A Night Cap at the Night Owl

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Brief Title:
Night Cap at the Night Owl

Phantasm and Gambit

Scene Runner/Watcher:

IC Date:

The Night Owl - SoHo

Mike stops in for a drink while home hunting and runs into Gambit.

Social or Plot:


-----==[ The Night Owl - New York ]==-----------------------------------------

One would notice immediately that this place doesn't necessarly fit into the neighborhood; for one, it's nice, and another, there's no gang bangers tearing down the place. Bouncers s are seen throughout the room and secure it from being destroyed by the rif-raf.
This room is very dimmy lit, the only light in this room is from the blue light above the bar and four dim lamps that quater the room; yet many of the tables will have small candles for singular illumination. Along the back wall is the bar, where people may sit, drink and enjoy a clear view of the bar via a wide mirror. You also spot two private booths where meetings of sorts maybe held, or just people that want to talk privately. Throughout the room are tables with chairs for patrons to relax and enjoy their time here. The sounds of music, people talking, laughing and having a good time fills your ears.


It is a pleasant temprature outside and yet there are people spending it in the dark of the Night Owl. Granted not necessarily the amount typically associated with a Saturday evening but with people preparing for the cookouts of the summer time, the usual crowd is sparse.

But it is a perfect time to get service indeed. Taking a break from looking for a new place to live, Mike has wandered in to the Night Owl for, well, a bit of a night cap. Setting a newspaper folded to the real estate ads down on the counter, he orders his drink and sighs, shaking his head.

Remy was already present at the bar before Mike entered. He hunches over a small shot glass of whiskey. A sidelong look is given to Mike as he enters the bar with newspaper in hand. Taking a shot, he calls over the the musician. "Dere a bar in dis city where we won't run into each otha," he asks.

Mike's head turns, looking over to Gambit. "No chaperoning today?" He reaches a hand over to the newspaper, tapping it across the bartop so it's a bit closer to Gambit as he adjusts his seating choice next to Gambit. Hell, if he's going to chat, no point doing it loudly. "Don't normally come to this one," he offers up, "But, I'm shopping around for a new haunt."

Gambit snorts lightly as he taps on his empty glass indicating to the barkeep that he would like another. "Le's just say de kids, dey be drivin' me crazy aujourd'hui," he says with a sly gri. "T'ought might be a good idea ta get outta dere for an evenin'." Looking over at the newspaper he nods. "Could pick a worse neighborhood, s'ppose. Why de new digs dough?"

"Still looking." Mike looks to the paper, shaking his head, "Different reasons." He gives a nod to the bartender as a glass of black-ish liquid is set before him, "It's hard to tell someone that a place is still safe when they were attacked in it and they basically got to witness the murder of another roommate."

"Remind me neva ta get a place avec toi, mon ami," Remy jokes. "Course, I could fill you wit dread an remind you dat people like us neva really get ta be safe." He takes another shot of his whiskey, slamming the glass down on the table.

"I'm aware of that." Mike replies, lifting up the glass for a long sip before continuing, "And I'm sure that he knows too. But the least I can do is change the scene a bit." He lifts up his drink, sipping some more.

"You eva consider joinin' up wit a crew," Remy asks genuinely. "Safety in numbas, an all dat." The barkeep refills his shot glass, and is greeted with an appreciative nod.

Mike's head turns, looking towards Gambit, brow raised. "The h-" He pauses, frown deepening as he presses his hand to his face, "Christ. That girl just can't help herself, can she?"

Gambit chuckles. "Don't s'ppose she can. So, really. Quel est le probleme entre vous deux? What's the deal between you two? She seems pretty attached ta you."

"Hell if I know." Mike murmurs, lifting a hand up, "Think we ran into each other mainly when I was hanging out with Ben and Baker a lot. And, she just kept, showing up." He tilts his head, eyes glancing up in thought, or perhaps to stare at what's behind him in the mirror, "I was an only child but, I guess she'd be like a kid sister who keeps going into your room and messing with your stuff when you tell her not to."

