Born Cursed

So he knew a lot of people in the fight. Bucky took that in, taking a drag from his own cigarette absently, considering what else he’d said. Lose their trust in him, huh? That was…somewhat concerning. But the next logical question was still why he wasn’t in the fight. Even if those people didn’t trust him, he could’ve still been fighting again the hordes of aliens. It didn’t seem like he was, though, since he hadn’t corrected Bucky or mentioned that he was also in the fight. He ended up just nodding, not willing to pry too much even if he had initiated the question asking. 

It was turned on him, which he probably should have expected, and he let out a breath that was almost a sigh, exhaling the smoke. “I’m in the thick of it.” It was…resigned, more than anything. Not bitter, not yet, at least not today. It was a fight that needed to be fought but some days he was just…tired. Bone deep, achingly tired. “Yeah, I guess I do. More fighters the better, gives us a better shot. But I can’t blame anyone for choosin’ not to.” Bucky didn’t have a choice, not really. Steve was in the middle of this, because of course he was, and he didn’t trust anyone but himself to watch Steve’s back as well as he could. So here he was. The world hanging in the balance was also a pretty big factor and some part of Bucky thought that fighting the good fight like this might help make up for all the bad he’d done. Even so, sometimes he wished he could’ve just stayed in Wakanda. 

The bartender’s scent became more prominent the closer he approached, coaxing the mutant to set his cigarette on the nearby ashtray, a sliver of smoke still evident on the top. He watched with interest as he set Akihiro’s tray of shot glasses in front of him. Akihiro then reached over and took the bartender’s hand, stroking the knuckle gently with his thumb.

He glanced over towards Bucky, though the puffs of smoke clouded some of his vision. An affirmative hum acknowledged the other’s take. Very much like the rest of the people he knew. 

Things with Akihiro were…strange. Strained. They’d moved passed the trying to kill each other phase, which was definite progress, but that stuck Logan in the weird position of being the father of a grown man who didn’t seem to have much need of him. How did you act fatherly in that instance? It wasn’t like Akihiro needed or wanted his advice. Still, Logan felt responsible for him in some way, like he needed to keep at least a bit of an eye on him. In this case, he’d come to talk to him to see why he wasn’t helping with the war effort. No doubt there were a bunch of selfish reasons but hell, they could use all the help they could get and Akihiro could be damn helpful if he wanted to be. So here Logan was, looking him up, though not feeling like he could just tell him to join the war effort but feeling like he needed to make some kind of effort. He was going to need a drink after this. 

The kid (only compared to Logan but he was his kid as awkward as it all was) was with a woman but he no doubt sensed Logan was there so sent her away. Fine. Probably better to have this conversation one on one, anyway. Logan hadn’t exactly been stalking the other man but it was never hard for him to find someone when he set his mind to it. He’d wanted to find Akihiro so here he was. Logan stood with his arms crossed, trying not to seem like the disapproving father but probably coming off that way anyway. At least it had nothing to do with the woman, so that was something? Who knew, this was all basically new territory. 

“Obviously not.” He responded flatly to the sarcasm, blinking only once when Akihiro switched to Japanese but following easily, uncrossing his arms. “You really expect that to stop me? At least tell me your reasons so I can argue against them. I’ve got at least one good one for why you should be in this fight.” 

His lips pulled back into a sneer, arms crossed loosely against his chest upon hearing his father’s(?) chastising. He was well-aware of his particular assertiveness, ‘take no bs’ attitude. He took a nonchalant step back and rolled his eyes. 

“I have other pressing matters to attend to in this area,” he said, pulling out a free hand and mindlessly gesturing towards the backdoor of the bar. Steady breaths deepened through his flaring nostrils, tightening his expression, squaring his shoulders to retain his posture. 

Bucky noticed the picture of two girls on the other man’s lock screen. Just another detail he took in, something his brain told him he could use if he needed to and he filed it away though he really didn’t want any dirt on the other guy. Another habit instilled in him by training. At least now he could choose to just notice it and do nothing with the information, as opposed to before. 

The comment about dealing with worse made Bucky give him a bit of a closer look. “Yeah?” Maybe he would elaborate, maybe he wouldn’t. Bucky was a little curious, though. since it was quite a comment to make. “You know people in the fight?” Not everyone did, he supposed, thought this guy certainly seemed like more than just a civilian with the way he was talking and that last comment was…interesting, to say the least. Who the hell was this guy? 

He listened to the other with a nonchalant hum, tilting his head to the other side from exhale the thick cloud of cigarette smoke between his parted lips. Slipping the stick between two fingers, his gaze did not leave it, even as the person next to him spoke.

“Too many to count,” he said right before the bartender approached the counter with his drink. “Let’s just say I’ve been involved in a few situations that have made people lose their trust in me. I don’t blame them, though. Perhaps that’s why this bar knows me too well.”

There was something going on, if only mild flirtation, between the guy beside him and the bartender but that was just something Bucky noticed. He couldn’t help but notice things, most things, after all his training. In social situations, he thought the old Bucky probably would’ve noticed that too. The old Bucky definitely wouldn’t have noticed all the possible attack points he could use if he needed to incapacitate the bartender, though, or kept a count in the back of his head of everyone in the bar in case he needed to fight his way out. Bucky sort of wished he could stop doing that kind of thing but it was just there now, automatic, so he accepted it. 

