capeandcowllogs | (no subject)

WHO: Wolverine

sixgoodreasons and Nightcrawler

in_likeflynn
WHERE: Some bar on the East Side.
WHEN: Monday evening, the 19th
SUMMARY: So the Nazis got trounced and Wolverine's up and about. This calls for celebrating, obviously.
WARNINGS: None really no?
FORMAT: Beginning with mah paragraphs, at least.

After a couple of days of teleporting around this City, fighting the villains and cleaning up, completing tasks of general super-heroics, it felt kind of nice to get out of uniform. Even better was getting out and into the City during a moment in which something wasn't crumbling. Kurt hadn't been here long, but it seemed to him that one bit of chaos would be inevitably followed by another.

Not too different from his own place and time, really.

He appeared in his usual cloud of purple, 'bamf' included, on the coordinates that Logan had given him. He waited, tried to look casual and discreet, just in case, and still realized that it was a ridiculous notion for him.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The Tool Shed was a too small to be a wine bar and too big to be a piss-hole in the wall, so it'd settled somewhere in the middle. The juke played Hank Williams and Patsy Cline almost exclusively, and a poster stuck to one of the windows proclaimed WE SERVE IMPORTED! in large handwritten letters.

Logan tromped up the damp sidewalk. The headache he'd woken up with was gone, but there was a lingering ache at the back of his neck and under his knuckles which told him his healing factor was running on fumes.

Might just win that bet tonight, Elf, he thought as he caught sight of the distinctive blue figure standing in the lee of a streetlight up ahead.

"Hey," he grunted as soon as he came within earshot. "You ain't waitin' on me are ya?"

Kurt turned at the sound of the familiar voice, eyebrows rising and smile coming smoothly. "Who else would I be waiting on, I wonder."

He moved forward to greet his old friend, all the while attempting to make sure he really was alright by looking a little more closely than usual. The lack of pupils, hopefully, would serve to keep his worrying habits concealed. "I haven't been here very long at all. No worries. Hello, Logan."

"Hey, Elf." Logan reached out to clap the man on the shoulder, a fond gesture borne of habit and too long apart. He didn't miss the narrow look Kurt gave him as he approached, but hadn't expected any different.

"C'mon," he said, leading the way towards the door, "I'm starvin'."

"By all means, then." The blue mutant grinned broadly, following Logan into the establishment. Upon entering, as was his habit in mostly-unfamiliar places, he took a moment to look around, half out of curiosity and half out of a wariness that he should have abandoned by now.

He assumed Logan's familiarity with the place, and followed him in and into seating a little distractedly.

The Tool Shed held no surprises on the inside: dim but not dark, it was roughly a quarter full, and would remain so this side of midnight. Logan headed towards a booth set into the corner facing the door, nodding a greeting at the woman serving drinks as he crossed the room.

He dropped into the vinyl booth seat with a grunt and immediately started searching his pockets for something to gnaw on while they waited for service. Goddamn anti-smoking laws.

Kurt slipped into the booth opposite Logan and, after one more moment of cheerfully taking in the environment, he plucked up the little, laminated drink menu. Apart from one corner that had been ruined by a spill, it looked promising.

He realized that he couldn't think of much to start, in the way of conversation. He pressed his lips together and thought, while staring down at the little menu, and finally said. "I have been trying to figure out... People brought here are from various times, ja? I am behind, mostly, I think." He looked inquiringly across the table at Logan, not able to fully pick from from the years they'd known one another.

Logan looked up at Kurt and shrugged, fishing a battered paper packet of toothpicks out of the pocket of his jacket. He snapped one off and set it between his teeth.

"Depends how much you know, Elf."

Well... How much did he know, in comparison? Best to start at the latest, and see if it matched up. "Well, we've moved to San Fransisco. Interesting place. Before coming here, we'd just had a little venture into Limbo, recovering Illyana in the process."

He paused his explanation to wait for a yay or nay on Logan's part.

Logan nodded, absently spinning the packet of toothpicks between his fingers. His gaze ticked up to the bar, back to Kurt.

"You ain't far behind me." He grunted thoughtfully. "Believe me when I say you ain't missin' out on much."

"So I've heard."

One of the ladies from behind the bar appeared to double as their waitress, and Kurt quit his wary analysis of the home-front news before it even began, at least briefly. He smiled disarmingly and ordered that doppelbock that Logan had promised was here. Ah, sweet nostalgia! Once this was accomplished, he waited for the Wolverine to order before continuing.

"Bad to worse, hm? I have heard of the island, the living dead, the brink of war, I think..." He got out one note of a chuckle before it faded. "When it rains, it pours, I suppose."

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watch this log become hideously bittersweet

you know it.