[The video cuts on to show a by now familiar scene, the docks and the barren bank of the river over which everyone has arrived at some point or another. The figure standing in front of the camera reaches into a pocket of his light brown duster, pulls out a pack of cigarettes, and taps one out, slipping it deftly between his lips and flicking a
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I...don't know what you just said. [Except that it sounded Orlesian.]
Yes, that would be the lights. I'd advise finding shelter before exploring; much of the residential area is empty and open to claim.
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[He looks off toward the city.]
Well, ain't dat just convenient.
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I guess you're in luck, there's quite a few of us here with intelligence.
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Good thank you, and you mein freund?
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[A pause as he bends to pick up the tablet.]
De nasties 'round dese parts come clean about why we're here yet?
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You may want to define 'intelligent'. For the most part the answer is yes. You are in the Underworld now and, if you have yet to encounter any monsters, you will soon. Welcome.
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[He eyes flick over his shoulder then back to the feed.]
De Underworld, eh?
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[What is with his accent?]
Is it safe to assume your name is Gambit? Or did you bring a friend?
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[And yes he does smile at that pun.]
Oui, de name's Gambit. What's yours, petit?
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Bonjour, Mamma Mistique. We gotta quit meetin' like dis, chere. People gonna start talkin'.
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This is. What is he playing at?]
Since when am I "Mamma"?
...you're not with Rogue still, are you...?
[DID THEY GET MARRIED!? WHAT THE HELL!? IS HER LIFE OVER??]
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[That shit-eating grin. How he knows she loathes it.]
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...is that even English?
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...I t'ink I know you, homme. [Not that he's going to hint how he knows you.] Do I owe you money?
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