capeandcowllogs | you were sitting home watching your tv

WHO: [Bad username or site: meowminx title= @ livejournal.com] and some psycho.
WHERE: Logan's old (and Selina's current) bar.
WHEN: At the beginning of the craziness on Wednesday.
WARNINGS: Daken?
SUMMARY: Chaos is the best cover for a little B&E.
FORMAT: WHATEVER LB WANTS

He'd woken up to the dulcet tones of a radio DJ warning him of a potentially dangerous situation in midtown. He'd listened for a few minutes, hand hovering over the hotel clock-radio, and thought: for me? You shouldn't have.

The girl at the front desk told him that he might be better off sticking to downtown today, and he thanked her, but assured her that he would be fine. He had things to do - he was running low on cash already, and while it didn't worry him, it still needed fixing - but the knowledge that something volatile and unpredictable was happening within walking distance was too much to resist.

Until something else caught his attention.

He paused on the sidewalk, ignoring the sound of sirens not far away, taking in the air.

Logan.

But that wasn't possible.

It was coming from a bar. The closer he got, the surer he was: Logan had been here.

He tried the door. Locked. He glanced up and down the sidewalk and over his shoulder; someone dashed across the street a block away, but they weren't paying attention to him. He yanked up the hood of his jacket anyway and leaned back to examine the second floor windows. No, that would leave blood.

Then it was a question of practicality: around the lock, or around the hinges?

Lock, he decided, moving closer. At least that way he could close it again. Sort of. He punched his claws through the door.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Selina had been a bit late waking up, but it hadn't taken long to clue into the mess going on. Costume made her a target, but also offered her some very helpful tools thanks to Tony. So it was worth the risk.

Hitting the City and breaking through some of the knots of (really weird) chaos, she found herself close enough to the bar to check up on things. Last thing she wanted to do was clean up after looters.

She really wasn't cut out for this owning a business thing.

When she arrived, she found the door was open. The lock looked like it had been stabbed through.

Maybe by someone with claws.

It could be Laura. The girl did know where the place was. Logan usually didn't leave signs when he broke in, not this obvious.

Still...

She entered cautiously.

He had taken a quick look around the bar and decided that no, it was not even a little bit interesting, and then he'd made his way up the stairs. The smell of Logan was stronger there; not recent, but lingering. And the door, again, was locked.

That in itself wasn't a problem, but the faint footsteps outside, the change in the light as a body blocked the holes in the door - those were problems.

Daken hid his claws again, letting the annoyance roll off him. Whoever it was, he could get rid of them.

He stayed in the shadows and watched as the door opened. If she was a looter (she sure as hell wasn't a customer), she had really gone out of her way to look suspicious.

"Nice outfit," he said, sliding his hands in his pockets casually.

The voice twinged her memories, but he was still in the shadows. Not Logan.

She took a step forward. "Thanks. Now what the hell are you doing in my bar?"

Unfazed, he was halfway to a little jab - do you always come to your own bar in costume, or something like that - but he hesitated.

"This is your bar," he said, taking one step down. "Then you know who was living upstairs."

"Of course, he used to..." She trailed off as mention of Logan from that voice made things click into place.

"Daken. When did you get back?"

For a few seconds he just stood there, wary and irritated. Nothing about her was familiar, but she knew him. And on top of that, her question didn't make any sense.

He hated being at a disadvantage.

"How do you know that name?" He came down the stairs slowly as he spoke, watching her.

She held her ground as he advanced. "You were here before. Couple of times, actually. People don't always happen."

A little quieter, "And yeah, I knew your father."

Daken could account for every minute of his time in the relatively recent past. He was sure, beyond any doubt, that he had never been here. Ever.

But she wasn't lying.

He set that conundrum aside and briefly considered killing her. If she knew more than she needed to, there was a distinct possibility that he would never find out.

On the other hand, she was a potential resource, and he was low on those.

"Knew as in he lived upstairs?" he asked, smirking at the end - an unspoken or what? - as he moved past her into the main room.

Her eyes tracked all of his movements, her stance only appearing relaxed.

"Knew him long before he got this place," she replied, completely deadpan in response to his smirk.

"Is that right?" He traced his fingertips on the bar top idly, and turned, and leaned on the edge, and tilted his head, as if trying to see her from a different angle.

"You don't strike me as his type."

She raised an eyebrow and gave a little smile that wasn't very nice at all. Not that his opinion bothered her that much. Maybe things would have been a bit easier if he was actually right.

"Really. And why's that?"

"Well," he sat down at the bar, "the woman that he's with right now, for instance, is very...how do I put this. Ordinary?" He half shrugged, as if that were the most polite thing he could think of. "You make a much better first impression."

"Funny, that's not how he described her." She ignored his attempt at a compliment, if you could really call it that.

"He's not exactly impartial," Daken pointed out, smiling. "Of course, I haven't been...formally introduced to her. Logan and I aren't on very good terms." He paused. "But you probably knew that."

"It was a little hard to miss." Her tone was cool. And really, she had no idea if Daken was talking about the same woman she was, the way time worked in this place. But it was easier to pretend he was.

Still keeping her cards close. She wasn't as stupid as a good percentage of the population by that virtue alone - but that was fine. It made things interesting.

"Not that it matters now," he said, switching tracks. "What can I call you, by the way?"

"Selina." Of course, there was plenty of evidence on the comm about her. Two and a half years worth. But he'd be able to find out her name with a little effort anyway.

"Selina," he echoed. "Very elegant."

Clearly she wasn't going to suddenly offer him a drink and divulge everything she knew about him, and dragging this out was doing him no favors. He stood and headed for the door, pausing as he reached her.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Selina. I'll have someone fix your door." Never mind that he didn't have the finances to have anyone do anything. Yet.

She didn't move, not even as he paused right by her. "The pleasure was all yours." A thin smile. "And I can take care of the door."

"If that's what you want," he said easily, and he let himself out.

As the bar and Logan's memory fell away behind him, he decided he'd maybe do something else for her. Something small, but it wouldn't matter; she wouldn't be expecting it.

Or maybe he'd just drop in for a beer. Either way, he wasn't planning on staying unwelcome.

you were sitting home watching your tv

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