Looking For a Target

Click Here for XP!!!

Brief Title:

Wolverine and Finesse

Scene Runner/Watcher:

IC Date:
04/02/13 11:18


A future version of Finesse runs into Logan in a bar.

Social or Plot:


In search of his prey, the Canadian mutant's followed several leads and they've led him across the city. Sure X-23 has the edge on him in a lot of ways, but one thing he has over her is experience and in some ways that experience leads to a heightening of instinct.

It's just one such instinct that led the man here, to a place that's seen better days. Dominic's on the river used to be a decent place where the stevedores would congregate after a long day of work. But then the unions were shut down, then some of the shipyards, work became scarce and now Dom's place is still going mainly on inertia propelled by equal parts pension checks and despair.

But in hard times folk have to do what they have to do to make ends meet. So Dom's has become known as a place for people to meet up. To make connections for 'finding' things off the docks. If it's illegal in the Burroughs of the city then chances are in some ways Dom's connected to it.

Through the front door, Logan walks. This late at night is the busiest the place usually gets what with a handful of crowds of older men, some younger ones, women of questionable repute, and the men who look after them. There's that low buzz of a crowd, but a man like Logan... he's overlooked in a place like this. He just fits in.

Another woman of questionable repute makes her way into Dominic, although from the way she looks, her questionable repute might come from the very obvious way she carries herself. Dressed in a skin tight black spandex suit, with a single white streak across her shoulders, and a V along her neckline, she stands out. Not just for the costume in lieu of proper clothes, but also the black domino mask around her eyes, but more importantly, the dual katanas extending over each of her shoulders. There's a very visible pistol holstered at her hip, and a blade sheathed into her left boot.

She doesn't seem to have a specific goal in mind as she sets foot in the establishment, but she does advance towards Logan once she spots him, looking at him with a frozen expression that might suggest she doesn't have friendly chit-chat in mind. Unless of course Logan might recognize this much older looking Finesse.

When she finally gets close enough, she says in a whispering tone, "Logan...got any fun projects you're working on?"

She definitely causes a stir. People glance over and one can almost read the lips of one of the women saying to the men around her, 'What a freak.' though in this crowd the words aren't loud enough to carry. Some of the men eye her though, with some suspicion but also the way men look at a women in skin tight spandex on a flattering silhouette.

As for Logan, he'd been making his way towards the end of the bar. The tender even looked at him as he placed his order. But then that woman approaches him and suddenly the bar patrons around him find a reason to be elsewhere, especially moreso as the name Logan around these parts does carry some measure of weight. And it's not good weight.

When his eyes fall on her she'll be able to read his body language. There's suspicion, a narrowing of his eyes, a faint tilt of his head. She smells familiar, that almost overly clean scent tinged with exertion and steel. When she gets close enough to speak to him he doesn't answer at first. Instead he looks towards the tender and holds up two fingers.

With a pair of heinekens secured he instead sits down at one of the overly tall tables just off the bar and nods for her to come over with him. When she's close enough again she'll hear his gravelly voice as he almost growls. "Maybe. Maybe not. What's the deal, Fin?"

Finesse doesn't seem to mind being called a freak if she does overhear some of the comment, and certainly doesn't seem to mind being checked out as she doesn't give a glance to those men who do fancy her looks. She just keeps straight on towards Logan, the one person she seems to know in this locale.

Following Logan without question, Finesse moves to sit with him as she reaches for the second beer, "can I assume it's a token of friendship?" She asks, before taking a sip regardless of his reply, "I just saw you, and I know sometimes you're involved in things where my services could be of use. I could use more employers to fund my research."

She'll see that furrow to his brow, that momentary hesitation. His expression sharpens a touch and he nods towards her with a small toss of his head, letting her have that beer as well as perhaps agreeing with what she says. For a time he watches her drink. Normally he's more subtle in some ways, like if he's going to check out a particular female colleague he uses a few of the more unobtrusive techniques. But right now he gives her a visible once-over. An eyebrow cocks and he asks, "New costume?"

Of course by asking this he sidesteps her own advanced topic, perhaps not wanting to involve her... or perhaps he's broke.

Finesse, being a minor aside, doesn't drink. So if there's one tell-tale sign that she's not quite herself, this would be it, as she downs that beer like a pro before slamming the empty glass on the table. "Not that new...but glad you noticed," Finesse quips, smirking at Logan, "you make such lovely company. So, you know a person that worth money to someone should he find himself dead all of a sudden? I need to reload my bank account..."

Oh it's not just the apparent age, nor the drinking, it's the more obvious handle on her emotions and social interactions. For a moment he lets her words hang there, then meets them with a few of his own. "No offense, darlin'..." The stocky man reaches for his drink, one hand flashing silver as a slim blade slides forth between his knuckles with a faint metallic ring. The top of the bottle is sliced off and *tinks* softly onto the tabletop even as Logan takes a pull from the drink. Lowering it, he finishes his thought. "I tend ta find that if someone needs gettin' dead, best handle it m'self."

"Well you're no fun..." Finesse comments as she watches Logan open the bottle in his own unique fashion, "these are handy, I should see if I could find a plausible fashion to give myself some of those," she muses aloud before leaning back in her seat. "Do you at least have connections to some creeps who could help me earn some green?"

Brushing past her words with a casual wave of one hand, as if simply sliding them aside, he leans forward upon the table causing it to groan in complaint against his heavy adamantium frame. "One sec, girl." Those dark blue eyes of his meet her gaze levelly and he looks closely at her, his expression keen and measured as he perhaps tries to gauge her entirely. "What do you remember about the last time we met up?"