Gambit nods solemnly. "I know de feelin'," he offers. "Mais, you changed de subject, mon ami," he adds with a sly grin. "I know you got 'bilities, an dis city's got more superhero crews den you can count. Sure one o' dem be more'n 'appy ta 'ave you 'mong dier numbas, non?"

Pale eyes look at Gambit's via the relection of the glass. Mike's drink lifted to hide the expression upon the lips at least via that medium, but the frown is still present, "Just because no one's asked doesn't mean I didn't help them when it was needed." The frown deepens, "If anything, spending my time helping them made things worse for me." He shakes his head.

Gambit shrugs and takes another drink himself. "Just cause dey neva asked, dun mean you can't," he says quietly. "Been on ma own more'n I been wit a team," he says "An' I can tells ya, neva 'urts ta 'ave a family at yo' back."

"And it hurts to have family under your feet." Mike murmurs, looking to his drink, "When you're working with others, part of the group or not, your focus is on the group's goals. You don't pay attention to the problems you should be focusing on until it's too late."

Gambit grabs a napkin from a nearby dispenser and asks the barkeep for a pen. With pen in hand, he hastily writes something on the napkin. Reaching into one of the many pockets in his long coat, he pulls out a single key and examines it for a moment before placing it on the napkin, and sliding the napkin across the bar to Mike. "My not be de best part o' town," he says, "But is safe. Dat's for sure. Take someone who really knows what dey be doin' ta enter unwelcomed." Nodding to the napkin and key he continues. "Is yours, rent free," he says with a smile.

Mike looks down to the napkin, then glancing to Gambit, shaking his head, "Appreciate the offer, but it's not just me that's relocating. Besides, there is a place an agent mentioned that has me curious."

"Keep it," the Cajun says firmly. "Neva know when you might need a safe place to stay." He taps for a refill of his shot glass. When the fresh liquor arrives, he holds up the glass to offer a toast. "Bonne chance in de house hunt, mon ami," he says with a sly grin.

Mike gances to the key, considering it for a moment before relenting, missing the likely telling grin. "You realize if there comes a point where I use this, whoever's staying with me is probably coming too," he warns.

"You ain't roomin' wit de Hulk are you," the X-Man jokes.

"No. Just a homeless kid with a hair problem." Mike replies, lifting up a finger, "But things could change. Although if it was the Hulk, I'd probably not tell him because chances are if there was need to hide it'd be from him."

Gambit smiles. "Den I ain't worried 'bout your partner, mon ami," he says dismissively. "An' dis place may not be quite Hulk-proof," he says with a playful tone, "Mais is pretty close, non?" He places a hand on Mike's shoulder, "Attendre, you dun need ta go at de world alone, mon ami. Dis is de least I can do ta help. Trust me."

"Partner?" Mike repeats, tone a bit unsure to what Gambit's meaning but considering someone else's words assuming the worst. He snerks at the thought, "Nah. He's just a kid." He sets his hand down on the key, drawing it towards him. "Who's gone through enough shit already."

Raising his hands in apology, Gambit laughs. "Not what I meant," he says. "Not dat dere's anyt'ing wrong wit dat if dat's how you hang."

"It's not." Mike replies a bit bandly, pocketing the key and napkin, "Sorry, I've already had one person suggest that and it's just such a w-" He pauses, "It's ju- If Ruth's the annoying little sister, he's like the wimpy younger brother."

"Relax," Gambit says amusedly. "You 'ave more than convinced me. No need ta rush down de street an get a lady friend to prove it any more." He looks down to his cellphone to check the time. Grabbing his coat from off of the back of the stool, he stands, taking a final shot. "I'm sure you find just de right place. Keep lookin'. An' eva you need anyt'in, don't you hesitate ta give me a call. Mais, if you'll excuse me I got a class ta teach in de mornin."

Mike nods, turning his head to look towards the Cajun paying for his drinks, and nods. "See you around then." He replies, "And thanks."


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