<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/f6/2f/a5/f62fa5ec335683b23a1a6916eace3b16.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Character Name</strong>: Roxy Lebeau (Ruse)<br/><strong>Date/Time</strong>:  (19:58 pm), April 19th 2017<br/><strong>Location</strong>: Josie's Bar, Hells Kitchen,  New York City<br/><strong>Wearing</strong>: Black Baseball Cap, Black Canvas Jacket, Grey shirt, Jeans, Boots<br/><strong>Tagged</strong>: Captain America, Wolverine, Wasp, Rogue, Shadowcat, Black Knight, Deadpool, Meggan, Punisher<br/><strong>Warnings</strong>: None<br/><br/><hr/><br/><em> “So, I was thinking of gettin’ out of town for a li’l while, got any ideas of where I should go?”  The cellphone was pressed up to the side of her head as she was already driving, taking the highway out of New Orleans, but well… He didn’t need to know that.  While impulsive moments ran through their family like a wild fire – she wasn’t usually that impulsive and she knew that it might very well draw his attention to that detail.  The dark haired woman smiled as she had known exactly where he would offer, “non mon frere, we had this talk before didn’t we?”  He had tried several times since her abilities finally came forward to talk her into going into that damn school.  <br/><br/>It wasn’t really her speed needless to say.  <br/><br/>Back then it had been for other obvious reasons, but even now.  While it might offer her some form of… safety it wasn’t what she was looking for.  “Well… Yes, I s’pose I could go to New York anyways… Oh yea?”  She listened as her big brother told her about the fact there was word floatin’ about that a certain Captain might be looking to get some new folks together once more.  “Huh...”  But was it really something she could do?  She had left the hero lifestyle for her brother, and boy was she ever proud of him.  “Y’right, doesn’t do no harm in checkin’ it out,” she finally relented.  “Right then, I better get offa this before I get pulled over by th’police.    Send me th’details will ya?”  Smiling, her eyebrow rose for a moment and she laughed, “me?  Trouble?  Remy y’talkin’ as if you don’t know me a’tall… Love y’too mon frere.  We’ll catch up once I drop boots down.”  Hitting the end button on her phone, she tossed it onto the passenger seat and settled in for what was going to be a long ride, dual tailipipes humming with life as she hit the gas.</em><br/><br/>~~<br/><br/><strong>April 19th, Josie’ Bar, Hells Kitchen.  Be nice.  They’ll be expecting you.</strong><br/><br/>Glancing down at the text message her brother Remy had sent her two days ago had given her caused her to take a deep breath and shook her head just a little bit.  While she was just as confident as anyone in her damn family, it was a sense of apprehension for other reasons.  Roxy wasn’t the sort that was ever going to be the super hero, she didn’t want that sort of life or<em>responsibility</em>, and for a while things had been good,<strong>real</strong>good.  She had lived comfortably, and had done a few things here and there that might not have been considered one hundred percent totally legal or respectable.  But it never hurt no one, but if she wound up back in New Orleans due to circumstances beyond her control – she could wind up being the one hurt for that simple reason.  Roxy Lebeau for all of her vim and vigor, piss and vinegar at times, and being as sweet as southern iced tea… didn’t want to hurt anyone either.<br/><br/>Shaking her head again, “right,” she said under her breath before sliding the cellphone into the pair of tight pants she was wearing and opened up the truck door, literally having to jump down just to get out of the damn thing.  People used to make fun of her because her truck was so high, a lift kit that would make most mud runners jealous.  But just because she was small didn’t mean she couldn’t handle it.  Slamming shut the door behind her, she slipped the keys into her pocket and hit another button – arming a device that would insure no one would be able to get into the truck and get it started, it was her baby after all, and took off across the street to the bar which was already rather raucous and loud.  “M’kinda place,” she said softly under her breath with a smile.<br/><br/>Ducking under the arm of a man who was opening up the door to step outside, she gave a beguiling full lipped smile at him, a wink, before she made her way further into the place.  Some people, she knew their faces, other people… She only had heard of their names before.  However, the short spirited woman glanced around for a moment, raising an eyebrow as she spotted Deadpool.  Everyone who was anyone knew Deadpool, and he was always so easily spotted, what?  With that red skin tight body suit of his.  Her head tilted slightly before she clocked someone who was making time at the pool table who didn’t look like he was too into the game.  Then to the other two people who were nearby the mercenary, but that was all she spotted, who she spotted.  Lips pursing for a moment, she walked up towards the bar, wallet in hand.  “Scuze me,” she called the bartender over in that ever soft southern accent, “now hon, could I possibly get a three fingers o’whiskey, one of those draft beers right there,” she pointed towards one of the local brews, “and hmmm…shot o’jaeger t’go into it?”  A slight little noise came from her as he asked for her ID.  She was never going to get used to that.  “Here,” she slid out her ID with a slight huff.  After the bartender scrutinized the ID she took it back, “merci beaucoup,” the soft smile returning to her lips as the money is set down on the table.<br/><br/>Remy had said they’d be expecting her, but by that, she had to wonder if they were at all, or if she would have to party crash.  There were after all presents and the sort.  But certainly she had to be in the right place because after all – Deadpool was here, and honestly it didn’t seem like his sort of bar.  It was too clean, plus the guy by the pool table.  “’Bon jour,” she would say to the trio that was close to her, and raised her whiskey to her lips, slugging it back as if it were mothers milk, before flipping the glass down on the bartop and then picking up the shot of jaeger and dropping it into the beer.  So far… So good.<br/><br/>But see, that’s the funny thing about life… Just when you think it was going okay….<br/><br/>Well.. usually something big, mean, and nasty comes in and tries to mess it all up.<br/><br/>