what makes these monsters cry;

[solitaire]

Date & Time: sometime last week.
Location: in the city outside the hold; en route to an abandoned museum.
Characters: remy; & nill & sam.
Summary: remy is a thief who is bored. there are people who come into contact with him doing extralegal things. is legality even a worry here? who knows.
Warnings: n/a.

It had started out based on something Collette had said. Skateboards, and the museums in the city. From there Remy had gotten the idea, and since then the old abandoned places had become his regular haunts. There is something sad about those places, lonely and almost pathetic. Who would want to preserve items like this? Old CD's and satellite dishes. The remnants of the age he came from don't seem worth remembering.

But he'd scaled the place once with a mission, and now it has become a challenge. Old and abandoned as it is, the museum provides all sorts of interesting twists and turns for him to test himself with. He can crawl through half-buried doorways and life partially-shattered glass cases. Not everything is useless, either, and he often comes away with a modest haul. He's saving these things, he believes.

Tonight is cold and rainy, and he's coming away from the museum with a layer of dust in his hair and eyes. The city is cold and quiet, most of the natives having gone to bed for the night. But there is still the occasional Transport milling about. Remy hides his haul in the folds of his coat and travels across the rooftops, but occasionally he finds himself on the street and walking along beside the closed-up shops. It stands to reason that someone would run into him, eventually.

Comments

[bikininspector]

When the books drive him to his wits end and he needs a break, Sam turns to fieldwork. Walking around the city, examining it, the people, the way they interact, talking to them...it's invaluable to figuring out where he stands on everything that's been happening to him now.

It's also a great way to avoid thinking of the things that truly haunt him.

He wraps his coat tighter around himself to keep the cold at bay, his chin lowered to hide in his collar. It's with the narrowing of his line of vision that he runs in -- quite literally -- into the other man.

"Oh -- sorry man -- you ok?" His hands instinctively reach out of his pockets to stabilize the other if he should need it.

[solitaire]

When he was younger, Remy used to bump into people on purpose. It's the oldest trick in the book: crash into a tourist, and swipe their wallet or watch while they're busy apologizing to you. He's been away from that casual, small-scale thievery for some time, now, but the sensation is still similar. Except tonight he was caught off guard, and when he puts one hand out to steady himself something drops from his pockets.

"Jus' fine, homme," he murmurs, kneeling down to retrieve what he'd dropped. Is that the glint of a diamond?

[bikininspector]

Sam kneels to retrieve the item without even thinking - isn't that what you do when you've bumped into someone? Help them pick up their stuff? He doesn't usually pay too much thought to what people carry around in their pockets, but the glint certainly takes him by surprise. When he looks back up at the other man apology is replaced by suspicion in his eyes.

"That's quite the trinket you've got there."

[solitaire]

Remy laughs, lightly, and then then shrugs.

"Which is why I keep it close."

He holds out his hand for it.

[bikininspector]

Sam, however, is not quite ready to hand it over. Turning it around in his hands he looks up at the man again, taking note of the dust that still lingers in some places despite the rain.

"Where'd you score it?"

[solitaire]

"Y'know, a polite man would've just handed it back without askin' questions." His voice isn't chiding, just conversational.

[bikininspector]

"My family wasn't big on manners."

He shrugs, it is true. His father disciplined him strictly, but never about please and thank yous. Instead, he taught him to follow his instincts and ask the hard questions.

"You could just answer."

[solitaire]

"I nicked it." He laughs, and shrugs. "Not many stores y'could buy that in 'round here, are there?"

[bikininspector]

An outright confession, now that he wasn't expecting.

"Where from?" He supposes it doesn't even really matter, the police would probably be able to locate the rightful owner. This is the sort of thing someone's bound to notice is gone.

[solitaire]

"A place I might want ta go back ta, so I won't be sayin'." He holds out his hand, again.

[bikininspector]

Far from handing it over, Sam straightens up, slipping the gem in his pocket.

"Sorry, change of plans."

[solitaire]

His look is flat and his eyes flash, briefly.

"Homme, don't steal from a thief. It's really not a smart move."

[bikininspector]

"It's not stealing if it was never yours. I'm taking this back."

Maybe it's not smart but heck, he's sick and tired of being smart. He's angry at Exsilium, at Dean, at the Initiative, at his father, at the monster who took his Jess away from him. And it's time to release some of that.

[reassures]

The thing about Nill is that she has spent a good portion of her time over the past few years awake at night. She hadn't spent most of that time necessarily doing dangerous things, but she'd spent it awake nonetheless, and it's difficult to adjust to the way this city works. So much of it is empty at night, and it's so foreign to Nill, who is used to life and death even in empty streets. She can't bring herself to trust the silence of this place.

At one point, she could get close to flying. Now she needed to do things manually, to get around with her own strength. She was fast and could hide like a pro, but no one had ever taught her how to get around on her own. Not properly, anyway, which is why she had to make due on her own.

Remy won't bump into Nill on the streets. In fact, she happens to be on a rooftop adjacent to the one he just landed on. She seems surprised for a moment, before lifting a hand to wave awkwardly. This was... very not expected.

[solitaire]

Remy's eyes see better in the dark. It has something to do with the way his black scelera don't absorb light, and the science of it is probably bogus but it is what it is. Regardless, he recognizes Nill immediately when he drops down onto the roof, even if he hadn't been expecting to see anyone there.

