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Logan left the mansion a day or two ago. Regretted it a few times. Didn't regret it a few times more.
Maybe he wanted to be there, but wantin' something didn't make it so. He had too many sharp edges and too many of those people were soft. Piotr, Kitty, Rogue…even Illyana had a soft side, too soft for the kind of shit they kept getting into.
And Jean. Jean was getting tougher. Logan wasn't sure that was a good thing. And he wouldn't soon forget the sound of her scream when he droves his claws through her.
So he drank. He drank long and hard, in a way he hadn't done in an age. The kind of drink that it takes to actually get him drunk. He was on his third bottle of whiskey and going strong, a cowboy hat tilted back on his wild hair as he sits at the bar.
*
She was a tall drink of water. All black business suit befitting of a woman that was not of her kind, long dark locks that curl around her shoulders and her back with a smile to match. Dark eyes lined with kohl and emphasized with eyeshadow that makes the brown in them pop, a faint glow that touches her mocha brown skin and a killer smile to boot. The woman carried a clutch with her, held upon her hand, diamonds that littered her wrist and nails that extend two inches and painted blood red.
The dark lady takes a seat upon the stool next to Logan, one thick thigh crossed over the other, her glossed, plush lips persing as she considers the options of being told to leave or given swill because of the skin that she wears.
"Do me a favor, Howlett. Buy me a drink."
*
She was a tall drink of water. All black business suit befitting of a woman that was not of her kind, long dark locks that curl around her shoulders and her back with a smile to match. Dark eyes lined with kohl and emphasized with eyeshadow that makes the brown in them pop, a faint glow that touches her mocha brown skin and a killer smile to boot. The woman carried a clutch with her, held upon her hand, diamonds that littered her wrist and nails that extend two inches and painted blood red.
The dark lady takes a seat upon the stool next to Logan, one thick thigh crossed over the other, her glossed, plush lips persing as she considers the options of being told to leave or given swill because of the skin that she wears.
"Do me a favor, Howlett. Buy me a drink."
*
Logan doesn't need to take a look, the scent alone giving Mystique away. She was getting better at it, though. Maybe someday she'd even be able to fool him. Well…probably not.
"A round for the lady. Whatever she likes," he says. "What brings you around, birdie? I ain't really lookin' to sign up for any jobs right now, I just quit the last one an' I'm feelin' a bit on the surly side," he says.
*
"Whiskey Sour." Raven calls out, giving a nod towards the bartender as she turns just a touch to face Logan. "I've actually come on a little bit of business. Though, not for you." She tilts her head just a touch, even leaning forward, her hand reaching out to tip up the cowboy hat so that she could look him right into the side of his eye.
"And what job was that?" She asks, her tone light. "Finally giving up on protecting kids who don't want to be protected? Did they shun you because even though you're a mutant.. you're a killer and inheritly different? Or did my dear old brother say a few words that had you turn tail to scoot out of his place?"
*
Logan gives a low growl, "Watch your tongue, girl. You're a damn fine killer, I won't deny that, but don't think I won't put you through that wall if you piss me off tonight," he says.
Shrugging, he takes another hit of whiskey, "Just don't belong. Like you said - kids. I don't belong around kids. Just get 'em hurt. Or hurt 'em myself," he says. "Let 'em be heroes. They'll be better ones without me around."
*
"Oh ho ho…" Raven mocks quietly. "And I thought all of the times we've worked and fought together you'd save the little threats and just get straight to the fight." But, her voice was serious, even as her tone lowers and he goes on to explain, her drink was delivered and a little sip was taken, the cherry soon dipped out of the glass with her fingers to roll in between.
"Who was it."
*
Logan snorts, "I threaten because I don't much wanna fight. Had enough of it lately. Just reminding you that my tolerance ain't infinite and there reaches a point where I ain't got much choice 'bout the matter," he says.
"Don't matter," he says. Which, of course, is a lie, the who mattered all too much, mattered enough to make the rest not matter at all. "She'll live and be better off without me darkenin' her doorstep no more," he says. "Now, obviously, I came here to forget about all that, so why don't you get down to business?"
*
"You're a liar." Raven states, plain and simple.
It was about both things that he mentions, and finally the clutch was set upon the bar and left there so that she could focus her full attention upon Logan. "As I said, I'm here for business. But that business does not include you." Her frowns a little, then leans sideways against the back of her stoop. "So, you left because of a girl. A girl that you've obviously hurt and a girl that you were -bound- to hurt." Her hand lowers to press against her side, the memory of it all..
"Do you remember when we last saw each other? Before I gave birth to my son?" She asks, clenching her teeth rather oddly. "He's here. Somewhere in this city. The instant that I heard his cries I thought that he was better off without me as well. And while now that may be the case.." She glances away. "..I am not so sure." She sniffs. "My point is. You don't get to decide who you are better for or not. But I suppose it's a little bit late for that, no?"
