16404/Two Animals Walk into a Bar

Two Animals Walk into a Bar
Date of Scene:	03 July 2024
Location:	Josie's Bar, Clinton
Synopsis:	The two animals remind each other of their bloody past, and Josie's pays the price in the present.
Cast of Characters:	Sabretooth, Wolverine

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Sabretooth has posed:
It was, as they say, a dark and stormy night. Rain was pissing down and the type of people that liked using Josie's as their watering hole sat in clumps, huddled around their drinks. Jukebox did its best to fill the room with music and only vaguely succeeded. Given that it was full of oldies and miscellaneous other tracks that Josie liked. The door opened against the dark and the pour and a _big_ man walked in.

To the minnows in Josie's, the reaction was near-immediate. Nobody got in his way. Nobody gave him shit about wearing a hat indoors. They just let him shrug off his duster, hang it up on a convenient coatrack. But there's always someone too dumb to realize when they're outmatched, too full of themselves and too drunk (perhaps) to know when they're in over their head.

Today, that part would be played by Fat Derek. Part-time gangbanger, part time petty crook, full time drug user, and full time complete idiot. Fat Derek was getting up to go and, unsteady from chemicals and alcoholic inebriation, bumped hard against the big man.

"Hey, assshole." slurred Derek. "Why don'tcha get out of my way?"

Wolverine has posed:
Logan likes Josie's. It's not his frequent haunts, but he does return to it from time to time. A good dive is more than a shithole that will get you drunk. Those are the kind of places that will call you, "Rummy" before offering to liquoring someone up and that someone just not caring about the insult.

Josie may call you an "Asshole," she may not want to hear about your life story, but there is a loyalty to the regulars. If someone, like Fat Derek, starts messing up the place the bar will react. A solditary that typically, leaves, breaths, eats and sleeps strictly at Josies. Hell, that's the place most people see each other.

Logan likes that soliditary. He'll tip higher because of it. The man's indian motorcycle roars as he pulls into the parking lot. Cowboy boots clunk against sidewalk as he walks up to the place. Dressed in a pair of medium jeans, simple black shirt and a light brown bomber jacket with a light tan cowboy hat, Logan pauses as he looks into the window to see the incoming storm. Bad things are about to happen at Josie's.

Sabretooth has posed:
Creed just looked at Fat Derek. So not worth the effort but hey. He offered disrepect. Bumped into him. That kindas thing he just wasn't going to stand for. Creed smiled down at Fat Derek, fangs definitely showing, and with one out-of-nowhere sucker-punched KO'ed Fat Derek, dropping him to the floor like the sack of shit he was.

None of the regulars reacted, save for hard looks interspersed with both fear and respect. Creed bent low, pick up Fat Derek's unconsciousd body, and then dropped him unceremoniously into a chair, his head slamming into the tabletop.

Satisfied, Creed walked up to the bar to look Josie dead in her eyes.

"Whiskey. Just bring the bottle." he said, and then reached into his pocket to pull out a fad wad of bills, peeling off a few and leaving them on the surface of the bar.

Wolverine has posed:
The door opens up and Logan just stands barely inside. "Wanna try again, bub?" he knows Creed would have smelled him before approaching. So, Logan couldn't bump into Creed like he wanted. This is the next best thing. Oh, the way Logan is glaring at Creed matches the looks given by Josie's patrons. Apparently creed and this small guy have history. Some people may start to give the pair room.

Sabretooth has posed:
Creed has his back to the door. Dumb, tactically, but it wasn't about tactics. "Logan." Creed said, foregoing for once his usual term of 'runt'. He then poured himself a finger or two of the whiskey, swallowed it down in a single gulp. Healing factor burned off the buzz almost before it could happen but he did enjoy the flavor. He then gestured to the barstool next to his. Couple of ways this could go down.

The runt'd take a seat, share his whiskey. Runt would come in growling, claws out, looking for a good scrap. Runt'd stand there like an idiot, waiting for Creed to make a move.

So what's it gonna be, Logan?

