[ Natasha isn't quite as much of a mess by the time he gets there. She doesn't stagger coming out of the bar, or seem like she's wobbling. Her eyes are focused. Honestly, that Asgardian stuff was wicked to a mere mortal. She was definitely going to stick to vodka.
She gives a slight wave to show she's seen the car before getting in and letting out a sigh. ] You always rescue the drunk girls, or just the ones that know how to kick your ass?
She gives a slight wave to show she's seen the car before getting in and letting out a sigh. ] You always rescue the drunk girls, or just the ones that know how to kick your ass?
Why wouldn’t I be?
the breaks weren't working and it was heading straight to a busy intersection
seemed like the best way to stop it without getting anyone hurt.
seemed like the best way to stop it without getting anyone hurt.
[ Entering Charles' office, both of Logan's brows lift in surprise as he gets a whiff of the air. ] You smell nice today.
[ Not that Charles doesn't always smell nice to him, but he smells especially so right now. Logan chuckles, knowing well enough the reason for the extra cologne, and comes forward until he's plopped into the seat on the other side of Charles' desk. ]
Parents' Night getting to you that bad, huh.
[ Not that Charles doesn't always smell nice to him, but he smells especially so right now. Logan chuckles, knowing well enough the reason for the extra cologne, and comes forward until he's plopped into the seat on the other side of Charles' desk. ]
Parents' Night getting to you that bad, huh.
[Charles looked over when Logan walked in, giving him a rather deadpan look before sighing.]
Of course it is. When does it not?
[He looked almost longingly at the bottle of good bourbon he kept on the other side of the room. Though he wouldn't partake until afterwards. He refused to meet any of the parents with the smell of alcohol on his breath.]
Sometimes I just wonder why parents have to be so...so...well. Stubborn?
Of course it is. When does it not?
[He looked almost longingly at the bottle of good bourbon he kept on the other side of the room. Though he wouldn't partake until afterwards. He refused to meet any of the parents with the smell of alcohol on his breath.]
Sometimes I just wonder why parents have to be so...so...well. Stubborn?
"That's the house?"
Logan turned to look at Scott where he stood next to him, his arms crossing over his chest. "That's where Marcus Hollander lives?"
Because the house in front of them was dilapidated and broken-- the grass was tall to high hell, the streetlamp in front of it was busted, and Logan wasn't even entirely certain that the broken rocking horse on the yard wasn't cursed, for fuck's sake.
The whole thing smelled of rot. Smelled like a place that nobody should be living in. Already he worried for the state of the kid they were looking for; what the hell were his parents supposed to be, junkies?
"I'm not going in there before you do, Slim."
Logan turned to look at Scott where he stood next to him, his arms crossing over his chest. "That's where Marcus Hollander lives?"
Because the house in front of them was dilapidated and broken-- the grass was tall to high hell, the streetlamp in front of it was busted, and Logan wasn't even entirely certain that the broken rocking horse on the yard wasn't cursed, for fuck's sake.
The whole thing smelled of rot. Smelled like a place that nobody should be living in. Already he worried for the state of the kid they were looking for; what the hell were his parents supposed to be, junkies?
"I'm not going in there before you do, Slim."
"Yeah.. Unfortunately."
Scott sighed as he looked at the ghastly looking house. It was no place for a child to grow up in and it was his absolute priority to get him out of there.
The smell had the leader covering half of his face as he stepped closer, reaching the door through the tall grass.
"Okay. But I need you right behind me, Logan. This might get tough."
With one last glance at his partner, he opened the creaking door and faced an even more worrying sight. The house was slowly falling apart.
Scott sighed as he looked at the ghastly looking house. It was no place for a child to grow up in and it was his absolute priority to get him out of there.
The smell had the leader covering half of his face as he stepped closer, reaching the door through the tall grass.
"Okay. But I need you right behind me, Logan. This might get tough."
With one last glance at his partner, he opened the creaking door and faced an even more worrying sight. The house was slowly falling apart.
[ Matt isn't even conscious when the decision is made to remove him from the church's care, although somewhere deep in his mind, he's aware of a familiar presence taking him to an unfamiliar place. It's mostly painkillers and his body's desperate need to heal that are keeping him from waking, however. So as the discomfort starts to assert itself again, his mind's need to understand what's going on pushes to the surface.
Smell greets him first. His hearing is partly muffled by a ringing in his ears that makes it difficult to focus on individual sounds, but his nose is working well enough. ]
Cigars... [ Voice rasping from disuse, he mumbles his way to full consciousness, a figure from the past rising up from his memory. ] Mr. Howlett?
