(no subject)

[sixgoodreasons.livejournal.com]

WHO: Logan and open.
WHERE: KWICK KLEENZ! laundromat, downtown.
WHEN: Four or five hours during Tuesday afternoon.
WARNINGS: Excessive back hair, possibly some health code violations.
SUMMARY: Hey, those tights won't clean themselves.
FORMAT: Whatever. Feel free to wander into other people's threads. It's a superhero underwear party!



[ If you've ever wondered how the big bad Wolverine gets those bloodstains out of that yellow spandex suit, wonder no more!

He's sitting on the plastic bench which runs down the middle of the laundromat, wearing nothing but a off-white vest, a pair of boxer shorts covered in bright red maple leaves and a strangely peaceful expression. He's halfway through a battered-looking Ross Macdonald novel. Come bother him. ]

Comments

[listen-bud.livejournal.com]

[ Pete is whistling happily to himself as he strolls down the street carrying a laundry basket full of clothes (Spidey costume cleverly hidden, yes). He pushes into the laundromat, back against the door, and spins on his heels through the threshold and immediately spots.... Logan!

And without a skip of the beat, still whistling casually, spins again on his heels to leave as quickly and unnoticed as possible! ]

[sixgoodreasons.livejournal.com]

[ Nice try, Pete. Logan doesn't so much as glance up from his book. ]

Hey, Parker.

[listen-bud.livejournal.com]

[ Pete stops just short of the threshold for a minute and cringes, then turns around and pretends to act shocked. He shields a hand just over his brow and squints. ]

Wha... Logan? I-Is... is that you? [ A tiny laugh. ] That's... that's so weird, I didn't even... see you there. I mean... I usually picture you... with more clothes. Not that I picture you and, I mean, but hey, look, it's you doing laundry.

[ He stands there silently for a minute and then shuffles over to the table and begins to sort his laundry to put into the machine. This continues in awkward silence for a few minutes. ]

Maple leaves, huh... good ol' Canadia, ehhhh? [ He mumbles and exhales sharply. ]

[sixgoodreasons.livejournal.com]

[ Lucky for Pete and his not being disemboweled, Logan's more than used to this. He remains silent throughout, occasionally turning a page in his book or glancing up to see if his dedicates are done. ]

[wondah.livejournal.com]

[ Donna enters the laundromat, two baskets balanced atop of one another and scooped in an unsteady hold between her arms, while she tried to balance her phone between her shoulder and cheek. ]

No, no! They're pleated. That's what I'm saying. Yes, cotton and polyester -- no, honey, I know what my own sweaters are made of, there's no nylon. Yes, every stain is still in there. Okay, okay. Just never mind. Are you actually crying? I'll talk to your manager later and then you'll really have a reason to cry, sweetie. Bye!

[ Donna tries to hang up the phone, but her hands are too full. So she just kind of ...slides it from her chin and lets it drop into her purse.

When she looks up and sees Wolverine, her top basket falls. Not that she notices. What? The sight's kind of distracting, momentarily!]

[sixgoodreasons.livejournal.com]

[ The sound of a woman walking in mid-conversation isn't especially unusual in a joint like this, nor is the clatter of a basket on the tiled floor. And it's not like Logan's new to having people stare at him. Spend half the day running around in bright yellow tights and you grow a pretty thick skin. Still, he's not about to let it pass without comment. He's just that kind of a jerk. ]

See somethin' you like?

[wondah.livejournal.com]

Yes. [ She glances down at the basket, then up at Logan.] I mean no! No, no, sorry, I didn't mean to stare! I just like your ... vest.

[sixgoodreasons.livejournal.com]

[ He raises his eyebrows a little at that, grunts, and turns back to his book. ]

Whatever.

Let's see if we can't get some badass hob-knobbing afoot.

[yippiekiyay.livejournal.com]

[John McClane trudges into the laundromat with a pair of dark sunglasses on, looking haggard with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and smelling of a hangover. Bag of clothes is slung over his shoulder, and he's only wearing pants and a tank-top t-shirt, and he's punched people for callin' it a wifebeater.

