12335/Cabin in the Woods

Cabin in the Woods
Date of Scene:	13 October 2020
Location:	Logan's Cabin - Breakstone Lake
Synopsis:	Ororo and Logan enjoy some Canadian Whiskey after their first encounter with the Phoenix.
Cast of Characters:	Storm, Wolverine

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Storm has posed:
Yesterday had been very tasking on all of them, none moreso than Jean and Logan, in Ororo's opinion. Having seen Jean to bed, the Weather Witch couldn't sleep and so decided to check up on Logan. Having seen the look in Logan's eyes when they realized everything was okay with Jean. Logan may not wear his heart on his sleeve, but she'd known him for years now and knew when he was shaken.

    Having stopped off at the grocery store, she landed in the clearing in front of the feral's cabin and walked towards the front door and knocked. When answered, Ro would smile and held out a bottle of Canadian whiskey for him. She'd made a special trip up north for just this. "I also brought you an Acadian Meat Pie and Maple Snow Candy for me." Yes, she did fly to Canada to get him some possible comfort food. It was always a good thing to have a friend who could fly.

    Ro always loved Logan's Cabin. It was cozy and far from the crush of the rest of the world. Shuffling through the paper bag and coming up with a small paper bag as she claimed one of the kitchen chairs for herself. Taking out one of the sticked candies. "Pour me a glass?" Asked softly.

Wolverine has posed:
When the silence inside the cabin is interrupted by the sound of knocking at the door, it is followed by more momentary silence. Then the steady, heavy thuds of the man's footsteps across the floor boards. The planks bend beneath the weight of his adamantium-laced bones until he reaches the door and tugs it open. He knew who was waiting on the other side before he even got up from his chair at the table inside.

"'Ro," Logan's voice rumbles as he opens the door to see her standing there. His eyes fall from hers to the bottle of whiskey held out for him. The corner of his lips curve into a slight grin as he reaches out to take her offering. "Hot damn," he says as his eyes shift back up to her face. Stepping aside, he gives her room to enter his domain, "Come on in, darlin'."

Once she enters, he closes the door and follows her in, returning to the chair he was in before. On the table is an empty bottle that is still damp inside and a few tumblers, one of which shows signs of recent use as well. Looks like he's been drinking already and is fresh out. "You've got some damn fine timin'." He opens the bottle and pours a glass then slides it over to Ororo before refilling his own. He lifts his glass in her direction.

Storm has posed:
    Ororo never rushed ther feral man, knowing quite well that there were few that could match his stubbornness. If he didn't want company, he wouldn't open the door. Smiling at the sight of him and nodding as she was invited in. Easy to identify the Weather Witch, since she has a very unique scent of clean ozone just before a storm rolling in.

    She also doesn't press if he's okay or if he needed anything. Taciturn damn near had a picture of him in the dictionary. "I do what I can." Chuckling softly and lifting the tumbler slid her way. Saluting him with the glass and taking a sip of the amber liquid. She didn't have his metabolism or ability to filter alcohol, so she drank much slower. Taking a bite out of the frozen maple sap and making a pleased sound before holding one out to him. "It's not as sweet as I thought it would be. Still, very good." Apparently, Logan was being given a Canadian Goodie Bag.

    Closing her eyes and taking a breath before smiling softly. Sometimes, Ro would come out here to enjoy the peace and quiet and sometimes she would talk. Logan didn't push and neither did she and she loved him for it. Another sip taken. "I think I understand your love of the north, now." She had been touched by the sight of forests stretching out almost endlessly. "I shall have to take you to see Kenya, one of these days."

Wolverine has posed:
Ororo is one of the few people in this world that Logan has known for a long time and has a mutual understanding with. Maybe moreso than with anyone else. She may be the only person he's actually willing to be with after recent events. He might even be glad she's there, not that he would say so or even remotely show in his behavior. The invitation inside and the lift of the glass to share a drink speaks volumes.

The scent of the whiskey has his mouth salivating but since this is now his last bottle, he takes a slow sip and enjoys it for a moment before swallowing. Taking the sap once it's offered, he lets that flavor marinate in his mouth as well, his eyes closing for a moment. The scent and the taste fill his mind with memories of his years spent in the wilderness. "It's one helluva place," he says, his eyes opening and falling upon the woman at his table. "Keep meaning to go back sometime," he says and looks down at his drink. It occurs to him that this might be as good a time as any to disappear into the Canadian forest for a few weeks. Get back to his roots. Deal with things. The mention of traveling to Kenya brings his attention back to Ororo. "Deal."