Smell greets him first. His hearing is partly muffled by a ringing in his ears that makes it difficult to focus on individual sounds, but his nose is working well enough. ]
Cigars... [ Voice rasping from disuse, he mumbles his way to full consciousness, a figure from the past rising up from his memory. ] Mr. Howlett?
God, [ there's a hint of a laugh there, somewhere ] I forgot how sensitive your nose was.
[ Typical bedside manner would assume a gasp and relieved joy when a coma patient got up, but Matt had never smelled like he was in trouble. He'd just smelled like he needed rest.
Now he's up-- even if that's in the most basic sense of the word-- and Logan puts the cigar out into the ash tray he'd taken with him to sit by the window. ]
Sorry about the smell, kid. [ Pause. ] You want water?
[ Typical bedside manner would assume a gasp and relieved joy when a coma patient got up, but Matt had never smelled like he was in trouble. He'd just smelled like he needed rest.
Now he's up-- even if that's in the most basic sense of the word-- and Logan puts the cigar out into the ash tray he'd taken with him to sit by the window. ]
Sorry about the smell, kid. [ Pause. ] You want water?
[ There's National Geographic on the television and Logan's sitting on the bed with Matt, watching the special on insects and how they lure their prey in. It's been a week since Matt first woke up, and though the first few days he was too weak to even walk, lately Logan's been helping him get some strength in his legs again after spending so long unconscious.
They've just finished one of those exercises, as the sweat on Matt's face probably indicates, and even if the bed's too small for them to sit in any way that isn't shoulder-to-shoulder, Logan doesn't mind the sweat that's smearing onto his own skin.
A spider consumes its prey. Logan's eyes narrow at the screen. ]
They're smart little bastards, aren't they.
They've just finished one of those exercises, as the sweat on Matt's face probably indicates, and even if the bed's too small for them to sit in any way that isn't shoulder-to-shoulder, Logan doesn't mind the sweat that's smearing onto his own skin.
A spider consumes its prey. Logan's eyes narrow at the screen. ]
They're smart little bastards, aren't they.
[ These past days have been frustrating for a man who's used to running across the roofs of buildings, but Logan's patient dedication to helping him heal has been the balm necessary to keep Matt from wanting to give up. Intellectually he knows he couldn't be expected to just jump right back into the fray. But try telling that to the inner voice that keeps count of how many people he's not helping while he lies around eating soup and doing stretches.
Once or twice he's shown a little of the infamous Murdock temper. Logan never seems fazed by it.
Never gives up on him, either. And always seems to know how much to push before insisting on a break. ]
Quiet, too. [ Matt leans his head over to rest against the other man's shoulder, eyes closed as he listens to Logan's commentary. ] Isn't there a spider-guy running around fighting crime in uptown?
Once or twice he's shown a little of the infamous Murdock temper. Logan never seems fazed by it.
Never gives up on him, either. And always seems to know how much to push before insisting on a break. ]
Quiet, too. [ Matt leans his head over to rest against the other man's shoulder, eyes closed as he listens to Logan's commentary. ] Isn't there a spider-guy running around fighting crime in uptown?
i thought i was ready for the homoerotic tension but i wasn't
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
danzan
- 2018-09-28 16:25 (UTC) - Expand[ Logan only has enough sense to put the beer in the fridge before he sniffs Victor out and finds him.
And huffs, because the scent of his arousal hasn't dwindled even through the fifteen minute drive home. ]
You're an asshole, you know that? [ His jacket is shrugged off to the floor. ]
And huffs, because the scent of his arousal hasn't dwindled even through the fifteen minute drive home. ]
You're an asshole, you know that? [ His jacket is shrugged off to the floor. ]
[ Victor is lying back on the bed with his arms folded behind his head. His shirt is lying on the floor, having been carelessly discarded while he was texting Logan. He’s still wearing a pair of black pants, but they’re unfastened, and his belt is unbuckled. It had gotten uncomfortable, so his cock is out, seeming harder now than when he’d sent Logan the picture. ]
For getting you a little worked up in public? Don’t be such a prude, Jimmy.
[ Though it’s obvious by his scent that he’s more than just a little worked up, and Victor is loving it. ]
For getting you a little worked up in public? Don’t be such a prude, Jimmy.
[ Though it’s obvious by his scent that he’s more than just a little worked up, and Victor is loving it. ]
If there's one thing the Iron Bull appreciates, it's a good, hard fight. Add to that a scrapper of a human who acts part animal as he's beating down the thugs, and Bull's halfway to being in love.
So maybe the bar fight was a bad idea for the humans involved that had decided to mess with the wrong mutants. Especially when one has literal horns growing out of his head and is built like a tank, but... people can be fucking idiots. He owes it to them though, because if it weren't for that short brawl, he wouldn't have picked up Logan and have brought him over to the abandoned cabin he's currently using as his lodgings for the night to thank him with some 'drinks'.
