14823/Somewhere in the Backhills of Xavier's - Westchester

Somewhere in the Backhills of Xavier's - Westchester
Date of Scene:	19 March 2023
Location:	In the woods - Westchester county
Synopsis:	A quiet time in the woods of westchester. Post-astral-dventure Sinister has a conversation with Logan with surprising results.
Cast of Characters:	Sinister, Wolverine

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Sinister has posed:
New York State -- for all that there's dense population, there's also vast tracks of unspoiled woodland. Some of it is familiar, others of it are not. Lost cabins from bygone times slowly rot in some of the more remote areas, but they're also blessedly free of people. People who smell, ask questions, want you to be sociable, get into trouble, CAUSE trouble and think far, far too much. All the time. Every second.

Of course, that's not a problem that everyone shares. Here, in a spot on a rise, the bewintered trees scratch at the moon, when it's visible. It's one of those dark nights, thanks to clouds and the lights of the cities only really illuminate the horizon. It's very quiet, but there's elk about. And coyotes. Maybe even a wolf or two. Owls. Rabbits. And a black figure perched in a tree, being extremely, extremely quiet.

Wolverine has posed:

Logan is out in these places free of the city. He needs to be. Laura's stepped out again. That bugged him. Coming to the unspoiled land allows the mind to go black. To make sure instincts are sharp.

Hunkering down between the trees, Logan is currently hunting on of the elk. Claws have yet to come out. If it weren't for the clouds, the Hunter's Moon snuffed out thanks to clouds. However, Logan can -feel- it. The shift in the environment speaks to Logan. Well, the instinctual side.

He's moving -slowly- toward the Elk when a smell move in the air. It's very faint. For a second Logan thinks he imagines it. However, the scent doesn't go away. It stays. It lingers.

"Shnkt!" the claws come out and now the man rushes forward. "I can smell ya, bub," he says firmly not knowing where Sinister is.

Sinister has posed:
"I dare say you can. You are a man of superlatively exacting senses," The voice comes from above. A reasonable distance above in fact, at least twenty foot up, if the ears do not deceive. "That call however, spooked the elk. A shame really, as you were otherwise undetected."

A light materializes above, nothing more than a dim coal-red glow, from eyes lit from within, solid red, without iris or pupil. They're trained downward, no unfortunate obscuring leaves to get in the way. Thanks, winter.

"For what it's worth, I mean you no harm. You can believe or disbelieve as you like."

Wolverine has posed:
And there's the voice to confirm his suspicions. Just because he smells Sinsiter, doesn't mean it is Sinister. Weirder things have happened.

Ocean blue eyes stretch upward to the trees. The dim glow of those eyes are watched firmly. The Elk leaves and Sinister even comments. "Bigger game popped up," and he'll even give a smirk.

"I'll believe ya fer now. One thing I'm learnin'. You don't lie too much," he gives the metaphorical devil the credit where it's due. Same for the literal Devil, too. Lucifer is just at the club right now, Logan suspects.

Sinister has posed:
Indeed. Attending to devilish business. "I don't see the need to lie. So much of the time, you can tell the truth and nobody believes you anyway..." the focus of the gaze shifts, tracking the elk where it runs, perhaps. The return to gazing downward is casual, which probably says something. "You know... now I'm picturing you eating me and that has all kinds of disturbing connotations. If I come down there, are you going to stab me? It doesn't really matter to me if you do or not, but I do like to ask politely."

Well.

Wolverine has posed:
Logan says nothing, but there is a sound. "SHNKT!" the claws retract back into Logan's body. The wounds heal and the blades are now hidden. Yes, they each know the claws are there. However, it means that Sinister won't get stabbed -right- away at least. "You'd probably taste terrible," Logan says after a good long pause rests between them.

