Welcome to the Hellfire Saloon

Hellfire Saloon

The Town of Excelsior, Arizona

The Hellfire Saloon was lively as ever, full of people enjoying their drinks, gambling, or spending their time with the lovely ladies of the saloon. Logan, for his part, sat quietly, nursing a whiskey and smoking a cigar. At that moment, he had no interest in conversation, card games, or women. All he wanted was a moment's respite before taking up a new bounty.

Unfortunately, he wasn't able to enjoy any kind of solitude, which was often the case for him; Logan's reputation preceded him wherever he went, and it was common that other men would challenge him, hoping to improve their own reputations. It never ended well for the challengers, who usually left the encounters with serious wounds to both their bodies and pride. This interruption, however, wasn't a challenge -- rather, it was a tap on the shoulder from an old colleague.

"I thought I told you never to show your face in here again," Emma Frost said, her eyebrow raised curiously. "You know you're bad for business."

Logan grunted in annoyance at Emma's arrival. "Blame your idiot customers, not me. I didn't come here lookin' for a fight -- they took the first swing, not me."

"And yet, it seems like fights always break out whenever you're here," Emma noted. "I don't care who started it, you're the common factor. Wherever you go, chaos follows... and we both know you're not blameless for that, Logan. I know your past."

"Can't argue that," Logan shrugged, taking a drag of his cigar. "Tell you what -- if someone takes a swing at me, I'll be as gentle as possible. Won't leave any serious scars."

"I guess that's as much as I can hope for," Emma acquiesced. "So, what brings you to my fine establishment today? Come to drink and wallow in self-pity?"

"As usual," Logan replied. "Just finished a job, and all I want is to drink without bein' bothered."

Emma smirked and sat down next to Logan. "Come on, hon. You know that wasn't going to happen here, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did," Logan muttered, sipping his whiskey. "But a man can hope."

"Ah, Logan. Ever the optimist," Emma jabbed. "You're always such a ray of sunshine."

Logan grunted dismissively, clearly not amused. "So, how 'bout you, Emma? Business still good?"

"The Frost Company is thriving, thank you very much," Emma answered proudly. "We've recently struck a partnership with Stark Industries that should prove to be quite lucrative."

Stark Industries. Logan knew that name well. No, he'd never met Tony Stark, the charming, cocksure businessman who'd taken the Stark Firearms company and turned it into a veritable empire, but he'd been shot so many times by their revolvers that he couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity.

"Huh. Good on ya," Logan answered nonchalantly. "And what's been goin' on around Excelsior these days?"

Emma sighed. "I swear, you're impossible to have a conversation with. Anyway, the most interesting news in town has been about the Xavier Ranch. Lots of new folk working there. Stay in Excelsior long enough and you'll see 'em around town."

"Huh. So Hill wasn't bullshittin' me," Logan said. "You ever met the Xavier guy?"

"Oh, yes. I have had plenty of dealings with Xavier," Emma said. "You know, he's asked about you before -- he seemed very interested in meeting you. You should pay him a visit -- it would likely be a very profitable arrangement for you."

"I bet it would. But I don't see what use someone like Charles Xavier would have for someone like me--" Logan started, but he was interrupted by the sounds of a commotion outside.

Emma's face hardened as she heard the clamor. "Damn it. Can't I ever spend one day in this saloon without having to deal with some sort of headache?"

"'Least it wasn't me this time," Logan deadpanned.

"You are correct. Thank you for not making my day any more aggravating," Emma retorted, clearly irritated. "Well, I have to go put out another fire. Are you coming or not?"