Which brings them to the present. Bull sat with his ankles crossed by the fire in a rickety stool that's probably going to buckle if he moves wrong, watching Logan with his good eye as they share a bottle of whiskey he'd filched on the way out from the bar.
"Where'd you learn to fight like that?" he asks, voice an amused rumble.
So maybe the bar fight was a bad idea for the humans involved that had decided to mess with the wrong mutants. Especially when one has literal horns growing out of his head and is built like a tank, but... people can be fucking idiots. He owes it to them though, because if it weren't for that short brawl, he wouldn't have picked up Logan and have brought him over to the abandoned cabin he's currently using as his lodgings for the night to thank him with some 'drinks'.
Which brings them to the present. Bull sat with his ankles crossed by the fire in a rickety stool that's probably going to buckle if he moves wrong, watching Logan with his good eye as they share a bottle of whiskey he'd filched on the way out from the bar.
"Where'd you learn to fight like that?" he asks, voice an amused rumble.
Logan doesn't have much of an answer besides a shrug and a, "Had to." But that's the thing about being so fucking old-- there're too many things you need to learn over the years, and sooner or later none of those things will matter.
But he reaches for his turn with the whiskey, tilting his head back to take a good gulp of it-- to enjoy the tickle in his jaw and his throat-- before passing it back.
"Quickest way to deal with assholes is to punch 'em." The warmth from the alcohol fades quickly as his healing factor brings his blood back to normal. Logan rubs at his jaw. "And I've met too many."
But he reaches for his turn with the whiskey, tilting his head back to take a good gulp of it-- to enjoy the tickle in his jaw and his throat-- before passing it back.
"Quickest way to deal with assholes is to punch 'em." The warmth from the alcohol fades quickly as his healing factor brings his blood back to normal. Logan rubs at his jaw. "And I've met too many."
[Being a man who trundles around in a full suit of armour and lugging around a sword nearly his own size has given Sidurgu a sort of strength so few people have managed to accomplish on their own-- and that is aside from his abilities as a dark knight.
However, shedding his suit has an impact on him that he never would have thought possible-- Sidurgu has discovered he's much stronger than he thought, even compared to this man with claws of metal.
Let alone to the commonfolk.]
'S that all you've got?
[He wipes at his brow and his hand comes away with blood. But that's fine. Strength is pain, after all.]
However, shedding his suit has an impact on him that he never would have thought possible-- Sidurgu has discovered he's much stronger than he thought, even compared to this man with claws of metal.
Let alone to the commonfolk.]
'S that all you've got?
[He wipes at his brow and his hand comes away with blood. But that's fine. Strength is pain, after all.]
Jesus. [ Seeing Sidurgu brush the blood away with his hand has Logan's mouth twitching into an amused grin. ] Sid, I don't wanna give you a god damn concussion.
[ Because Logan's knuckles have healed over ages ago, especially because he hasn't been using his claws for this. Bruises are easy, and his healing factor makes them even easier.
But it looks like Sidurgu isn't joking, and Logan shakes his head like he can't believe what's happening... before charging forward again for a straightforward punch to the guy's cheek. ]
[ Because Logan's knuckles have healed over ages ago, especially because he hasn't been using his claws for this. Bruises are easy, and his healing factor makes them even easier.
But it looks like Sidurgu isn't joking, and Logan shakes his head like he can't believe what's happening... before charging forward again for a straightforward punch to the guy's cheek. ]
[One look at X'rhun's face should tell Logan that he's plotting mischief. Of course, perhaps he looks like he's always plotting mischief with that ever-present smile. And with the permanent slits of his eyes... well. Maybe "predatory" is a better description.
Especially with the way he watches Logan go about his business, the Miqo'te simply sitting on his chair with his rapier laying on top of his crossed legs. X'rhun could be the picture of casual plotting for an eventual mess.]
My friend. [His call comes after a while of watching, waiting, and plotting, even if Logan were to question him. Seekers of the Sun may be impatient and quick to make decisions, but they are rather good at waiting when it comes to hunting.
And X'rhun is treating this like a hunt, in a way.]
If I were to ask you to assist me in a slight venture... would you be willing to indulge me?
Especially with the way he watches Logan go about his business, the Miqo'te simply sitting on his chair with his rapier laying on top of his crossed legs. X'rhun could be the picture of casual plotting for an eventual mess.]
My friend. [His call comes after a while of watching, waiting, and plotting, even if Logan were to question him. Seekers of the Sun may be impatient and quick to make decisions, but they are rather good at waiting when it comes to hunting.
And X'rhun is treating this like a hunt, in a way.]
If I were to ask you to assist me in a slight venture... would you be willing to indulge me?
