6840/A mutant, a demigod, and an experiment... walk into a bar. No this is not a joke.

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A mutant, a demigod, and an experiment... walk into a bar. No this is not a joke.
Date of Scene: 08 July 2021
Location: Josie's Bar
Synopsis: Dive bars are fun. Idiot gets locked out. Hijinx.
Cast of Characters: Achilles, Clarice Ferguson, Jessica Drew, Logan Howlett

Achilles has posed:
    It's been a long couple of weeks. Some ops go on that long. Sometimes one gets sealed inside a giant sphere of death and hasta fight their way out. Sometimes it's as dangerous as watching an apartment and sharing a car with someone who has bad body odor.

    Entering the dive bar, Angelo holds the door for Jessica. He is dressed casually in blue jeans and a New York Yankees buttondown jersey that looks lived in. Whatever op the two of them had been on has pretty much wrapped up in the last couple hours. So it was shower, wash off the blood... literally. Debrief, plan future stuff, and then Angelo suggested unwinding with drinks and maybe a game of billiards... sorry, pool... at a local watering hole. He'd just recently discovered Josie's Bar, and found it charming. What? He's been in a LOT of bars. Sometimes, the dives are the best places.

    Either way, he strides towards the bar after Jessica comes in, and gestures about, "See? What did I tell you?" he asks...

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Other than the neon lights - the brightest thing in the bar is the purple-skinned woman leaning up against the counter of the bar, a glass of whiskey in front of her, along with an uninspiring basket of fries. Clarice is nibbling at the fries idly between sips of her whiskey - a contemplative and slightly tired expression on her features. It's been a hell of a few days. And sometimes you just need a quiet drink, in a quiet bar.
    Of course, sometimes what you get instead is bigotted assholes muttering things about freaks taking over the city. She takes another bite of her chips as she silently ponders her options. Teleporting them into the nearest body of water is apparently 'assault' - unfortunately. Such a shame.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Three venom blasts of max magnitude take it out of a girl. But, it doesn't show. Jess is dressed down in chinos, a blue tank top under a loose orange jacket, and huaraches. Her dark hair curls slightly from the shower she took. Like Angelo, Jessica isn't in to blood in her hair for a look.

Head tilted to the side, she shakes it slowly, holding back a smile. "Yep, it's a dive. About your speed. You fit. Somehow."

Logan Howlett has posed:
The doors of the bar fling open.

Some eyes decide to turn and look his way, the man standing there in a pair of jeans with a white tank top, a dark leather jacket and a cowboy hat over his head. A thick cuban cigar sticks out of the corner of his mouth as smoke is exhaled from his lips as he begins his walk.

Footsteps are heavy as booted heels touch the beer-stained floors and he approaches straight for the bar, hands resting at his side, and in a voice best described as rough, he says one word. "Whiskey." His hand pulls up a stool and he settles in it.

He makes little acknolwedgement to Clarice, Jessica, or Angelo, but Logan seems to be much in the way of his own world. But, he also never forgets a scent...

Achilles has posed:
    Well, the last time this -particular- scent crawled up into Logan's nose. Yes, there is a mental image to die for... anyway, It was World War Two, and Logan was meeting with a French Resistance cell that had a US... *ahem* advisor with them. He went by Alistair at that time. Alistair Thompson. What? You don't change names every thirty years or so? Well, Angelo does. It comes with the territory it seems.

    There -is- the purple skinned girl, and she ios noticed. Angelo might have even brought her up with a comment to Jessica but... Logan. He sidles out of the other man's way as the man boisterously invades the bar. That's the only word for it. Some folks walk in. Others drop by. Logan invades. He's good at it too. If his height was based on personality, the man would be eight feet tall. His moniker is -well- earned to say the least.

    But after moving out of the man's way, Angelo leads Jessica to the bar and says, "I'll have a draft. Whatever's on tap is fine. And then lady will have... whatever she would like." he says, turning his -almost- smug grin towards Jessica as his dark blonde brows go up inquisitively.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice glances briefly towards the new comers - the brightly-colored woman, with long and pointed elf-like ears offering a simple nod of greeting to Jessica and Angelo. Her gaze then turns to Logan watching him for a moment, then turning back to her drink and fries.
    Maybe he just wants a quiet drink, and Creed's issues are //not// her own. Well, hopefully, anyways. No, her issue is still the group of people behind her, talking to themselves about what //they// think should be done to all the freaks moving into New York. She was trying to to ignore them, but she overs one of them saying something about 'Genosha' and then laughing - causing her teeth to grit, and her back to tense.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Other supers, mutants, in other words, weirdos like herself strum Jessica's spider-sense. It's like someone has walked on the web of her awareness. The cigar-chewing man is less of a tingle than someone dropping an anvil on those gossamer threads. She notices the purple woman and shoots Angelo a sideways look. The bar is a dive but not just any dive.

