee plans on coming aftah eithah of us, but... just... be careful."
Fern steps aside again as Rogue enters, the movement automatic even if not needed in the space of the office. She watches the exchange with interest, trying to make mental notes about everyone that she'll remember later. "Hi," she offers, before her smile sobers, looking toward Kwabena. There's a nod of understanding, "I'm sure I'll be alright, but I'll keep aware of what's going on around me." Hopefully the company she tends to keep will help, with a lot of her friends having some sort of abilities. Still, she's not a name yet, nor generally recognized, so she can still fly under the radar a lot. 
Rogue beamed at Shift and nodded, "Lookin' great hun, real glad to see you on your feet."
She looked to Fern for a moment, something about her looked really familiar. Rogue smiled in greeting to Fern, "Hi there."
But she chuckled at Jamie's de-briefing and moved to lean against one side of his desk, her arms crossed in front of her chest, "Mysterious job with little to no details? Sounds like us."
"Missing people?" asks Heather, I mean, she was invited into the back room that is quickly growing a bit more crowded. She steps aside and leans her backside against the edge of Jamie's desk. "Seriously, people going missing is a bad thing, especially young people." She narrows her eyes a bit, the reunion of Shift and Rogue not unnoticed. She doesn't have a lot of friends that she can greet -that- openly, that enthusiastically. Well one, but she's always busy too. She reaches into a pocket and pulls out a business card that reads: TITANS. Laying that on the desk, she says, "Perhaps there is some way I can offer a trade out. I help you, you help me?" she asks Jamie.
Okay Jamie can't help but notice the nice backside that is now leaning against his desk. Hey he's a straight man dang it, they notice these things. "Totally are type of case, we'll split up and start talking to the parents. Maybe I'll have to find another telepath to help us." Hey good exscuse to recruit someone else that he's been thinking of asking to join the group.
Jamie thinks for a moment as he looks at Heather, "I'm sure we can work something out. Do you have anything in mind for that?"
Rogue's compliment is answered with a half-cocked smile of gratitude. However, he says nothing more of it... in the back of his mind, he's still considering the name of Heather's client and what Jamie mentioned about the Xavier Institute. Fern's answer is a welcome distraction, and he nods his head to her. "Well, just keep my numbah on speed dial, Fern," he advises her. "Jamie's, too. Can't be too cautious dealing with dis kind of shit."
Mysterious job with little to details? What a moment!
"Hey now," defends Kwabena, bearing an expression of mock-insult on his face. "Dere's a lot of infahmation in dose files!" He points at the thumb drive accusingly, before wiping the look from his face. "And too many damned loose ends," he adds more seriously. Hey, sometimes the best way to address a dark and dangerous situation is to make light of it.
Sometimes.
Heather's interjection further punctuates the severity of what has been uncovered so far. He's piecing a few things together on this one, but out of respect for the confidentiality of Jamie's clients, he's keeping quiet about it. "Young people, old people. All metahuman, mostly X-Gene, but not limited to," he clarifies. And while doing so, his mis-matched eyes are closely (and unashamedly) studying Heather for any signs of reaction to that revelation. He steps back to the corner of the room after a moment, sticking a hand casually in his pocket and looking between Heather and Jamie curiously.
"Well, I've got training in personal security, recognizing threats before they -become- threats. Close combat, I'm pretty good. Also... good at acting. If we have a situation where we think someone may be taken, I could ham it up and become the kidnapee. Only problem, things like...implanted tracking devices don't work so well with me. My body tends to spit'em out." she remarks as she looks around the room and admits, "I heal real fast." Yeah, likely the first thought on a few minds is Logan. She never met the man, so doesn't have the frame of reference to offer his name.
As Fern listens, she notes that the targets are all 'gifted'. She's probably the most normal person left in New York City, for an aspiring actress. "I'll make sure you're both programmed in," she promises. She's way out of her league here, but she does sometimes see things in ways others don't, and she's involved by chance to some small degree. And if anything threatening happens, she has certain additional resources, as well. 