Storm has posed:
    "I have always secretly wished to go with you on one of your adventures." She admitted with mirth dancing in those clear blue eyes." No, Ro wasn't psychic but she knew Logan and she knew that sometimes everything became too much and he felt most comfortable surrounded by wilderness. "I remember when I was a girl, the African Wilds could soothe any discord of my mind. Hearing the lowing of lions and the buzz of locust." Her eyes closed and a feint smile on her lips.

    Her eyes opened and she had the grace to blush as she looked out the window his table was beside. "You would enjoy it, I think. The tribal nations live completely in harmony with the land. It is a slower life, but rich in ways that I think few could understand." It had been until she'd been named a Goddess. Few of her X-Men allies knew that in the Dark Continent that Ro was worshipped for her power over the weather.

    "I have always wished to see a river teaming with salmon swimming for where they were born. I read that you could reach into the water a hundred times and never come up with empty hands."

Wolverine has posed:
Logan has thought about Ororo's native land many times since meeting her and it has occured to him time and time again that he would probably find it similar to his old home. Maybe not in terms of the wildlife and scenery, but almost certainly in terms of connection with the natural world. Running with the animals, living off the land, communing with everything around him. "More I think about it the more appealin' it sounds."

He looks across the table at the Godess and manages a feral smile, the tips of his canines poking between his lips only just. "Nothin' like fresh salmon. Take me to Kenya sometime an' I'll treat you to all the fresh Canadian fish you could shake a stick at."

With that, he raises his glass again and takes a longer sip, letting the liquid burn the inside of his cheeks for a few moments before swallowing it down with a satisfied 'ahh.' He eyes a half-smoked cigar resting in an ashtray on the table and considers it.

Storm has posed:
    "There is no place on Earth like Africa. Not that I have found, though I fear I may be biased." Rich colors and billowing dresses and beautiful jewelry hewn from the earth. Everything felt more pure there.

    She returned the smile, though hers is a little less intimidating. She didn't judge Logan for his mutation and how it made him appear more animal in some aspects. Just like she was certain he did not mind her own. "It is a good thing I eat fish." It was no secret that Ro didn't eat meat, and she ate fish very rarely. Taking a sip of her whiskey before she reached into the bag and presented Logan with a second bottle and a wry smile. "You know it does not bother me." Said in regards to his cigar.

    "Come...let us watch the stars while we drink." Standing and holding her hand out to him to try to entice him outside, though knowing he likely needed none.

Wolverine has posed:
The second bottle of whiskey draws a genuine smile from the man, something he rarely exhibits around others. His eyes shift from the bottle to the woman who brought it, the softness that has spread across his features almost shedding a few years from his face. "They're right. You are a Goddess."

With a wink, Logan pushes away from the table, the wooden legs of the chair grinding over the wooden planks and sending a dull whine throughout the cabin. Standing, he takes the first bottle and grabs his tumbler and the cigar. He reaches out and takes her by the hand and walks to the door at the back of the cabin. He nudges it open to reveal the darkness outside and the moonlit water of the lake behind his cabin. The large trees that skirt the edges of the lake rise like black spires. It's about as close to his home as it can get and it's likely easy to see why he spends so much time here.

Stepping out into the cool grass, he lets the blades slip in between his toes. He stuffs his cigar into his mouth and bites down as he fishes for a lighter. "I spend most nights out here. Can't beat the view, eh?" The question is followed by a sideways glance at the taller woman beside him.

Storm has posed:
    Ororo laughs when he calls her a Goddess and walks out to the back porch with him, making sure to grab the little baggie of candy and her own tumbler. Her eyes close as she takes in the night air. "A rain storm is building." Though, it is likely Logan can smell it as neatly as she can sense it.

    She is quick to toe off her own sandals and steps out onto the grass alongside him. Ro has a connection with nature beyond simple weather. Logan being one of the few that knows something of the mystical aspects she possesses. "I do not blame you. There is a peace found so far away from people. The sounds of day and night that acts a balm to frayed nerves." Taking a sip of her whiskey as she walks towards the lake with slow, even steps. "You have an eye for the wilds that none can match. Yet I will appreciate the sharing of the view as always I do." Smiling back at him as she went so far as to walk out into the water before sitting on the damp moss. "The water looks much like glass." A playful wind skates across the lake, sending ripples that can be traced far on the still lake.

