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So two animals walk into a bar....; :tag Carmilla:
Topic Started: Feb 2 2017, 06:13 PM (210 Views)
Wolverine
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Short Hairy Healing Factor. And claws.
06/11/2016
18:15 prompt

Logan, contrary to his image, did not go on new dates often. The old canadian had a long list of old flames, co-workers at one point or another, friends with benifits, ladies who knew him by his rep, and of course those that couldn't decide between a night with him or a night spent offing him. So when the chance came to add someone new to his life, well, he took it seriously. Among scattered, mixed up, shaken loose memories of his former life were glimpses of a beautiful green haired woman in an eerie place of purple sand.

Such impressions were nothing new for him of course, his brain had been washed, rinsed, repeated, and hung out to dry so many times it was doubtful that anything in it was 100% real. However Logan was a man who liked to chase, so a few quick calls around landed him the name of SHIELD Agent Carmilla Black, Scorpion. The codename had made his nose wrinkle at first, it reminded him of someone in a bug suit with a silly tail and such. He quickly got over this impression though, after all when you’re short, furry, and unloved, who are you to judge?

Logan’s friends in the spy organization quickly offered Black’s personnel file and it was just as quickly declined. Logan had no use for what other people thought of the girl, Carmilla would be who she was and that was always more fun to get to know in person. So he got her number, gave her a call and asked her out for drinks. Something about her just seemed to click in his head, even amidst the repeated warnings about how dangerous she was. In truth perhaps it was the warnings about how dangerous she was that intrigued him. After all for decades he had been dubbed dangerous by everyone around him as well.

Which led to this moment. Logan slid off “his” motorcycle, in reality just one of the ones he often liberated from Scott’s clutches. For all the faults of the X-men’s leader, the man was damn good with vehicles. Smiling Logan walked over to the lady, the agent, the maddening itch in his head, and smiled.

“Well I ain’t pretty, it's damn hard to lay your head on my shoulder, and my hair gets in the way of… well damn near everything. But I’m here, I’m killing it in this suit, and I know every decent bar for 100 miles or so. What do you say? Think this old man might be good company?”

Wombat in a suit
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I'm the best there is at what I do. But what I do best isn't very nice.
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Carmilla Black
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Since she’d been drafted into SHIELD, Carmilla’s life had become surprisingly predictable. Other than missions breaking up the monotony, she spent most of her time working with the scientists, working out, or various other boring pursuits. She’d socialized with other agents, although she was still working on catching up to the world, from the years she’d spent living in the woods trying not to kill anyone. Even now, gauntlet shielding the world from her toxins, she still caught herself when she’d go to touch someone, automatically substituting her right hand for her left in all things. SHIELD had even helped her earn her GED, and she was working on getting a degree in science, like she’d always planned with her foster parents.

Monotony aside, Carmilla was completely astonished to receive a phone call from someone she only had vague memories about – short, strong, somewhat sarcastic – and honestly, she wasn’t even sure where the memories came from. The agent was even more surprised when he asked her on a date, but she accepted readily. A few of her coworkers had teased her, but she took it good naturedly, grinning and teasing back. And other than a moment of nerves when she tried to figure out what to wear – quickly coming to the realization that she really didn’t get out enough, judging by the lack of normal clothes in her wardrobe – she was more interested than anything.

She’d really considered wearing color – but her wardrobe just wasn’t very colorful. It was difficult to wear colors, with hair a vivid emerald green. The best she’d managed to come up with was a short sleeved corset style blouse that faded to sapphire blue at the bottom, along with the laces across her chest. A lightweight leather jacket fell to mid-thigh, the ends of the sleeves belled to allow her more movement of her arms – and to make room for the sleek silver gauntlet that covered her from above her wrist to her knuckles on her left arm. It might’ve been June, but she still wore her usual sturdy black boots, and she had a gun tucked into an ankle holster, as well as one at her back, her SHIELD badge tucked into a pocket of the jacket.

Arriving a little early to the small bar that was the spot he’d picked to meet up, she parked the Kawasaki Ninja sport bike she’d driven, leaning on it lightly. It was a lightweight sport motorcycle, easy handle, and easy maneuverability on streets, especially with her superhuman reflexes. Raking a hand through her loose emerald curls as she tugged the helmet off, tucking it onto the bike for safekeeping, the agent turned as a motorcycle roared up, grinning as she recognized the man getting off. A few of the other agents, upon hearing about her date, had shown her some pictures of Logan – mostly mentioning the fact that no one knew how old he was. Not that it really mattered to her. The introduction got a laugh out of Carm, and she smiled.

