This whole place was bullshit. Logan has been in various versions of hell over the last two hundred years but this one ranks pretty high. There's no phones, no way out and apparently he's been rigged up to some kind of choke collar to keep him in line. He'd tested it earlier and found out that trying to take it off meant it just got tighter and the only way to loosen the fucking thing was to go find a woman to take to bed.
Yeah.
He's not so much a fan of performing under pressure and the fact that his claws have been neutered doesn't really appeal to him either. He's gotten so used to being what he is, knowing that death is nigh impossible and that he can take most of what's thrown at him that he's gotten reckless and careless. What does it matter? He can't die. He's going to outlive everyone and everything he cares about. And now he's here with that taken from him and replaced with a shackle around his goddamn neck.
This party only has one thing going for it and that's plenty of booze. He's got a bottle of wine and while he wishes it was rye whiskey, he'll take it. The women here are stunning and he's not shy about looking, eyes tracing their forms as he downs shot after shot. Maybe ouzo isn't meant to be drunk in shots but he does it anyway, trying his damndest to get to bleary-eyed wasted before the night's out.
logan howlett | x-men
This whole place was bullshit. Logan has been in various versions of hell over the last two hundred years but this one ranks pretty high. There's no phones, no way out and apparently he's been rigged up to some kind of choke collar to keep him in line. He'd tested it earlier and found out that trying to take it off meant it just got tighter and the only way to loosen the fucking thing was to go find a woman to take to bed.
Yeah.
He's not so much a fan of performing under pressure and the fact that his claws have been neutered doesn't really appeal to him either. He's gotten so used to being what he is, knowing that death is nigh impossible and that he can take most of what's thrown at him that he's gotten reckless and careless. What does it matter? He can't die. He's going to outlive everyone and everything he cares about. And now he's here with that taken from him and replaced with a shackle around his goddamn neck.
This party only has one thing going for it and that's plenty of booze. He's got a bottle of wine and while he wishes it was rye whiskey, he'll take it. The women here are stunning and he's not shy about looking, eyes tracing their forms as he downs shot after shot. Maybe ouzo isn't meant to be drunk in shots but he does it anyway, trying his damndest to get to bleary-eyed wasted before the night's out.