Sinister has posed:
"You never can tell," the reply comes back with a tone of due consideration. "There's a theory that has sustained through several tries at questioning it, that one of the reasons a hairless, mostly slow ape with no remarkable strength compared to others of its genus, was able to become the dominant species on a planet. It goes something along the lines of 'we all taste rather awful' and thus were not the prefered prey. And then we got smart enough to be not worth it. So... generally speaking... you're probably right." That was a long and convoluted route to saying two words and a contraction. Talking can sometimes be a coping mechanism though, or a distraction.

There's no sound to Sinister's descent, he simply lifts off the branch and flies down without stirring more than the air he passes through. He looks nothing like he's supposed to, though. No silly costume. other than the eyes and general palor, he's just dressed in a fleece lined leather jacket and jeans.

Wolverine has posed:
"Got a point," Logan admits about the taste thng. Logan could see that. Yes, it sounds far-fetched. However, it's not so far-fetched. It's one part adaptation and one part luck. Seems to work.

Then there's that eerie silent fall down. How it defies the laws of gravity. How it makes no nose. "You wanted to talk. You got my attention," he says firmly to Nathaniel.

Logan's dressed in the simple bomber jacket and a pair of dark blue jeans. It's very similar to the last time these two met.

Sinister has posed:
Somehow, the Wolverine doesn't strike as the kind of mutant that has an expansive and diverse wardrobe. Variations on a theme, is what comes to mind. Nodding, Sinister slides his hands into the pockets of his own jacket, the moon popping out briefly from her sojourn behind the clouds to paint him even whiter in the glow. Vampire pale, is definitely a thing. He looks up at the half-a-pie shape that she currently is, then looks back across his cheek and nose to Logan. "I wanted to thank you, I suppose. But this is, if I admit it... chance. She's a fine mistress she is and has dominated a good deal of my life."

Again, it sounds honest.

Wolverine has posed:
Logan notes how Sinister blends in the light. How he looks unearthly and unnatural. Like he can use these surroundings, if it wasn't for the eyes.

"WHy the hell are ya thankin' me?" Logan asks and he's genuinely stunned. "Not like I helped ya move in or somethin'," he says knowing that Sinister didn't ask him for any help lately. And this is what makes Logan very concerned about Sinister's words. "What'd I do?"

Sinister has posed:
Sinister looks square in the other man's eyes, or at least one can assume that's where he's looking. The feeling of eye contact is there, at least, in an instinctual way. "Hrmm," the frown that follows and the look down after at the leaf litter speaks of a struggle to find his inner script. "Well, mostly, because I never really expected -you- to be the reasonable one in the situation I put myself at the mercy of. And yet... there you were. Just goes to show you can never tell, I suppose. Also, that blind hatred can sometimes make an ass out of a person." He sighs at that, then snorts a soft chuckle, although there doesn't seem to be much humour in it. He stands silent and still for a couple of long moments, then sits down. On the air, as if there was a convenient chair to park himself in, that just so happens to be utterly immaterial.

"What... in the name of all that's right in the world, have I done to myself? I remember you know. I remember hunting for you, a hundred odd years ago. You were very, very good at not being found. And I never did find you. It was something very frustrating, but admirable at the same time."

Wolverine has posed:
"It wasn't bein' sensible. It was doin' the math, logical," Logan looks at the man as he chuckles. Logan gives a small half smile. Then Sinister is sitting on the air. Like there's a chair cradling his frame to keep him from dangling due to gravity.

"We -know- how you are. Then yer talkin' 'bout bein' worse without yer conscious working. And ya weren't lying much. Woulda been bad ya got out," Logan adds that last part, just clarifying that he didn't think of it as sensible. Just something logical, which is odd to say Logan used.

"Chance is a cruel mistress, but sometimes it's all we got," he admits. Then he looks back to Sinister, "I remember it, vaguely." The memories are still scambled a little," he admits. Again, this doesn't sound out of the question given the sea of old memories that still needed soring.

"Thanks fer the compliment, yer frustratin', too," Logan says softly and he openly smirks to Nathaniel.

Sinister has posed:
"Logic and common sense often go hand in hand, Logan. Although common sense is not remotely common and proof of the evolution of language," there's a pause, from Sinister and a grimace. "Od's teeth I am talking like I have a bad case of verbal diarrhoea. Yes, of course you are, that's why you flew off to the quiet, isn't it? Yes it is." Well, that's odd. Not super odd, but odd.

