Who: Logan Howlett / Wolverine and Kitty Pryde / Shadowcat What: Kitty just told Logan some bad news. Logan intends to drink all his money. Where: The Rabbit Hole When: The 27th, Early morning Rating: R. Logan is going to swear, shout, and probably break things. Status: In progress
Logan's life had not been a collection of sunshine and pretty rainbows and nobody could argue that. He'd lived a life that often made him prone to fits of binge drinking and long rides into places where he didn't know anybody or anything. A lot of people in his life likely assumed that he was off looking for answers, or just being his usual anti-social self. Logan didn't give a fuck either, they could think whatever they wanted, they didn't have to know the truth..
Which was that a lot of times, when Logan split town, it was because he knew what was coming. He knew what he was about to be seeing would likely tip the scales of his control and, if he didn't walk away, he was likely going to drive his fist very deep into something soft and fleshy. Nobody wanted that, and Logan had enough blood on his claws that even he wasn't quite so punchy as he'd been in decades past. Of course, there was a problem with that this time.
It came in the shape of a large force field that prevented Logan from being able to get away and it was compounded by the fact that Logan had no outlet for his rage. The fact that it had been Kitty who told him, subsequently attempting to quiet what she knew would happen, and the fact that Summers wasn't here, was a small miracle for this town. If she hadn't been on the other side of that PDA, making good points, the property damage by morning in this town would have probably been high enough to warrant a lynch mob.
Logan slammed a balled fist against the flat of the door, throwing it open and carrying him inside with a nailed scowl on his face. It was a clear and present neon sign, which fortunately there was no one present but the bartender to read, that read quite clearly: Talk to me and I might stab you. It was a justified sign too and while the odds of stabbings were actually low, thanks largely in part to the fact that he knew Kitty and Laura were here, there was a very good chance he would break something -- if not somethings -- of any poor fuck who didn't get out of his way.
Logan dropped himself onto a stool with an uncerimonious thunk and kept his eyes forward. He had no doubt Kitty would show up, trying to talk some semblance of sense into him. It was just what she did. Still, if there was anyone who could keep him from destroying things that did not belong to him, it was likely her.
"Scotch. Neat. Leave the fucking bottle." Logan half snapped at the bartender. "Please." Was even added through clenched teeth. The sooner he drank, the sooner the odds of him punching someone random, dropped dramatically.