The Sweet Side

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Brief Title:
The Sweet Side

Characters:
Gambit, Gogo Phantasm

Scene Runner/Watcher:
None

IC Date:
2012/02/05

Location:
Perry's Bar - Midtown

Summary:
Talk of random things. Primarily about how politicians stink

Social or Plot:
Social

TS:
No

Log:
-----==[ Perry's Bar - Midtown ]==--------------------------------------------

A low lit, well furnished, standard English pub. Perry's Bar has quiet music playing in the background, sometimes an actual piano is being played for tips. The bar itself is located in the center part of the room and is well manicured, polished, and decorated. The waitress' all wear short, black skirts, yet still hold the feel of beauty and elegance. The bartenders all wear tuxedo shirts and bottoms and have a smile wanting to serve you.

Places used here

==============================================================================
Contents:
Gambit
Gogo
Obvious Exits:
[O] - Midtown - New York

Not all that crowded on a Tuesday night, Perry's Bar has shown to be an ideal place for one Mick Drago to stop off after a day of filming. Hair pulled back in a ponytail, his lengthy hair is not giving him problems as he sits at a table instead of the bar. Next to a glass of dark liquid, he has a sketchbook open. Pale eyes glimpse a waitress before looking back down to the paper, drawing a few more lines.

Although Annie has been avoiding New York since all the trouble started, she still does have her place in the city, and the it is still the center of the devastated UCWF, which is why she's there. After yet another long session with the lawyers, she's ready for some self medication, and right now that calls for some drinking. So, she pushes open the door to Perry's and squeezes her way in, not wearing her normal jeans and tee, but instead dressed in a plum skirt suit. She ignores the normal stares, eyes lit up in the dimly lit pub, and she heads for the bar. However, spotting Mike she alters course and heads towards him, "Hey hey! You mind some company sailor?"

Remy Lebeau looks a little worse for the wear as he enters the bar. The past several months have been a bit hard on him. The one-time X-Man has spent the last several days keeping his head low due to the whole brouhaha that's been tearing the entire superhero community apart. Weary and tired, he's simply looking for a drink, and a way to forget. He makes his way to a table in the corner, to sit in the dark. It's not that he didn't notice Mike, he always notices, but tonight he would prefer to be alone in the crowd.

Mike glances up as someone addresses him. Seeing the orange skinned wrestler, the musician turned actor gives a half smile before gesturing over to the bench seat across from him, "Sure. Haven't seen you in awhile, Annie." The movement behind Gogo heading towards a different area does catch Mike's attention but he doesn't call out to him. Instead he lifts his arm, seemingly getting ready to rest his chin on the thumb before giving a quasi tilt of the index finger and a glance towards Gambit before turning his attention back to Annie. "So, are you still using that entrance theme or have you switched it out for something else by now?"

Annie drops down into a chair at Mike's table. She nods, "Been trying to avoid New York and avoid the USA as much as possible really. I'm not political and I don't want to become political. So...I've been working on my tan a lot. And is there another theme I should be using? I don't come by awesome theme songs everyday you know."

Gambit bows his head in response to Mike's silent greeting. He motions for a waitress, ordering a bottle of bourbon when she arrives. He's polite enough to her, and offers a suave smile but leaves it at that. He runs his fingers through his thick hair, and leans back in his seat. His dark eyes make their way around the bar, never focusing on any one person, but taking in the occupants nonetheless.

"No, no," Mike replies, shaking his head, "It's just it's been awhile since that one got written. I'm, not all that familiar with the wrestling stuff. Don't know ho long you guys keep themes before switching them out." He frowns a bit, glancing to his drink at the reminder, "It is getting to be a problem for you guys."

There's not much to look at for patrons. With the exception of a few tables closer to the door, Gambit's and the one Mike and Gogo share, the bar is empty.

"Well, we sort of run with them until we change our gimmick. And we don't really do a whole bunch of that in the UCWF. You know, the whole fighting being real thing is supposed to be the draw, not the traditional wrestling stuff." She leans to follow Gambit with her glowing eyes, trailing Mike's look in that direction. But she doesn't know the guy, so her attention returns to Mike, "Yeah. A major problem. It hurts my head. I hate how it is tearing apart the community."

