Day 53: Music Room

[rocksthecourt]

Well, if it wasn't his favorite time of the week. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder. Of course in this case, distance makes Klavier feel like an abused, neglected animal who was only now being allowed a taste of actual food. These people were such savages. It was still absolutely absurd that they were allowed access to this room so

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[hiddenbadass]

He was going to hand it over, just like that? Mike raised an eye ridge--no, eyebrow--at him, but he took it a bit awkwardly, almost dropping it. Damnit, these fingers. The grip was all wrong, spread across four fingers instead of two.

"Thanks," Mike held up the player for a moment, then shifted it around in his hand, managing to get his thumb onto the button to open it.

He blinked at the lack of CD in it. Oh well. Mike would have to find one, but at least he was halfway to listening to some music again. Unless the batteries were dead. Mike pressed the top of the CD player against his opposite shoulder to close it, then held it sideways, which was easier.

He glanced back over to Remy, then. Maybe this guy had some more information. Couldn't hurt to--

Mike's thoughts stopped dead as someone got a bit too close to him from the side. His eyes shifted towards the person, and then, after a moment of consideration, he looked back to Remy. Not a threat. Just a little too close for comfort.

Might as well at least say his name. If the guy was friendly enough to give up his CD player without a fight, he could be a useful ally. Not that giving up a CD player meant as much as saving another's life or something, but it was still a little, appreciated gesture.

"Name's Michelangelo," he stated, his face remaining his usual impassiveness as he pretended he hadn't reacted a moment before; he'd also offer his hand, but it was currently occupied. "But they like to call me Michael, here."

[justthedealer]

"Like de painter?" Or the ninja turtle, but more likely the first option. Remy raised an eyebrow right back at the strange man - and there was definitely a lot that was strange about him. Straight off, his mannerisms were those of someone confused, unadjusted to the situation in a larger sense than it just being a mental hospital. In other words, he looked like the sort of person who might actually belong there, but the mutant wasn't going to be that quick to judge.

He would have offered a hand, but Michaelangelo's seemed occupied. "You can call me Gambit." He'd started giving out that name now, so there was no sense in changing it to his real one. Even if it was obviously an alias, most people here seemed content to accept that. It wasn't exactly the most unusual name anyone had offered sense he'd been there, either, seeing as he'd worked with a girl named Lightning just the night before.

"Seems we're both a bit new here, neh?" That, at least, didn't take much guesswork.

[hiddenbadass]

"Yeah, like the painter," Mike replied, almost seeming to smile for a moment; actually, both options were right, but it's not like Remy would know that.

Mike was perfectly sane. He was just completely unused to being human and completely unused to suddenly being thrust into social situation after another. The former turtle usually avoided people. Mike didn't like crowds, but he was controlling his emotions enough now that he wasn't focusing on that.

And then the man introduced himself, and dealing with crowds and people seemed like nothing. Gambit? Gambit? Mike did a double-take, and looked him over from head to toe. The hair, the Cajun accent. Mike even suspected that he knew what he was hiding behind those sunglasses.

This was all impossible.

Then again, Mike was back from the dead and was in the body of the human. Just because Gambit was only a comic book character in his world didn't mean that he didn't exist in some other version of earth. Don had mentioned something about there being a theoretical infinity number of universes or something like that.

Mike had to sit down at this realization, so he did, in the chair opposite of Remy. He wasn't quite ready to believe the man--who knew, maybe he was really nuts and was just a good cosplayer--but he was definitely interested now.

Finally, he managed to blank the surprised expression off his face, and nodded to Gambit's question. "Yeah, just got here. At least their pizza is good, but not as good as New York's."

[justthedealer]

That was more surprise than Remy expected at the mention of his name, and he definitely made a mental note of it. That was recognition, and he wouldn't turn aside the possibility that the two of them were from the same place even if he didn't recognize the man. Michaelangelo didn't look like he was ready to share why he was so thrown off by that, so Remy played it up like he hadn't seen it.

There were other good parts of the conversation to work with instead, after all. "Oh, you from de Big Apple? I'm from de Big Easy." He grinned, as if the accent hadn't been enough of a giveaway. Well, maybe if one didn't happen to be from Earth... There were one or two people he'd spoken with so far who just seemed weirded out by it.

"Personally, I'd prefer a good jambalaya, but apparently dat ain't on de menu any time soon." Stereotypes? What were those?

[hiddenbadass]

Good. The X-Man wasn't going to bring up his reaction. Made it simpler and less of a chance Mike might slip up. The last thing he wanted was to make up some terrible excuse on the fly. He never had been good at that.

"I couldn't tell," Mike replied--but whether it was a joke or sarcasm, his expression didn't say; it wasn't meant to be taken harshly, either way.

The comment about Jambalaya, however, made Mike smirk a little. "Always wanted to try that. Heard Southern food's pretty good. Real Southern food."

Food. Now that was a topic that Mike could get behind, now that he was going to get more of it. At least, until he escaped. Then he'd be on his own again.

[justthedealer]

"Mon dieu. You been missin' out on life if you never had a good taste of N'Orleans." Remy leaned forward, tilting down his sunglasses a bit to get a better look at Michaelangelo over them. If the former turtle had any doubts about the mutant's eyes before, they'd be tossed out now. "If I might be allowed t'boast some, I'd say I make a mean jambalaya. If de nurses ever decided t'let me behind de stove, which dey won't, I'll get everyone a taste of de bayou."

