(no subject)

[adamantiumloner]

The front door opens and Logan saunters in. He heads straight for the bar, pushing a dufflebag that's slung on his shoulder off onto the floor as he takes a seat.

He's got on jeans and a faded brown leather jacket with snow about the collar. Bar serves him without the need for him to ask and he lifts the coffee mug that appears with a nod.

"Thanks, darlin'."

It's been awhile, he's glad to see the place.

Comments

[i_am_your_host]

A small, slight man, wearing a white dress shirt and black trousers with suspenders, comes downstairs carrying a folded-up leather coat. He lays the bundle on the bar.

The coat is old, the leather cracking in some places. It also smells like dried blood.

"Please," he murmurs to Bar in a low, German-accented voice, "if you can get this cleaned, I would very much appreciate it. I will find a way to mend the bullet holes myself. Thank you."

The coat disappears. Replaced by a glass of gin.

Emcee sighs and takes a sip. He warily glances around, noticing the burly man, but hastily looks away.

[adamantiumloner]

The scent on the air causes Logan's nostrils to flair and he tilts his head slightly; looking the man over from the corner of his eye for a brief moment.

Setting his mug down he knocks lightly on the counter top then lifts it again when it's refilled.

"Hate it when a good coat gets ruined that way," he comments, facing straight ahead now.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee abruptly turns his head, blinking at him with black-rimmed eyes.

It's a strange thing to say. But apparently it's a thing he knows about?

"I have had it for years and I need it to go back home," he finds himself explaining. "People would ask questions if I was suddenly wearing a new one."

[adamantiumloner]

"Would they ask questions about the bullets?" he asks, putting his mug down and folding his hands, rough and calloused, around it.

[i_am_your_host]

It's a complicated situation.

He frowns down into his glass of gin, swirling it around a little.

"Perhaps," he says uncertainly. "I don't know if my friends saw me get shot. It was dark."

[adamantiumloner]

"If it's an issue you'll wanna cut around the holes to reshape 'em. Makes mendin' a little easier, too," he suggests.

[i_am_your_host]

"Oh." Emcee considers this unexpected piece of advice. "Thank you. I'll try that. If I can't manage a decent job I might even ask around if there's some sort of futuristic...fabric...replicating...device."

A pause.

"I just really like my coat," he huffs.

"You seem familiar with having to mend holes in things."

[genarti]

[Hello friend! Good to see you back around! Still open for threads? And if so, uh, would you prefer a movieverse Thor, Kazul the king of dragons, or a homicidally mad scientist-y velociraptor? Or I suppose an extremely civilian-y teenage girl from 1833 France.]

[adamantiumloner]

[Hi, hi! Yes, I am happy to be around again. ^^ Totally still open for threads! I'll be turning in in awhile, but slows are always good for me.

And OH! I would love any of them. Thor would be great, I don't believe he and Logan have met yet, but the velociraptor would also be hi-larious, although there is the chance of that going badly. >.> I will take anyone you want to send! :D]

[genarti]

[:D! I'll be in and out tomorrow and this weekend, but slows are totally good for me too.

And, oh, there is basically a CERTAINTY of threads going badly with Doctor Dinosaur; he's been arrested in at least half his threads so far. So they should totally meet sometime! But I'll send Thor for now. They can hang! Or whatever unfolds.]

[adamantiumloner]

[ooc: :DDD! ]

[mjolnir_retriever]

Here's a face he maybe knows!

And a breadth of shoulders and biceps. And an amount of blond, armored shininess. And a giant massive hammer.

The silver Security star pinned to the shoulder of his crimson cloak may be new, though. And so is the way Thor glances at him without any sign of recognition, though it's a generally genial regard.

[adamantiumloner]

Logan looks over, then looks again. It's not easy to get him to double-take, but the Asgardian manages it neatly.

It's on the second look that Logan really takes the man in, sizing him up, noting the lack of recognition, and spotting the security badge.

The hammer is the last thing his gaze lingers on before he turns back to the counter.

"Bar, I'm gonna need a beer."