Reaching into his pocket, Remy pulls out what appears to be a cigarette. He puts it between his lips right as the waitress brings his previously requested bottom of bourbon. He pulls what appears to be a zippo from his pocket as well. Seeing this the waitress loudly declares to him that he can't smoke in here. With his typical smile and a twinkle in his eye, he lifts the zippo to the cigarette. With a flick of his thumb, an LED on the zippo appears where a flame normally would. He holds it to the tip of the faux cigarette pressed between his lips, and a corresponding light on the tip of it shines. With an inhale, he puffs out a column of steam engineered to appear like real smoke. He shows the electronic device to the girl saying, "Mais, I'm not smoking, chere. Unless de mayor's decided ta outlaw dese like dey be outlawing e'ryt'ing dese days." The girl smiles faintly at him, and he gives her the look of a wolf who's just come across an unguarded herd of sheep.

"I hate politics." Mike mutters, shaking his head, "I'd probably be hating it even more if I had powers or ran around wearing a mask saving people." He lifts up the glass, "Can you just imagine having your name added to a list, just waiting to be misused by some sociopath who gets a high security clearance?" As a waitress comes by, conveniently heading back from Gambit's table, Mike leans over towards her, making a request before looking over to Gogo. "Drink?"

"Yeah. Margaritas, like a dozen of them to start with." she says to the waitress, "Mix em half and half, some strawberry, some normal. And on ice." She looks over at Remy, then to Mike she asks, "A friend of yours? Or you just being your normal sweet self? And thanks for reminding me about my name and address being on some government file, with checkmarks beside the "Possible medical experimentation subject"

Gambit pours himself a glass of bourbon from the bottom, watching the waitress walk back towards the bar. He puffs a few more times at his e-cigarette before turning up his nose at the object and putting it neatly back into his pocket.

Mike grimaces, glancing away, "Ah. Riiiight." He looks over towards Annie, "Sorry." He glances towards Gambit, seemingly being reminded of the thief being there. "And yes. One of those answers." He looks over towards Annie once more, "And I'm not sweet. Haven't you read the tabloids recently? I've apparently gone to my twisted old ways of sex, drugs, and criminal mischief." He lifts up the glass, "...Or at least that's what the headlines say, never really bothered buying any of them."

"It's not like registration really changed that. I'm sure we wrestlers have all been on some government database for quite some time, with mad scientests perusing the lists for possible test subjects." At the talk of Mike's old ways she snorts, which is a feat, given her lack of a nose, "Sex drugs and rock and roll. They are always looking to make people lok bad. Like they need to go after you right now when the whole country stinks." She hoists her first margarita in salute when it is delivered, she nods to Gabit, as if sharing with him, then downs the drink in a gulp. "To better times and better newspapers."

Deciding that he's been antisocial enough for a bit, Gambit stands and heads to the bar where Mike and Annie sit. He brings his bourbon too, of course. Slapping Mike on the back, he gives a half smile. "How de condo be treatin' you, mon ami?" he asks. He looks over to Annie and nods a greeting to her as well. "De neighbors aint been givin' you any troubles, j'espere."

"Sometimes when the country is in the toilet, people need a moment where they can go, 'At least I'm not that guy'. And feel a bit better about things." Mike shrugs, lifting his drink, returning the salute. "May those who love us love us. And those that don't love us, May God turn their hearts. And if He doesn't turn their hearts, May he turn their ankles, So we'll know them by their limping." He starts to lift his drink to take a sip, not jostling it even as he gets his back slapped. The glass settles and Mike turns his head. "Evenin' LeBeau. Condo's working out great. Armand's been using the kitchen like crazy. And it's great to crash in when I'm in town." He waves a hand over to an open seat at the table.

"You're living with Armand?" that's what Gogo got out of all that, "Like...Armand Armand?" she taps her temple, "That Armand? For real?" picking up the next margarita she offers a luminescent fanged smile to Remy. "Sup?" yes, eloquence and poetry, that's Annie. She signs her bit of poetry by downing her next drink and licking her lips.

Gambit snorts bemusedly at Annie's introduction. "Je M'appelle Remy," he offers to her. He reaches behind the bar, grabs a new glass and pours himself another drink. When the waitress begins to protest again, Remy's debonair smile shuts her down instantly. He takes the open seat that Mike had indicated.