The food around here, while not necessarily bad, was just... bland and ordinary. Now having been in bad situations before where the blandest of food would have a treat from heaven, he knew this was a silly thing to be complaining about, but he wasn't going to be giving this place any compliments.

He leaned forward with a sly smile. "Dat's de new secondmost top item on my list of t'ings t'get done. 1) Escape. 2) Get Michaelangelo some sothern cookin'."

[hiddenbadass]

There were no doubts about Gambit's eyes now, and it made Mike blink. They weren't contacts, or they were damn good ones if they were. It was starting to look as if this guy was on the level. Or that Mike really belonged in an insane asylum, but he doubted that. He knew he had issues, but not those kind of issues.

The offer to make him food, however, blew him away. Not only was a near stranger offering to make him food out of the blue, but that stranger was fucking Gambit. Shock clearly registered across Mike's face, an expression more vulnerable than the last time, and he found himself staring at Gambit again.

Sure, April had always shared what food the Resistance had in exchange for his help, as he wouldn't accept handouts, but this was different. Cooking that sort of food took time and effort. Finding the ingredients took time and effort. Southern hospitality. Damn.

Mike reeled in his shock as quickly as possible, and wiped his face of emotion. Except, after a moment, a small smile crept back onto it. Mike's weakness was still food; he had simply forgotten about it until now.

It also helped to know that he wasn't the only one planning an escape. Any plan would be more likely to succeed if multiple, competent people worked on it. The idea of being able to work with one of the X-Men was also pretty awesome.

Escape. Eat Gambit's food and somehow find his family. The second two goals weren't equal--family first, but perhaps he could catch a meal along the way.

"We have goals in common, then," Mike smiled softly; he placed the CD player on his lap and offered his hand to the other mutant. "And you can call me Mike."

[justthedealer]

"Mike it is, den." And Remy knew escape was the main goal of most people in the Institute right now. His discussion with Kratos before had made that apparent if it hadn't been already. It didn't need to be said, but it didn't hurt to have that assurance now and then that there were others to turn to for help - even if Logan had warned him about trusting anyone here.

Speaking of his clawed friend, he hadn't seen the man around yet at all that day. Was it too soon to be worrying about him, or should he leave a note on the bulletin? He could give it until the next day and hope his delay didn't mean terrible things for his fellow X-Man. Logan might just get annoyed with him if he kept tabs too often. The man wasn't exactly incapable of taking care of himself.

Meanwhile, Mike here was an interesting fellow. Remy liked someone who was appreciative of an offered meal. You couldn't say that about everyone nowadays - not even himself sometimes. He looked like he came from some rough times, so perhaps it wasn't all that surprising.

For a change of topic, he nodded toward the nearby 'band'. "So whatcha t'ink of de ambiance?"

[hiddenbadass]

Mike glanced over at the 'band' when Remy mentioned it, and didn't seem too terribly concerned. "Some of them are good."

Really, some of them were. It could have always been worse. Always. Been a while since he heard instruments like that. Singing wasn't as rare, back home. People still sang when they thought no one was listening, or when they were with part of the resistance and it was that season. Not that often; mothers in the resistance would sing to their children.

But this music was different. It wasn't meant to comfort or an attempt to escape their lives. They were doing it for fun.

No matter how bad some of them could end up being, Mike really couldn't complain.

[justthedealer]

Remy gave the man a slight grin at that. He was right, after all. Some of them were good. The mutant could appreciate someone who took that outlook and didn't immediately complain about those that weren't. (He could get nitpicky with the best of them, though.)

Yeah, he kinda liked this guy. Hopefully he wouldn't have to fight him any time in the near future. Logan's ominous warning was still hanging over his head. Unfortunately, that particular X-Man didn't make a habit of spouting off random lies. (Even if he'd called but Nightcrawler and Spider-man "twelve" when clearly at least one of them wasn't. That was just another part of his character.)

"Some are, oui." He glanced down at the CD player, motioning to it with a brief gesture. "Did you still wanna find somthin' t'stick in dat?"

[hiddenbadass]

Oh, he would've whined had he been thirty years younger, or maybe he would have even joined them. But he wasn't that turtle anymore. Hell, he wasn't even a turtle anymore.

Mike didn't plan on fighting any of the other patients anytime soon. Best not to make enemies out of potential allies. He definitely didn't plan on touching Remy anytime soon. The guy was one of the X-Men, and he'd much rather have them as friends instead of enemies.

Last thing he wanted was to get his shell handed to him by Jean Grey. If she was even in this place. Probably wasn't. Which raised another question.

"I'm fine without somethin'," Mike replied, putting the CD player down on a nearby end table. "... Been wondering'--do people sometimes get taken from the same worlds?"

[justthedealer]

It didn't look like the CD player was going to be seeing any use that shift after all, and it was just as well. It would be harder to hear it with all the background noise anyway. He was surprised the two of them had been able to carry on a conversation as well as they had.

The question, however, caused him to frown in thought. "See, now I ain't th'best person t'be askin' dat sorta t'ing. I still don't know de ins an' outs of dis place, or what 'worlds' people be comin' from, or any of dat. You be better off askin' someone dat's been around longer." Even if Logan didn't think any of them could be trusted, Remy didn't have any reason yet to believe that they weren't all just stuck in the same situation.

"Sorry I ain't much help."