snikting | 1 - [Action]

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1 - [Action]

[It was like blacking out. One minute he was boarding a chopper with Nick Fury, detailing his plan for dealing with Apocalypse, the next moment he had passed out. Now he was waking up groggily in a dark place. It was small, confined, and it smelled like a person he was reasonably sure he was going to not end up liking. After trying to bang his way out, eventually his claws slide out of his wrists and he tears the door down. Bursting out from the closet is a hairy, angry man with a set of three razor sharp claws on both hands. He's pissed and he wants answers. Hi Tony.]

[After getting his answers from Stark, Logan was out on the town. His first job was taking care of his clothes. He found some stuff that fit soon enough, as well as his uniform. He slipped that one first, then a jacket over top of that. After what he'd heard, it was better to be prepared. His next step was tracking down his team. He didn't need directions for them. His nose was keen enough that he could smell them in the air. So he spends his time tracking them down, one by one, to wherever they currently were. At their home or elsewhere. That takes up most of his day, taking in all the information and making plans for their next move. If any.

By the day ends, Wolverine is in a bad mood and makes his way to where heard the bar was. Ordering his drink is more like snarling that he wanted a beer. He's not in the mood to talk and he spends most of his time at the bar scowling. Stuck in Luceti? No way to get out? Fate of the world in the balance? There's not enough booze in Luceti to make him happy.

People can catch him at the bar, or earlier in the day after he's found his uniform. He'll be exploring the place and stop a lot to start sniffing at the air, as if he's looking for something. For the most part his claws will be retracted unless someone threatens him. He's also 5'3. Comment on his height at your own peril.]

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[She shrugged, the side of her mouth tweaking up.]

It catches on after a bit.

So does the flu. [Not that Wolverine ever gets sick...] So if you're here, where's Kitty?

Probably back at the house, if she ain't at school.

[Shockingly, Rogue does not attend!]

...she ain't the only one from our world left here.

[School? He's about to ask about the 'house', but that's less concerning than that other nugget of information. His voice gains an edge to it. Not quite growling, but close. If there's someone here that's not with the X-Men, he's going to guess it's not someone pleasant.

Unless it's:]

Is he big, green and ugly?

What makes you say that?

[You mentioned you'd been in a tussle with Hulk already, but... same world?]

Just wanted to be sure. [Even Hulk said they weren't from the same world. But hell, maybe they survived Apocalypse and lived long enough to piss off the green giant.]

It's Gambit.

[Best just get it out there.

...she hopes whatever talk she had with Logan on the Blackbird was a good one.]

Gambit? [He directs his attention to the door, teeth gritted and looking like any second his claws might pop out so he can go find the cajun and skewer him.] Has he done anything?

[...guess it wasn't that good of a talk.]

Yeah. [She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.] He helped save my life.

[He fixes her a look that just demands an explanation.]

We were on a draft.

[She can meet Logan's eyes with that one, unlike with Scott... he'll understand.]

There was a cave in. I made the wrong call - tried ta run through instead of back - Tony got me out of the way, but I didn't get completely clear. Gambit helped get me from under the rock, saw me through gettin' healed up.

[Draft? Cave in? There's a whole hell of a lot that's happened and it doesn't sit well with him. But if this is true- and he believes her, then he'll drop the Gambit matter for now.]

Draft? They sent you into a war?

[...that does make her look down.]

They take anyone - it's all random. Kids, folks who can't fight -- anyone.

What kind of cowards since kids and civilians out into battle? [At least he knows Rogue is well trained. He sure as hell wouldn't send her into a war if he could help it, but at least he knows she could manage it.]

The kind that wanna reinforce just how few damns they actually give.

[She sighs a little.]

The official line is that anyone who's "Shift compatible" goes through - anyone who can leave the barrier an' still be able to fight gets sent. It used ta be 'volunteer,' but... infighting. Hawks won.

I take it that refusing doesn't end too well for you either.

Droids. It's like somethin' out of a bad Sci Fi movie, they'll take you an' drag ya to their teleporter.

And they ain't too easy to take down either. [He guesses.]

Nope. [She glances away.] Or escape. Kurt tried, when he was here, but...

[She shook her head.]

[Elf's not an easy one to catch, when he sets his mind to it. But. He can be reckless too.]

Didn't go so well. Anything else?

Monthly experiments. Not the 'take you and cut you up' kind, though sometimes the droids round up villagers for "rogue experimentation," but the kind that messes with your head. Usually lasts 'bout a week. Wears off on its own.

Like my head ain't messed up enough already. [Some grumbling. Or growling. Low and to himself. Any kind of experimentation is a quick way to piss him off.]

[She pretends she didn't hear that.]

The ones in charge now run 'missions.' Ya can earn points for doin' work for 'em outside of the boundary.

[And that pretty much covers everything. Oh, except one last thing...]

What kind of mission we talking about here? [The idea of working for them is insane, but useful.]

Guardin' duty, combat duty, research, medical assistance, even 'voluntary experimentation.' They've got one where they just watch you fight the whole time too, I don't even know what ta call that one.

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