Wolverine has posed:
"I'll be waitin' outside if ya got the guts fer round, two." Ocean blue eyes look over the patrons. Oh, Logan wants to stab Victor, but Josie's is a small dive. They're bound to break something or worse. They fight outside, more of an open arena. That's the aim, or goal for Logan, stab creed and minimize collateral damage.

Plans can go sideways though. Either way, Logan will try to slip outside. Wise men will often say, never turn your back on someone you respect or are afraid of. So, Logan will turn his back on Creed just to slip outside.

Sabretooth has posed:
Creed poured himself another two fingers of his whiskey, then slammed it back. Runt might have a smidge of sense, then. Or he liked this bar and didn't want to get it trashed. He couldn't remember the specifics - small surprise, that - but he knew this was a dance they'd done dozens of times. More, probably. One or the other of them, blood on their claws, on the ground. Someone groaning in pain, someone exultant in triumph.

Without a sound he stood up, grabbing the bottle in one hand. Nodding to Josie, he made his way to the coatrack to put his duster back on, then without a glance left Josie's bar to go meet the runt outside.

On his table, Fat Derek blubbered as he slowly, agonizingly, regained consciousness.

Wolverine has posed:
Logan just waits and outside and will toss off the coat, letting that be a victim int his. Logan will just wait for Creed to come outside. A smirk pulls at Logan's lips, "I figured ya weren't gonna show. What brings ya outta hidin' Creed?" Deep down Logan knows when an animal goes quiet, something is afoot. And Creed has been quiet for far too long. So, Logan waits for an answer.

"Tryin' to find the old team? Yer son? N' why a dive like Josie's? Yer taste gettin' worse at yer old age?" Logan's trying to goad Creed, but not into taking the first swing. He wants some details, even vague ones. Soemthing to work with later.

Creed might think Logan will be disappointed over a lack of specifics, when he actually just wants a broad stroke of information. A starting point, really. Why was Creed quiet until now? That's the question for Logan.

Sabretooth has posed:
Creed just responded by taking a pull straight from the bottle, then offering it to Logan if he were so inclined. "Business." he said curtly. "Felt thirsty. Wanted a drink." he said, then shook the whiskey bottle to emphasize his point. "Figure you'd be in Westchester along with the frails and Papa Cueball." he offered by way of an explanation.

He;d got a message from Uncle Sam. Possible gig on domestic soil, utterly deniable. Which usually meant that someone had to die. Or multiple someones. He was notoriously not too fussy on that score. So long as the pay was good and favors exchanged, it was all good to him.

But somewhere in the ruined mess that passed for the mind of Victor Creed, he felt something at seeing the runt that he hadn't felt in a long time.

Not happiness, that was for sure. Kinship? Maybe. Feelings weren't exactly his forte, and for that matter neither were memories.

Wolverine has posed:
"Figured you'd be down in a gutter wit' someone that has blue skin n' red hair," he counters since shots are fired against Xavier mansion. They both keep questionable company ine ach other's eyes.

Logan figured Creed probably did some black ops jobs, something offshore and deniable if it went sideways.

It had been a while. The anger is still there. All the times Creed taunted him over the life he can't remember, death and everything else. It's an odd sensation.

"I should bloody yer nose fer what'shisname back there. Guy was drunk n' we both know ya coulda just knocked him on his ass. That bored?" he questions Creed. To Logan taht felt like restlessness.

Sabretooth has posed:
"Like you give a shit." Creed retorted. Ahhh, now there's the old familiar anger welling up. He didn't even know _why_ the runt pissed him off so much, just that he did. "Any time you want to step up, take yer shot." Creed said, then remembered the bottle in his hand and took a swallow. "Offered you whiskey. Quiet moment at a bar. Like old times." he said impulsively, not even knowing if he was talking out of his ass or not. "This gets bloody, that's on you. Think I still remember Cueball's emergency number. I'll make sure to give him a call, have that little redhead you're soft on come and kiss your boo-boos away." he taunted. "Assuming she gets here before you bleed out."

