5294/Where The Neon Lights End

Where The Neon Lights End
Date of Scene:	03 September 2018
Location:	New York City
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Gambit, Ekaterina Vespucci

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Gambit has posed:
The trail of street lights off the main strip ways around Times Square always go somewhere, the neon hue off of them says some, are chemical in nature, not the LEDs that predominate much of the old world, holographic billboards as well produced, casting light allover, this is after all the future, 2026. Expanses of walls are covered in graffiti, urban art and creativity.

Remy LeBeau pays no mind to these things as he stumbles after hours just before the sun rises, a whistle that is broken escaping him, that long trenchcoat not worn for some time on his person for once, it was surprisngly chill but the sun will come up soon and he needs to find his bike. Though unknown to the Cajun, hes gone the wrong direction... No one ever accused a drunk of having navigational skills... quite the opposite really

Ekaterina Vespucci has posed:
In the middle of a small crowd of onlookers and artists a small girl probably a college freshman by her look late teens to early twenties stands painting the Times Sqaure for some form of contest. The participants are all of varying ages and demographics and all bring their own styles to the mix. But this tiny girl seems to be almost magically painting in a photo accurate state - a 4k painting as it were. And of the artists she is attracting the most attention. Unfortuinately she seems to be painting herself at the same time she is making her masterpiece. The canvas is beautiful - but as cute as she is the young girl is a mess. She has no mind for the little dabs of paint that cover her.

Gambit has posed:
A late exhibit, some sort of local artist challenge for charity or who knows what. Remy isn't exactly sure, hes only now realizing hes far away from the direction he intended and tapping a cigarette pack on the back of his wrist as he gets closer to the canvaas the young Ekaterina is painting upon, the red-black eyes of the handsome mutant linger on the image before gazing over at her, "Whats dat sposed to be?" He says, no slurring, his accent sloppy though, more so than usual. But then, Ekaterina doesnt know his usual

Ekaterina Vespucci has posed:
Without turning around the small girl says, "An accurate representation of Times Square with so very little of the license that characterises modern art my young Homo Superior friend," the girl says naming Remy as a mutant before even looking at him. She adds in French, "J'aime aussi parfois du sang dans mon flux de vin." (I too occasionally love a little blood in my winestream). Apparently not judiging the man for his semi inebriated state.

Gambit has posed:
"Seulement parfois? That is not living... but this... " Remy shrugs his shoulders and takes one missed step backwards, "Accurate, huh, perhap.... " He frowns at beingc alled homo superior, "Friends, but we don't even know one another's names." A low chuckle escapes him.

A cigarette is placed in his lips, not yet lit. "Name is Remy. I did not mean to end up in Times Square but things happen for reasons I figure..."

Quietly he starts to pat himself down lookig for a match or a lighter. He knows he has one somewhere.

Ekaterina Vespucci has posed:
The girl curtsies in an archaic way before reciting in perfect Italian with al of the idioms, "Sono la Contessa Ekaterina Vespucci," clearing her throat, "actually just call me Kat I like that. Titles are an anachronism the world is better without. But I take some fun in mine." She looks Remy over, "I bet you are a pretty powerful member of your kind..." Not disclosing that she is also on of 'his' kind. "You Avengers - X-men?"

Gambit has posed:
A match found and he draws it up, striking it off his wrist so it sparks a flame touching to his cigarette, Remy doesn't say a word yet simply regarding her while she speaks, waiting entirely until she is finished before he inhales and puffs a gust out to his left, smoke curling up. "Kat, I can work wit dat one at least... the rest, just too much." He develops a half-cocked smile, teasing likely, "I wouldn't know about powerful, not something I consider, maybe the handsome one or the daring one... luckiest... " A flourish of two fingers in the air, dismissing his own words.

"You ask every mutant you meet if they're part of some... team of cape and tight wearing goofballs?"

Ekaterina Vespucci has posed:
"Nice rejoinder," Kat finishes her painting much to the chargrin of the other artists. "Handsome, daring and lucky. Also haughtily flirty but in an almost professional way. I like that Remy." Kat has no real poker face - very open. You don't need telepathy to read her mind - it's right in her cornflower blue eyes and expression. "You don't roll with any of those 'crews'. A pity for them."

Gambit has posed:
"I suppose I been called much worse." Remy jests watching the young artist, "I never said that, I mean, you are rather psychic maybe." He takes the cigarette from his lips holding it off to the side as he walks quietly around the painting, taking it in full before giving her another appraising glance, "How much this worth?"

Ekaterina Vespucci has posed:
"No psychic - just observant," Kat drawls in a faux Loisianan accent. "Been back to the motherland much Remy. You don't seem like you are very homesick." The judges are traversing the paintings - and although Kat is very high in the ratings her 4k rendition is too disturbing to win first place. "For you free." Kat says of the painting. "Apart from a shout at the local bar. Must be worth a drink - simple spirits..." Trading her art for a painting.

Gambit has posed:
Remy stares at her long, those odd red-black orbs fixed upon her features before he puts the cigarette back in to his lips, "Thats awful kind of you, no catch?" He considers where he would hang this up in his boathouse but imagines he can find a place, if the cats dont get to it. "You autograph it too or that gonna cost me?" A low chuckle.

Shaking his head at her first question, "No, not so much dis home now. Less bad juju... " A flick of his tongue over his lips, wetting them, "You sayin' you want a drink for it? I can do that. What you fancy, girl?"