You mean letting you sit in my room without helping me sort my books ain't already indulging you?
[ Because Logan's seated on the floor, grumbling to himself as he tries to sort all his science fiction titles by author. This is the part he'd been dreading-- he had more science fiction than anything else-- and for good fucking reason, given he's been alphabetising them for well over half an hour now.
But he lifts his head, offering X'rhun a mildly unimpressed look and an unexcited tilt of his mouth. ] What do you want?
[ Because Logan's seated on the floor, grumbling to himself as he tries to sort all his science fiction titles by author. This is the part he'd been dreading-- he had more science fiction than anything else-- and for good fucking reason, given he's been alphabetising them for well over half an hour now.
But he lifts his head, offering X'rhun a mildly unimpressed look and an unexcited tilt of his mouth. ] What do you want?
Edited 2018-10-01 14:23 (UTC)
[Fried fogweed has a particular scent about it. Sweet and fresh, fragrant when smoked. It's pleasant to the nose of any human, though a potent repellent for any insect-- that makes it a popular choice among Eorzeans who have certain connections. Connections that a certain adventurer has, indeed, and he gets them cheap. No wonder his rooms constantly has the scent lingering about them, whether or not Rhus is present.
Not to mention the adventurer himself, he might as well wear it like a perfume. It lingers on his skin, mixing in with his natural sea-salt-sun-sky scent, expels from his mouth and nose after a drag from his pipe as if he were a dragon instead of a Miqo'te when he parts his lips to tease a kiss from Logan's mouth.]
Not to mention the adventurer himself, he might as well wear it like a perfume. It lingers on his skin, mixing in with his natural sea-salt-sun-sky scent, expels from his mouth and nose after a drag from his pipe as if he were a dragon instead of a Miqo'te when he parts his lips to tease a kiss from Logan's mouth.]
[ Logan stares, quiet. ] Really just gonna breathe that in my face, huh.
[ Not that it's a bad thing; on the contrary, he already likes the way that Rhus smells on a daily basis, and whatever he smokes is always so god damn sweet. It's not sickly sweet, but natural, like fruits. Except it's smoke.
And Logan breathes that smoke-- and Rhus' scent-- in, but he doesn't move from where he's settled on his belly, his arms folded beneath his head and his cheek resting lightly atop them. ]
I ain't movin', y'know.
[ Not that it's a bad thing; on the contrary, he already likes the way that Rhus smells on a daily basis, and whatever he smokes is always so god damn sweet. It's not sickly sweet, but natural, like fruits. Except it's smoke.
And Logan breathes that smoke-- and Rhus' scent-- in, but he doesn't move from where he's settled on his belly, his arms folded beneath his head and his cheek resting lightly atop them. ]
I ain't movin', y'know.
[ Logan laughs before he realises he's laughing. Just-- looks at the message, the absurdity of four-hundred dollar shoes, and presses his mouth to his hand for a moment because it's embarrassing hearing himself guffawing the way he is. ]
I'm not fucking Fitzgerald, Johnny. I just teach the shit he wanted to say.
And I don't think you'd be happy raising goats from a cabin, anyway.
I'm not fucking Fitzgerald, Johnny. I just teach the shit he wanted to say.
And I don't think you'd be happy raising goats from a cabin, anyway.
I know you're not, but you cannot deny your passion for shitting on the ridiculousness of the American Dream. Which is sexy as hell.
The cabin part is good, the goats are not.
The cabin part is good, the goats are not.
It's a slower night at the mutant speak-easy and Dorian's kicked back with his feet up and a good book in his hands. He's reading Good Omens for probably the third time since he'd picked it up. His free hand will gently fiddle with one of the rings on his slender fingers, spinning it as he is enamored with his read. The night is still young and the bar is fairly empty for the time being. So when Logan finally tromps his bloody carcass in and sits heavily on a stool, Dorian will peer over the edge of his book and roll his eyes. With a sigh he sets the book somewhere safe, saving his place with a feather. He'll get up, grab a clean cloth and run it under warm water before walking up to Logan and handing it over to him with a bottle of strong whiskey.
"You really ought to shower before you come here." He tips his head, quirking a slender brow at what looks like a knife is sticking out of the man's back. "...it draws too much attention."
He shakes his head, "Do you realize there's a knife in your shoulder."
He points to it, just over the left one stuck in his back near his spine. "Doesn't that hurt? Do you need me to get that?"
"You really ought to shower before you come here." He tips his head, quirking a slender brow at what looks like a knife is sticking out of the man's back. "...it draws too much attention."
He shakes his head, "Do you realize there's a knife in your shoulder."
He points to it, just over the left one stuck in his back near his spine. "Doesn't that hurt? Do you need me to get that?"
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