Rogue snaps her fingers, "Fern! Fern Fiddlehead. Leo's mentioned you a bunch."
She coughed, not exactly relevant to the situation at hand. So Rogue put back on her super serious investigator face, "Ah'm sure we can handle it. And I was only teasin', stud."
So much for being professional.
Jamie chuckles at Heather, "Well I have most of those as well, except for the healing thing." Hey at this point what hasn't Jamie done. "But you may have something that can be needed. I'm sure we can figure something out." Maybe Gar can get some kinda tracker that looks like a piece of jewelry. "Now comes the real question, what do you want from me? Or do you just want more information about your current client?"
He assumes that's all she wants, but hey she may need his agency again in the future. "Rogue, remember Noir. We have to keep up the appearances." As he says that he reaches for the fedora and puts it on, "See?" Okay he is joking a little but it's entirely fun.
A rueful smirk is flashed Rogue's way. He sure has missed that southern attitude of hers. Reminds him of the old life, before all of the complications that came with being an X-Man.
Heather's suggestion earns another thoughtful look. If anyone really knows Kwabena, they'll know that he's plotting something. Worse yet, he's not speaking up about it, and that certainly means trouble.
To Jamie he looks next, eyebrows shooting up into the air. "Hey, if it's Noir we're doing, dat means I can smoke in here, right?" In fact, he's already got a pack of smokes and a beat up, old zippo in hand, with one cigarette perching out of the box ready to be snatched up.
He's still not speaking up about what he's plotting, but he's got an eye bouncing between Heather and Rogue even as he lifts the pack of smokes to his teeth, biting the filter and lifting it free.
Fern blinks at Rogue's fingersnap, looking surprised when Leo's name is mentioned. She has no idea what might have been said, Leo would have been well within his rights to not be at his most kind. "Um... yeah..." she says uncertainly, hoping for the best. It's a relief when things shift focus back to the issues at hand. Noir? Wait, what? 
Rogue looked down at Jamie with a smirk, "Ah'm all for Noir, but Ah'm only wearin' that dress if we are out on the town."
And she quirks a brow at Fern's reaction. Interesting.
"Oh, I just need to make sure that these folks aren't doing some crazy underhanded criminal activities and hiring me to keep those safe from intrusion. I've... had a similar experience in the past that I would like to avoid repeating. So now I look a bit more deeply at potential clients to make sure that I am not protecting the asses of the world from their own greed and stupidity." offers Heather. She shrugs and meets Kwabena's eyes steadily. Not the sort of gaze one sees on the shrinking violet types, that's for sure.
The pack of smokes however, makes her nose wrinkle up. "You smoke, I assume you're on fire, and take all appropriate measures to put you out." she offers with a sweet grin.
The door jangles, and a lean Cajun strolls in. Screw the noir thing, Remy's got the classic bad boy look- he's /already/ smoking, the skirts of his long coat kicking around his calves. 
"Yo, Kwa!" the Cajun says, stubbing out the cigarette a few steps into the room. He blinks, a bit taken aback at the crowd. "Shit, y'all holdin' a party? Hey darlin'," he tells Rogue with a cheery grin and a wink. The Cajun jams his hands into the deep pockets of his duster, looking around the group with those deep scarlet eyes. "Folk oughta gimme a call if yer gonna bust out th' hootch an' play detective."
He chuckles at Shift, "Sorry this is a no smoking office. Too much pressure these days to make sure people don't smoke indoors, the last thing I need is the anti-smoking nut jobs to start coming after me. Man those people are totally scary." Totally true too, just watch the South Park episode with them. "I can tell you that they are no doing anything criminal, at least not that I could find. He was worried about his son, and wanted me to look into stuff for him. But well at the time there were no leads for me to go off of."