As for the man who walks in like he owns the place; she makes no bones about giving him a long once over. Commenting to Angelo as she settles onto the stool next to him, "Interesting place. Very. Make that two. I'm thirsty after work." A word floats to her over the general din of conversation - Genosha. She sighs to herself and nudges Angelo, saying for his ears only, "Some people don't like some of us in the bar."

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan picks up a great many scents.

But as soon as he gets his drink? Logan starts to down good pieces of the drink before he orders another, subsequently opening a tab and he was likely to be there most of the day if not all night. He removes his hat from his head and takes a deep breath as his facial features are revealed.

Then he takes a more attentive whiff of the air, and his eyes -dart- to Clarice. She had Victor's scent on her, and with the way he looks ath er, she may be able to see one of his unnaturally elongated canine teeth poking out.

He makes no move for her though, apparently seeking a more peaceful evening. He's even been working on -not- killing people! Though his eyes eventually shift to Angelo. "Hnnh. Been awhile, bub." Logan calls over to Angelo, apparently holding enough of his memories to remember just those bits when it comes to Angelo.

Then to Jessica. He doesn't seem to recognize her though, but hey, always a place to start.

Achilles has posed:
    Mentions of Genosha, and people not liking other people are clear as day to Angelo. "Well, you can't fix stupid." he says. "But there have been intolerant pricks since the dawn of time. It's a part of human nature." Sure, he's speaking loud enough to get the attention of the racist commentators. Maybe he -wants- their attention.

    And then there is Logan.... Okay. Sure, there are a lot of memories swirling about in the ancient Greek's grey matter. Enough that some get relegated to like.. the junk folder. And the first impression of Logan didn't jump out and grab him, but a stogie-chewing short guy who calls folks 'bub'. That never really vacated his RAM, so to speak.

    Beer gulped once, twice... he pauses and lowers his glass. "No way." he remarks softly.

    Then he chuckles as he looks to Jessica, "Looks like there's an... well, let me put it this way... -old- friend in house. Let me introduce you." he says as he saunters towards Logan. He lowers his voice for more... conversational tones and holds a hand out to the shorter Canuck. "It's been what... nearly eighty years?" he asks. "Jessica.. this is.." and he pauses, eyeing Logan, "Still going by Logan?" he asks. "These days I go by Angelo."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice catches that side-eye - and simply lifts her glass towards Logan, before finishing off her drink. She taps the bar to indicate a refill, and when the bartender comes over to comply, she adds simply, "Can you bring the gent down the other end another whiskey as well? On my tab, of course." He hasn't enhanced hearing, doesn't he? Well. What's it matter if he overhears.
    While that exchange is going on, however, one of the more unsteady fellows at the table in the back rises to his feet. "What? You truck with these //freaks// taking over our city? Sounds like you've got no self-respect to me."
    Maybe everyone at his table isn't a complete asshole, though, as one of his friends hisses at him to 'sit the fuck back down and leave it alone.'

Jessica Drew has posed:
Eyebrows raised in amusement at Angelo's loud comments, Jessica glances behind them at the yahoos. "No, you can't fix stupid. Are you looking for a fight? I mean, haven't you had enough for one day?" A purely rhetorical question because she knows the man is a pure warrior, and like many warriors, he likes a good brawl.

It seems the patrons are going to make his day. She smiles to herself at the purple woman sending the cigar-totting man a drink. Bar flirtations can be fun!

When Angelo gets out of his seat, Jessica tenses, though that doesn't stop her from taking a good long quaff of beer. Venom blasts are thirsty work, and she may be employing them soon enough if the tenor in the bar doesn't change quickly.

Swiveling in her seat to face the man she had frankly stared at, she nods and then stands to extend her hand to him. "Logan? Nice to meet you. Jessica. You can call me Jess. Eighty years?" That explains, perhaps, the sheer weight of the man on her spider-senses.

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan angles himself a little bit more to look upon Angelo, blue eyes seeming so youthful and vibrant, yet bear the history of over 100 years with each and every motion of his eyes. They lock onto Angelo, and he seems to gesture to himself lightly at the call of 'no way'. "Good to see you too, bub. Eighty years sounds about right, the War, if I remember right." He tells him.

Then looking to Jessica, he extends a hand to her. "Name's Logan." He doesn't remember his real name, so his alias will have to do. "Nice to meet you, Jessica. You the girlfriend?" the question may be a sudden one, but its good to know wher epeople stand in terms of relation. His eyes shift back to Angelo. "hnnnh, never understood why you keep changin' your damn name." Its not a hostile comment, merely an observation.

