Please, leave all overcoats, canes and top hats with the doorman.

[playsforkeeps]

Who; playsforkeeps and OPEN
What; BS, cards, pool, etc and getting to know a few things about all of you
Where; A random bar in that area of the market
When; Thursday (the 1st), Evening
Rating; =/ I'll give it a PG-13 to start
Status; OPEN;;Ongoing

Comments

[suaveleather]

The Underworld was not a bad place. Any person who was raised on the rougher side of life could see its appeal, especially an ex-assassin who only wanted a new start. Unfortunately there were others who knew of him around and the connections he made in this place was frightening. Such as Starwind. Things were moving too fast and connections were becoming too deep. He had heard when there was talk of a son left behind. Zevran could not deal with that.

So now he was to be found visiting each bar, searching for a good looking man or woman to share his bed for the evening. Or any type of furniture for any amount of time, really.

His eyes had caught on a pretty blond and he was tempted to visit her at the pool table before he realised he was not the only one watching. Zevran slipped into the shadows, moving through the bar before coming out behind Remy and chuckled.

"This is a wonderful place, is it not my friend? Beautiful woman, plenty of alcohol and games, and all the time in the world."

[playsforkeeps]

Years of practice, growing up and in practical application, had given Remy the ability to never worry about jumping when people approached him, though he did pick up both his whiskey glass and the coaster underneath it as well, cutting his eyes toward the sound of the voice, several inches below his own.

Well, if that didn't beat all. He looked all the part of an old world Assassin, with pointed ears, even. A slow smile spread across his lips as he looked back to the pool table and the voluptuous blond leaning over to rack her balls.

"Could be a lot worse an' no mistake, homme." He looked back to the elf. "Don't think I've had de pleasure."

[suaveleather]

Zevran had to give the man credit where it was due, he barely flinched at his own approach. That said something about the man, piquing his interest so he looked up with a smirk.

"Ah, neither have I my friend. My name is Zevran, former assassin, current appreciator of the Underworld's fine displays of beauty. Such as that lovely woman." He smirks as he looks back to the woman, an eye raising as she leaned over to shoot. She was going to miss, yes, but she would look very nice doing so.

Zevran looked back up. "And what is your name, my new friend?"

[playsforkeeps]

He raised an eyebrow at this 'Zevran'. "Former Assassin, eh?" He swirled his whiskey glass as he watched the woman take her clumsy shot. Her eyes raised briefly and as Remy's found hers across the bar, he smiled and tilted his head gently in her direction, nonchalantly gesturing with his glass.

And still, his conversation didn't miss a beat. "I didn't take de Assassin's Guild as a club you got to quit."

[suaveleather]

Zevran chuckled as he watched the exchange between the stranger and the woman, giving the man silent points for a subtle charm. His eyebrows raised slightly as he leaned against the wall, smirk in place as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"There is hardly an Assassin's Guild down here, now is there? And you, my friend, didn't answer my question. What is your name?"

His eyes followed the woman as she readied herself for another shot, taking in the form with appreciation before flashing her a quick wink. A woman like that, dead or alive, had to know she was being watched.

[playsforkeeps]

"Dey call me Gambit." Simply stated, and he moved on fairly quickly. The woman, sultry as she was, didn't seem interested, and while he could certainly...persuade her, it wasn't the point if his outing. The, well elf he guessed, had a device, so he was a lot more important to Remy than the dead girl at the pool table.

Besides, he liked a little warmth under his hands, anyway. "And I reckon you got a point. Ain't a Thieves Guild, neither. Small blessings, non?"

[suaveleather]

"Gambit? What sort of name is that?" He grinned, chuckling as he continued to watch the woman. No, he had no plans to pursue the woman, not when there were friends and connections to be made. Still it was nice to look.

"A thief? Ah, now that is a fun occupation. What sort of items did you steal, my friend?" He could only assume they were expensive enough that the Thieves Guild worked similarly to the Crows.

