"Thank you," clearly feeling out of place, the girl nevertheless readily grabbed the sandwich and hurried to take a bite.
"Ellis Island, once the arrival point for thousands of immigrants to our shores, is opening its doors once again," the announcer's voice began to broadcast on the TV as soon as a music video ended.
"Preparations for the United Nations summit are practically complete, and since nearly all invitees have confirmed their attendance, this summit promises to be the most representative in history. Leaders from over two hundred nations will discuss a wide range of issues, including the state of the global economy, arms treaties, and the phenomenon of mutation and its impact on our lives. Many American lawmakers continue to insist that the discussion of the mutant question remain center stage…"
I was about to make a joke about how that desire was very logical, considering the information that about fifty state-of-the-art missile systems with radioactive warheads (the very ones Stark built his first mini arc reactor from, and later destroyed as Iron Man) had leaked from their warehouses into terrorist hands, but I didn't have time.
Two men approached the peacefully beer-sipping Wolverine from behind. I recognized one as the hulk from yesterday who'd taken a good hit to the head from Logan. The hematoma was impressive and very colorful.
"You owe me," the injured man said, touching Wolverine on the shoulder to get his attention.
"Don't do it," the second guest tried to reason with him in a half-whisper, attempting to pull him back, but the shaved-headed guy brushed him off without looking.
"No human could take a hit like that," the failed fighter continued to press, his voice slightly louder but still calm. Logan graced him with a brief glance and turned away, taking another drag of his cigar.
"Don't, let's go," the second man tried again to lead his friend away from the bar.
"I know what you are!" Brushing him off again, the shaved guy leaned into the mutant's ear. "You're a, "
"You lost your money," Wolverine interrupted coldly, irritation reflecting on his face. "So get lost!"
Washing down my sandwich with the hot drink, I watched with great interest to see what would happen next.
Part of me hoped canon would go up in flames, but the other part no longer believed it, there had been too many coincidences back in Asgard to hope for unpredictability in this world.
And that part was right.
Gritting his teeth, the victim of yesterday's fight took a step back, but only to pull out a knife and try to shove it under Logan's ribs.
"Look out!" Rogue shrieked frantically, having also been watching the conflict unfold with wide eyes.
Wolverine immediately dodged sideways, letting the hand with the knife pass him by, but he couldn't restrain himself after that.
If he had just slapped the guy and grabbed the unlucky assassin by the lapels, everything would have been fine.
But his temper failed him.
Besides pinning the attacker against the nearest vertical beam supporting the second floor, the mutant popped his claws, pointing them threateningly at the victim's throat.
"Hey," I called out to the bartender, who had frantically pulled a pump-action shotgun from under the counter. "Don't turn my breakfast into a vulgar shootout. The guy asked for it."
"You with him?" The barrel was instantly pointed at my face, causing Rogue sitting next to me to pale sharply. "Come on, get the hell out of here!" This was addressed to both me and Wolverine.
"How rude." A smirk climbed onto my face on its own. Loki responded to all of fate's blows with a smirk, and I couldn't do anything about his reflexes yet. "And here I was about to leave a tip."
A brief gesture with my fingers activated the spell.
The illusion settled like a glove, and the man saw the shotgun in his hands transform into a snake.
A scream from one of the female customers coincided with him throwing the reptile away.
The terrified man recoiled, crashing back-first into the shelves of bottles. The snake fell to the floor and hissed threateningly at its recent owner.
People in the hall froze, looking warily at Logan and me, afraid to move a muscle.
"Why?" Wolverine's sharp gaze bored into my face.
"I don't like having weapons poked at me." I shrugged. "Besides, breakfast is ruined anyway." I stood up, knocking back the last drops of my coffee.
"You wouldn't happen to be heading to the next town, would you? Give me a lift? I'm afraid it'll be rather difficult for me to find a travel companion now." I cast a suggestive glance at the terrified patrons.
"A dandy like you doesn't have his own wheels?" Wolverine growled, still baring his teeth in irritation, his claws not moving an inch from the shaved guy's neck.
"Getting a driver's license was remarkably difficult in my village," I replied with a conspiratorial air, dramatically adjusting the lapels of my coat.
"Grrr," the mutant grunted shortly. Either he accepted the answer, or he decided I was hinting that I didn't want to discuss details in front of strangers.
Either way, his claws retracted into his fist with a sharp snikt. Shooting a hateful glare at the man who had tried to knife him, Logan grabbed his half-finished bottle from the counter and headed for the exit.
"Don't fall behind," he threw over his shoulder as he passed.
I offered a playful wink to Rogue, who was frozen in shock, tipped my imaginary hat to the other customers, and followed him.
At that moment, a middle-aged waitress emerged from the kitchen carrying a plate with three fresh sandwiches, my second order.
Seeing the snake at her boss's feet, she froze, struck dumb with horror.
"You look enchanting," I told the service worker with a dazzling smile as I breezed past, deftly plucking the plate from her hands without breaking stride.
Logan, walking ahead, shot me a brief glance that clearly read: I do not approve of this behavior.
"What? I paid for them," I shrugged carelessly, forcing him to turn away.
A moment later, I was sitting in the cab of a battered truck, some kind of camper van hybrid.
Looking in the side mirror, I spotted a thin figure in a green hooded coat and a huge bag scurrying toward us.
Logan, now behind the wheel, was clearly too irritated to notice the commotion in the parking lot.
Meanwhile, the girl reached the trailer hitched to the back and climbed inside.
Risky little lady. I was sure right up until the last second that she was going to knock on the cab door.