Mike glances over towards Annie, "Yeaaah, Wade and I took him in when he had to leave his school and he needed a place to stay." Being that Wade's been dead for awhile, the tone to Mike's voice is more amused to Annie not knowing. He shakes his head, reaching a hand down to close his sketch book, covering up a rather nice likeness of the waitress serving a table with a couple sitting there. Mike glances towards the waitress, giving an apologetic smile before picking up his glass again to sip.

Gogo nods to Gambit, "Mi nombre es Annie. Annie Ritter. Pleased to meet you Remy." Her glowing eyes narrow a bit and she looks after the waitress for a few moments, then looks at Armand carefully. But whatever that's about it washes past in a moment after a deep sigh, "Well, I'm glad he got out of that school he was in. Not sure it was a good place for him, or for anyone."

Gambit raises his glass and lowers his head in agreement with Gogo.

"It's not." Mike agrees, lowering the glass, "All the more reason to offer him a place to stay. Sucks when your options get restricted."

Annie nods her head slowly, still looking a bit concerned about the waitress. But she trusts Mike, and so she goes for her third margarita. This one she sips at like a normal person, "Well, it is sweet of you to help him out. See? You're still sweet. Despite your protests."

Gambit grins, "Oh he's sweet alright. And whachu mean options get restricted? Dats one semi-decent condo you an' Armand be livin' in, mon ami. You want next time I sell you a top o de line penthouse for dat price," he teases.

"Or I have a severe distaste for the people doing that school's recruiting." Mike offers up as an alternative to Annie's suggestion, "It could be completely based off of spite. That's not sweet." He looks over towards Gambit, "I was talking about before the condo. The kid had no place to live and the only people who showed him any interest were from that school. Homeless and hungry or the school of ulterior motives. That's limited."

Annie rolls her eyes, though only those experienced with the apparently featureless green eyes could easily spot the eye roll, "Oh please. But hey, I don't want to ruin your image, especially not in front of another hard case." She turns to Gambit, "You are another hard case aren't you? Definitely not sweet?"

Gambit smiles sweetly. "Chere, dey don't come any sweeter dan moi," he says, his voice full of saccharin.

Mike snerks, "So what've you been up to, Lebeau? Keeping busy?"

"Yeah. Right. I believe you playboy." She moves on to another drink, rattling the ice about in the empty in her off hand. Other than that, she lets Mike ask his question without interruption.

Gambit lowers his head for a moment before returning with a playful smile. "Oh de usual, lettin' e'ryone I care 'bout down. Makin' one bad decision afta anotha. Et toi?"

Mike's lips quirk, "What would life be without bad decisions? Got to do something with my free nights. Make the 'razzi's happy."

"Eh. That sounds all too familiar. If we were perfect, life would be pretty boring." She then asks Remy, "You like the fake cigarette thing? That working well for you?"

"Dat t'ing," Remy says to Gogo questioningly. "Dat t'ing ain't worth de plastic it be moulded of. Mais, dey say I can't smoke anywhere, so I s'ppose is betta den nuttin, non?"

"Those monsters." Mike deadpans, giving a bit of an impish smirk as he lifts up his drink.

"Who is dey? Your doctor? Your friends? Family?" Annie doesn't know anything about the man, so it's all speculation for her.

Gambit smiles politely. "Dey as in de politicians," he says candidly. He looks down at his watch, and as if he just remember somewhere he needs to be, tints is head to the side. "Been a real pleasure, mes ami, mais if'n you'll excuse me. I have an appointment I can't miss."

The waitress waves Gambit on, "Your drinks are covered."

Gambit gives a diapproving glare to Mike at the waitress' comment, and walks out the door.

Mike gives an innocent look as he watches Gambit leaving. But upon the X-man exiting the door, he starts to chuckle, waving over to the waitress, "Time to closeout here as well." He gestures to the empty glasses in front of Gogo, "Those too."

Annie stands up and gives Mike a one armed hug, "It was nice running into you. I'm not staying in New York these days, but if you ever are in the south of France, or in Charlotte, give me a call. Or if you ever need some big ugly orange to help you with anything."

Mike chuckles, not trying to avoid the hug. "I'll keep that in mind next time my tour rounds hit the area," He promises, "Phone number the same?" When the bill is presented, Mike glances at it before fishing out the funds for it and passing it to the Waitress, "No change needed." He murmurs, giving her a bit of a smile before getting up from his seat, "See you around, Annie."

She nods, "Same number. No reason for me to hide. I can't." That said she watches him depart, then will return to drinking.

~fin~

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