The thought of his wallet melting from hellspawn blood makes Logan snort, one eye opening to peer Hellboy's way. "I keep my wallet in my back pocket."
Good thing, too, because when the feeling in his chest returns and he realises he isn't melting any more, the front of Logan's trousers have pretty much gone to shit. Quite a few inches off the hem have melted off, and the ends where they stopped are charred as if they'd been burned with fire.
He sits up, then reaches behind him to where the back portion of his jeans are sagging downward in an open flap with nothing up front to support them. True to form, his wallet's safe and sound, though he imagines being wet'll probably work wonders for the old leather.
"Heads up," he says, tossing it Hellboy's way. He pulls his ruined jeans off and stands there in boxer shorts, though takes note of how the upper part of the garter up front have the same terrible, burnt edges on them. "There should be, uh... eighty dollars in there? Whatever." And clearly he isn't too concerned with Hellboy just taking the cash and bolting. There're some pictures in there too and a points cards for groceries and all, but nothing for credit.
Logan's jeans are just as wrecked as the shop, so he dumps them in a trash bin, may they rest in peace. Then he walks over. In his boxers and his boots.
"Is there a bar without the 'no shirt, no shoes, no service' mantra?"
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Good thing, too, because when the feeling in his chest returns and he realises he isn't melting any more, the front of Logan's trousers have pretty much gone to shit. Quite a few inches off the hem have melted off, and the ends where they stopped are charred as if they'd been burned with fire.
He sits up, then reaches behind him to where the back portion of his jeans are sagging downward in an open flap with nothing up front to support them. True to form, his wallet's safe and sound, though he imagines being wet'll probably work wonders for the old leather.
"Heads up," he says, tossing it Hellboy's way. He pulls his ruined jeans off and stands there in boxer shorts, though takes note of how the upper part of the garter up front have the same terrible, burnt edges on them. "There should be, uh... eighty dollars in there? Whatever." And clearly he isn't too concerned with Hellboy just taking the cash and bolting. There're some pictures in there too and a points cards for groceries and all, but nothing for credit.
Logan's jeans are just as wrecked as the shop, so he dumps them in a trash bin, may they rest in peace. Then he walks over. In his boxers and his boots.
"Is there a bar without the 'no shirt, no shoes, no service' mantra?"