“I feel a bit underdressed, now.” She said with a crooked smile. “And I can’t get drunk, but I do love a good drink, so lead the way.” Pushing lightly off the bike she still leaned against, the green haired agent offered her non-gloved right hand to Logan to shake. “Carmilla Black, although obviously you knew that already.” Keeping her left, silver gauntleted hand in her coat pocket, so as not to draw attention to the silver glove device, Carm kept the smile on her face as she approached Logan.
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Wolverine
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Short Hairy Healing Factor. And claws.
Well, the lady didn’t look over his head waiting for someone else so that was a good start. Even better she was smiling. His senses drank in the other details as he approached and took her hand, kissing it of course, as he knew from long experience this always made an impact. The high-performance crotch rocket that was her means of transport, the emerald hair that triggered unclear memories of a place not here, the smell of gun oil and the slight bulges that lined up to it, the hand hidden in her clothes that wasn’t holding anything that smelled like a gun.

Even with super senses and decades of life behind him, Logan had to admit that the girl was easy on the eyes. She stood there accepting him as a date while still poised ready to respond to a situation. He openly, though briefly studied her. This was after all a strange situation for him. He’d often been compelled towards women, Jean, Silver Fox, Ororo, Mariko, many many others whose names didn’t come forward as quickly, but this was the first time he couldn’t place why. She was beautiful, observant, a pretty good dresser, but there was something he just couldn’t get his teeth around here. An itch that continued even as you scratched was the best he could do.

“Well aren’t you pretty as a picture. Gotta say, with everyone tripping over themselves about how dangerous you are, people looked right past the beauty, that’s a shame. As for underdressed, well it’s impolite to try to stop a gent’s heart on the first meeting.”

Logan took a quick look around and let his senses slip away from her to their surroundings. It was old instinct and he was actually saddened to not notice anyone following them. He was sure someone from Xavier's or SHIELD would watch this meeting, trying to figure out what he was up to. Either they were actually under the radar so far or Fury’s boys had learned some new tricks.

The grizzled Canadian kissed her hand again before returning it to the agent.

“Logan, least when I’m out of uniform. The only reason I know your name, darling, is I asked around. Had the oddest idea we’d met before, but hey, my memory plays trick sometimes. So… your ride or mine?”
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Carmilla Black
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The kiss to the hand was over the top enough to make her blush a bit, unused to such things. She felt a bit bad about being armed, but it wasn’t for him, obviously. And when it came down to it, a bullet tended to be less deadly than her powers, and she liked to be prepared for anything. It was habit to keep her left hand in her pocket, even with the protective gauntlet on, because there were too many people in cities for her to be fully confident. Hell, half the time she had to fight the urge to hide her hand when riding her bike. The compliment caused her to blush brightly, and she shook her head at his dismissal of her dangerous side.

“Well, at least they tried to warn you. That means I can’t be held accountable, but if I accidentally make you throw up, please tell my coworkers it was food poisoning and not being on a date with me. I’d hate to have to kill them and ruin all the progress SHIELD has made with me. My handlers would be so disappointed.” The grin she flashed him said she was joking, and she noticed his quick look around, taking in their surroundings – a habit she had, and one she easily recognized as someone used to being on alert.

“No one’s following me. Pretty sure SHIELD has me tagged with a locator, they don’t need to follow me.” Finally pulling her left hand out of her pocket, she tugged her sleeve up for a minute, baring the shiny silver gauntlet, the green gem at the back of the wrist glowing to show it was working, although the tips of her fingers were also tinted a faint green. Then Carm tugged the sleeve back down over it. “They wouldn’t let me run off with their property.” Not to mention, they wouldn’t be likely to let her just walk away, from the deal they’d made. Still, she had a good sense of humor about her situation now.

“Yours looks good to me. Besides, you’re the one who knows where we’re going. I don’t spend much time in the city unless I’m working.” Most of her time had been spent in the woods, and once she was with SHIELD, she spent her on the carrier, or in the field. She didn’t spend much time socializing – while she had some friends at the agency, Carmilla knew better than to spend so much time around them in close contact. Even with the gauntlet, she still exuded toxins from that arm, and the gauntlet only controlled it so much.

“So, they tried to warn you away from me, huh? You should be flattered, it means they like you enough to not want you dead.” The green haired woman grinned teasingly, obviously in good humor about her situation.
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Wolverine
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The term “handler” made Logan’s nose wrinkle in disgust. He’d had “handlers” before and he ever found them again they’d be penned in the dead book right quick. But, hey he didn’t know Carm’s situation and he trusted Fury well enough to doubt he’d use the same methods used on the feral all those years ago. Besides the girl had humor; a nice self-depreciating, the world ain’t always nice and don’t owe me shit, I’ll get through this regardless, kind of humor that Logan knew was going to soften him right up in minutes.

