The Wolverine's Story

The choppy sound of a large bike came muffled through the thick walls of Gambit's. After a moment, the rumbling stopped, and the bar door opened with a slight creak. The man standing in the doorway was scruffy, to say the least, dressed in a brown leather jacket worn over a black sweater and simple jeans. He gave the air a sniff before sidling inside, one arm bent backwards as he slung a backpack off of his shoulder.

Place was empty, which he probably should have expected. It had some interesting smells in it, though, not all of which were unfamiliar. But let's not get ahead of ourselves...

Logan had been living on Terra for some time now, obviously, since it was the simultaneous existence of all realities. Granted, he had only become aware of it a short time ago when Chuck had opened his mind up for fear he might become vulnerable to unseen multiversal threats. That said, though Logan wasn't exactly intimate with the multiverse, he wasn't a dipshit either. And he at least knew enough to be able to seek out Remy's legendary bar. Figures the skeevy creole bastard would have gone and nabbed himself the most auspicious joint in reality.

With a heavy sigh, Wolverine settled into one of the plush bar stools and leaned heavily on crossed arms, looking to and fro for some kind of server...

Sweeping her raven hair behind her shoulders, the eighteen year old adjusted the sunglasses on her face. The red lenses covered up her very unnatural red eyes; something she obtained from her father's side of the gene pool. Releasing a deep sigh, she shoved open the door to exit out of the backroom and walked into the main part of the bar. Her blue metallic jacket covered her clothing and weapons, but still allowed her access to them if necessary. Beneath the jacket was a black pair of pants, black boots that went up to her thighs, and a silky black shirt with a leopard face screened onto the front. Her eyes took in the familiar scene and without a word, she made her way over towards the bar, sliding up on an abandoned stool, which wasn’t hard since the place was empty.

Since her sister was gone to Langara, Renée was taking it upon herself to watch over the bar, from the shadows of course. So far, everything seemed to be going smoothly, mostly because of the staff that Gabrielle had hired. She was certainly impressed with the security that had been brought back, though she did wish one of them had gone with her instead of Norrington, but beggars can’t be choosers, she supposed. Sighing, she leaned against the counter, motioning for the waiter to bring her a kamikaze. It was almost just like old times… minus her loving, but dysfunctional family. Scrunching up her nose, she tossed the liquid down her throat, feeling it burning all the way down. Just about to order another one, she heard and felt the sound of what had to be either a loud truck or a motorcycle coming nearby.

Glancing over her shoulder when the door open, she found herself staring at a man that was extremely familiar. But, surely she was mistaken. After all, why would he be back here? Turning back around, she figured it was nothing but a figment of her imagination. When the figure sat down nearby, she shifted her gaze towards him, her red eyes still hidden behind the sunglasses. The barkeep walked over to him to serve him and she crossed one leg over the other, watching silently.

Logan looked up at the nondescript man who approached. It was kinda weird how it was literally impossible to describe how the bartender looked. Kinda...stout, but tall at the same time, with a receding...you know what? Forget it. Logan shook his head and uttered a single word.

"Molson. Bottle."

The impossible guy went off to fetch the requested beer and Logan glanced over at some chick who had just waltzed in. He scrunched up his face for a moment. That couldn't be...Renée could it? Well frankly it wasn't all far-fetched, considering this was LeBeau's bar and all. Maybe she would know where Gambit was. He lifted his nose and gave a subtle sniff to confirm her identity before offering her a wry smile.

"Geez Renée, still dressing like jail-bait huh? How old are you now?" Logan chuckled, taking his Molson from the barkeep and tossing back a swig.

Nodding a head towards the bartender, Renée indicated she wanted another shot of her drink of choice, which just happened to be a Kamikaze. She would have one or two more, then cut herself off before she got more than a buzz. As a child, she watched her mother get drunk and do stupid things and constantly fight with her father, and she was bound and determined not to walk in her mother’s footsteps. It wasn’t that she loathed Tayrn or that Tayrn was a bad mother, but she did some things that made it difficult while growing up. Sighing, she glanced over to where her mother would always sit; a corner booth in the shadows and it was almost like she was still there. Renée could almost hear the conversations between her parents and could say without a doubt that despite their tumultuous relationship, the two really did love each other.

“Hnn…”

Returning her attention back to the ‘tender when he brought not just her drink out, but the bottle of booze the other patron had asked for, Renée nodded a thanks and picked up the shot glass. Tossing the liquid back into her throat, she sighed and returned the glass to the countertop before peering over towards the male who smiled at her. If there was any mistake as to whether or not it was Logan, all doubts slipped away at his words. Rolling her eyes, she promptly flipped him off.