People will know when Logan is hostile.

Finally, to Clarice, his eyes narrow when she seems to order him a whiskey. He grumbles a little bit, and looks about to say something, before his eyes shift to the fellow who seems to call out. "I'd listen to your friend, bub." He grumbles.

Achilles has posed:
    At first, Angelo is grinning as he meets Logan and he shrugs, "Well, it's difficult to own things when the paper trail leads to a man like Connor McLeod." he says in his own barely there English accent. Weaker than it was in World War 2. But then he was speaking mostly French so... whatever.

    "Besides, I've been doin' it for a loooong time." he says. But.. the next thing he is going to say is muted as he hears the idjut comment his way. He just takes a breath... a sly grin creeping over his face. "Excuse me." he says to Jessica. He pauses though and says to Logan, "Just coworkers." And then he stands up and faces down the racist. "You know. It always seemed to me that those who proclaim superiority so loudly, are merely compensating for their own feelings of inferiority." A pause, and he adds, "Let me say this more simply so you might have a chance in hell of understanding. I think you think that you are not worth the effort it took for your mum and dad to make you... and you're taking it out on others to make yourself feel big and important. So, if you want a lesson in just how inferior you -are-, then I suggest you do something about it. But... not inside. This is a nice place. Let's not damage it, eh?" he asks with a gesture towards the door.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    As the drink is delivered, and she gets a bit of a stink-eye from down the bar, the purple-skinned woman offers a shrug of her shoulders in response. "Look, just trying to be friendly. I'm not looking for trouble today." In response to the growing unrest at the bar she in an exasperated voice, "Though it always seems to find me."
    "What the //fuck//!" the drunk exclaims, trying to burst free of his buddy's hold. "What's your fucking problem, buddy!"
    "Dude, you're drunk. Chill. Just chill," his friend protests, trying to keep a hold on his friend who's bravery may be fueled by alcohol - and the fact that the only obvious 'freak' in the bar is a slight-figured woman. The instigator continues to pull, and twist against his friend's grasp - eventually slipping free, stumbling, and looking about to crash into the trio in an uncontrolled manner.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jessica loosens her shoulders and reaches behind her for another good drink of beer. "Here we go," she mutters. As Angelo walks over to challenge the stupidity in the bar, her green eyes meet the young-old eyes of Logan. She makes an elaborate shrug, "Workmates, as he says." Her British accent much more pronounced than Angelo's. "We second each other more often than not. I protect him as he walks into barrages of bullets. It's a thing."

Beer in hand, Jess waits for the man to accept Angelo's invitation. Likely they will all be outside on the street. "So, you know about Angelo? He has been around a very long time," she says conversationally, her focus more on Angelo and the drunks than on Logan.

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan turns his attention to the drunk who seemed to be getting all riled up, and he frowns a long moment as he starts to slide off of his chair. Though his eyes shift to Angelo as he speaks. "Fine, you have to change your name because you don't like paperwork." Logan replies, before he looks to Angelo as he goes to handle the guy. "Well, that's one way to put it." Then to Jessica properly.

Of course they both say they are just coworkers. "Whatever you say." Logan replies to the pair of them on their, uh, relationship status, before his eyes shift to Clarice. "Hnnh. I'll take your drink. Thanks." He speaks slowly. He doesn't bring up Victor, but he will if he suspects anything coming his way.

To the drunks again, Logan seems to mutter to Jessica. "I know him from around the bend." He tells her, before he's approaching Angelo's flank, growling as he stands a little straighter. "Sit. Down." Logan speaks like he were the devil himself, his eyes showcasing a hidden rage he rarely unleashes these days.

His fists slooowly are starting to clench, but no claws are coming out yet.

Achilles has posed:
    Shaking his head, Angelo sighs and shrugs, "Look. After you. I promise, I won't be a dick and kick you in the back." he offers to the guy. He heads towards the exit and even opens the door for the guy. And as the asshat steps outside, he just shuts the door and twists the lock to seal the door shut.

    "Stupid." he mutters as he turns back to face the room, "Anyone else feel like being a narrow minded bigot?" he asks with what is now a -real- smug grin on his face.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    The guy bounces off Angelo first - given his uncontrolled trajectory - but does indeed proceed drunkenly out the door only to turn around in confusion. He tries the door. He rattles the handle. Outside he can be heard going, "Hey. HEY! What the fuck, man! Pansy! Fucking pansy!"
    Clarice watches Logan approaching the table with the drunks - concern starting to grow on her features. Anyone who can go toe-to-toe with Creed can cover this bar in blood if he wants. That was //not// her plan for the evening. Keeping her hand low beside her, a silvery, slender projectile forms in it - but she tries to keep it out of sight as she watches. "Look - I don't think anybody wants any trouble tonight. We just want a drink."
    One of the men at the table rises to his feet, muttering that he'll 'find a bar that doesn't cater to muties and freaks.' He tries to step around Logan and Angelo to head for the bar. The guy who'd been trying to hold back the drunkest member of their party also rises to his feet - smiling sheepishly as he follows the other two.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Oh, what fun, Jessica sighs to herself, sending a look down the bar at the purple woman who is the focus of all the misguided testosterone in the bar. One shoulder lifts, then she salutes the woman without irony with her beer. The weirdos must stick together.

