[ And man, Logan's entire life is... minimalist kitsch, he feels. Something Eli probably sees when she opens the door to his temporary living space and sees its a) near-emptiness; b) how what is there is kind of just. Piled up in a corner.
She does have a point, though. The blood and holes in his shirt look even worse in reality than they did in the picture he sent.
When he sees her, Logan holds his hand out. ] Hand it over, kiddo.
[ Her immediate impulse is to pull him inside. He is a blood soaked spectacle. But she can't intrude. The view into the room is recognizable: an economy of things in a state of disorder. A sense of impermanence and flight. She too lives in relative emptiness.
Eli removes the folded shirt from a plastic bag, and handing it over, is confident in her selection: a loud Hawaiian shirt weaving birds and red flowers upon a black canvas. ]
Oh -- shit, yeah. Come in. Make yourself at home, or... y'know.
[ Sometimes he forgets.
He does take the shirt, however, and thinks it'd be perfect for sneaking around if not for the strong reds. Smells a lot better than blood and sweat, though, to be fair, so he grunts a thanks and pulls the first shirt off so he can button the new one up.
Logan doesn't bother with a 'how do I look', but he does frown at how tight it is in his upper body and how his height means the shirt billows a bit once its hem is below his chest. ]
What else you got? [ He ends up popping the top button, but feels like a douchebag for doing it. ]
[ Or so Logan says as he tries to scrub the furious stains of red from his white button-down. He gets it, he does -- it's his fault for wearing a fucking tuxedo to work -- but the assassination was supposed to happen nice and clean, and not at all with Victor sinking his stupid fucking claws into the target and ripping him in literal half.
Logan grumbles, holding the shirt up to the light. It's unsalvageable. The pink is going to stay in the fabric forever. ]
[ He's leaning against a wall, picking flesh out of his claws. That's going to stain. Never mind the splash of red down his own front. He sighs and pulls a damned hair out from under one of his nails. Where the hell had that come from? Oh well. ]
You can have a damned new suit. Give the kid a chance to take you shopping.
[ Married for over a hundred years, Victor Creed is still an asshole. ]
[ Logan sends Victor a look. He's about to say something along the lines of I wore this thing to Jubilee's graduation, you prick, but shakes his head instead as he drops the shirt into the sink and leans his hands against the counter. ]
You'd like that, wouldn't you. [ Fingers flexing over it, he snorts. ] Last time we went shopping those jeans were too fucking tight.
[ Look, Vic knows. He does. But he believes that the pictures are worth a thousand words and he'd never admit it, but one of Logan with Jubilee is his lock screen. NEVER ADMITTING IT.
But Vic noticed how tight those jeans were too. So, he's just going to smirk. ]
I bought some panties the other day. [ ...is probably a dumb thing to say as he's absently running his fingers through Victor's hair, his husband lying on his lap. Logan's only half paying attention to the book in his other hand, but continues to hold it to keep up the illusion that this whole lingerie thing doesn't mean nearly as much to him as it actually does. ]
While you were out on a solo.
[ A beat, and then he tries to speak as casually as he can: ] They're black.
[ Vic isn't into pretending. He puts his book down and looks up at his husband. ]
Black huh?
[ He can get behind his husband in black panties. Won't be the first time, though it has been a long time.... He listens for a moment, but their kid is locked in her room, pissed about something or another. He's not sure what, but when he'd gone to see if she was okay, she'd growled at him to go away, so he'll wait until later to see if she's alright.
But back to the important stuff. Like Logan in black panties. ]
You gonna put 'em on for me?
[ He really wants to see that. The thought is enough to send blood rushing to certain places. ]
canon crossdressing logan is literally everything to me
Maybe. [ He can feel Victor's gaze on him and it has his pulse racing-- always has, really, and it's amazing how little things change even over the course of a century. Logan smells the arousal in him clearly and perfectly, and he swallows against the drool that builds up in his mouth. ] If you give me a good reason to.
[ He's bullshitting and they both know it. Logan's affinity for wearing women's underwear is big enough that he'd do it even without Victor asking him to.
But it's been a while. Why not have a little fun with it? ]
[ Vic's lips pull back in a grin. He knows his husband is playing with him. He likes it, actually. It's certainly better than ripping apart the condo. And the kid yells less too.
He turns his head and scrapes his teeth over tight abs. ]
Oh what a beautiful morning. Oh what a beautiful day. I've got a beautiful feelin. Everything is going my way! [Kitty was singing as she was prepping breakfast in the kitchen. She has a certain glow about her, and by her scent Logan would immediately know why she was in a wonderful mood the morning after her date with Bobby Drake.]