At this point he's got a hunch, helped out by something Mirage mentioned off handedly. But this is a touch disconcerting, and speaks ill for Finesse's future in some ways.

"Last time we met it was over that fun little Creed chase, remember? Sabretooth got stupid and thought he can mess around with Shaw properties. Now, normally we don't help, Mr. Shaw, him being an awful guy and all...but you gotta admit, he has cash, and that job was one you couldn't refuse, now could you?" Finesse talks with a teasing lilt, looking directly at Logan and seeming quite amused. "I've learned from a lot of fighters, Logan, but that night you still offered me something new I could learn. I owe you thanks for that."

Another pull of beer is taken before he responds to her. But it's lack of response that she can probably read just as easily as anything he'd say. It's clear he doesn't remember, or that there's some confusion. He shakes his head after a moment, the glass of the bottle clinking as he sets it back down on the table. Askance he looks at her and tells her calmly, "Now m'not exactly a fella who can vouch for his recollections n'all..." There's a smirk as he meets her gaze then he adds, "But I don't recall any of that, n'trust me, if yer meanin' what I think yer meanin' with that last bit. Well, I figure I'd remember that."

"Yes, you would...I'm surprised," Finesse says, looking a bit distrustful for a moment, but after a quick glance at Logan's visage she asserts, "you're not a fake. So this is weird." Unnerved by the realization that there's an oddity she can't explain, Finesse falls silent and drums her fingers on the table. "Did you have a meeting with a telepath lately? Emma Frost upset with you?"

"Put it this way," Logan finishes the last of his beer with one last pull. He swallows it, then meets her gaze with his own as if reassessing her anew. A glance is given towards the bartender, placing their next round with a nod as he looks back towards her. "The Finesse I know is this lil gal with a chip on her shoulder, not old enough ta drink and still tryin' ta figure out what's the deal with small talk."

There's a pause, and then with that old half-smile of his that's almost lupine he gives her another look that'd make almost any gal blush. "Then again," He scritches at the back of his neck with a fingertip, "I'm bettin' it was a helluva memory."

"Is that so?" Finesse asks, leaning forward while placing her elbows on the table, smirking at Logan, "have you been in a coma lately? Because that was quite some time ago," she laughs, "those silly arguments with Jean Grey, such a waste of time." She tilts her head slightly as he gives her a flirty kind of smile, and keeps her gaze intently on his, "it was one of the more amusing outings, for sure. So..that look is the equivalent of you making a pass at me? Or were you just trying to get me blush?"

"Nah," Logan smirks but the faint gleam in his eyes give the hint to that lie. "If I was makin' a pass at ya, you'd know it." Then again perhaps part of him is holding out to find out exactly what's going on with people seeming to change at times into other versions of themselves. Then again...

His blue eyes meet her own as one of the bar waitresses saunters over with a pair of replacements for the dead soldiers at their table. After the bottles are taken away he pushes one towards her while opening his own, this time just by twisting the top off. It's after a swig is taken that he adds, "You on the other hand, I get the feelin' I might entirely miss it if you made at me yerself." That could be a compliment in a way... then again it might not.

"Right, you forget the tiny little fact about me never making mistakes," Finesse teases Logan lightly, insinuating that she is still of the opinion he was making a pass at her regardless of his claims. "You think...?" Finesse seems to take it as a personal challenge, and within seconds she plants her hand on the table and hefts her body upwards. She slides across the table and winds up on the other end, staddling Logan while pressing his shoulders into the back support, "did you miss my making a pass at you just now?"

Pressed back into his seat and suddenly beset upon by the nubile young woman, Logan's only troubled about the rightness of the situation for a moment. Oh it's there, the momentary glimmer of trepidation as his eyes hood. But then his body betrays him with that subtle parting of his mouth, the faint flaring of his nostrils as he takes in her scent so close at hand. The tip of his tongue flicks faintly over his lips moistening them as suddenly his mouth dries.

His jaw sets and there's that roguish and wild half-smile. He lifts his chin and she'll feel the tip of his nose touch hers. She's close enough to feel the warmth of him against her, to take in that utterly primal scent of him. "You sure about this, darlin'?" To his credit he gives this chance, this small window to hold off before he gives in to the temptation.

Meanwhile across the room a few chortles come from the other patrons in the room. Some lewd comments ore gestures might be made, but the people here know Logan well enough not to do anything more obvious lest they draw his attention.

"It was you who posed the scenario whereby you would not notice if I were to make a pass at you, I believe I just proved your hypothesis false," Finesse grins at Logan as his nose touches her, clearly there's still some of the Finesse he knows in her, considering the choice of words. Hearing the chortles, Finesse can ignore them, but once lewd comments and gestures are involved, she throws a couple of shurikens into the crowd. They wind up sticking to the walls of the establishment, not harming anyone, but the message is clear. "You have your natural pheremones, Logan, and your physique, it's only natural that a woman would be attracted to you," she whispers, dipping her lips close to Logan's, brushing against his lips, and then all at once she flips to the side and lands on her feet infront of the table. "Unfotunately, you had no leads to provide for me, and I'm strapped for cash, I have to go." Just like that she turns to leave.

The patrons reel as those shurikens slice through the air, then thunk sharply into the wall. People take cover, a woman starts to shriek but catches herself...

And then as quickly as that she's up and moving away. It leaves Logan there with that wry half-smirk on his lips as he shakes his head and looks down for a moment, then back up with one eye scrunched up a bit. A hand lifts as he gestures with a small wave towards her, "Don't get inta too much trouble, kid." He picks up his beer bottle again and takes a sip of it, eyes gleaming subtly as she steps to the door and out.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License