He tapped his nose and countered her grin with his own.

“None of my people following us either, guess we ain’t as important as we thought huh? I figured one of the kids or ‘concerned staff’ as the school would at least attempt to find out what I was doing in a suit. Oh well life is full of little disappointments.”

The Canadian eyed the tech with the cool appreciation of one who’d seen more than his fair share of fantastic devices. Seemed Nicky liked his toys and handed out gadgets like candy. The old man wondered for a moment if SHIELD had hooked Rumbles up too, that girl was going to be trouble for the spy boys and the thought made him grin a little more.

“Nice piece, some kinda stop gap to keep the rest of your hand from going green? You related to Banner or what not? Oh if we’re playing show me yours…”

With the sound of skin parting and metal sliding through bionic housings, the flesh between Logan’s left set of knuckles was torn open and long,sharp, adamantium claws slid forth. Logan waved them around for a moment, listening to the sound of them tearing the air in front of them before letting them slide back away. After their retreat small slits were left in his hands that started healing immediately.

“My hardware doesn't come off and wasn’t exactly adeed by consent. Not as fancy or lovely as yours though. Now if I put two and two together here you have some kind of health thing? Death spores maybe? Walking poison factory? Make men weak in the knees after 5 minutes? Something like that? Won’t change my mind either way.”

The runt slipped over to his bike and kicked it to life once more. He didn’t go for crotch rockets and the old Harley was grumpy, powerful, and moody, a perfect fit. He patted the bit of seat behind him with a grin.

“Hey we take this at your pace darling, you be who you are and I promise I’ll keep being me. This is the time I get to tell you to hang on tight right? After all this girl here kicks like a mule and I’d hate to see your jacket get ripped.”
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Carmilla Black
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It was obvious from the look on his face that the term she’d used to describe the SHIELD agents who oversaw her in the agency was one he disliked. She didn’t blame him, the word ‘handlers’ made it seem a bit like she was an animal in a zoo. But for the most part, she liked them, and more often the word was used as a joke. Besides, the scientists that tended to work with her all had the same weird sense of humor she did. His grin and comment made her snort a quiet laugh, shaking her head.

“Maybe they’re waiting to see what state you come back in.” The green haired woman winked playfully, letting him examine the glove momentarily. He didn’t seemed too confused by it, so obviously he’d been around tech like it before. Carmilla had assumed he’d been told about his mutation, but from his question, it seemed like maybe she was wrong, and she hesitated for a moment, unsure. Before she could explain anything, he lifted his hand and popped out a set of silver claws, causing the agent to jump in surprise, eyes wide. Once they retreated, she grabbed his hand with her non-green one, inspecting the knuckles curiously as they closed.

“You heal? That explains the lack of “don’t kill him, Carm” comments I got.” She muttered, almost to herself, starting a bit at his question about her powers. Blushing light pink, she shook her head slowly, taking her left hand out of her pocket and wriggling the fingers, staring at them for a moment as if trying to turn the green back to pink, for all the good it did. When she looked back at him, there wasn’t as much humor on her face, because quite honestly, there wasn’t a lot that was humorous about her mutation.

“From what the scientists have explained to me, I have a supercharged lymphatic system, which basically absorbs every form of toxin, poison, or chemical I come into contact with, and concentrates it into my left arm. The green glow is poison slowly leaking out, and the glove helps to keep it mostly contained, otherwise I’m essentially a slow death for anyone who spends too much time around me.” She paused, before adding “And a quick painful one for anyone who touches.” Sliding the hand back into her pocket, she shrugged a single shoulder uncomfortably. “I’m also immune to all forms of chemical, biological, and toxic weaponry, and probably some other things they haven’t thought to try on me. So pick a bar that has good, cheap, strong shit, because I can’t get drunk and if I’m gonna waste my money, I better at least get some burn out of it.” As he got on the bike, she smiled, sliding a long leg over the bike and settling in, left hand securely hidden in the jacket.