Wolverine has posed:
He can smell the approaching clouds, but it doesn't linger in his mind. If it rains he doesn't mind. Even if he did, he's with someone who could take care of it. The thought makes him idly wonder what sort of weather he'd have follow him around if he had her powers. Her voice brings him back.

He looks down as her sandals come off and follows her to the water's edge. The air is cool and crisp, as is the lake, but he's never cared about the cold. He loves it. Stepping into the lapping lake's boundary, he lowers himself down into the wet moss as well and rests his arms over his bent knees. The seat of his jeans soak in the water and send a chill up his back that he doesn't mind. "You should see it during a full moon." He glances over at her and hoists his glass up so she can clink hers to his. "To good company." He'll down the rest of the whiskey in the glass, relishing the burn as it travels down his throat, and quickly pours himself another glass.

Storm has posed:
    If Ro had to pin any kind of weather system on Logan? It would be snow. It could be as cold and unforgiving as any force of nature, but was also beautiful in it's own way.

    As for Storm, she does not feel the cold. Not unless she chooses to. It allows her even the ability to exist in the vacuum of space, should she need to, or the deepest oceans by simply controlling the pressure and air around herself.

    Ro tilts her head bakc to look up at the skies. "I imagine that it is breathtaking." Glancing over when he lifts his glass and she taps her own to his but does not down the drink, merely sips. "To good company." Returning the toast with a chuckle.

Wolverine has posed:
Once a new glass is poured, Logan returns to taking smaller sips. As much as he wants to drain the two remaining bottles, he'll keep the urges to a minimum while Ororo is around. He doesn't get to spend as much time with her these days so it's a pleasant distraction from everything else going on.

For a while, Logan just remains silent. The sounds of the water lapping against the banks of the lake and the crickets in the distance are the only sounds around. An occasional breeze rustles the trees. When it seems like it could go on for hours without end, he finally breaks the silence. "I was ready to go through with it," he says without looking at Ororo. His voice is steady, calm, unfaltering, matter-of-fact. "I would've." The words come out steadily but quietly. It's as if he's admitting these things to himself. He probably is. Logan doesn't process emotions beyond rage. This may be his way of doing just that.

Storm has posed:
    Ro was enjoying the companionable silence. Neither would be accused of being verbose, though Ro does open up after a time. She would have been happy to enjoy the evening until one of them called it, but Logan broke the silence.

    Turning her head to him when he speaks that he was ready to do what needed to be done. She looks at him for a long moment before she nodded her head. "I know, Logan. It...is cruel to put that on you. Yet, you are the only one of us capable to make the hard choice. I could not. I have not the strength for it."

Wolverine has posed:
Logan is often faced with tough choices like the one he had to make the day before. Most of the time it's not as difficult as it was this time, but he's managing the complexity of his feelings fairly well. At least as far as anyone can tell.

He follows Ororo's words with a sip of whiskey and then falls silent again, his gaze peering out into the depth of space above the distant trees. "Glad you didn't have to," he says and glances up at the taller woman over his shoulder. He is glad that no one else had to make the call. With his past, he's the best equipped to deal with the inevitable trauma of having to be willing to kill one of your closest friends. More than closest friend, really.

His eyes return to the night sky and he takes another long sip of his drink, falling back into silence.

Storm has posed:
    Ro watched him for a few moments before her own gaze was pulled out to middle-space. Not really looking at anything as she lifted the glass to her lips. Contemplating the words she can already taste behind her teeth. "I have said this many times, but you are a good man, Logan. I weep for the weight you carry. I fear that you think yourself beyond redemption." It is, perhaps, the closest she's come to edging this topic. "It is unfair that this was laid at your feet, but I know that Jean trusted no one else." It still did not feel right.

    Taking a breath as she continued. "I am glad that you did not have to, either. It would have torn something irrepairable in you. You would have left for the memories that haunted the halls. Perhaps I would have to. Just know that the burdens you carry need not be done alone. You are my friend and there is little on this Earth that I would not do for the few friends I have."

Ro suddenly smiled, though it was a sad thing. "I am a selfish woman. I came out here to say these things knowing that you would not judge me for them. How much you must take onto yourself for us? It feels hypocritical and leave a poor taste on my tongue. Forgive me."

Wolverine has posed:
The short ball of muscle sitting beside Ororo continues to peer off into the night sky in silence. Even after she has finished saying what she wanted to say, he remains quiet. If the moon were more full to illuminate Logan's face, Ororo might notice that his expression has stiffened. This time out of damn-near desperation to hold on to his composure. The moonlight glistens from the welling of moisture in his eyes but he's quick to overcome them and get them under control once more.