“Still grumpy like always, Logan? I’m eighteen now and little Gabrielle is a whopping sixteen-year-old. Why are you back…? Dad isn’t around; hasn’t been since Tayrn’s death. Not like he was around much before that, but who’s keeping track… certainly not his daughters.”

Logan's eyes widened when Renée mentioned Tayrn's death. Partly because it was pretty shocking, but also because of how blase Renée had been in mentioning it. Granted, a child of Remy LeBeau is probably well suited to repressing gloomy emotions, but still...he wasn't really sure to say about that.

"Jesus..." he uttered, taking another swig of his beer as Renée went on. It was clear that Renée was putting on a bit of a tough girl act here. That final comment...about Gambit not being around...she had meant it to try and show a tough exterior, but Logan could still detect a whiff of pain in the sarcasm. Who could really blame her? Growing up a mutant kid was hard enough, but when your parents, who could easily teach you how to live in the crapsack world with your pariah status, didn't have the guts to lay that hard truths of growing up on you...well it was pretty obvious that there was some legitimate resentment there. He considered trying to give her some perspective on the subject, given that his mother had disowned him when he manifested, but Logan suspected it was probably a sore spot that didn't need prodding.

"Professor wants me to keep track of X-Men in the Multiverse, is all." Logan responded. There was obviously more to it than that, but it wasn't the kind of thing to be discussing in public.

"So who's running this place then? I sure hope to hell it isn't you." he said in his gravelly voice, shooting her another shit-eating grin.

The bartender brought her another Kamikaze without her asking and she knew better than to question why. It didn’t take a genius to realize he knew she needed it, so without a word, she drank it down quickly, returning her attention back over towards Logan. She hadn’t spoken about her mother since the woman’s death and it caused a very painful ache to register in her chest. Frowning a little, she tried to push out the memory, but that was a difficult thing to do. Luckily, Logan resumed speaking and it was enough to shift her attention from mourning to curiosity. Why was good ole Chuck asking the Wolverine to keep tabs on the X-Men? It seemed a little fishy, but she knew better than to poke at the subject in such an open place. Instead she merely shrugged before rolling her eyes at his next comment.

“The X-Men or Mutants in general? And no, I’m not running this place. Well, I guess I am for the time being since my sister put on her big girl pants and took it upon herself to go visit some Divine Shadow on Langara. Normally though, Gabrielle is the owner or manager of this place. Dad gave her the key and everything.” She wasn't really jealous of the gesture, mostly because she didn't want the responsibility. Of course, at the time, no one even knew she was alive, so there was that...

"...Little Gabby is running Gambit's Bar?" Logan asked with a legitimately surprised tone in his voice. He quickly chugged back the remainder of his beer and lifted up two fingers to the bartender, who then dutifully retrieved two more Molsons for Logan to enjoy. He took a good long pull on his second Beer as he pondered Renée's words. Gabby was a tough girl alright, but sure Remy had more sense than to hand over the most dangerous place in the Multiverse to his barely-adult kid. Then again...the cajun creep had also run away from his family right after his kids' mother had died. Logan had never been overly fond of Remy, but this kind of horseshit wasn't going to fly. When Logan tracked him down, there would be some serious words exchanged. And by words he meant fists.

"...this is nuts." he muttered, not entirely inaudibly. But then something suddenly clicked. Logan shot up out of his stool and gave Renée a wide-eyed stare.

"Gabby is going to the Aschen homeworld? Is she goddamn crazy?!" Logan shouted, gripping the counter top tightly. There was nothing good about this. Whatever the local space nazis wanted with her, Logan seriously doubted she would be coming out of it unscathed, let alone alive.

“I know, it’s frightening that she’s running the bar, but it seems to be working thus far. She’s got good staff and the security is top-notch.” Shrugging, she stretched out a little, finally pushing the sunglasses that had been covering her red eyes – eyes that matched Remy’s to a tee up on top of her head.

Jerking back a little in surprise at Logan’s sudden movement, Renée was glad that someone else was as concerned as she was about her baby sister going to the Aschen homeworld. She would have stopped the whole thing from happening or would have gone in Gabby’s place, but she missed them leaving by just a few minutes. Sighing, she couldn’t help but start worrying again, hoping that everything was alright. Her sister picked up on the mannerisms of Logan back when she was much younger and if often got her into trouble. But, she had faith in the capabilities of Gabrielle and had to hope for the best.