He looks at the other new comer, "Man I think I need a bigger office or something. Or at least a meeting room. Rogue we totally need a meeting room!" AKA a place where Jamie is going to hide and take naps at.
Heather gets a look from Kwabena. One of those 'are you serious?' looks. That being said, he slowly guides the cigarette back into its pack, releasing it from his teeth and settling it with a little shake of the pack before slipping it back into his jacket pocket. "Wouldn't want to make a mess of your office," he remarks on Jamie's bahalf.
Boy, Shift and Heather sure are getting off on the right foot!
Now, once Gambit comes in, Kwabena finds himself scrunched up between Fern, Rogue, and Heather. Not that this is a bad thing at all, mind, though the hot-tempered red-head he's been seeing would probably take issue with that (and possibly wipe his brain of his ability to read or something). Soooo... he considers the whole predicament, and before he can brush hips with any gorgeous women, his clothing pretty much falls to the floor.
Which is normal around Kwabena.
Why?
Because he's turned into a cloud of smoke that is rising toward the ceiling. Within the thick tendrils, his face appears, and his voice has taken upon an airy note. "Here, let me make some room for you. Don't forget to toss the hootch my way." Curious how his accent seems much less poignant when he's not, exactly, flesh and bone.
Probably anyone who works for the man except Fern would suspect Heather to be talking about Justin Hammer. The young redhead remains oblivious. Her head swivels at another new voice, eyes finding the man in the long coat, noting the greetings and the color of his eyes briefly as they pass. There's no surprise at them, considering the present company. 
She sidles over toward Kwabena, blinks, and looks up at... smoke. Absolutely. "I should get going, I have a meeting with my agent soon. I'll call you or Jamie if I need, and you call me if there's anything I can do." Her own eyes wander now, touching briefly on each, "Nice to meet you all." Most, she's skirting out before the last introduction could be made, but she's a tiny guppy around much bigger fish. Time for her to skedaddle, and she slips through the open door. 
And now here comes Gambit. Awesome bad boy image. Cute looks and... gah, smoking. Well, so much for -any- chance Heather will flirt with this one. Well, maybe a little bit. Okay, so she can't help but flirt a lot with anyone who is cute, but ew, smoker!
Heather chews on her lower lip and reaches absently for a bottle of water on the bar's counter. And then... clothes fall, Shift turns to smoke, "Hey, that's cheating." says Heather. "I was kidding about you -being- smoke!" And she reaches to try to snake the cigarette from Gambit's lips. The plan is to grab it and drop it in the water bottle, closing it up again.
Rogue grinned at Gambit as he entered and gestured towards his cigarette, "Hey there handsome, talk about timing. Can't smoke in here. We should all just have one outside! More room out there anyway..."
She chuckled as Shift turned to smoke. Well this afternoon was turning out weird but delightful. Ah to be an X-person. "Folks for anyone not in the know this is my friend Remy. Showed him the office just the other day, Jamie."
Remy leans back a quarter inch as Heather makes a grab for his cigarette, which he stubs out into his palm and makes vanish. With a featherlight grip he takes Heather's hand in his and brushes his lips across her knuckles. 
"Bonjour, belle dame. Avez-vous venez souvent ici?" he inquires in fluent French with that strong, drawling Creole accent to it. He reaches over to Rogue with a grin and gently chucks her chin, then underhanded, slings a flask from nowhere at Shift. 
"So, what we doin'?" Remy asks of the group, moving to hop onto the nearest convenient horizontal service. He produces another cigarette from nowhere and tucks it in his lips, but pointedly doesn't light up.
"Hi Remy, I'm Jamie Madrox, owner of this place." Man he may have to go on another game show to a bigger place or something. He looks at Heather, "Oh if you're going to start a fight in here over smoking, let me know so I can leave. The room is already crowded enough as it is." Most of the people in the room will get what Jamie is getting at. "So Heather, is the information that I gave to okay for what you needed? I can dig deeper into them if you want me to."