"Maybe that little Asian firecracker, or the mousy little girl that walks through walls. Think they'd come if I strung you up?" he asked.

Wolverine has posed:
"Little redhead went off wit' her stick in the mud." Althoughb the bleed out part catches his attention to say the least. "Don't mind if it gets bloody or not creed, but ya come into twon n' trouble alwasy follows. Just a question if yer doin it fer fun, fer someone else's cause, or a paycheck," Logan smirks as a thought comes to him.

"Were ya always this annoyin' back in thsoe days? Can't remember, but ya always were forgetable even now," Logan says just poking at a thread. Creed talked about a past, almost like another life, where they were friends. Those days are gone. And Logan's just poking at those past days gone by.

Sabretooth has posed:
"Bet that burns." Creed observed. "Hot little redhead, turns up her nose at the runt, runs off with the safe, boring choice." he smirked. "Gotts ssy, think we've both heard that story before outta you." he taunted, then sighed and took another swallow of his whiskey. About a third of the bottle gone now, no sign of a buzz. "Fuck, you're boring. You wanna get bloody, take a damned swing already. Or did that little redhead run off with the boring boy and your balls in her purse?" he said with a laugh.

"Izzat it? Just not feelin' much like a man, moonin' over a bit of skirt?"

Wolverine has posed:
Thinking on it, Logan smirks a bit, but will say nothing about the choice. For Logan it's not provocation. Provocation involves anger, this doesn't involve anger. There's just a "SNIKT!" as the claws come out and he tries to go for the leg, something that might slow creed down for a few seconds. "Don't ya get sick of hearin' yerself talk." Logan's more annoyed than anything. "Like ya haven't made a shot 'bout a redhead before," everyone knows Jean is a weakness. Well, was.

Sabretooth has posed:
Creed's a lot taller than Logan, so it's easier for him to range the little buzzsaw. Victor turned himself sideways, putting the leg Logan was going for further back. Harder to reach. And as Logan came in, Victor didn't even bother with popping his claws out. Instead he swung the half-full whiskey bottle like a club, right upside Logan's head.

Whole lotta English on that shot as well - Logan's skull don't break and if he wants to rattle the grey stuff, he's gonna need to make his blows _count_.

Wolverine has posed:
"CRASH!" the glass explodes over his head and shards fly everywhere. It hurts, but its' more annoying than anything . He's a little wobbly for a second. Boots crucnch against the glass shards and he tries to get bac kfor a basis. Victor has a good moment to do a good follow up before Logan can get back to even footing. Be a good way to get a few more shots in.

Sabretooth has posed:
Sabretooth loves opening liks that. The claws come out - not as dramatically as Logan's, but they're nearly as effective. The runt's reeling, his gray matter jostled a bit. Won't slow him down for long but he doesn't need long. And he's got that arm, claws already out, that he was gonna use to poke him in the leg. Only fair to return the favor - Victor grabs that flailing arm, right by the elbow, digs the claws in and _rakes_ down Logan's arm towards his wrist. Bloody, sure, but he's not looking for blood loss.

He wants to pop tendons like rubber bands. Make him take the time to heal, to make the arm muscles usable.

Wolverine has posed:
Claws bite into the skin and rake down toward the wrist. Bloost loss. The crimson pours from that line, but it does cause Victor to get in close. With the law arm claws go down into Victor's closest thigh. Thsoe slashes inspire Logan, he's trying to knick major spots in the thigh as he goes in for stabs. Maybe a good gut slash just because it would be annoying.

The right arm he would try to jerk awayy. It may be mostly useless for a few seconds. Certain cuts, nerve strikes, etc. would make a limb useless. The healing factor makes hort work of it, but he will still feels the effects as the blood starts to splatter against the side walk.

Sabretooth has posed:
One of these days he'd remember that the Wolverine was a vicious infighter, possibly one of the best on the planet. The stabs hurt, he's bleeding, but he'll heal. Probably faster than Logan will. But the leg's still holding for now and Creed's not a half-bad infighter himself. And he doesn't have a range problem with his claws, what with being much shorter. With a roar Creed sunk his claws into Logan's torso, avoiding the unbreakable bones in favor of those juicy little nerve clusters, all that hard muscle clinging to those bones.

