milliways_bar | (no subject)

She shrugs again, propping her elbow on the bartop and resting her chin in her hand.

"Whatever I feel like. Last job I had was waitressing."

"Had? Didn't like livin' for tips or got tired of takin' orders?"

"Both?"

She grins slowly.

"Money wasn't bad, but it wasn't great either."

"Honest work." Logan wonders when the Raven from his world last held a job that could be called honest.

"So what's it you're doin' now?"

Raven shrugs both shoulders.

"Not much. Kind of working with my brother. He's trying to recruit kids who are special."

Special being the key word - and one she distinctly doesn't elaborate on.

"Special." There's the barest twitch in Logan's hand around his glass.

"What're you recruitin' 'em for?"

"Just a place to belong, I guess," Raven answers, resting her chin in her palm.

"Especially since this world has such a problem with those of us who are different."

Her 'brother', that's a new one, and it confuses Logan some. If she's talking about Eric that's wrong on several levels, if she's not then he can't figure who she might be working with.

"You say 'recruit' makes it sound like more than a social club you're puttin' together."

"I guess it's kind of like a club. Super top-secret," Raven replies, flashing another quick grin.

"Who knows how much I've already given away?"

Logan gives a shrug.

"'Long as you ain't running into people from your world shouldn't be a big deal."

"Even if that happens, I have a pretty good hiding strategy."

She taps her fingertips against her cheek, eyes subtly shifting yellow and then back again in a single blink.

He feigns surprise, which for him means the slight lift of an eyebrow and tilt of the head.

It's then he decides she is as young as she appears; inexperienced and, it seems, not a threat. Wherever this Raven is from, she's not the jaded sociopath. Yet.

"That's a handy trick."

"You got any hidden ones?"

Call it a hunch. She's not as good as Charles is about singling out other mutants, but something tells her she wouldn't be surprised if he was.

He gives a smirk to that.

"Y'think if I could do somethin' like that I'd pick this mug?"

He gestures to his features before emptying his most recent shot.

Logan knows better than to give things away. The less people know about what he can do, the better advantage he has over them. Still, she's picked up on him not being all he appears, and so he has to give something.

"Egg heads and guys who name this stuff call it a healing factor. I think of it as a license t'indulge my bad habits." And to illustrate he downs another shot.

She tilts her head again, studying.

"It's not a terrible one, when you think about other mugs."

Beat.

"Bet the healing makes it hard to get drunk, though."

"I reckon there are worse," he allows, and dammit if she didn't just earn a smile from him.

He raises the bottle, measuring what's left inside.

"Yeah, it takes some doin'."

"Because it stands to reason that if your cells are healing - let's say now, even as we speak - that alcohol isn't going to last as long in your system the way it would for someone else."

Who says she has to be like Charles with all his big fancy degrees?

"That's pretty much it." He nods.

"How 'bout you? Shiftin' give you any hassles?"

"Not lately, but that's what practice is for."

She has to stay on her toes, even when it looks like she's barely paying attention. One loss of concentration and the whole illusion shatters.

She's always got to hold onto a shred of it, deep down. Can never truly let go.

Logan's eyes scan the bar and its various patrons before returning to her.

"Y'know, if there was any place you could take a break in, this'd be it."

When the clientele includes werewolves, robots and whatever the hell that purple thing in the corner is, no one would probably bat an eye at blue and scaly.

She looks at him, a deeper frown line setting into the space between her eyebrows, and wonders if there's something she's missing.

"You almost make it sound easy."

"Ain't nothin' easy, darlin', but here 'special' ain't gonna raise the fuss it would back out there." He nods over his shoulder towards the front door.

There's a pause. A long, long pause.

The sound that precedes her change is little more than a brief rippling as skin gives way to scales, blonde hair to red, and yellow eyes blink back at him as she sits, remarkably a little straighter.

"Guess not."

He doesn't react to the shift, only nodding once it's done and it's then he offers his hand.

"Logan."

Her smile, remarkably, is one of the few traits that bear resemblance to her non-blue self as she brightens at the introduction.

"Raven," she replies, reaching out to clasp his hand in her own. Strong. And there's not even a flinch from him when her skin touches his.