“I haven’t fallen off a bike since I was six, so if you rip my jacket, the first round’s on me.” She flashed him a bright grin, not bothering to explain that her mutation meant she had heightened reflexes, but she wrapped her right arm around his waist as requested, pulling her own helmet on. He might not need one, but, reflexes aside, Carm preferred to have the sound of the wind blocked out from her ears. Especially in the city, where one was just as likely to ride through a cloud of smoke.
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Wolverine
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Short Hairy Healing Factor. And claws.
“So what you’re saying is we were made for each other then? Good deal. You poison, I heal, we get in a scrap least we know we’ll get out of it. Kinda funny that the two folk who can’t get drunk are stepping out of a drink, but hey, that’s no stranger then half the shit I seen go down. Now the trick to getting the buzz when your system says you can’t is simple, chug until your body forces you to stop. The head spins are pretty close to the real deal.”

Logan had to admit he liked this lady. She did seem almost tailor made for him. She grinned easily even if her lot in life was less than ideal. She liked bikes, the driving and the riding where too many girls just wanted to ride. She even liked drinking for the sheer hell of it like he did. Wonder of all wonders she even wore a helmet.

“This is gonna be one hell of a night.”

Logan put his own helmet on, only an idiot rode without one. If you somehow weren’t pulled over by the cops you had to deal with bugs to the face, smoke, debris, the deafening noise of New York City traffic, and rude ass people. Logan hated all those things, plus it kep his face pretty. His baby ran perfectly smooth of course, Summers would never let maintenance slide on any toy in the garage. That whole line was just that a line, though he was pretty certain Carmilla had known that too. With the bike purring along the way only a Harley can, Logan slipped through traffic like a ghost arriving at an upper west side spot called The Dive Bar.

The place was small, filled with a lively after work crowd and the damn good beer, whiskey, and food selection that made one notice that a bar could be a home to many souls that didn’t want to go to theirs quite yet. The Canadian pulled up and according to custom leaned his bike right up against the bar itself after sliding off. He popped his helmet off with a happy sigh and reached to take his date’s hand once again.

“So this isn't the fanciest place around, but they have a selection you won’t find at a snob joint, prices that are going to make you wonder how they break even, and not a single waitress who looks anywhere near as good as you. Oh, and you have to order the Montreal cheese curds. They ain’t Montreal at all, but they are amazing.”

Logan of course got the door for the lady, he may have been older than dirt, but he had been raised with manners.
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Carmilla Black
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She liked his humor, his willingness to take her powers with a grain of salt, apparently unconcerned with the fact that she was a walking poison factory. It didn’t bother him that it would be pretty much a waste of money to purchase alcohol when her body processed it so fast. Not to mention, with her high metabolism, she could eat a lot, especially now that she’d gotten used to having regular meals. And to be honest, she’d feel the effect of the alcohol for a little bit, just enough to enjoy it, before her system kicked in and absorbed it. So she grinned at him, flashing him a wink.

“Better still, neither of us can get food poisoning, or hangovers. Perfect date material, right here.” Those were things people worried about when it came to dates, right? Getting sick, or worse – sick the next morning. Not that she was planning ahead in any manner, because this was still only a first date, and she wasn’t one with much experience in such matters. But her grin didn’t fade, and she shrugged at his suggestion. “I’ll feel it a little bit, just enough to enjoy it, until my body absorbs and converts it. It’ll just get turned into fuel for my arm.” She gestured to the silver gauntlet and her greenish fingernails in explanation. His comment as they got on the bike got a laugh out of her, flipping dark green hair over her shoulder.

“Just remember, if the cops come, run – I don’t need anything else on my record.” She joked with a laugh, because while it might be true, there was no way she’d run from normal police. Not when she had her badge in her jacket, tucked away just in case. The ride, despite his warning, was smooth enough that Carm might’ve been able to fall asleep, had she been the type who needed to sleep much. It was much easier of a ride than her sport bike, and she slid off comfortably once he parked, tugging her helmet off and shaking her hair out. Letting him take her hand, she followed him inside, smiling at him.

“Looks great to me,” Carm commented cheerily, before giving him a puzzled look. “I…Have no idea what a cheese curd is, but considering some of the things I’ve eaten in the past, it sounds edible. And I have no idea how it would be Montreal or not, but whatever you say.” Blushing a bit at the admission of ignorance, she smiled as he got the door, letting him take the lead to find a table, before ordering a hard cider from the waitress.
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Wolverine
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Short Hairy Healing Factor. And claws.
“Take a chunk of cheese, roll it up in bread crumbs and toss it in the fryer. You do it right and there’s nothing quite like it. I’m sure we’ve both had too much ‘food is fuel’ moments, eh? Figure might as well grab good eats when we can. As for Montreal… well some of us are from way way up north. Though I suppose I’ve spent enough time down here to be American by now. Oh and this place can make a pretty good burger too.”

