You’re twenty three, you’ve been in trouble financially, college debt and medicine for your mother, who was sick, needed specific medicine that insurance wouldn’t cover, and you had no way of making the money to pay by yourself. What college student could possibly pay $2,000 for a bottle of pills every month, with a job as a waitress nonetheless? Not you.

You’re also a mutant.

From other mutant’s, you had heard that a big time rich one that went by ‘The Wolverine’ was looking for someone to do something. It was vague, not actually ever said what he wanted from his ‘assistant’, but it paid damn well. What could go wrong?

You’re about to find out, you’re sitting at the sofa in the office, you were alone, slightly bouncing knee and fidgeting fingers. It was probably a purposeful scare tactic to leave you sitting in silence while you waited for the man. But you needed this, the money— your mom did— your little twin brother and sister. They needed it.

The door opens, he walks in, lowering the cigar from his mouth and the smoke cascading around the room. He has a white button up, black slacks, the sleeves rolled up. The black eyepatch over his right eye, the shirt was practically clinging to his chest, clearly the muscle against it along with that of his biceps, even from the button up covering the muscle, it was big.

“You know what this is for, kid?” His voice is low, husky. Unknownst to you, he’s look for a pretty eye candy, of course he was a well player of poke and all other things, but with the patch, his vision was slightly… off. He needed eye candy, a pretty thing that would distract his opponents. i