He drops it on a table before catching sight of the hairball in his underpants.]

Rough day?

eeeeexcellent.

[sixgoodreasons.livejournal.com]

[ Logan recognizes the voice but not the scent. He's starting to get used to that.

Seemingly ignoring McClane, he licks his thumb and turns to the next page in his book. Considers days when he's woken up tied to operating tables, or on a spaceship hurtling into the sun. He grunts. ]

Had worse.

[yippiekiyay.livejournal.com]

Yeah, me too.

[He doesn't bother to separate anything as he starts prepping his load in the wash.]

Wife throw you out?

[sixgoodreasons.livejournal.com]

[ That earns McClane a snort of amusement. Logan folds his book closed around his thumb and looks over at the other man, elbows balanced on his thighs. ]

McClane, right?

[jewpryde.livejournal.com]

[Kitty has learned many of her habits from Wolverine. Falling asleep whenever she gets the chance, beating up baddies with rad marital arts skills, and waiting until she had almost no underwear left to go wash her clothes. And so, wearing a t-shirt and biking shorts, Kitty throws her things into two of the washing machines and sits down next to Logan.]

Nice shorts.

[sixgoodreasons.livejournal.com]

[ If there's one thing that more than makes up for all the stupid bullshit the City has landed on Logan's head, it's being able to spend time with Kitty. Just seeing her walking around makes his heart hurt with gladness.

Not that he'd ever let on. He has a rep to maintain, after all. ]

Right back atcha, kid.

[jewpryde.livejournal.com]

This is the result of hanging out with you for too long, you know.

[But of course, Kitty doesn't sound upset about it. In fact, she's amused. Because who would ever believe that these two had anything in common?]

[sixgoodreasons.livejournal.com]

[ Logan grunts and continues reading. ]

Least you ain't got the facial hair yet.

[klutziness]

[Walks in with a small basket of sparse clothing. Glances at him and just... stares at those boxers. They are... so odd. She sets her basket down on a washer and glances at him.]

Leaves, huh?

[sixgoodreasons.livejournal.com]

[ Logan's starting to think he should've just cut his losses and washed his stuff at the Institute. He grunts and doesn't take his eyes off his novel. ]

Yeah, leaves.

[klutziness]

[Opens the washer and starts picking through her clothing, tossing them in one-by-one. Then gives up, picks up the whole pile, and tosses it all in. Starts setting the washer, and glances at him. Small talk is a go.]

So, how long did it take you to figure out one of these washer things?

[spiritgun]

[Someone, probably Yukina, informed Yusuke that he should probably wash the clothes he owns. You know, before they either fall about or someone drags him out into the street to hose him down. So Yusuke's dressed in some stuff he borrowed (read, stole) from Kuwabara, and carrying his clothes into the laundromat. And stops to gawk at Logan, because, what are those boxers even.]

[sixgoodreasons.livejournal.com]

[ And again with the staring. What is this place, a zoo? Logan's two cycles away from a cold beer and a hot sandwich and he's not in the mood any more. He looks up and meets the eyes of the kid watching him. ]

What?

[spiritgun]

[Yusuke bristles immediately.]

Nothing. Lose your pants?

[catofprey.livejournal.com]

[Helena's washer was busted, so she had to make the trip to the laundromat to do her clothes. It made her really miss Alfred.

When she got there, she was greeted with a very strange sight.]

Now I have to know, did you walk here like that or is today's outfit in the wash?

[sixgoodreasons.livejournal.com]

[ She smells like Selina. Not enough for him to mistake her for her mother, but enough to tell him exactly who this is. It takes some effort of control not to react to her question beyond the usual guttural noise of acknowledgment and indifference. ]

[catofprey.livejournal.com]

Okay, so, the quiet type then. Gotcha.

[Helena gave a shrug and moved down to the other end of the Laundromat.]