[mjolnir_retriever]

Thor is pretty used to being recognizable. He's big and shiny and has been a very public figure all his life, after all. But he does try to notice who's noticing and recognizing him.

That's doubly true at Milliways, where a lot of people don't know him by name or sight. And the short, solid guy who looks like a fighter (of Midgard, or some multiversal analogue? probably?) definitely seemed to recognize him, and definitely doesn't look familiar.

Hmmm.

So Thor, who was heading for the bar anyway, changes his aim slightly to end up nearby.

"Miss Bar," he commands. "Mead, of your courtesy."

Voila: a golden tankard, with mead of an extremely potent (and very faintly glowing) sort inside. Thor gives the hairy warrior a nod of amiable fellowship.

[adamantiumloner]

A pint in a stein appears for him and Logan lifts it with satisfaction.

"Why don't you take a load off," he suggests to the big man, gesturing at an empty stool with the mug.

[mjolnir_retriever]

The idiom takes him a moment, but the gesture and context make it pretty clear.

(Logan no doubt knows the look of Thor being confused by an idiom, getting the gist, and deciding to go with it very, very well.)

So: "Gladly," he says, and sits.

A lift of the tankard and a hefty slug of its contents -- excellent as always, Bar! -- and he adds, "I am Thor."

[adamantiumloner]

Logan lets the man figure it out and gives a nod when he's sitting.

"Logan."

He looks at Thor's drink and makes a 'tch' sound, shaking his head.

"Asgardian mead. S'been awhile."

[mjolnir_retriever]

Thor grins.

"Excellent, is it not? Miss Bar keeps a worthy cellar."

It's sweet and fizzy and kicks like a mule, and then kicks your liver like three mules with super-strength. Thor carefully checks whether someone has a human metabolism before he offers it out, now that bar has explained alcohol poisoning to him.

"Did you have it here, or elsewhere?"

The further question in that -- what's his connection to Asgard or any of its people? -- isn't subtle, and Thor isn't trying to be. But it's not suspicious in the least; just curious, and relationship-establishing.

[no_more_hiding]

[OOC: If you're not still open to new threads, I'll happily delete.]

A figure wearing a trench coat with the collar turned up and a fedora approaches nearby. As it takes a seat, Logan may recognize the scent as being sort of like one he knows.

His suspicions are likely confirmed when the figure removes the hat to reveal blue fur.

"Coffee, please," Hank says, taking a seat. It might be worth noting he has traces of what might be scent markers from the Winchester mansion, but they are weeks old.

[adamantiumloner]

[ooc: Totally still open! :D ]

The mingling scents do catch Logan's attention, but it's the getup that receives comment.

"Cagney or Dillinger?" he drawls. The Hank he knows has been long over the cheesy disguises.

[no_more_hiding]

"I beg your pardon?" Hank says turning to Logan without a glimmer of recognition. He does sniff out of instinct, filing his scent away. Then he catches what he just did and almost seems embarrassed by it.

[adamantiumloner]

Logan shakes his head, dismissing the question and his own previous comment.

The sniff reaction gets a head tilt from him and Logan takes a moment to take stock of himself. There's no denying he has the road on him, but he's far from gamey.

"Smell somethin', fuzzball?"

[no_more_hiding]

"No, I..." Hank starts before the nickname register. His lips curl almost into a snarl before he catches himself. Still, he says, "I would ask you not to call me that," with more teeth showing that he usually allows.

[OOC: I swear I don't know what's up Hank's back here.]

[adamantiumloner]

He meets Hank's showing with a glare. "Would you now?"

The kid really isn't someone to get his hackles up over, though, so Logan doesn't go full threat with his tone. He's more annoyed than pissed off at this point.

But that can of course change.


[ooc: Logan can be talented about ticking people off. XD]

[no_more_hiding]

Hank returns the stare but after a moment or two, he takes a steadying breath. Sometimes he forgets how much strong his instincts are since the change. He purposefully lowers his shoulders and relaxes his stance.

"Boggart. I was aiming more for Boggart, then anyone else."