A few lingering beats of silence and then Logan clears his throat, lowing his gaze to the lapping water that moves in between his bent legs and soaks into the seat of his jeans. He takes a long sip of his whiskey, having to force himself not to finish it and take a swig from the bottle afterwards. "I 'ppreciate you comin' out tonight," he says and finally lifts his head again to glance in her direction. "Nice not havin' to drink alone."

"Don't worry yourself though, darlin'," he says, leaning back to plant both of his elbows into the wet earth behind him so he's half-lying in the moss, "Had to be done and could've gone further south than it already has."

Storm has posed:
    Ro tosses back the entirety of the glass in her hand after the emotional dumping of words. Closing her eyes at the burn before she leans forward, elbows on her crooked up knees. Toes digging into the mud. She smiles and turns her head, resting it on her arm as she watches him a moment and nods. "It is." In reply to not drinking alone.

    "It could have, I believe we got very lucky." She let out a sigh and turned her head to look back at the water. "You are a good friend, Logan." Said as held the glass out to him. "Last one for me. It is not safe to drink and fly." Grinning softly at her own bad joke.

Wolverine has posed:
As the glass is held out, Logan grunts and shift his weight so he can grab the bottle and hold it over towards Ororo's glass. Since it's her last one, he'll top it off with a grin and a wink. "Might as well make it a good one then," he says before brings the bottle to his lips and takes a long pull directly from it. After a few hefty gulps, he closes his eyes and lets out a satisfied 'ahhh'. Shit's good.

"Right back atcha," he says at her. She's a damn good friend. "Can't have you knockin' birds out of the sky," he says, the grin remaining. "I could always pile some boxes up as a bed if you help me kill the bottle," he says and manages to emit a few throaty chuckles.

After a few moments, he leans back again and lets out a long breath, "Given any thought about what yer gonna do after all this?" All this X-Men shit. All this hero shit. There's a shelf life and they've both been at it for a pretty long time.

Storm has posed:
    The Weather Witch chuckles softly as Logan makes something of a show filling her glass and then drinking from the bottle. They both shared a rather unique ability to simply move on from things that hung many up. "Ah, I need little more than soft earth to be comfortable." She had not grown up easily, so few of them had. She considered the offer, but kept the answer for herself.

    Ah, the main question of after. "I think that I would return to Kenya, for a time. Ensure that my people there are well protected and happy. Beyond that? I do not know. I think I enjoy the idea of living simply after everything we've been through. Something quiet and peaceful for as long as I can hold onto it."

Wolverine has posed:
Logan is used to sleeping on the ground or hard floors when he's not actively staying at the mansion, so he can sleep damn near anywhere. Comfort is a luxury that he does appreciate when he can get it but can do without. He eyes the remaining liquid in the bottle and considers opening up the second bottle Ororo brought but thinks twice about it. He'll tear into it when she's not around.

He glances over at her as she mentions Kenya. She cares about her people. It's admirable. He has no doubt she'd be able to look after them. Her answer draws a quiet emote of acknowledgement from him. Her answer about living a simple life after everything else fills his mind with images of Canada. He figures he'll end up doing the same thing. Living in the wilderness, hunting for food until his body finally fails him. Only problem is not knowing how long that's going to take. "That sounds nice."

Storm has posed:
    She turns and looks at him fully. Searching for something, yet she isn't entirely sure what. "I can already see wilderness spread out for miles in your head, Logan." Chuckling softly, knowing him all too well. "Once things have settled, we should visit Africa. It would do us both good, I think."

    They both spent time away from the Mansion, though Logan tended to draw a bit more ire with his. Ro, too, sometimes left for long stretches and she could feel the drum beat of her home in her blood. "If we get to 'after', you should not let yourself become the proverbial 'lone wolf'. I think you do better with something of a pack." Teaisng him gently, but honestly. Logan flourished with others under his wing. True, he was rough around the edges, but only when he expected better. "Promise me that you will won't lose yourself to the woods. For as much of an animal you claim, you are still a man and both are social creatures at heart."

Wolverine has posed:
"You gotta deal on Africa," he says matter-of-factly. Hell, he'd hop a flight there tonight if he could get one. "Shit I got nothin' else to do if you want to go hot-wire the blackbird." He grins and looks over at her with a wink that she likely can't see in the darkness.