Logan has it completely wrong about Angelo and herself. Unfortunately, it won't be the first time that happened. She and Angelo can be thick as thieves, their complicity misconstrued for more than it is. She raises her unladen hand, palm up in surrender. "Whatever. We just work together. You know"

The beer mug is back on the bar, empty now, in preparation to following Angelo and Logan out the door. The rage coming off of Logan is fascinating. It is as thick as smoke from a burning tire to her. She shoots a questioning look to the purple woman, squares her shoulders, and then steps to join them.

The door trick tickles her. Jessica feels laughter well up from a deep place inside her. She grins and starts to chuckle. It grows until she is laughing aloud, unable to speak, wiping her eyes.

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan doesn't appear surprised that Angelo manages to punk the poor drunkard. Instead, Logan just smirks a little bit, his rage seemingly satisfied, at least for the moment. As the drunk's compatriots seem to be taking their leave appear to rise up out of their chairs and begin to take their leave.

"Good riddance." Logan mutters to them as they leave, before his eyes seem to shift to Clarice, whether or not he notices the silvery slender projectile in her hand, he simply grunts at her before he seems to move past her and back towards the bar to finish his drink.

He's damn near not gonna permit some mutant haters from ruining his supposedly peaceful afternoon. As for Jessica, he seems extremely amused that she found Angelo's actions so damn funny.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    The situation defuses peacefully - and Clarice looks mildly surprised, but relieved. Her hand opens, dropping the little projectile - and it simply disappears before it hits the groun, as she turns back to her drink. She was glad things didn't have to get more complicated. She takes another sip of her whiskey, then looking towards Jessica she adds simply, "I'm Clarice. And thanks for..." she gestures towards the door. "I figured anything I said or did would just escalate things. And I didn't want to deal with cops trying to pin me with assault for starting a brawl."
    Besides, she didn't really have the itch for a fight at the moment.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Waving her hands helplessly in front of her face, Jessica eventually recovers enough to take a deep breath. "Oh, heavens. I didn't see that coming."

Regaining her seat, both forearms on the bar, she lifts two fingers and circles them, ordering a round for everyone. Then, shifting to face the mutant woman, she dips her head quickly, "Jessica. Oh? That was nothing. I'm glad Angelo pulled a fast one on the fellow. I've had enough for the day."

Lips screwed into a moue of pretend disapproval at Logan, she raises an eyebrow, then breaks into a grin. "Well, it was funny. He probably would have gotten into it with him a few years back. Let's hope that's done for the evening."

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan parks himself at the bar, before he seems to take a few swigs of his drink, even as Jessica tells him of how the old Angelo would have handled the situation. "I knew the old version of him. Those morons are lucky to be alive." Logan replies as he finishes downing the rest of his drink, before planting down a stack of cash and getting up out of his stool.

"I got business to handle, but it was nice meetin' ya, Jessica." Logan puts his cowboy hat back on his head and gives it a tip in Jessica's direction, before he's already heading out the door.

...then he pauses at Clarice. His eyes narrowed. "Thanks for the drink. Tell Victor I said hello." Oh yes, he can smell Victor all over her, even if it was a while ago.

Then the old Canucklehead was making his way out of the bar.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "A pleasure, Jessica," Clarice remarks lightly, still nursing her drink, and nibbling at her fries. She allows the other two their time to talk - looking back to Logan as he prepares to leave.
    His request gets a nod from her a wry smile growing on her lips. "Sure thing, I'll pass it on. I'm sure he'll be... 'thrilled.'" She shakes her head, then lets out a sigh before calling after Logan, "And anytime! I've got nothing against you, myself." Hell, she doesn't even know the cause of the grudge between the two men. She just knows it's something you stay //well clear of// if you have any good sense at all.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jessica waves to Logan, "Nice meeting you." Then, both Jess and Angelo knock back their drinks, absorbing them like water on a sandy beach. Serious business indeed after a hard day at work.

With a wordless glance, they decide to leave. Money is laid on the bar then they are both out of their stools. Jessica stops next to the young woman, "Take care of yourself, Clarice. You seem to run with interesting company. Stay safe." They are out the now unlocked door, letting in the blare of a passing car before it closes behind them.