Logan held up three fingers when he walked in and a bartender, wrapped in too tight leather pants and staring at the runt like he wanted to literally eat him jumped into action. Before the pair hit the table a tumbler of whiskey, a shot of kamazi, and a mug of foaming ale were already waiting for them. Said bartender moseyed off with a very quiet “bitch better watch herself” said under his breath before slapping down a single menu for them.

Logan just rolled his eyes and gave Carm a “what are ya gonna do?” grin.

“Walt there is a bit of a twist, been looking for a way into my pants for about a year or so. Probably slipped shit into my drinks a few times too. But… he makes the best damn shots I’ve been able to find in New York. Necessary evil and all that.”

Logan was rather well known here and people were already shooting him looks and hand signals that he either ignored or countered. He had an always tab running here and people he favored would have drinks on their way quickly enough.

“So hard cider, huh? Never would have guessed. I’m a beer guy, but when it’s time to throw down, well burn is what you can get right? It’s a right funny thing being a healer. I’d bet i’d have a far smaller bar tab most days, but then again i’d probably be dead of a burst liver or something.”

Logan downed his shot, pulled back half his tumbler, then took a mighty drag from his mug. The was his place of ease, his environs, one of the many many places that were as close as he got to home. His smile was genuine and easy as he wiped foam from his chin and deep sideburns.

“So let’s get business out of the way first, eh? More time left over for pleasure the better I’d say. How’s Nicky? Is Rumbles… er Agent… Johnson doing alright? Anything we at the school need to be aware of that ain’t hit our info grid yet? Most importantly, when tonight inevitably leads to trouble cause we both get out of hand, and I gonna be visited by a boot squad a few days later?”
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Carmilla Black
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The description of the cheese curd was somehow both disgusting and delicious sounding – of course, Carm had eaten far more disgusting things than something deep fried and slathered in sauce. And it’s not like she had to worry about her cholesterol. Grinning at him, she shrugged a single shoulder. “Not the weirdest thing I’ll have ever eaten, trust me,” was her only reply to that, arching a slender green eyebrow at the mention of Canada. She hadn’t known he was from Canada, but then, most people she’d spoken to had pretty much just said he was everywhere. The moment they walked in, Carmilla scanned the area with a sharp eye, an automatic habit from living on the run, taking in details such as exits, table configurations and where people were seated.

The look the bartender gave Logan wasn’t missed, but other than a slightly arched brow and quizzical look, she didn’t question it, sitting down and letting a small, wicked smirk tilt her lips at the whisper she definitely heard. While Logan grinned his explanation, Carmilla slid a sideways look, catching the bartender’s eye as she slowly slid her leather jacket off her shoulders, hooking it on the back of her chair and making very certain that the shiny silver of her high tech gauntlet caught the light. It was almost full sized for protection, stretching from just below her elbow to the first knuckles of her fingers.

“Well, if I make it first, I promise to buy him a drink.” That she said just loud enough to carry to the already huffy bartender, and this time, her smirk was decidedly dangerous, and she lifted the cider to her lips without hesitation. The grin she sent to Logan was shit-eating, but good-humored. “I feel like I should warn him that if he tries to slip me something, there’s a very good chance I’ll accidentally cause his entire clientele to become sick enough to have to leave for the night.” Carm said it quietly, and was actually quite serious, although she was stretching the dramatic effect just a little. That being said, she was careful to use only her right hand to handle her drink, in case anyone else had to handle it.

“Honestly, I’ll drink just about anything – but I used to go to an orchard with my parents. Nothing better than a freshly picked apple. Used to love finding orchards when I was on my own.” That slipped out, but she didn’t grimace, instead taking a sip of the cider. His questions caused her to laugh quietly, and she shook her head.

“If you mean Fury, I have no idea. Never met the guy, really. Johnson, I’ve heard of – I’m not her mentor, and they don’t let me break new recruits for fear of me accidentally killing them. I think she’s doing well. As far as I know, there’s no imminent destruction heading your way, but I doubt they’d tell me. I’m pretty low on the totem pole – think of me like a cross between lab rat, cannon fodder, and a bad boomerang that keeps coming back.” Grinning at him, she laughed again at the last question, shrugging.