“Yeah… she’s going to try and work something out with them… apparently an Aschen male was in the bar a while back, hit on a female patron who didn’t appreciate it and then he pulled out a gun and fired on the female. Gab has the right idea, but, it should have been me going instead of her. She has your smart mouth and it always gets her into trouble. I’m sure she’ll be fine though…”

"You've gotta be kidding me...work something out with the Aschen? You don't work things out with them. They tell you what they want or you die." Logan shouted, slamming a fist into the counter top. Dammit! He knew Gabby had taken after his recklessness, but he didn't think that she could muster this kind of utter stupidity. He pointed and accusing finger at Renée, his teeth clenched.

"And you let her go there alone? Your little sister? Remy may be fine showing you that it's easy to abandon your family, but that's not something you learned from me." Logan continued, veins in his neck bulging. He took in a few short breaths and then broke eye contact, his shoulders relaxing and his head drooping to the left. That may have been too much. He pinched the bridge of his nose and massaged it for a moment, his eyes closed. His tone became low and soft.

"I'm sorry Renée, I..." he paused.

"This wasn't how I expected things to go."

Renée narrowed her red eyes towards Logan the minute he accused her of letting Gabrielle go alone. Growling under her breath, she kept her hands directly in front of her, knowing better than to grab an inanimate object. She didn’t really feel like explaining to her sister why a plethora of glasses were suddenly turned into glowing explosives and that generally happened anytime she was angry and grabbed a hold of something. Tightening her jaw, she counted to at least one hundred, not saying a word to his accusations. What the hell did he know anyways? It wasn’t like he had been around lately. No, he left them just like everyone else tended to do.

Even when he apologized, she could feel her anger rising. This was something her mother would have said… and had said in the past. It was always ironic how her mother would blame her for something happening to Gabrielle when the woman was never around to protect the two. Her eyes were starting to glow a little, and she forced in several deep breaths, trying to release them slowly. It was sort of working and she finally managed to say something that she wouldn’t immediately regret.

“I didn’t let her go in alone, Logan. She left without telling me or including me in the conversation. Well, it probably didn’t help that she didn’t find out I wasn’t actually dead until the day she was leaving. She’s got a bodyguard with her though… a cat by the name of Norrington. See… when mom was killed… Gabrielle hired a bodyguard and junk. She wound up finding out where the assassin that killed Tay was at and… went after him. I got there just in time to throw myself in front of her to take the bullets meant for her… I guess I passed out or something because I woke up in a damned coffin.” Frowning at the memory, she closed her eyes a moment before sliding them back open.

“What do you mean this isn’t how you expected things to go…?”

"Forget it." Logan said, tossing a hand up in the air and eying his bottle of beer still on the counter. What he meant was that he hadn't wanted to show up to Remy's place and get immediately into some sort of angry fit. Especially with one of Gambits' daughters. He probably should have known better, considering his track record for this sort of thing.

"Do you know when she's supposed to get back? I want to know the second anyone hears from her, otherwise I'm gonna go find her." Logan said, giving Renée a sidelong glance.

“Fuck forgetting it. You tell me right now scruffy face! You brought it up, now explain yourself! You of all people should know better than that when dealing with me.”

Crossing her arms against her chest, she studied the male silently. There hadn’t been much change with him, and it seemed the two of them picked up right where they left off … arguing about Gabrielle. She couldn’t help but shake her head with a slight smile at the mostly pleasant memories he had immediately brought up the moment she realized who he was. It may not have been the best childhood, but she wouldn’t change most of it for the world.

“Honestly, I have no idea when she’s going to get back. I’m thinking probably pretty soon. She wasn’t planning on staying on Langara longer than necessary. She’ll probably hash out whatever needs to be dealt with and then return back home. If I knew how to get a hold of you, I’d let you know, but yenno, you didn’t bother to leave a number or address. Dick.” Smirking, she stuck her tongue out at him.

"You know where the school is." Logan said softly, taking a long pull on his drink. Despite her adorable little tantrum, Logan wasn't really sure he wanted to level with Renée quite yet. He was glad, though, that Gabby had taken someone with her. He wasn't quite sure how to feel about it being some kind of cat creature, but he trusted Gabby's judgement. It was also abundantly clear that Renée still had some baggage about being perceived as her minder.

"Look. I ain't too keen on running around Terra starting fires in all of my personal relationships. Again. I'm gonna be around the area now and I'd like to get back in touch with you girls..." Logan said, taking out a pretty beat up looking cellphone and tapping at it. Provided there are still two of you at the end of the week. he thought to himself, grimacing slightly. He called up his phone number on the screen and slid it down the bar towards Renée.