They made for wonderful handles.

With as much of his might as his wounded leg would let him muster, he tried to -throw- Wolverine away from him, to open up the space again, give him some room to move. To let his leg heal.

Wolverine has posed:
The side claws bite inti his sides, Logan's arms loop around and go upward. The left is more precise with the stab, the right is like stabbing with a makeshift spear as it's still healing. The thing with Logan's claws, they reach a lot deeper. They can cut through more, too. So, while Sabertooth digs for nerves, Logan's just looking to hollow out paths that start at th eribs and get as close to the heart as possible. And Logan lets himself be thrown, because Sabertooth will deal with the claws pushing forward a little more, deepning those cuts, expanding the wound then tossing him, causing cuts along the chest. Logan's taking two or three shots, to get a good shoot on Creed. That claw length can be the difference maker. So, it depends on how far Logan gets thrown, the amount of damage he does in turn.

Sabretooth has posed:
The rips are already knitting closed, the internal damage mending itself. Still hurt like a bitch, though. Had to give points to the runt. That _hurt_.

"Last chance, runt, to walk away before you really get hurt." he offered. But if he wanted this to get bloody - bloodier - he was certainly game.

Wolverine has posed:
Logan feels everything mending. Oh, it hurts. But he rises up slowly. "That all ya got," Logan says trying to play more smart defense instead of bloody defense. trying to get Sabertooth to lead some kind of attack. Logan has all six claws out, that's what he wants to use to keep Creed at bay. Unless one of them goes througha window, down an alleyway or anything like that, they're fighting in the open. There's no way one can ambus the other.

Sabretooth has posed:
"Not even close." Victor promised the little man. "You want some, come and get some." he said with a grin. He wasn't lost to bloodlust yet but the smell of the blood spilled - the blood literally on his hande - was intoxicating with its coppery tang. He was already starting to forget that he hadn't come here with homicide on his mind. There was something he might have wanted to talk to the runt about. Ah well. Probably didn't matter. Kid wasn't going to listen anyway.

Wolverine has posed:
The smell of blood. All of the familiar stings, everything reminding him of old times. Bloody old times and how he missed them deep down. Seeing Creed across from him. Logan might not have wanted to fight, but the line has been drawn. The pair down care if it's crossed so Logan will go in, acting like he is going to pounce, isntead he'll slide and try to get low and inside, hit anything he could. Trying to go for either vital or debilitating, but he'll take anything he can get. Fighting smart is slowly going out the window in favor of fighting violently.

Sabretooth has posed:
Logan and Creed have danced this dance dozens or more times over the decades. Logan goes low, Creed skitters back and to one side, launching a low scything kick aimed for Logan's knee. Stick and move, don't let the runt up close. Superior strength, good quickness and agility. Hit and get _gone_. Get an opportunity, take it. Rip and tear. Nerves, tendons, vitals. No point going for bones like anyone else. Hammer him, keep hammering him. Don't let him heal up, rest, recover. And even then, brawls between them were known to take hours. Literally.

Wolverine has posed:
It's the familiarity of the dance. The kick goes in low, Logan gets out of the way on a pivot. He's not set up for a good counter attack that could land. However, it's a lot of good back and forth. Two fighters that know each other well. Creed has reach and strength. Logan has speed, agility and an added viciousness that only works when some attacks land.So, it's a question of who is going to get in first.

Creed willl go inf or a viol, Logan will use that reach. Unless they both give up shots, it may be a lot of dodges with no true counter. Although, he will try the classic leap up to bury the claws into Creed's body. That could be countered.