Jamie stands up and goes over to his bar, he needs another bourbon, "Anyone else want anything to drink?" He waits by the bar to see if anyone else does want anything.
Chuckling as she's turned from cig-grabber, to Remy-greeted, Heather shakes her head. "Okay, you -are- good." she remarks to Gambit before looking back to Jamie. "That's all I needed really. I just wanted to make sure I don't get burned again y'know? Nothing like protecting some skeezy arms dealer because you didn't do enough homework to make you triple check everyone else in the future." With the cig snag foiled, Heather shrugs and sips at the water, "No need for a drink, but... you're not hiding like a hoagie anywhere back there are you?" she asks, "I'm famished."
Aw. And here Kwabena was hoping he might get to hang out by the ceiling for a while.
"See you, Fern," calls the whispy voice, before the smoke gains some mass and falls back to the floor. It all collects into his clothing, unfolding it and putting it generally back in the right place before a sound of displaced air signals the reforming of flesh and bone. The shirt is a bit crooked and it's only partly tucked in, so he holds up a hand to excuse himself and turns around, fixing it all up and making sure, you know, everything is in its rightful place, before coming back around again.
Just in time to snatch the flask from mid-air.
"Well, I wouldn't be opposed to stepping outside for a smoke," he remarks, along with a flash of his eyes Rogue's way. "Getting too stuffy in here anyway." The flask comes up to his lips and he takes back a hearty snort, before screwing the cap on with a thumb and whinging it back Gambit's way.
Now, his attention moves over toward Jamie and Heather. "If you two do happen to find anything funny going on with dis fellow, let me know," he offers. "I've got no shortage of people in de criminal world who owe me some few favahs." Plus, he's got that itching feeling at the back of his skull that something is out of place here. But, it's just a feeling.
Now, he reaches one more time for that pack of smokes, and with a tilted eyebrow toward those who seem willing, he nods his head toward the front door curiously.
Rogue grabbed one of the beer's she bought from Jamie's bar, and slipped a clove cigarette into her mouth, "Ah could use one. Would like to catch up with my boys. You folks can join too, and get some 'fresh' Mutant Town air."
With a laugh, Rogue headed out towards the front door.
Jamie looks at the departing smokers, "I'm going to stay in. Start going through all the information that I have on this USB drive, see what I can find out from there. Rogue I'll call you soon once I have an idea of where to go from here." Basically he'll ask her what she thinks will work cause Jamie can't make decisions to save his life. "Heather, I'll give you a call as well if there is anything you can help us with. Sure I can think of something."
Remy goes to follow the crowd outside, lighting up the second he's outside the door, and falls in step with the rest of the group. "So any hot cases y'all investingatin'?" he inquires of the remainder of the group.
"Jamie." Kwabena turns to the investigator with an earnest look before flicking him a two-fingered salute off the brow. "Thank you for dis. I'll keep you up to speed with what I find in Kansas."
And then he's following along with the others, quickly flicking the cigarette to life on the flame of his zippo before offering the beat up old thing to Rogue.
"Yeah," he says to Remy, moving so that he's facing the two of them with his back to the passersby on the street outside. His words come pointed and focused, spoken like a man familiar with controlling the volume of his voice so that prying ears might not hear. "Bunch of missing metas. Mostly X-Gene. Adults, teens... children. Smells like some kind of government conspiracy is involved, gotta tread carefully."
Rogue lit up her cigarette and took in a long drag, she hadn't had a cigarette in hours so it was a welcome release. She downed it with a swig of beer, "You know, Remy we still got openings at X-Factor. If you wanted an in as freelance you staff you just met the boss-man."
Not that Jamie particularly acted bosslike. She was glad the place was completely casual, but they got the job done. She looked over to Shift, "And you! Hey put me up to speed, everything all good since that nasty business in Latveria? Real glad to see yer face again. Should give you my number."