"Yeaaaah, you're right, I do. But, the last time I stepped in there, some bad stuff happened. I haven't really wanted to go back since, Logan." Sighing, she leaned against the counter of the bar, realizing that this was probably hard on the both of them. She was more worried about Gabrielle than she wanted to show and knew that if anything happened to her baby sister, she would never forgive herself. Never.

"Alright, Logan... I'd like to get back in touch with you too... and I know Gabrielle misses you immensely. She talks about you a lot... I ... I'm sure she'll be back before we know it..." Frowning a little, she pulled out her own cell and inputted his number so that she had it. She wasn't sure if Gabby's phone could receive anything in a completely different planet, so she would just wait until her sister returned to give his number to her.

"...And Logan, thanks... You were the only one that Gabby and I both knew we could rely on. It's been a hard 10 months... I'm sorry for snapping at you."

"Yeah, well, be proud of yourself kid. I'm not used to talking to people who've gone through tougher shit than me." Logan said with a chuckle. Frankly, it wasn't true in the scope of his entire life, but at least over the past ten months as she had said it was. He'd never really spoken to the girls about his childhood or early life, but then again, that was about one hundred years of history that even he was a little sketchy on remembering.

Still, it didn't sit well with him knowing one of his honorific daughters was getting involved in space politics. He'd sliced open enough Kree and Skrull goons to know where that kind of stuff lead to. Frankly, to him, the Aschen were just a bunch of glorified space pirates, and though he hadn't been in the MV long, he knew enough to hate them. He started on his next beer.

"Any other mutants come by here?" he asked, looking for a legitimate change of subject.

"I doubt I've been through tougher stuff than you, Logan... you're like a billion years old, but thanks..." Smiling, she handed him back his phone and stretched out on the stool, trying to keep from falling over. She was beginning to regret sitting on the hard piece of furniture, but the idea of getting up and moving towards a booth was just too much effort. Plus, she wanted to keep close to the bar in case something happened and she needed to react appropriately. Flopping forward against the counter, she helped herself to the soda machine, filling up a glass of Dr. Pepper. Sitting back, she took a sip and sighed softly.

"Any other mutants? Naw, none that I can think of, but I've just recently been coming back to the bar. Well, I'm sleeping in the back room, but that's besides the point. I should probably pay more attention, hmm? Why, do you know of any nearby? You're still being mighty secretive with me, man."

Mags walks in and sits at a bar stool. She looks at Renee. "Hello. Can I have a shirley temple? If you have it." She digs into her pocket and pulls out a crumpled five dollar bill. "Here you go." She looks at Logan. "'Ello! My name is the Magician. I'm 349.Don't call me old. Beer sucks so I'm not having any, and I'll tell you more later."

Renée glanced over towards the female entering the bar, watching her cautiously before relaxing once it was determined the woman wasn't a threat. However, the moment she addressed Renée to ask for a drink, the eighteen-year-old rolled her eyes and resumed sipping on her Dr. Pepper. After a few minutes of complete silence, she decided to respond to the woman named the Magician or whatever.

"I'm not a bartender, so don't look to me for getting a drink. See that dude, down yonder?" Renée pointed towards the man who was behind the bar and who was making his way towards the group. "That's the bartender. You shouldn't be so assuming." The bartender just shrugged and got the woman's drink, handing it over to her before giving her the proper change.

"Don't like beer? No one is asking you to drink it, but maybe you should keep your opinions to yourself. This is a bar after all and we primarily serve beer."

Logan sat silently as a few Wing City types began to roll into the bar. He had heard about weirdos like these...people that made even mutants like him look normal. He kept silent for a while, nursing his remaining one and a half beers until Renée left, at which point he settled up and walked silently out of the bar.

A moment later the muffled sound of a roaring motorcycle engine shook the glass briefly before fading into the distance...

There came the syncopated sound of a large motorcycle's engine booming just out in the street. It coughed and sputtered for a moment in idle before grumbling to a halt. A moment later, the door to Gambit's opened slowly, a wild haired man walking in, flinty eyes flicking back and forth.

When Logan saw Gabby, however, his normally grave expression softened into a look of relief. With loud footfalls, he strode towards the bar counter, nudging Aiya out of the way as he placed his large hands on the polished wood.

"Gabby...I...Renée didn't tell me. I'm glad you're okay." Logan said with a meek smile. It occurred to him that his presence would come as a rather large shock to the LeBeau girl, but that didn't matter so much to him at the moment. She was family and she was safe; the awkward explanations and passive accusations could wait for now.