“You? Doubt it. Me?” She pursed her lips thoughtfully, eyebrows raising. “I can take any punishment they dish out, since I tend to find trouble. But it’s okay. You might be worth it.” Carm winked at him teasingly, taking another drink from the bottle.
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Wolverine
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Short Hairy Healing Factor. And claws.
There were moments, often few and far between when having super senses were worthwhile. Between said moments however life was a constant loud, smelly, foul tasting, constantly vibrating affair. When you know the past five meals anyone ate, the last time they showered, could hear their heartbeat, taste their sweat, well life was a good bit of unpleasant that you learned to muscle through and block out. However watching a new dame slip off her jacket in slow motion just to fuck with your gay bartender, well that was a scene that would live in his memory banks for years. The lady had spunk, she had fire, she had a hell of a sense of humor, she moved like a shadow and watched a room like a pro. In short, Logan believed he had hit the jackpot.

“I don’t think a warning will be required. Boy knows when he’s lost his turf war and I’ll notice anything tossed into our booze long before it hits the table. I got the whole spy package, super senses, healing factor, short enough to hide behind kids, adamantium skeleton, killer looks, and a hard head. Yet you got the spook job, odd bit there.”

Logan had left his sport coat on the bike and made short work of the rest of his monkey suit, leaving vest and tie on the back of his chair as several rounds of various drinks landed on the table in a flurry of motion. In a place like this, buying a drink never came back void. Plus there were always folk around who owed Logan one, frequently more than one.

“Well I’m at least two of those three. Chuck, er… Xavier plucked me up from government work many years back and I’ve been in and out of the X-Men ever since. Feels weird as hell to be teaching kids how to fly and teens how to fight and being part of a team, but hey, it beats retirement. There’s a whole lotta times one or more of them do something insanely stupid and i walk away for a bit. Try as I might I find myself walking back in sooner or later. Bit of a mindfuck really.”

Wolverine watched the bar as closely as his companion did of course, he might be an active spook but he had been one for a long long time. Mostly though he watched Carm. The runt liked how she moved, how she laughed, liked seeing a lady be at peace with herself. It was a wonderful reminder of what they strove for at the school, mutants who understood their conditions and differences and built normal lives around what others might foolishly think of as handicaps.

“Boot squads the next morning are the best part right? Why I remember in the big war part 2 getting woken up by howitzer fire after slouching back into my unit after a 3 day bender somewhere in Germany. As our camp was cratering around me, my commander still found 2 other billy boys to stomp my head in and we all retreated. Couldn’t even blame the guy, later on though I think I hooked up with his daughter.”

Logan sorted through the row of shots now filling the right side of the table and the 3 mugs of beer on the left. He finishing off the beer he had actually ordered and gave the agent a playful grin and a cocked eyebrow.

“Race you to the middle of the table? Oh and darling, long as you can keep up, I’m always worth it.”
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Carmilla Black
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Carm had never really considered it before, but considering the powers he listed, she was pretty glad she wasn’t a feral. Sure, her senses were heightened to the maximum of human level, but she wasn’t superhuman in them – and given the bar they were sitting in, and the number of people around them in the city, she was glad. Her sense of smell was sensitive enough already, she couldn’t imagine how much information he had to block out at any given time. Then again, she’d studied animal behavior while she lived in the wild – offensive odors to humans often weren’t so offensive to animals with stronger senses of smell, because they could, she assume, scent a multitude of different things instead of just ‘bad’. Letting out a quiet laugh at his declaration of oddity in their jobs, she shrugged.

“It was only somewhat by choice, if that helps. Given the option of prison – where I’d inevitably be confined to solitary due to the nature of my powers – or to be trained and learn to control my powers, so long as I used them for SHIELD…Well, not much of a question there.” She said it matter-of-factly, no bitterness or anger in her tone. To her, they’d done her a favor. They could’ve easily just written her off as a cold blooded killer and tossed her away for the rest of her life. Instead, they’d helped her – and yeah, it was self-serving, but then again, it gave her a job, and friends, and a life more than she’d had. Finishing off her cider, she smiled crookedly.

“And honestly, it wouldn’t bother me if he spikes it. I doubt I’ll notice. My average day tends to revolve around ingesting or injecting various substances that would kill an army. Hell, for that matter…” Trailing off, she slid her small purse over, flipping it open just enough so Logan could see a hard case inside. “My personal arsenal. Some very lethal compounds designed to give me a jump, and a few sedative ones. Just in case.” Like a girl scout drug addict. Listening to his comment about teams, she smiled, shaking her head in amusement.

“See, I like being on a team. Working with people – as long as I don’t kill them. I don’t work in close quarters well with my powers, so I’m often on two-man teams. One long range, me short range. And I do undercover for drug rings a lot, because I can identify drug compounds the second they enter my bloodstream, without effect.” Another shrug at this statement, as if it were a normal thing. She’d long gotten used to the weirdness of her own powers, and preferred not making a big deal over them. Although she arched a brow in surprise at his story.