She rifled through her pockets and found a fancy new X-factor business card with her mobile number on it.
"Been thinkin' it time t' cut back my hours at de Institute," Remy says in that agreeable/noncommital tone, puffing like a chimney. "Gettin' bored with cookin' breakfast fer a buncha kids all de time. Maybe make it a weekend thing- git back into doin' some real challengin' stuff," he agrees with Rogue. "Y'all got an openin' ah kin fit in?" he asks Rogue, eyes twinkling.
A short laugh is granted, and it's just filled with sarcasm. "Oh, nothing but good times," Kwabena answers Rogue. "Got clean off Doom's nanite drugs just in time to have Magneto burn 'em to a crisp, and dat was before dey inserted me as an undahcovah agent in Genosha. That... didn't turn out so well." Meaning that if it hadn't been for a particular cease fire between the X-Men and the Brotherhood, he'd have likely been atomized.
Again.
"But don't worry, de fun didn't stop dere. Some psychopath going by 'Mistah Sinistah' turned some few people into horrible mutations of demselves. Probably read about dat one on de news. Once we managed to deal with dat, I decided it was time to get back to more normal things. You know, hunting down whoevah is stealing dese kids, bust some few heads, land some few assholes in prison." He shrugs noncomittaly, reaching for Rogue's card while puffing away at his cigarette.
After eyeing it for a moment, he tucks it into his jacket. "I'll text you from mine. Don't go giving it out dough, it's my real numbah. Not de one I give to mooks. Blocked from NSA and everything. All dey see when dey go through my texts are messages re-scrambled to resemble sexting. Loads of entahtainment, I'll tell you that."
Then he looks over to Gambit with an expression of mock disappointment. "Ah man. You mean we'll stop listening to fifteen year olds complaining about heartburn all de time?"
Rogue rolls her eyes at Gambit's half answer. That's all she could ever get from the man, half answers. She's going to call him out on that one of these days, "Ah'll have a chat with the boss-man. Thieves tend to come in handy, ya know?"
She shifted her attention to Shift, "Ah didn't see you in Genosha! Well then again it wasn't exactly a small island. And Ah left before some of.../that/ happened. Sorry that happened to you, hun. Real sorry. But yeah aint gonna share it, no problems there. But this sexting though. Always acceptable."
She winked at Gambit, as he might have received a few bikini pictures in his phone.
"Ah jes' sen' out pics of Shift's mom," Remy jibes casually. "NSA don' wanna look twice at dat," he clarifies for Rogue's benefit. "Bet dey like lookin' twice at some of my inbox, tho'," he adds with a crooked grin. 
"Jes glad we're all quit and done with Genosha," he adds dismissively. "Let Magneto rot dere wit his own lil' world. Ain't gonna ever see me there agin'."
Shift just shrugs a bit. "Well, I was laying pretty low. You don't betray an Omega class mutant and den take a piss in his backyard before uploading de video to YouTube. I take it as a compliment we didn't run into each oddah."
And then, Gambit makes a jab at his mom. He nearly ignores it, aside from jerking a thumb toward the cajun. "It's back and forth like dis. I think it all started with some old SNL joke. Somewhere, some NSA geek with a thing for ugly, old hags is jerkin' it daily to pics of Remy's mom. Build dat one right into de algorithm, too."
He can't agree more with Remy's remark about Genosha, however. "I know, right?" he says. "Where's dat flask, you cajun asshat? We owe a drink to nevah stepping foot on Genosha again."
Rogue rolled her eyes and took a swig at her beer, "Well y'all can make 'yer mom' jokes as much as you want, Mystique is about as nasty as they come. And if /either/ of you talk about her blue butt Ah'm goin' back inside and locking the door."
She shivered but she dragged in on her cigarette, "Ah hear that. You know Ah likely lost all of my stuff there? Was homeless for about a day, and moved in with a Luthor."
