Ghost in the Gambling Den

October 05, 2017:

Remy LeBeau and Elinor Ravensdale cross paths again when she tries to talk her way into an illegal gambling den.

A seedy spot in Hell's Kitchen.

The password is definitely not 'shark.'

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

Elinor doesn't always pick where her next ghost resides, and tonight it's bringing her into the more unsavory parts of Hell's Kitchen. She's careful when she slips through the alleyways, using the shadows to conceal her from view and away from any unsavory types. Unfortuneatly for her, the ghost she's been feeling a pull towards is sitting at a table in an illegal gambling establishment.

Sadly she can't turn into a shadow and slip in undetected, she ahs to get past the Mook at the door, and it's not at all going well. He's well over six feet, and built like a brick wall. His hair is buzzed closed to his face and despite it being a dimly lit alley, he's wearing sunglasses. He isn't responding to her questions at all and Elinor is sighing. "Look, I know you're supposed to stand here by this door, like an extra door but I just need to run in real quick. I know a guy, he said I could come in?" She's not very convincing today.

*

If there are any places Remy is going to locate fast in any town, it's the illegal gambling establishments. The ones in Gotham are way better, but he hasn't drifted out of uptown Manhattan just yet. He's not staying in Hell's Kitchen, mind. His 'borrowed' apartment is in a much swanker area of town, and that place is good for at least another two weeks before someone nosy notices his presence. But there aren't a lot of illegal gambling dens over there. He'd been close enough to the grocery store yesterday in part because he'd spent some time locating places like these, many of which are here.

He watches the apparently very new at this thing psychic con woman try to talk her way through the door. He stands in the shadow, offering a flash of a grin to the darkness. He slides his hands into the pockets of his duster. And right now? He waits to see how this goes, cause he wants to see ifs he gets anywhere with the fellow.

*

This psychic isn't doing so great with the talking today. She lets out a frustrated groan and looks to her right as if she's listening to someone else talk, but doesn't respond to the invisible person. "Is it shark? I know it's usually shark. I don't know why you have to have super secret passwords, money is money right? I just need in for ten, maybe fifteen minutes." She does her best to give him a beeming smile, but it doesn't move him.

The Mook shifts in his spot in front of the door and grunts. "Shark was the password months ago. Don't you know anything about basic security? You at least have to change the password every 90 days." He grins at his own joke, but soon his face falls right back in that smooth displased mask he seems to always wear.

*

Remy just grins again, and shakes his head. Then he pushes off the wall and ambles smoothly to the side of one Elinor Ravensdale. He takes her arm smoothly, ever the perfect gentleman, and says, "My Ellie, she a forgetful one, her. But she's my good luck charm, and I'm afraid I can't do without her. Name's Gambit. Haven't had the pleasure of picking up the password here yet," — Thus the reason he was standing around in the shadows, waiting for someone to drop the thing at this particular establishment— "but I'm looking for a backer for my next game. I hear y'all might be the establishment to try."

He's working today, so he's in some sort of strange armor. Most of the get-up is black leather, though there's some sort of metallic chest plate that goes with it. Tinted royal purple, of all things. That duster? Still there. He winks at Elinor, then looks back up at the goon at the door.

"Not asking you to let us in right off the street, but if you could have a word with someone inside to have a word with someone inside about letting me have a word with someone inside, I'd be right obliged. Gonna be good money for someone."

*

For a second, she leans into that arm, because there is someone she trusts that sneaks up on her like that. However that voice is not at all the one she expects and as much as she'd like to pull away, the ruse has already begun. Than again he's hit another button with her. There is one person who calls her Ellie, and he's been long dead. Luckly Bobby isn't here to kick Remy in the shins.

"There you are darling, I was just chatting up this fine gentleman to try and secure you a spot." Of course she was, he can feel how tense her arm is where he's holding it, but she at least puts on the face of the ditzy poker trophy.