Of course the guy beside him talked to him. Well, he was trying to be more social and one on one wasn’t too bad of a way to start in a bar. Besides, he just wanted to bum a smoke anyway so Bucky nodded. “Yeah, sure.” His own cigarette bobbed as he talked and fished out his pack again, shaking one loose to put on the bar in front of the other man. He didn’t seem at all familiar though that didn’t always mean he wasn’t. “Hard not to be on edge these days.” He commiserated, figuring if he was trying to be more social he might as well actually try by initiating further conversation. 

The tip of Akihiro’s fingernail traced along the edges of his device before tapping the screen. Save for the home screen with Laura and Gabby on the front, he didn’t see any pop-up notifications of any sort. His fingers drummed on the counter as careful eyes shifted between the other patron at the bar and the bartender tending to his drink order.

“I’ve dealt with worse long before this ‘war’ even started,” he scoffed, reaching for the loose cigarette in the box presented to him. Fitting it between his lips, he reached into his pocket to pull out his lighter. Flipping the top open, his dark brown gaze followed the small flame until it reached the tip of the aforementioned cigarette.

The evening was going to drag. Every minute he had to listen to Daken making smalltalk with the damn bartender he felt a little more of his patience slip away. Though not at the server, nor even at his former enemy… It was all directed at himself.

He had no business here. He was supposed to be, well, in truth he wasn’t sure. He didn’t trust himself to conduct usual business in Genosha after their last mission. And he worried that if he patrolled alone he’d fall into his ice form and everything would start spiralling back towards the person who’d attacked a teammate without thinking.

So what else was there to do? Sitting here, nursing beers around a man who’s relationship to himself could be described as ‘complex’ to put it mildly, wasn’t smart. But it was better than anything else.

He took another small sip and stared into the froth like it could hold all the answers in the world. Maybe this was why Logan hung out at bars so often, it was the best of no choices.

“Pfft.” he let out the small noise when Daken went on about how his clients didn’t satisfy him. Poor thing not getting fucked how he liked.    

He adjusted the top corners of his open black leather vest, brushing away faint traces of cigarette ashes. The woman in his company adjusted the tip of her stick between her cherry red lips to make contact with the lighter in Akihiro’s free hand. After a few puffs, she pulled back with an affirmative hum.

“Go,” he mumbled without a beat of hesitation, much to the woman’s surprise. She looked up at him to find a softened grin on his expression. An encouraging hand gently tapped her at the hip, towards the open back door of the bar.

“I’ll come back for you.”

The influence of his pheromones provided some calming reassurance for her, but emphasizing his slight urgency. Her heart began to race upon seeing Akihiro turn in the direction of an unfamiliar figure. She immediately dropped her cigarette on the puddle below her feet and rushed back into the bar, shutting the door behind her.

[[ @wolverineascendant​ liked for a starter ! ]]

Middle men were unpredictable and flaky, but most importantly, they were stupid. It was why Anton preferred to work directly with a client - or partner. His line of work tended to be a little too sensitive, at least in his mind, and he didn’t trust any of it to simply be given to someone expendable. It didn’t sit well with him. 

Unfortunately, he had to play nice, if only for this one instance; the client was big, secretive, someone that Anton wanted to eventually press under his thumb, but it grew difficult to do so, so playing their game looked like the right call for now - even if that meant forgoing the comfort of his personal office in favor of a dank and dark motel lobby.

The vomit green paint that was slathered across the four walls peeled and curled like the skin of an orange under the sun, and the room itself smelled of old cigarette ash and sweat. Anton was certain he’d sink into the couch cushion and never resurface if he took a seat, so he opted to stand, straight and silent as he waited for word on the living.

When movement did happen and the dust that had started to settle was disturbed, Anton lifted a curious brow as he surveyed the face of this supposed middle man that made itself known. He hummed before greeting with, “you don’t look like a Paolo.”

The man he encountered on this particular evening was quite the looker, but it was when he foolishly bragged about what he did that opened an opportunity. Reaching for the bottom of his shirt, Akihiro encouraged him to share the information he carried. The other was initially reluctant, but Akihiro had his ways. He uttered a few enticing words, shifting the aforementioned man closer. A sharp intake of breath kept him in his grasp, taking in his scent in generous doses. 

Soon, he’d find the intended location taken from the other’s device, tucking it into the inner pocket of his open black vest. The familiar scent of cigarettes and previous clients thickened the air as he sucked in a deep breath. He made his way through the hallways before finding the door, supposedly the one of the individual the one called ‘Paolo’ was talking about. 

Without a moment’s a hesitation, he hastily shut the door behind him and crossed his arms, quirking a brow at the sight of the man. Narrowed eyelids attempted to make out his features under the dimming lights. One couldn’t deny that he was in the presence of an unknown individual. Man? Mutant? Even as the other commented on him not being ‘Paolo,’ he continued to observe with careful interest.