4455/Tout est bien qui finit bien

Tout est bien qui finit bien
Date of Scene:	15 May 2018
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Fantomex, Gambit

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Fantomex has posed:
Midtown Manhattan. All in all what a shitty place to be, especially at night. Crime tends to run rampant here and it's not all too hard to think of why exactly that is. This is where the financial giants are. Fisk Towers, Oscorp, the Chrysler building, not to mention the metric shitload of banks around the area. But //thankfully// it ain't one of those stories this night. No, this night is much more simple really.

This time it's a trade deal //behind// a bank. Nobody said these crooks were smart, but an argument could be made that they were just tryin' to hide in plain sight. What was being traded? Oh the usual. A case of guns, bit of drugs here, some blood money there for the payment. Supposedly just a simple operation set up with no plans of being interrupted.

Then there's Fantomex.

On a roof not too far away, really just across the street is the three-brained, fake-french-accented, white-and-black-wearing bastard with a rather sleek sniper rifle as it's perched on the ledge of the roof itself. Now, Fantomex was pretty casual with his set up, and next to anyone can try to sneak up on the guy while he's lining up his shot.

"heheheh, Crétins et imbéciles, they can never understand that you cannot hide derrière une banque." He shakes his head, his finger about to pull the trigger...

Gambit has posed:
Remy LeBeau has made a habit for himself in appearing unexpected in locations. Usually and most often he has a reason, often. Whim is a rather reliable driving for some days as well.

Fantomex has been up here long enough to likely be accustomed to the immediate sensory expected, New York noises, slumbering pigeons, yelling locals. Nicotene? Perhaps not. The coil and puff of smoke suddenly prevailant, heavy around the would-be sniper.

"Bonjour." A voice does interrupt. Not that Remy was intending to be sneaky or just ghost up near to Fantomex, it's just habit.

"You missing a better sight opposite side of dis here building. A redhead, legs to the moon she likes to keep her drapes wide open." Fake French accent now gets to meet a diluted Cajun. One thats far too inflected by world traveling and the multi-cultural diversity of being around X-Men for the past... who knows how long anymore.

The lanky master thief is leaned casually against the rooftop venting, a square thing with a tube opening. One trenchcoat covered limb stretched up, supporting him. A cigarette dangling from his other hand, held neatly in two fingers, the only two exposed in an odd modified glove.

Fantomex has posed:
Yep. OF COURSE THIS HAPPENS.

Fantomex doesn't spare Remy any glances, though he does reply the greeting with a devilish smirk plastered all over his face! Shame nobody can see it thanks to his mask...but...maybe if they can see the creases move on the mask? Is that a thing? Oh well. POINT.

"Bonjour Monsieur. Is it not too much of a quiet night no?" Well, women is one way to get his attention. "Ho ho! Sérieusement? Ohhh I cannot help it, I am a ventouse for long legs. Perhaps we are kindred spirits, no?" He narrows down his sights and he seems to be slightly distracted now to actually pull that trigger. It might be the cigarette that Gambit is using, or maybe Fantomex's lack thereof.

"Happen by you a spare Cigarrette, mon ami? I find myself craving now that I smell that odeur agréable."

He seems to have a habit of throwing in actual french as he speaks. Hopefully he doesn't need to translate.

Gambit has posed:
"Perhaps, your choice of colors maybe saying something otherwise." Remy observes, a jet of smoke being blown out before he clutches the cigarette in his lips, letting it hang. "Filthy habit, I been making to quit but, eh, coffee, a smoke, women, some alcohol. Such things ah tu rends la vie belle."

A pack is produced, the Cajun walks forward while tapping it on his wrist to knock one thin white stick out for the 'French' sniper. It is then extended, offered up with a curious stare from red-black eyes, "Serious question though, before you go an' take your shot. Why and do you know who you 'bout to make enemies wit?"

Fantomex has posed:
Fantomex cannot help but laugh. "Hah! What is wrong with a little black and white? It is how I see the world, mon ami." ah yes, smoking is a pretty bad habit, but it's a free world! just has people telling you what to do in it. When the cigarette is protruded, Fantomex takes it and smiles. "Merci Monsieur." he pulls out a lighter and lifts up his mask to reveal his lower jaw and mouth. Apparently he has a lightly bearded face under that mask as he puffs and huffs.