Mook McGrumpyface looks up at 'Gambit' raising his brow as he approaches and cocking his head to the side. However it appears that Remy is at least on the right track. "Not that I'm saying we are that sort of establishment, but if we were, there might be something I can do for a small cover charge. I could get you through the door, but the rest would be up to you." He leans forward and lowers his voice. "An you should probably keep the charm on a tighter leash."

*

Elinor steps into her role, and he pat pats her hand just exactly like a smarter partner might pat pat the hand of a pretty but ultimately clueless bit of arm candy. It's all very patronizing and absent in a way he certainly didn't display at the grocery store.

As for the cover charge? Money is apparently no object. There's a moment of sleight of hand that makes bills appear between his fingers, and then several fifties are being held out in Mook McGrumpy Face's direction. His bright smile only turns up the wattage when he realizes just how annoyed the 'psychic' on his arm has grown. That's really just kind of a bonus as far as he's concerned.

The Mook drops his opinion, and he leans forward and says in light, conspiratorial fashion: "I tried, bougre, but she said the magic word and I had to stop."

For all the world like Mook surely knows how that little annoyance goes. But also for all the world like this event didn't put him out too terribly much.

*

Well that money came out easy, and had Elinor had access to that much cash on hand she might of had an easier time getting through the door. She remains in her role and even reaches up to twirl a strand of her hair. However the whispered words cause her facade to drop just a touch, and what Remy says in return has her blood boiling. The list of people she wants to murder is very short, and he just jumped to the top of it.

Digging her nails into his arm, she sweetly replies to them. "Baby, can we get inside? I wanna watch you win at cards so you can buy me that new purse." He obviously has the money for it!

Mook watches the fancy slight of hand with a tensing of his shoulders. He obviously isn't a fan of quick movements, but the money he produced causes a his lips to tick in a smirk. "I believe this'll get you in the door Mr. Gambit." At his reply about his 'little woman', Mook grins and shakes his head. "Pity Mate." Reaching back he knocks on the door and it opens. "Enjoy your evening."

*

Dug claws are damned ineffective through layers of leather, but Remy registers the pressure. Once they're past the Mook he has to suck in his lips for just a moment to keep from bursting into laughter, though his shoulders shake in silence all the same.

Once the door is shut behind him he murmurs, "I didn't realize you were new at all this, ma bele t sorcière. If I had I might have let you practice on me after all! You could have gotten yourself shot you know. What you after in here, anyway? There's safer spots for beginners to do their gambling."

And does he let her arm go? Nope! Indeed, despite the teasing words, the watchful wariness which had momentarily marked him in the grocery store is back. He's assumed a stance that's almost protective as he leads her back into what he presumes the spot of main action is. He's talked her in, but as clumsy as she was at the door?

Well, he's not exactly going to leave her to herself.

*

Through the door is a long dim hallway with heavy wooden doors that are scuffed from age. The first door on the right is open and a few people are talking from within. Perhaps a lively game, or the lull between deals, it's hard to tell with out going through.

Eventhough her nails did no damage do him, it made her feel better to at least attempt it. Once he murmers at her, she turns on him and her eyes turn as black as his. The room around them darkens and long shadowy tendrils wrap themselves around Gambit's torso, squeezing unnatrually tight as she snarls at him. "Please. Continue to under-estimate me, see where that gets you. Just keep thinking I'm some fake psychic." The body armor is probably feeling really tight and making it hard to breathe.

Elinor only uses that magic on him long enough to get her point across, and she quickly lets it drop and fade away while her eyes return to normal. "Get me in that back room over there, then we can part ways and never speak to eachother again."

*

There aren't truly a lot of things which can surprise Remy LeBeau.

Elinor finds one of them when she suddenly seizes him with— shadows? Darkness? Something that wasn't there before. But then, he's no stranger to powers…

Even if he might mistake their source. His first thought certainly isn't 'no, no, she really does use magic.' But neither are such things outside of his paradigm.

He oofs as the tenticle squeezes him, and red eyes narrow. A card is in his hand in seconds— just a playing card, though the Ace of Spades falls to his fingers and is held up momentarily like he intends to use it as a weapon, even as he struggles to breathe. Anger flashes over his face, erasing the devil-may-care attitude.