Sabretooth has posed:
Creed rechambers that kick almost immediately, lest Logan grab his leg and cut it into sashimi. Time to change it up - rather than going for the disabling shots, the crippling blows, Victor changes up his style. Now he was going for the long slow resource drain. Bleed the Wolverine, keep bleeding him, don't let him recover. Rip the wounds back open when they close. Superior strength could stun, crush muscles, rattle his brain around inside his unbreakable skull. Low crouch, clawed hands inviting Logan to grab, or to lunge in for body shots. Tempting the smaller man to come inside Victor's superior reach.

Wolverine has posed:
Logan knows the tactic. Bleed out the oppenant. It's only until the tactic is so far along that blood loss causes Logan's brain to kick back in. Still, he will try to do as much damage as he could. Still going for vital spots. Logan wants Creed to remember this. Even if some of the moves whiff, the anger pushes Logan onward. Trying to make the man pay. Trying to make the big guy remember, they have a blood feud and the waters will never really be calm between them. Even if today is just a subtle reminder for the senses.

Bloody, or not, Logan will try to go for anything that lsows, stills or stops sabertooth. If Crd didn't have that healing factor, Logan would try to scar. Sadly, that's not an option for him.

Sabretooth has posed:
Victor couldn't remember the last time he had so much sheer joy in life. Sure, the stabs hurt, the rakes worse. Sure, bones cracked and his blood splattered the floor. But no woman could ever make him feel like _this_.

Gloriously alive.

Logan was slowly. Making errors. The blood loss was getting to be more than his ability to heal could manage.

Perfect.

A trip, a twist of the wrist, and Logan slammed face-first into the pavement. Like a shot Creed was on him, driving stiffened fingers tipped with razor-sharp claws into his kidneys, his liver, his intestines. Over and over, perforating and ripping and tearing. He even managed to get a nerve cluster that fed into his spine, which really wrecked Logan's motor control. He reached in, using all those lovely unbreakable bones as handles, and stood up, carrying the bleeding and struggling Logan over his head in a military press. Then he launched the smaller man through the plate glass of Josie's Bar.

The shattering glass and the howls of pain were like sweet, sweet music.

Wolverine has posed:
Loganf eels that same bit of elation, even if it feels like h e's losing. Getting slammeed into the pavement confirms it. A groan leaves his lips.Then the screams and painful noises slips past with each organ and nerve stab. Logan growls and tries to focus, keeps hiself sharp. Although everything blurs and before he realizes it, Logan's body is up. Then there's a weightlessness as he's tossed.

"CRASH!" Logan flies into Josie's and he groans and rolls. The bits of shards little his skin and he is taking a bit to wake up. The healing factor just doing it's work.

Before too long, Logan tries to pick himself up. There's a slow rise to the noise and he puts down a foot before trying to stand. The key word is try. Also, other complications may be on the horizon.

Sabretooth has posed:
Complications like Logan's trasured motorcycle, flying through the air on the same course that he himself had a few moments before.

Outside, Creed sank to his knees. Overdid it, and the internal injuries Logan had inflicted hadn't healed that much. He'd tore open several somethings and they were proceeding to leak things into his body that really shoudln't be found outside their respective organs. Oh, fuck, it _hurt_.

So he was gonna take a moment there in the rain and try not to pass out as his body struggled to heal the damage inflicted to it. Just a minute or two then he could stand back up, get on his own bike, go find a flophouse to crash in. Give his body time to knit the wounds closed, heal his internal injuries.

Still, under all the pain, he floated in euphoria. His own inclinations and the best psyche-surgeons the Team-X project could find made sure of _that_.

Wolverine has posed:
And that's when the Motorcycle comes crashing it. Luckily, nothing flammable breaks. Logan's hit dead on. the bike kind of rolls over him and into a wall. He's back down on the ground. Pain surges through Logan, but there's one lingering thought. A small flicker of pain is there, one deeper than any of the visual wounds: He just hit me with my bike...

That's a deep wound that won't be easy to heal. At least it will be a reminder for the next time Logan sees Creed. There will be no more posturing. At the bare minimum, this is a wrong Loga will want to right. But that' later. Now, he just needs to heal. Let the healing factor kick in. Mend both the physical, and the emotional, wounds.