[It's not every day Rhus is taken aback by something. Either he notices it coming thanks to his Miqo'te senses... or he's too deep in his pipe to give a flying godsdamn.
Except the situation is neither. And the Warrior of Light cant even tell what exactly he's taken aback by. Is it the sudden slam of the door as it's shoved open so suddenly and violently? Is it because he's so high? Is it because he's almost naked, only in a pair of shorts and lounging on the bed as he smokes? Is it the sight of Logan wandering in looking like a human pincushion?
(Is that a fuma shuriken?)]
What in the-- [Rhus scrambles to some sort of seating position. What?? Who?? Question marks?!?!?]
[ Logan's explanation is as crass and simple as the rest of him: ] I fucking [ the door slams loudly, rattling on its hinges ] hate ninjas.
[ It's an extremely large shuriken, indeed. Logan doesn't even bother pulling it out as he sits on the bed and bleeds appropriately on the sheets.
The smell of fogweed is clear enough he knows Rhus is high, but he rants anyway, lifting one knee high to undo the laces of his boots. ]
This is all Daredevil's fucking fault, never wanting to kill his enemies-- you know we wouldn't have the fucking Hand on my ass with their undead motherfucking zombie ghost ninjas if he just said, "oh, yeah, I'm fine with killing murderous corpse disrespecting motherfuckers", but no! [ The boot is undone, kicked roughly off his foot to slam into the wall and then slide down sadly. Logan works on the next one. ] Daredevil's just as fucking pussy as the rest of them, which means Elektra ain't gonna be slaughtering the Hand any time soon, and so every fucking time they attack me and shove weapons into my body like it's a god damn competition--
[Rhus takes note to not reveal to Logan that he can become a ninja at any given time because clearly this is more than just bad blood. He's heard of the Hand before, little whispers here and there, but he never knew they reached this far into the West.
He drops his pipe onto the bedside table and scrambles towards Logan, taking the fuma shuriken in hand, uncaring about how it nicks his skin, and yanks it out.]
So what-- why are they here? Just for you??
[But the bigger question is: does Rhus care? Because his temper is bubbling up despite his smoking habit, and already the beast-like nature that made him a terror on the battlefield is creeping into his mind. He probably wont even get to ask them why, because they'd all be dead once he gets his claws on them.
Of course, Rhus knows that Logan has assassins after him, he's already been on the receiving end of such attempts before, but he has not seen Logan this angry enough to rant about them. Of course, being dead at the time certainly didn't help... And he'd revived quick enough to see the man in the middle of a feral berserker rage over his body, so circumstances back then were different than they are now.
But is the Hand part of this constant hunt for Logan?]
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so by character you mean this shirt's got something ridiculous printed on it right
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[ Albeit impossible; next year she will look the same. ]
It's a little kitsch...? I dunno. I think it's fetching. I'm almost at the door.
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[ And man, Logan's entire life is... minimalist kitsch, he feels. Something Eli probably sees when she opens the door to his temporary living space and sees its a) near-emptiness; b) how what is there is kind of just. Piled up in a corner.
She does have a point, though. The blood and holes in his shirt look even worse in reality than they did in the picture he sent.
When he sees her, Logan holds his hand out. ] Hand it over, kiddo.
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[ Her immediate impulse is to pull him inside. He is a blood soaked spectacle. But she can't intrude. The view into the room is recognizable: an economy of things in a state of disorder. A sense of impermanence and flight. She too lives in relative emptiness.
Eli removes the folded shirt from a plastic bag, and handing it over, is confident in her selection: a loud Hawaiian shirt weaving birds and red flowers upon a black canvas. ]
May I come inside? I've brought other things.
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[ Sometimes he forgets.
He does take the shirt, however, and thinks it'd be perfect for sneaking around if not for the strong reds. Smells a lot better than blood and sweat, though, to be fair, so he grunts a thanks and pulls the first shirt off so he can button the new one up.
Logan doesn't bother with a 'how do I look', but he does frown at how tight it is in his upper body and how his height means the shirt billows a bit once its hem is below his chest. ]
What else you got? [ He ends up popping the top button, but feels like a douchebag for doing it. ]
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i hope you don't mind logan knowing?? what eli is???? rip
Not at all, it might help them open up
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pick me up
[ Okay, maybe he just wants to piss Badou off a little. ]
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WHY should i???no subject
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i could be texting my dead mother too but that dont mean im gonna go get her mcdonalds(no subject)
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happiness makes folks spend like nothing
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[ Just ask dear old dad. ]
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[ Or so Logan says as he tries to scrub the furious stains of red from his white button-down. He gets it, he does -- it's his fault for wearing a fucking tuxedo to work -- but the assassination was supposed to happen nice and clean, and not at all with Victor sinking his stupid fucking claws into the target and ripping him in literal half.