Why do they always need to ask questions?!

'Bah, a couple of Japanese Yakuza salauds who are tryin' to have a small conversation with some local Canaille. Trying to expand influence...so I decide nous n'avons pas besoin de ça." a pause as he translates. "We don't need none of it. But...humor me with a question, mon ami.."

a pause.

"Do you intend to stop me?"

Gambit has posed:
"It really no concern of mine, I just know at least one of dem billy bads down there is associated wit' the Assassins. I came to see if it one I be familiar wit, young blood most likely. Which, dat mean no." The pack of cigarettes vanishes back in to the Cajun's trench somewhere, a rod about three feet in length rises up and rests across the man's shoulders, his fingers curl around it, more a relaxed look than anything.

"It your conscience you want to shoot dem fools from afar like some coward, not mine, homme."
"I ain't much of one to judge, dem sorts not exactly innocent. Then though, some part me also wanna be a contradiction an' say it in my best conscious too not to just stand here. A real conundrum I 'spose."

Fantomex has posed:
A little blink is given to Gambit courtesy of Fantomex. "Assassins? Hah! Double le prize, no? Why ask? ya 'ave an ami in that group? Perhaps a, ahem, femelle?" he winks teasingly at the Rajun Cajun 'fore his eyes are back on his target. "ooohhh no nonononon, coward is a strong word. I prefer plus intelligents que la moyenne. Smarter than average. Why not take a look and tell me what you see?"

He rolls away from the sniper to lean against the ledge, smoking his graciously gifted Cigarette.

If Gambit were to humor Fantomex, He'd see that the sniper was positioned to wipe out a sniper who was on the roof, taking precedence over the trade, no doubt. Though it alsp appears that the trade is about to go really sour really fast. "For you see...it became a jeu de lâches when they brought their own long range weapons, oui?"

Gambit has posed:
Remy does risk a minor glance at the visual Fantomex is offering, its not long. He doesn't trust his new friend, who would considering the situation. Sighting the other shooter is enough to give some visible relax of tension, it shows in the shoulder set and the quirk the thief has to his lips, "Fair enough, business, no?"

A lean towards the edge and Gambit looks down, "You best get to work then, maybe not the sort of thing I got the stomach for so I be on my way. Valid or no, killin' still killing.

Fantomex has posed:
Fantomex just shrugs at Remy as he knows that Le Diable Blanc understands the situation. With a little smile after he lets out another little puff of smoke, he gives Gambit a small nod of his head. "The only business I happen to be good at, mon ami." Though now it seems as though they will go their separate ways.

"Oui, Oui...Merci for the conversation and le cigarette, mon ami. Perhaps I will see you around, no?" a grin as he flicks out the cigarette and sets it aside to take the rifle in his hands as he lines up his shot.

"Voyages en toute sécurité. Safe travels." and if Gambit walks away? He will here it.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Gambit has posed:
"Perhaps. I dun make it a habit of keepin' killers company. Maybe an hopefully we stay on the same side of the green."
Remy drops from the rooftop, disappearing in the same silence he arrived. Unfortunately, this doesn't end with him being - gone. No, on that ledge. Left behind is a card, one that is vibrating with a low hum, a trickle of kinetic energy bleeding off of it.

The count down is quick and very explosive. It should reveal his location and also knock off a serious portion of that rooftop ledge.

From afar a cigarette will light up again, if Fantomex sees it once the smoke clears, Remy will wave two fingers at him. It appears the rogue has a conscience, even if at times it might be misplaced...

Fantomex has posed:
Fantomex noticed the card, but he assumed it was something that Remy used so that dear old Frenchie could remember him....alas, this is apparently //very much so not the case// as he hears it humming with energy. "ahhh...putain de merde." then BOOM! but the explosion causes Fantomex to just -barely- miss his shots. He did manage to shoot hte leader right through the shoulder though. What? he was aimin' for the head!

He shakes his head after he recovers from the explosion.

Built Tonka Tough.

Eyes end up seeing Gambit as he just cannot help but grin and shake his head. "bon mouvement mon ami...bon mouvement." and with that, and cops likely well on their way, Fantomex packs up and makes himself scarce.