(closed) may catch-all

[bigbaddy]

Who: Bigby (bigbaddy), Billy (notarat) and various other people.
What: A collection of various non-event things for May!
When: During all of May.
Where: Around Milton.

Content Warnings: Discussion of murder, discussion of homophobia, drinking, smoking

( I'm putting down some closed starters in this log, but if you also want a closed starter or want to do something with either of them outside of the event, just let me know and I'll gladly throw up a starter! Contact me either through a PM to my journals or over on Plurk at queeningsquare. )

Comments

[bigbaddy]

.. yeah, fine. Clearly.

Granted, Bigby would be a hypocrite if he said anything about that. Because he knows he'd be doing the exact damn thing if he were in Logan's shoes. Play it off, even if the bruises are visible. There are some people he might still have nagged to when it came to this, but.. well, Logan seems like a tough enough guy. And if he really started that brawl, then maybe it'll serve as a lesson for him once he's all healed up sooner or later.

Not to mention there's something else he can't help but focus on. It's that movement of Logan's nose. Most people wouldn't think anything of it, but to Bigby that sort of thing is highly familiar.

"Were you trying to smell me?"

Just.. a very normal question to ask someone. Yet Bigby says it so casually, like it's not that big of a deal to him. Maybe there's just the tiniest hint of surprise in it, since he isn't really used to people doing that to him - it's usually the other way around.

It makes him be the one to raise an eyebrow this time around. "You know that shit isn't working in this place, right?" He can't imagine someone else keeping their senses when he lost his, anyway.

[lasttoolong]

It's not so surprising that the other guy picked up on it. It's interesting that he not only recognised it, but thought to offer a warning -- as though he knows what it's like. Logan looks over at him for a beat, studying anew those broad shoulders, the hint of something familiar in his mannerisms that makes Logan feel, absurdly, at ease.

"Don't have to tell me twice, bub," he grouses after a moment, picking up the coffee and the coffee pot and carrying them over to the squat woodfired stove in the corner, cigar propped between two fingers of his hand. There's a deep sink and thankfully the pipes haven't frozen or burst yet, so he starts the water running, ignoring the way it rattles and grumbles out of the faucet.

"Feels like I'm walking around with my head stuffed with goddamn cotton wool," he continues as he separates the halves of the coffee pot and fills the lower with water. He sticks his stogie back in his mouth and glances back over a the new guy. "So what are you? Assume you're something, since you've got the balls to come looking for me."

[bigbaddy]

"You mean aside from a guy who kept the other guy from kicking you while you were down?"

Just saying. Bigby is pretty sure that it's not the real question Logan is asking here when he says that, but apparently he can't fully resist being a smartass all the same.

Thankfully he doesn't leave it at that. He doesn't move along with the other, just stands there as he watches Logan fiddle with the coffee pot, Bigby's arms folded across his chest. His body language isn't too rigid, like Bigby isn't on his guard here. Hell, if anything, what the other man is saying about his senses only makes him more relaxed. It's not often that he finds a kindred spirit in this sense. Especially one that isn't related to him.

"I'm a wolf," he simply answers. "Usually, anyway. Ever since I showed up in this place, I'm stuck like this. Can't smell shit, can't hear shit. Like you said-- head full of wool."

Bigby gestures a little in the air next to his head with one hand, before leaning back against the wall.

"I can't even transform. Dunno what you are, but I'm pretty sure you can't be human either if you're feeling like your senses are clogged. I've never heard a single one of the humans around here complaining about that." Other than the brief period of time with those mushrooms that made people who eat them grow blind-- but Bigby knows that's different.

[lasttoolong]

Smartass or not, it's the kind of ribbing Logan's used to and he doesn't do more than grunt his response to the jab as he goes about making coffee. After a bit of hunting in the cupboards, he finds some enamel cups and sets them on the table while Bigby's talking, making a point of it -- two, so he's been invited to stay, whether he likes it or not.

"A wolf," he repeats, not all that surprised. That brings his total count of wolves and wolf-like beings to three, at least.

"I'm a mutant," Logan supplies, going back to the stove to watch the coffee pot. "An evolved form of humanity. I have.. abilities." A grimace; he's always felt kind of stupid describing himself like this, like it means he should have a cape and a logo. "Or at least I did have, before I ended up in this goddamn town with the rest of you."

Taking a drag on his cigar, he glances over to look at Bigby through an exhalation of smoke.

"So you used to turn into a wolf during the full moon? Or whenever you got mad? How does that work?"

[bigbaddy]

.. huh.

Honestly, Bigby is more surprised by the fact the other bothers to take out two cups than he is by the entire mutant talk. It's not a term he's heard of before, sure, but the name coupled with Logan's explanation gives Bigby a pretty good idea of what the other's deal is. A deal that seems almost mundane compared to some of the stuff he's used to seeing back home, so-- really, the fact Logan is alright with him hanging around to talk is way more surprising than that. Especially for a guy who isn't exactly used to getting any kind of warm reception.

"Other way around," he answers when the other guy turns to ask about Bigby's own deal instead. "I'm a wolf and I turn into a human. Me being stuck like this gives off the wrong idea."

So he gets why Logan would assume that, really. Even though Bigby must admit he's spent way more time in this human form than he has in his wolf form for centuries now. It's the downside of living in New York City, really - not exactly a place with a lot of room for a huge wolf to run around.

"I had to start living among humans for a reason that's-- well, that's just way too fucking long of a story to tell, trust me." He shakes his head. "Let's just say I had to, and so I had to accept someone stabbing me with a cursed knife that gave me lycanthropy so I could look like a human among other humans. Y'know, kind of like-- opposite lycanthropy or whatever. But I still got to keep my senses even when I'm in this form."

He sighs. ".. until now, anyway. Same deal as you there."