Who: Wolverine OTA What: Wolverine has so much to be thankful for When: 11/27 in the wee hours of morning (maybe 1 am or so) Where: The Candy Store, a gentleman's club of the sleaziest sort. Warnings: The setting implies sexuality, although he won't be interacting with the girls.
Logan sat on a chair drawn back a ways from the stage, only half watching the blond shake her ass in his face. She wasn't his type, not that any of them really were. Col. Worley had sent him to New York to help with some new project, but it wasn't scheduled to start for a few weeks yet which meant he had a bit more free time than he really wanted. Not that it was free time that had brought him here tonight. He didn't know what had, to be honest. Loneliness, he supposed. Arriving right at the holiday meant that a lot of the staff was gone and one of the things he'd learned in the last few years was that his current rank meant being lonely. A Master Sergeant, the lower rank and file were intimidated by him. He'd gone pretty much as far as an enlisted man could go. But he wasn't an officer, either, so that mess wasn't open to him. And most of the men, and he supposed women too, who'd managed his rank had also managed a family of some sort, or they had a family from their parents. So Fort Hamilton was a very lonely place for him right now.
The blond finished and a red head took her place, making him sit up a bit and take notice. Gentlemen may prefer blonds, but Logan had never pretended to be a gentleman and red heads had always seemed more his speed. When she bent over he could smell her, warm and earthy. It made him growl low and rumbling in the back of his throat, his sensitive nose twitching slightly as he opened his mouth to pant, tasting her scent on the air. But that only made him frown. She tasted fake, even from here. Her natural muskiness covered with cheap perfume. Disgusting.
So he turned his attention back to his beer. Not that drinking it did him much good. But he'd paid a lot of money for that beer, and he intended to drink it. Not that it would do much to him. He'd always had a high alcohol tolerance, but for the last year, it didn't seem to matter how much beer he drank, it didn't faze him. The harder stuff still could. Usually. Although not in a place like this where it was watered down and over priced. Really, he was better off with his beer. But then, what else could you expect at a place like this on the night that was about giving thanks for your blessings. Even if it was Black Friday now. He didn't have anyone to shop for, so what was the point.
His eyes were caught by his hand, clenched slightly around the bottle. He could barely make out the ridges on the back of his hand that showed here those things were. He was as much a freak-show as anything the girl on stage was doing (and she was definitely putting on a bit of a freak show).
More than a bit disgusted with the whole thing, he waived one of the girls over and ordered another beer. At least if one of the girls was fawning over him, he had something to occupy his mind other than his maudlin thoughts. Even if that only made him wonder at what could make a girl do this sort of thing with herself instead of being home with her own family on this night about being thankful for what you have. Logan thought he finally understood why the suicide rate was so high around the holidays.