“World War II? Damn, Logan. Impressive. Closest I can come to that is knowing exactly what the US did with the shit they got from Japan’s Unit 731.” Her tone was joking, and she winked playfully – although whether she was being truthful or not wasn’t clear. Of course, not many people would get the reference to the unit of Japan’s army that conducted biological and chemical warfare experiments during the war. And even less knew that the US had actually pardoned those doctors, in exchange for all the information they gained from their torturous experiments. At his challenge, Carm grinned, finishing off her cider with a flourish.

“You’re on. Should I lose on purpose, so you don’t get beat by a girl? I’ve been told guys hate that.” Flashing him a playful, teasing grin, she picked up the first shot and tossed it back, letting out a slow breath as the burn slid down her throat easily. Of all the things she’d had to eat or drink in the past, her gag reflex was non-existent, and she had no issue at all downing the shot in a single fluid motion, flipping the shot glass upside down and placing it back on the table with a wicked smile.
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Wolverine
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Logan nodded at the lady’s presumably abridged story and slipped her a warm genuine smile as he tipped back in his chair and chugged another mug down. As he wiped his mouth he gave her another long studying look, still quite liking what he found.

“Eh, that’s more or less what brought me to the X-Men many years ago. Chuck showed up one day at my handler’s office and made me an offer. Come with him and be a free agent, or keep working for the self same people under whose watch I was kidnapped, drugged, and turned into the weapon you see before you. Still not sure why he wanted a half wild half berserker on his team of kids, but, well, you don’t say no to a guy like Xavier. Now I teach school, history as i was around for most of it. Hell of a world. Also 731 was above my pay grade, dirty dirty things they did and all.”

Being the gentleman that he was Logan let Carm tear through drinks while he talked, then tipped back forward and took too it like a fish to water. He had been drinking for more years than most folk had been alive and caught up quickly. The vast amount of booze on the table, combined with the odd people drinking it caused a crowd to brew up quickly. Cheers exploded, bets started up, and laughs filled the place. All it all it was the start of a good night.

As the two hit two shots from the middle of the table each however, someone else’s plan interrupted their date. A heavy, brutal strike landed right on the back of Logan’s skull and forced the metal laced man first into and then through the table sending liquids and the vessels containing them everywhere. The attack took Logan so unaware and with so much force that he actually laid on the floor for a moment stunned.

Now standing behind him was a man up from Mutant Town, Tiny Jim, 7 and a half foot tall in he was an inch and thick as a barn door. His fist was torn open and starting to bleed, but he didn’t care. Behind him stood Big Jim, his cousin. Big Jim was an inch taller then Logan and as tough as his family member was strong. He was the thinker, as much as either of them thought and right now he was laughing and smiling like he won the lottery as bar patrons started to press away from the imminent violence.

“Hey, babe. We got some old business with this hairy runt and it’s about time we settled it. You want to finish up this date either of us will be happy to pick up where he left off once we’re done.”

Tiny Jim smiled and tapped the three deep ugly scars on his face, the last of which dug through his jaw and had rendered him mute. The pair has tussled with Logan before, he’d stopped them from selling drugs once, and assaulting people more than once. They always left Mutant Town to do their business and tonight was no exception.
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I'm the best there is at what I do. But what I do best isn't very nice.
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Carmilla Black
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Not Viper
Having only given him a very shortened version of how she ended up at SHIELD, she couldn’t blame him for his assumption. His explanation of how he ended up at a school was certainly interesting, but despite his comparison, it wasn’t really similar at all. His story sucked, and it was obvious why he had issues with government figures, if that was his experience. But unlike his government affiliation, SHIELD had been most helpful with her – especially considering her background. So she shook her head slightly, voice a bit lower than before.

“Not quite. I was wanted for murder, and quite unluckily found myself murdering a few Purifiers in the middle of Mutant Town, right in front of a few SHIELD agents, during a riot, trying to protect a family and their kid. All those years of living in the wild, poof.” She shrugged again, because really, it had been for the best. Had it not been for those agents, she’d still be in the woods, wrapping scraps around her arm and living off whatever she could forage for. Not a pleasant existence, really. Dropping down another shot at the rather dark thought, she grinned at the sudden raucousness of the crowd, laughing and letting them egg her on. The buzz in her head leveled out pretty quickly, evening to a nice warmth in her stomach, as he caught up.