Logan grumbles, holding the shirt up to the light. It's unsalvageable. The pink is going to stay in the fabric forever. ]
...you owe me a new suit.
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[ He's leaning against a wall, picking flesh out of his claws. That's going to stain. Never mind the splash of red down his own front. He sighs and pulls a damned hair out from under one of his nails. Where the hell had that come from? Oh well. ]
You can have a damned new suit. Give the kid a chance to take you shopping.
[ Married for over a hundred years, Victor Creed is still an asshole. ]
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You'd like that, wouldn't you. [ Fingers flexing over it, he snorts. ] Last time we went shopping those jeans were too fucking tight.
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But Vic noticed how tight those jeans were too. So, he's just going to smirk. ]
I remember.
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https://78.media.tumblr.com/e876f32bea38b880c0c60a7483b0aeb5/tumblr_mv8v4yNUz61qh6w8to1_1280.jpg
While you were out on a solo.
[ A beat, and then he tries to speak as casually as he can: ] They're black.
GOD I LOVE COMICS
Black huh?
[ He can get behind his husband in black panties. Won't be the first time, though it has been a long time.... He listens for a moment, but their kid is locked in her room, pissed about something or another. He's not sure what, but when he'd gone to see if she was okay, she'd growled at him to go away, so he'll wait until later to see if she's alright.
But back to the important stuff. Like Logan in black panties. ]
You gonna put 'em on for me?
[ He really wants to see that. The thought is enough to send blood rushing to certain places. ]
canon crossdressing logan is literally everything to me
[ He's bullshitting and they both know it. Logan's affinity for wearing women's underwear is big enough that he'd do it even without Victor asking him to.
But it's been a while. Why not have a little fun with it? ]
I never knew I needed it in my life...
He turns his head and scrapes his teeth over tight abs. ]
Me takin' you out of 'em a good enough reason?
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The Morning After...
/cracks knuckles
Except the situation is neither. And the Warrior of Light cant even tell what exactly he's taken aback by. Is it the sudden slam of the door as it's shoved open so suddenly and violently? Is it because he's so high? Is it because he's almost naked, only in a pair of shorts and lounging on the bed as he smokes? Is it the sight of Logan wandering in looking like a human pincushion?
(Is that a fuma shuriken?)]
What in the-- [Rhus scrambles to some sort of seating position. What?? Who?? Question marks?!?!?]
God
[ It's an extremely large shuriken, indeed. Logan doesn't even bother pulling it out as he sits on the bed and bleeds appropriately on the sheets.
The smell of fogweed is clear enough he knows Rhus is high, but he rants anyway, lifting one knee high to undo the laces of his boots. ]
This is all Daredevil's fucking fault, never wanting to kill his enemies-- you know we wouldn't have the fucking Hand on my ass with their undead motherfucking zombie ghost ninjas if he just said, "oh, yeah, I'm fine with killing murderous corpse disrespecting motherfuckers", but no! [ The boot is undone, kicked roughly off his foot to slam into the wall and then slide down sadly. Logan works on the next one. ] Daredevil's just as fucking pussy as the rest of them, which means Elektra ain't gonna be slaughtering the Hand any time soon, and so every fucking time they attack me and shove weapons into my body like it's a god damn competition--
/eyebrow waggle
He drops his pipe onto the bedside table and scrambles towards Logan, taking the fuma shuriken in hand, uncaring about how it nicks his skin, and yanks it out.]
So what-- why are they here? Just for you??
[But the bigger question is: does Rhus care? Because his temper is bubbling up despite his smoking habit, and already the beast-like nature that made him a terror on the battlefield is creeping into his mind. He probably wont even get to ask them why, because they'd all be dead once he gets his claws on them.
Of course, Rhus knows that Logan has assassins after him, he's already been on the receiving end of such attempts before, but he has not seen Logan this angry enough to rant about them. Of course, being dead at the time certainly didn't help... And he'd revived quick enough to see the man in the middle of a feral berserker rage over his body, so circumstances back then were different than they are now.
But is the Hand part of this constant hunt for Logan?]