"For what it's worth, you've changed for the positive, Logan. The man I hunted was viscious, as you are now, but there was considerably less hoots given for well, anything other than yourself. I think the man was buried much deeper beneath the instinct for a while. Something like that, anyway." He reaches to his face, rubs it with one hand and once again, stares up at the moon, just as she slips away.

"How did you... come to terms with who you are?"

Wolverine has posed:
"I knew I was gonna lose the argument n' I wasn't gonna sign a contract wit' a man that probably has a whole layer dedicated to lawyers, accountants and other people like that," Logan doesn't clarify if he thinks this is out of punishment for them or others. His gaze stays on Sinister for a moment. The mouth keeps going. Sinister keeps talking.

Then comes a question. Logan has a bunch of loaded questions. They all lurk in a similar category.

He sighs, "It took time. Some of it was a lot of talk wit' a few trusted people. Lots of work wit' people like Chuck," and he looks toward Sinister. "It's a personal journy. If yer plannin' on takin' one, it'll be a little different, and some days, I still hate myself," he admits. Then he looks down for a moment. "I think about the guy that signed up for these," and he'll brandish those claws. A "Shnkt!" cuts through the air as the claws burst through his hands again. Then he focuses for a moemnt, the claws go back in. "Kinda glad I can't remember him," he admits. Shaking his head, that's the truth of it all. Ocean blue eyes stay on the man. "What kinda dilemma are ya facin' there?" he's genuinely curious.

Sinister has posed:
The answer is listened to with all the respect it deserves, looking up from the contemplation of leaf litter to once more look the canadian in his ocean blue's. What light there is, shows Sinister's lips set in a rather thin line. His head simply tilts a little at the sound of the trademarked Shnkt! as the blades emerge, but he doesn't look. He knows them, you see. Very well indeed. He helped design the process that allowed them to occur in the first place! The reply is a guff of air, a lift of an open palm and the collapse of that hand to his lap, at first. Lets try that again...

"I know who I am. But I don't recognize the man I see in the mirror. I've been avoiding that reflection, truthfully. For the sake of well... probably a good many things, not the least of which /is/ my own continued existence, I sought a way to find the memories and knowledge that had been disassociated from me against my will. You know the result of that search. But now?" He shakes his head. "I -know- why I did all the things that I did, Logan. I don't have excuses for them. And before now? I never really cared."

Wolverine has posed:

Logan just listens to sinister. Just truly listening to everything. He understands the tone in that voice. Not quite desperation, not quite sadness, but there is something alarming to those tones. "Why do you care now?" that's where everything hangs. He asks Sinister. "What causes that change?" Logan will hold back a little bit. He does not that something, or someone, is the catalyst to Sinister's change.

Sinister has posed:
"I can feel," - it's actually a very simple answer, to a ridiculously complicated set of scenarios, questions and lines of inquiry. Sinister looks down at Logan's hands, then back up to his face. "I turned myself into what I became, Logan. I'm now, struggling with some of the why of it all."

Wolverine has posed:
Hearing that, Logan just thinks on it. One conclusion comes to, "It ain't 'bout why. It's about what yer gonna do now that ya don't like what ya see in the mirror," Logan says letting Sinsiter chew on that question. Standing up, he looks toward the man. "That's the big thing ya gotta focus on now."

Sinister has posed:
"That amongst other things," Sinister replies mildly. Quietly. There's a quiet sigh as he glances at his own hand once again, pale as pale. "I won't keep you further though, if you were still keen on downing an elk. There's a small herd downwind of us, about two miles out." He taps the side of his head with his index finger, as explanation to how he knows.

Wolverine has posed:
"Don't expect to get that answer quick. Remember that," he says firmly to him. Then stretches out for a moment. A moment later he starts to move toward the Elk. "Hope ya get the answer ya need," he says instead of the answer that he wants.