She looked to Gambit, "Long story."
But then Rogue shrugged, "But hey learnin' experience. And now Ah live and work here. And it's hella fun."
"Shit, I shacked up with th' X-men," Remy drawls with a laconic shrug. "Ain't gonna judge you one bit." He winks and chucks Rogue's shoulder. "So how'd y'all fin' one anothah? Dis one of dem cosmic coincidence tings?" Remy inquires, leaning back against a wall and burning up a second cigarette.
Now it's Shift's turn to roll his eyes. "No. And I'd say dat even if I didn't know her son."
Talk about inappropriate mom jokes.
"Hey, being homeless ain't dat bad, except for de whole... no roof ovah your head. For one thing, cops can't track you when you've got no address, no bills, story goes on. But yeah, nothing like earning a respectable pay once in a while."
Remy gets a smug look. "Hey, we got to do what we got to do." When he asks how he and Rogue became acquainted, however? He looks back toward Rogue with a squinted eye. "Bit of a long story. Found out each oddah were mutants, de rest is history. She saw my ugly side aftah Latveria." He casts a look Remy's way and simply says, "You don't want to see what my mutation does undah heavy narcotics."
Rogue shrugged and took in another puff, "We all got our bad times. Shit happens, ya deal. All three of us do in stride, if Ah might add."
She smiled and drank from her beer, "Probably why Ah keep the two of ya around. As for Remy and me, saw him at a bar. Couldn't get over dem eyes. Him and probably every other girl he meets."
She rolled her eyes, "Ah can be real boy crazy sometimes, and considerin' my powers, gotta chill on that. But hey. It aint always a problem."
Remy winks and blows Rogue a kiss. "Jes' a force of nature, mon ami," he assures the woman. "Can' fight it, might as well learn t' love it, oui?" He grins and takes another drag on his cigarette, burning through it at a thorough rate. 
"Y'all gonna gimme a call on de next case y' take?" Remy inquires. "Ah was chasin' a cat burglar 'cross Gotham de othah day an' realize how much ah miss de thrill of de chase."
There's a glimmer of mirth in Kwabena's mis-matched eyes that is for Rogue alone. They'd talked about their powers one Thanksgiving, and he had a soft spot for what she's got to deal with. He couldn't imagine what it would be like. She does a damn fine job dealing with it, from what he can see.
"I'm on a train to some small town in Kansas, tomorrow morning," he says to both. "You won't believe dis -- it's called 'Smallville'. One of de missing kids is from dere. I'll keep de two of you up to speed." And then there's a chirping sound coming from his phone, which he retrieves and eyes speculatively for a moment. "Well. Looks like you two are getting some time to catch up." He starts batting something into his phone, while casting a smirk Remy's way. "Keep your hands off her, or she'll kick your ass."
A wink is cast Rogue's way, before he puts the phone away. And after he turns to leave, she'll receive a text from an unfamiliar number that must be Kwabena's. It reads: 'Give him hell, he deserves it.'
Rogue looked to Gambit with a small smile, "Like Ah said, gotta talk to the bossman first. Ya shoulda brought it up when you were in there with him!"
Before he leaves Rogue touches to his shoulder, "Be well and keep safe, see ya real soon ya hear?"
Remy lifts a hand to Shift to bade him farewell, then stubs out his cigarette and moves to take his own leave. "Best be movin' on myself. Good seein' ya, mon ami," he says, grinning at Rogue. He picks up her hand and gives her gloved palm a kiss, then squeezes it and steps away. "See you roun'?" he half asks, half says. With a quick wave, he disappears into the street.
Rogue says goodbye to both of the gentlemen and still blushes slightly at Gambit's kiss. Her fangirlness over him has chilled a bit, but she still had some feelings for him. One that needs to get expressed sooner rather than later, "You keep on outta trouble hun, that goes for the both of ya."
She blew a kiss towards the both of them and went back inside.
Category:Log