*
Logan snorts, "Never said I wasn't one. I'm guessin' about every bad thing there is, I done at some point. I thought maybe I got a second chance about it, but maybe not," he shrugs, "If not, then I deal with it," he says.
He looks at her sharply when she mentions the last time they met years ago, "I got a kid, too. Thought he died with his Mama. He grew up okay without me. Well…he grew up lik eme. Which I guess ain't okay," he says.
*
"So.. since when did anyone say second chances were easy?"
Raven shrugs her shoulders idly, the prospect at Logan having a son was amusing. But so was it for her. "He's alive. That's all that matters. They're both alive." She murmurs slightly. "My son -isn't- like me. Nor his father. In fact, it feels like he's.. a bit holy in that regards." She grins faintly, then reaches out to grasp his shoulder. "Dance with me for a moment."
*
Logan first thinks to push her off but, instead, finds himself going out onto the dance floor, taking her hand. He looks her full in the face for the first time and grins, "Damn, it must be nice to be as purty as you want any damn time you please,' he says.
"Not business with me, huh? Business that's likely to get you killed? Business where you might need someone to watch yer back?" he asks."
*
"Yes. Though, if you'd like.. I can be an ugly ol' broad. Big moles and facial postules. Would that help?"
Though as she begins to sway with Logan, she glances around the bar, those giving the odd couple a right nasty look but she doesn't mind it one bit. Her arms encircle his shoulders, leaning in just a little. "Possibly both." Raven admits, "Possibly not at all. It's just a little social call, is all. Nothing to alarm yourself or myself with." Though, there was a little hint of paranoia there. "Do you remember that time in Prague.. ah.." She couldn't even think of his name. "..ol' peg leg. Thirty years ago.."
*
Logan shakes his head, "Ain't gonna lie, the good looks are taken my mind off it as much as the liquor is," he says. "An' I can tell there's a couple over there gettin' all riled up about us dancin', so I ain't about to stop on their account," he says.
He furrows his brow, "You mean Hermann the Hellcat? Gun-runner? Speakin' o' big ol' moles…he wuz an old man, then. What kinda business could you have with 'im now?"
*
"I figured you say something like that." Raven inacts a turn, one that puts him facing the couple and her the door. Not because she was paranoid, but so that Logan can growl and grimace as he needs to, and feel all the more better for it.
"Ah, Hermann. Yes. Well, naturally he's dead." She states as if she were speaking about the rain. "But apparently someone found something of his that belongs to me. Though, that person managed to contact one of my old aliases, I personally informed that person that I was dead." She sniffs slightly. "Hence the skin I'm in. Though I did agree to meet the person to find out just what it is."
*
Logan makes a show of brushing his cheek against her neck somewhat seductively, putting on a bit of a show for the prejudiced pair, almost asking for the man to try and intervene. Hell, if a black man had been doing the same to a white woman, the fucker might already have taken a swing. They do get all sensitive about their white women.
"You got no idea what it might be? Anything you been missin'? Sometimes, a thing is lost and you wish it stayed that way," he says, his strong hands at her waist.
*
The scruff against her neck actually makes her laugh a little. It wasn't a loud one, but a quietly little snicker-giggle that he's possibly heard too many times before. She was ticklish, and it was something that she herself couldn't help. "No idea.. no." She says quietly into his ear.. there was a half turn again, and a slight lean back with a lift of her brows.
"You're being profound. I hate that." She grins again, then leans in, cheek to cheek to continue their dance. "But if someone goes so far as to contact that name? One -that- old? It must be something important. You remember how that bastard was.."
*
Logan keeps his hand on the small of her back, letting him support her a bit when he gives her something of a dip, the shorter man nestling his face briefly in her cleavage before pulling her back up again.
"I ain't all good looks, doll. Sometimes I say deep shit," he says. "Yeah, I remember. He put more'n one bullet in me on more'n one occasion. The last time, he even knew it wouldn't do any good, he just did it fer spite, the ol' cuss."
*
"Though.. your profoundness does give me cause to actually invite you to this little meet and greet, since you seem so, so very eager to break a bone or two." Raven takes the dip, her dark hair falling into the air like rivulets before she's up again.
"And since this is history that you were apart of, and that damnable nose of yours." Raven considers this. She could at least ask one other, and another other.. but this one requires a simple bit of finesse. Shockingly enough, out of all that Raven considers for this little meet, Logan was actually key. Besides, he knew of Hermann. Maybe this was something for him as well.
"I suppose this place is a good a meet as any. I'll put in the word for tomorrow. I'd say that we should check the exits and the surrounding areas before we leave but I do have something a little bit more fun in mind." And when it comes to Raven and those words? It would indeedily be fun..
*
Logan smirks, "I ain't got noplace to be and nobody to see. Might as well stick with you and see what shakes loose," he says, "Lead on, pretty bird."
*