Not sure what they think they need me for up there. Or maybe I do. In which case I'm not sure yet I want the job. [And of course that's the crux of crankiness. uncertainty.]
I'm really itchin' too. It's... I'm not sure how different any of this is. I know everyone's amped up about it. But. You know what they got me doin' don't you?
The same thing they always have me doin'. [He gestures to his glass until someone comes around to top them off.]
I ain't mad. I get it. What else are they gonna do with me? Put me out to pasture? It's just right there. Top of their rule book. So what does that make me? Krakoa's first state-sanctioned criminal?
[Stretching his arm along the back of their chairs, he makes a show of getting comfortable, but he'll enjoy this personally as much as it's just some kind of put on.]
Mm. What'd they feed you at that spa? You taste like.. jasmine tea. Or kombucha.
Kombucha, ouais. [Said with a smirk before he pulls Logan in to tongue him lazily. He can hear the aggressive scrape of a chair, the sound of approaching boots.]
[So long as he can taste Jean-Paul, Logan could almost forget about the purpose for this little public display of affection. At least until the smell of their interloper interrupts him.
He half turns with an eyebrow already cocked suspiciously.]
You don't look like the server we started with, but if you're checking up on us I'll take another whiskey.
[Jean-Paul looks impishly up at the fellow glaring at them. He knows that Logan is so much more intimidating than he is, but this is one of the occasions where his more delicate features will be an advantage: homophobes love to hit the fairy boys.]
Or did you want to join us, cutie?
[He slides off of Logan and around behind their new friend before the guy can finish throwing the punch. Which means it hits Logan, naturally.]
[He's not the only one who enjoys being antagonistic. And if he enjoys watching Jean-Paul start some shit, it's probably because the man is as good at it as he is.
What he's not expecting is their easy target to attempt a swing quite so quickly. When those knuckles his nose the dram of whiskey in his gasp sloshes across the table top.]
Are you fuckin' kidding me?
[He sniffles and smells the blood in his nose but whatever ruptured isn't enough to spot any trace of it when he touches his face and checks his hand.]
I thought I'd be a little drunk before I hurt somebody tonight. Too bad for you. My aim is better when I ain't tipsy.
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You say that like I got to pick. Not that I got a lotta complaints.
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So. Tell me something fun you've done lately.
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Fun? This. This right here is the most fun I've had since we settled there. If you can call it settled.
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[Jean-Paul rolls his eyes.] Chrisse, FINE. No wonder you need to hit someone.
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I'm really itchin' too.
It's... I'm not sure how different any of this is. I know everyone's amped up about it. But. You know what they got me doin' don't you?
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[He gestures to his glass until someone comes around to top them off.]
I ain't mad. I get it. What else are they gonna do with me? Put me out to pasture? It's just right there. Top of their rule book. So what does that make me? Krakoa's first state-sanctioned criminal?
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Tell it to the council the day they put me trial, I guess.
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I coulda walked away.
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Listen, I got all the faith in the world that you'd give it a shot. All right?
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Hey. Make out wit' me.
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Good eye. But shove over. I'm not leaning across the table like some Rockwell malt shop moment.
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Mm. What'd they feed you at that spa? You taste like.. jasmine tea. Or kombucha.
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He half turns with an eyebrow already cocked suspiciously.]
You don't look like the server we started with, but if you're checking up on us I'll take another whiskey.
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Or did you want to join us, cutie?
[He slides off of Logan and around behind their new friend before the guy can finish throwing the punch. Which means it hits Logan, naturally.]
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What he's not expecting is their easy target to attempt a swing quite so quickly. When those knuckles his nose the dram of whiskey in his gasp sloshes across the table top.]
Are you fuckin' kidding me?
[He sniffles and smells the blood in his nose but whatever ruptured isn't enough to spot any trace of it when he touches his face and checks his hand.]
I thought I'd be a little drunk before I hurt somebody tonight. Too bad for you. My aim is better when I ain't tipsy.
[With a short, sharp jab he returns the favour.]
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