When she asks him not to disappear after 'retirement,' he lets her speak her piece. "Who knows what the hell's gonna happen after all this. If we make it." At some point Logan's body is going to bounce back a little slower. He knows himself and he's lived so long and thrown himself at everything without worrying about his survival that the mentality is going to get him killed. Out of instinct alone. "I promise you I'll try," he says as he lifts his glass in a salute, "Best I can do."

Storm has posed:
    Storm laughed and shook her head. "Scott and Jean have enough on their plates without adding two plane jumpers onto it." She appreciated his gumption and knew that he felt the same restlessness. Though, his wink is lost in the dark as she merely has his outline and some features to go off of. Instead, she turned her head to favor the water for a while.

    "That is all I can ask, my friend. It gives me a level of peace." He will likely outlive them all. It is a sad thought, but knowing that some part of her voice may stay with him after she has gone settles something within her. She lifted her glass to his to seal his promise to try before lifting it once more.

    "Ah, but I wish there was a storm." There's a strange sort of longing in her voice. Wind Dancer, they called her, for in the storm she does not have to hold to her emotions as tightly. The lightning and rain can take her laughter or tears without her worrying about the effects. Though, she isn't certain which would rise in a storm.

Wolverine has posed:
She's right about that. Scott and Jean have enough shit to deal with already without two of the senior teammates stealing the jet and fucking off halfway across the globe. Under different circumstances, Logan might enjoy seeing Scott's reaction to it.

He glances up into the clear night sky, seeing the cluster of stars that make up their view of the Milky Way. He always misses the view when he's too close to civilization. The thought that there are people in the world who have never seen the Milky Way seems foreign to the man. "Yer welcome to roll one in, darlin'. I don't mind." If she wants a storm, she is one of the few living beings capable of making one happen, so why the hell not. Neighbors may not like it, but fortunately there aren't many around. And those that are nearby aren't going to come knocking on Logan's door to bitch about the weather. "Always liked having a swim during a storm."

Storm has posed:
    Storm closed her eyes and reached out with her powers. Feeling more closely the state of things. Tilting her head slightly and her voice seemed almost wistful, breathless. "The rainstorm I spoke of earlier. Just a gentle thing. If I called a storm now, it would snuff it out. We will get a storm within the week, however. I can feel the low pressures far north of us that will push through. Then I will dance." Smiling a bit before she simply laid back in the moss, letting the mostly untouched glass of whiskey rest beside her. Fingertips lingering at the edges of the glass to make sure it doesn't tip.

    Her eyes are not blazing white, but there's just the slightest glow as she'd tapped into the sensory part of her abilities. "Is swimming a good idea for you? I know for a fact that you are heavier than you appear." Chuckling as pulled the loose hair from under her shoulders and simply flicked a hand to cast the white strands along the moss beside her.

    "Lightning is not a force forgiving of metal structures and water merely amplifies that." Turning her head to look at him. "Not that I would allow you to be struck by lightning." Maybe a little static from time to time, but she'd never admit to it.

Wolverine has posed:
"Never said I was a good swimmer," the man says through a grin, his smile given away by the sound of his voice. "Mostly just lay around on the bottom, anyway," he continues. While Logan can swim, it's not something he does regularly. As his friend so nicely pointed out, the weight from the metal on his bones has made him much less buoyant. Fortunately he can hold his breath for a long time.

Casting a suspicious gaze towards Ororo when she mentions not letting him get struck by lightning, Logan shakes his head knowing she'd probably at least fuck with him. She's a noble woman but she's not without her sense of humor.

He lifts the bottle once more to his lips and takes a short pull this time.

Storm has posed:
    "That is not swimming, then." Said with a chuckle as she watches the skies. "Shall we have Hank devise you some gayly colored floatation device? Or try to weave you a raft of pool noodles?" Tilting her head to look at him as she laughed softly. Yes, she was giving him a hard time, but there was no malice or cruelty in it. Just friendly ribbing. "Or, I can lie beside you at the bottom with a bubble of air and we can complain about mud and curious little critters."

    Logan would feel the shiver of static charge dance across his skin and Ro merely chuckles wickedly. There's barely any intensity to it, just enough to get the hair on his arms lifting just a bit. There were a few of the X-Men that knew of Ro's sense of playfulness. Though it was a rarely seen thing.

    Ro lifted up to prop herself up by one elbow as she lifted the glass to sip from. Enjoying the artifical sense of warmth that raced along her limbs.