He picks himself up and dusts himself off, smiling sheepishly.

"Hello, fille. Fancy meetin' you here."

[reassures]

Nill's eyes aren't particularly good or bad in the dark, but you could say that she's gotten used to adjusting to the dark quickly, from experiences in a number of different worlds. If you don't adapt, then you probably won't survive.

It's a little embarrassing to be caught like this. Despite that, Nill smiles in return to the greeting. After taking a moment to make sure she gets it right, and lifting a hand to signal that he should wait a moment, Nill sprints from her spot on the roof she's on so that she can jump onto the roof that Remy landed on. She's far from doing it as well as Remy can, but it doesn't look like it's something she's totally new to, either. After landing in a bit of a roll (which would explain why her wings are under the jacket), she quickly pushes herself up and dusts herself off.

[solitaire]

He stands off to one side, watching with arms crossed over his chest. There's something assessing about the look, like he's examining her technique. Habit, probably.

"Not bad," he says, half to himself. But in another moment he's turned to look out at the city's broken skyline, and seems to be paying attention to that. He addresses her again after a moment, saying, "I always liked this time a' night. Something magical about it, no?"

[reassures]

Nill knows it's mostly meant to himself, but she still brightens a little bit when he says it. It's rare that people see what she's capable of, even if this is practice, and even rarer that she's praised for it. She can't help but be a little proud of herself.

After taking a moment to check her pockets, she pulls her tablet out of one of them. Instead of nodding, she types up a message, and holds it up for him to see.

It's different from what I'm used to. I like it.

[solitaire]

He reads the words, quickly, and then smiles at her. So many people don't really take in the city for what it was--a testament to survival--and he thinks that's a shame. He's glad someone, at least, appreciates it.

"I could think a' some improvements, but for what it is," he doesn't end the sentence, but just shrugs in a good-natured way. A minute later he pats one of his pockets, making sure his haul is still safe and secure. He whistles, a few notes that make him conspicuous rather than casual.

[reassures]

She smiles in return, though only briefly. She can see some of the beauty in this city, it's true. The people here have worked hard and earned their lives. They've done well by themselves, and in another time or place, Nill might not mind helping them. She might not mind being a soldier, because some parts of this world seem worth protecting, few as they might be.

But the good of this world does not outweigh the bad, and the kindness that has been shown to her does not outweigh what the people who run this place have taken from her. It's a shame, because Nill likes Remy quite a bit, but she feels like they would butt heads if they really talked about this world at length.

She's about to nod her agreement when she notices him pat his pocket, and she gives him an inquisitive look, with a purposeful tilt of her head. He didn't seem up to the cool he presented himself with the last time they'd met.

[solitaire]

He notices her look and laughs. When he’s around people he knows, sometimes he swipes things just to see if they’ll notice. Sometimes he does it just to reaffirm what they already think of him. (“Careful, Gambit swiped the silverware at dinner.”) It’s a way of keeping himself unaligned, of reminding everyone—including himself—that he is ultimately self-serving. Or that he wants everyone—again, including himself—to actually believe that. Mostly, it works out.

“Oh, you want ta see?” he says, as though it’s something incredibly amazing. And, it is. A bright, glistening diamond on a delicately-crafted chain, found after weeks of casually picking through the stupider things found in the city’s old museums. It holds it up and it catches the moonlight, refracting it onto the rooftop in different patterns as it tilts, slowly.

[reassures]

Nill isn't expecting very much. Usually when people tried to keep secrets from her but acted obvious about them, it was over something silly. A joke, or something they were randomly proud of, or something they wanted to complain about. Small things to be shared with others. The diamond is completely beyond was she was prepared for, and Nill openly stares at it for a moment before she catches herself.

It isn't something she's ever seen outside of commercials or movies, though. Never in person. Her usually adept fingers fumble slightly over the screen of her tablet as she types up a message.

It's beautiful.

[solitaire]

He laughs, and tosses the gem into the air, catching it deftly before throwing it again. It spins above his head, falls behind his back. The motions aren’t incredibly intricate, but the result, of the moonlight catching on the jewel, is as good as any laser light show. He clearly knows exactly how to bring out the best of it.

He reads her message and nods, almost to himself. “Never could resist a pretty thing, me. So when I saw it I just had to set it free.”

[reassures]

As far as Nill can tell, the display is quite impressive. It feels like years since she saw someone do something like this. The memory is still there, though - a black haired young man, tossing kunai like balls, as if the blades weren't sharp at all. Remy's display isn't necessarily on it's own, but it shows off a certain amount of skill; some knowledge of the gem itself, how easily he can use his hands. Nill certainly looks appreciative for it.

I think it's much better with you than wherever it was before.

[solitaire]

He smiles again, at that statement. Back home, he’s got hidden bank vaults full of such trinkets, a family home he’s no longer allowed to return to bursting with ancient treasures. Possessing things has never really brought him a lot of joy; it’s always the taking itself that’s better. Which is probably why he flaunts his victories, until Cecelia or Rogue or Ororo demands he take the paintings back to the museum or the rubies back to exhibit. Unless, of course, he’s gifting the rubies, in which case they don’t seem to mind as much.

“Really? I can think of a better place for it, even.” And, just like that, he tosses it towards her.