But then she's letting him go, and the card disappears. He folds his arms, and stares warily down at her, reassessing. If her goal was to make sure he took her seriously from here all out, well. Objective achieved.

He regains his equilibrieum quickly enough, giving his head a little shake to whip an overlong bit of tousled bang out of his eyes. It's an absent motion, one which does little to remove the air of calculation from his face. "Not so fast. I got questions," he says firmly. "If you're not running a curse cleanse scam then what are you doing?"

*

Elinor has no idea what he plans to do with a playing card, perhaps he's really into playing poker, but it is hidden away as she stops her magic. It might be something she asks later, if they both survive getting out of this den of filth. Though she can't help but smile when that cocky look melts off his face and he shows an actual emotion that isn't related to his ego.

Somewhere in the back of her head, a tick mark is added to a chalkboard.

When he crosses his arms, she turns to walk down the hallway, but his words cause her to pause. "Are we really doing this here? In the middle of an illegal gambling establishment, you have questions?" She thows up her hands and shakes her head. "I work for a Private Eye, I have private eye business in here." It's not a lie.

*

Remy groans and literally facepalms. She will perhaps get the pleasure of adding another tickmark to her side of the board. His tone is quiet, but chagrinned all the same. "I did not just talk a dadgum private detective into— man, you gonna be the death of me, you."

He exhales and whips his coat straight, then strides in after her, suddenly all smiles. The only way he's not going to get screwed, with a price on his head courtesy of whatever gang members run this 'fine' establishment, is to help her sell her cover to the nines, so they never suspect a thing.

And so he follows after her. Hell, maybe he'll luck out, and actually find a backer for the kind of high stakes game he was hoping to locate when he came out here in the first place.

*

Tick.

That groan lightens her mood just a touch, which helps her get back into character. "Me? Be the death of you? Trust me 'darlin', the last thing I want you is dead." Because Elinor has a feeling that he would be the most annoying ghost to ever pester her, and that's the last thing she wants! "Get yourself to a table, I'll excuse myself to the little trophy's room and no one will be the wiser." Granted she still isn't going to tell him what she's actually doing, since she feels that he barely believes her as it is.

Elinor takes a second to tart herself up a bit more, and look like the perfect little gothic trophy to stay as a lucky charm.

The poker table has one open spot, with the other four filled with various gentlemen. One guy looks like a spoiled little rich frat boy who is revenge spending his parents money. There is a balding man, with a rumpled button down shirt and the jitters of someone trying to win their money back. One man looks like your typical thug, with several tattoos on his arms, and many of them obviously obtained in prison. Finally the dealer is dressed in a suit and grins wickedly at the pair as they enter. "My doorman tells me that you have money to spend Mr. Gambit, shall I deal you in?"

*

She wants to powder her nose?

Well and good. He hopes her game isn't 'blow the place up', but she just said she didn't want him dead. Maybe she's planting bugs. Wait, in the ladies room?

You know what? He doesn't even care.

He takes that empty spot and grins. "You absolutely should," he says, paying up for a substantial pile of chips. He realizes in just a moment that even greater revenge is coming, cause she's gonna have to sit there and cheer him on while he wins himself a pile of money. If she doesn't? There goes her cover.

Tick mark on the Gambit side of the board, oh yeah!

With that cheering thought to bolster him, he settles in and gets riiiiiight comfortable.

*

They have the same revelation right at the same time. For this ruse to work, she has to stick around untill the cardgame is done. Her eyes narrow at him as he settles in at the chair and has to refrain from rolling her eyes.

So she does her duty as a trophy, she even goes as far as lightly flirting, even if her whole heart isn't in it, but she doesn't move from his side, there isn't any sense in trying to fuel any idea of the both of them cheating.

Unlike the thuggish player at the table, he is in fact cheating, but not in the way any others would notice. A ghost stand behind him, and whispers into his ear when he needs it. This is her whole reason for attending, but she doesn't act immediately. She needs to wait for the right time, and use the right moment to slip out and remove the ghost's tether to this building.

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