[playsforkeeps]

"A nickname." He said, with a chuckle of his own. The grin that accompanied it grew wider as he looked to Zevran. "Best job dere is, Zevran." He gave a noncommittal shrug. "All kinds of things."

[suaveleather]

Another chuckle escaped as his eyes shifted across the bar, searching for a new person to watch. "Ah, well then Gambit I'm afraid I'll have to disagree with you about what the best job is. Being an assassin has all the positives of being a thief and more. So now, my odd speaking acquaintance, how long have you been here?"

[playsforkeeps]

He chuckled as he sipped at his drink, shaking his head gently. "I heard dis argument a thousand times, Zevran. Got old a long time ago." He turned to him more fully. "But, I reckon it's a good sign you ain't tryin' t' kill me fo' existin'. Dat's pretty old too.

Been here 'bout a week, give or take," he continued, but he knew full well how long he'd been there exactly. It was just old habit really, practiced, careful carelessless.

[suaveleather]

Zevran smirked, "I try to avoid working for free, especially when the person is amusing. Now if somebody decides they dislike your existence and offer me a good sum I may change my mind. For now you're safe, my friend. So what is it about you that drives others to murder?"

That was a lie, there was no amount of money that would drive him to kill another in this place. Though there were a few he would consider doing for free.

[playsforkeeps]

"Don't know how things run in yo' neck of de Universe, Zevran, but where I come from, bein' a Thief be enough to bring all de Assassins down on yo' head." He gave a dismissive shrug, though.

"'Course, Gambit's pretty good at makin' enemies all by his lonesome." He tilted his head curiously toward the elf. "What about you, mon ami. Killin' start turnin' yo' stomach?"

[suaveleather]

He raised an eyebrow and shrugged, "It's only a problem if you interfere with an Assassin's business, my friend. The Crows would rather recruit one and twist them to their own purpose than kill them." He chuckled. "Though, if they wouldn't join I have seen them killed."

It was nothing personal, only work. The Crows were not a nice crowd, something well known in Thedas but that hardly mattered in the Underworld. "I never wanted to be an assassin in the beginning. They bought me as a child, an investment, and I have paid my worth several times over I think. It is not the killing that turns my stomach. That is quite fun."

[playsforkeeps]

"Where I come from, dere's a feud been ragin' fo' hundreds of years between de Thieves and de Assassins." He spoke with the same nonchalance, as someone talks about the weather, and honestly, it might as well have been to the life-long Thief.

He raised an eye at the second part, though. "Yo' a slave?"

[suaveleather]

Zevran actually laughed at that, tilting his head upwards before grinning at the man. "Ah, Gambit, my new friend, never mention slavery around here. Especially if you meet another elf named Fenris. It is a... sore topic."

He lowered his head, chuckling again. "Elves are often slaves or the lowest class citizens in my world. My mother was a whore who died in childbirth. I spent some years in the whorehouse, being raised by the women, but ultimately had to be sold. You know how it goes."

There was no bitterness in his voice. It was a statement of fact and he spoke about it almost as if it was funny.

[playsforkeeps]

Remy had always guessed, from how most of the people from his world dress, they were from some backwoods world. It wasn't like his was any better. Every day, mutants were tormented, shot on sight in some cases, treated like second-class citizens...it wasn't anything he wasn't used to, and sure, there were a few people out there who looked past the weird eyes or the blue skin, but for the most part, well, you could say he knew where Zevran was coming from.

"I hear ya, mon ami. Story goes my Mamma got one look at dese eyes and threw me in de nearest orphanage. I don't remember all dat, but I remember de place. Ran from dere first chance I got. Lived on de street fo' a while before I decided to try to pick de wrong pocket, non? De Patriarch of de Thieves Guilde coulda had me killed, but I guess he took a shine to me, took me in, raised me as his own. He's de only man I'd ever call Papa." He shrugged. "Least ways, mutants get kicked outta de nice restaurants on a good day, buses bombed de next, just 'cause we're different."