At least until she reached for that last shot, spotted the man coming at Logan’s back, and managed to slide out of her seat quickly enough to avoid alcohol pouring over her. Carm even swiped the last two shot glasses off the table, rescuing them from Logan as he crushed the wood, her vivid green eyes immediately moving to the two men who’d so rudely interrupted them. From the words the man spouted at her, he had no idea what she was capable of – and far be it from her to ruin the surprise. Instead, she tipped slightly, as if drunk from all the shots, gasping and leaning over Logan worriedly.

“Oh my God, are you okay?!” As if she didn’t know he would heal just as fast as she could distract them, giving the patrons time to nervously filter away, clearing a space around the four of them. Straightening tipsily, she looked at the two men, batting her lashes ever-so-sweetly, her voice sweet and slowly losing the slur that she’d affected for show.

“See, I appreciate the offer boys, but I haven’t finished this date yet, and you have no idea how rarely I get let out of my cage.” With that, she tossed back the last two shots, one right after the other, and sent the glasses winging at the foreheads of the two men with deadly accuracy, sliding a finger over the button on her gauntlet that sent it shifting down into a slender silver bracelet, leaving her glowing hand vibrant and obvious, as she beckoned the two of them, eyeing the obvious claw marks on the one man’s jaw with a twisted, humorous grin.

“C’mon boys. If I’m gonna get in trouble, you better make it worth my while. Please tell me you have a gang out back and it’s not just the two of you, because it’s not fair to tease a girl like that.” The wicked smirk on her face didn’t falter for a second, and she spared only a fraction of a moment to glance at Logan out of the corner of her eye, because she knew better than to take her eyes off her opponents. Carm probably should’ve let Logan handle the two men, but they’d managed to irritate her. And when it came down to it, she was more comfortable in a fight than she was on a date.
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Wolverine
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Short Hairy Healing Factor. And claws.
Logan wanted to cheer the girl for taking down purifiers. Every single one of the hate filled bastards deserved to meet Magneto face to face in his book. Murder was by far the best result the scum should be given in the hairy man’s not so humble or quiet opinion. Hating someone for something they had no call in was vile, pathetic, and stank of hubris. He also wanted to ask her more about living off the land, being that wild thing others were scared of. He related so strongly to that he again had to wonder how fate hadn’t allowed Carm to cross his path earlier.

However he did none of those things. Instead he lay on the floor of a bar covered in booze with a pain filled head and a complete sense of disorientation.

The impact of Tiny Jim’s fist was so severe that Logan’s brain had actually bounced around giving him a nasty nasty concussion in multiple places. Tiny had a strange form of tactile telekinesis and could hit about as hard as he damn well pleased. If Logan’s skull had been anything other than the adamantium miracle metal his head would have become one with the table already. His healing factor was working on it, but the internal damage was extensive.

The patrons, most of which were either regulars who knew Logan tended to be in some scrap or another, or newbies who assumed he was dead, fled, opening up a wide dance floor for Carm and the cousins. Her words floated in Logan’s ears and mind without really making quite as much sense as he would have liked. For now he just noted she was about to throw down and he wasn’t sure why he wasn’t moving but was even prouder of his date then five minutes ago.

For his part Tiny Jim just stood there laughing. The man had about a 5th grade education and wasn’t all there in any sense of the term. He did what his older cousin told him and he really liked to hit things. Especially when said things then flattened or burst. If what he hit made a lot of noise or made Big Jim happy he was happy. If the thing hit back he was less happy. Big Jim took care of him and found him women. Life was good. His hand hurt, but that was OK, it did sometimes.

Big Jim however, while a poor decision maker was fairly intelligent. He had appetites and desires and plans and ego to spare. He also possessed skin that absorbed impact until it made Luke Cage’s look soft and tons of stamina. It was easy to be cocky and cruel when quite literally anything that didn’t kill you only made you stronger. He liked Carm’s look, liked that she was hanging with the runt that had hurt almost killed his family member, liked that she was ready for action.

“Girl, we are the gang. Jim and Jim at your service. You expecting to scare us off with slick moves and tough talk you best just save it and fall in line now. I’m not much for uppity gals, but I like your fire. Why don’t you leave the corpse where it is and come hang out with real men who don’t have a five o’clock shadow at 8 in the morning? Surely we can find you some more fun then that animal filth.”

Just to disprove the corpse theory, Logan chose that exact time to wiggle slightly on the floor. His hand reached out slowly, ever so slowly, and wrapped around the last full mug of beer. It took all his considerable force of will to do what was vitally important. He rolled over and poured it’s contents into his mouth and closed his eyes with a smile on his face. He mouthed the words, “Get ‘em Carm” and got back to work on figuring out which was was up.

Tiny, seeing that his target didn’t go pop as expected frowned and started moving back towards “Floorverine”.
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