2587/Tigger and Badger

Tigger and Badger
Date of Scene:	25 September 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Okhotnik, Wolverine

---

Okhotnik has posed:
Diya has heard plenty of warnings about the supposedly very dangerous 'Badger', apparently a mutant also staying at and around the Mansion, believed to be a lethal and predatory soul. Not that the Russian minds that description or is bothered by it, but even those who are quite intimidated by her 'other self' still seem quite worried about what might transpire in a first encounter betwixt them. As such, in her stay at the Mansion Diya has elected not to make a point of hunting down that scent she has identified as likely belonging to the male the others have identified as 'Badger'.

In the meantime, the Russian has made a fixture of herself doing a lot of manual labor, from cleaning dishes to scrubbing, mopping, raking, weeding, etc. She has particularly shown some appreciation for working on some of the vehicles, when given the opportunity. But she goes anywhere she can find something to do, all just to be productive and in some small way 'pay back' the school for allowing her to stay. Meanwhile, her presence has been openly acknowledged to students and staff alike, as the PTSD-suffering weretigress in residence, apparently being hidden away and protected from those who would try to capture and study her against her will. Her scent can be found far and wide inside and outside the fenced-in surrounds of the mansion.

This afternoon, as with many others, Diya is outside the Mansion's confines; she much prefers open sky to ceilings. In ratty shorts and an equally worn-through t-shirt of sandy tan the ashen-blonde woman is on hands and knees, digging out weeds from one of the flower beds with her bare hands.

Wolverine has posed:
    Exiting the garage, Logan appears to be wiping his hands with a very grungy cloth, trying to get the grease off of his hands. Hanging from the left side of his face is his cigar, smoked about halfway through.

    Logan is a little scruffy today, not having shaved in a few days, and his stubble is starting to look like a heckuva lot more than five o'clock shadow. He is wearing a slightly stained white muscle t-shirt and a pair of torn, worn jeans that looks like they were purchased in the 70s. His cowboy hat his slightly bent to the side, and his boots look comfortable, if a little worse for wear.

    Logan spots the woman in the back yard working through some weeds in the flower bed. Walking slowly over to her, Logan looks down, and says, "Hello there. I heard there was a new arrival tha' has been rootin' around in tha' back yard. Ah'm Logan. And you are?"

Okhotnik has posed:
There's a hint of tension that passes through the woman's visible musculature as she catches a fresh hint of a scent she has taught herself to carefully avoid. It's something that Logan's sort of attention is likely to catch, but she does not jerk. Instead, she waits, the movements of her hands slowing but not quite going still, tension building as she anticipates. When she speaks, the Russian accent is pointy, but smoothed over enough to be understandable in spite of itself.

"Yus. I am Klavdiya Vasiliev. Most call me Diya, or Okhotnik." It is the Russian word for Hunter, something Logan's experience may well know when others do not. "Looo-gan." Diya repeats, lifting her eyes, an amber inner glow in her grey-green eyes dimming and fading as she does so, just barely glinting in the sunlight. "So now at last I meet the man source of the scent I have picked up." She eyes him, curiously. "Can see some of why they speak of you as they do." Who is they? She does not say, yet.

Wolverine has posed:
    Logan nods, sniffs lightly, and nods again, as though satisfying his curiousity. She was the smell he has noticed lately. His eyes watch the woman carefully, as he crushes the cloth into his right back pocket with his right hand, and removes the cigar from his mouth with his left hand.

    Exhaling softly, the cloud of smoke he expels from his mouth wafts lazily around his head, and blows away at the slightest cool breeze that caresses them with its Autumn chill as it moves across the back yard.

    Now that his right hand was free, Logan taps the edge of his very worn cowboy hat respectfully. "Nice ta' meet ya', "Hunter"." Logan does speak Russian, and bows respectfully.

    "Ah see you are makin' yerself at home around here? Tha's good. All are welcome here, as long as you aren't threatenin' ta' hurt, maim, or kill." Logan winks at her and smiles. "I am sure that most of wha' ya' hear, isn't flatterin' but thanks. I think." Logan nods. "If you ever need anything, just give me a hollar. I am usually in the garage workin' on my motorcycle, or something."

Okhotnik has posed:
Diya nods as Logan acknowledges her name. "Thank you ... 'Badger'?" she offers questioningly. Chances are she's getting this wrong, but she can only go on what others say, until she learns for herself.

Whoops.

"I am doing my best to prove useful, to repay the kindness I have been shown." the Russian woman admits. She hunches slightly at the shoulders as Logan mentions not hurting, maiming or killing; she is a soldier, a killer, and that's not going to change. She has no desire to bring that harm to anyone here, but she cannot promise they will be safe. Indeed, she argued strongly with Jean that bringing her here was a danger to be avoided; she argued again later that she should not remain.

Jean is a ginger. She made up her own mind, and then informed the weretigress how things were going to be. Diya proved wiser than some, in that she stopped arguing after a while, and accepted as graciously as she could still manage.

Diya considers something for a bit, as her nose visibly wrinkles. "Pardon me for asking. You ... smell of metal." She gestures towards his midsection. "And it is not belt buckle. Something ... deeper. More."

Wolverine has posed:
    Logan places the cigar in his mouth with his right hand once more, and takes a small drag. The light at the tip glows brighter for a brief moment, and subsides as Logan stops inhaling. His eyes regard Diya with an appraising yet casual air. It was an assessment, but not too intrusive. After all, this was a woman. The "deadliest" of the species. Logan grins.

    "No. Logan. Wolverine. Not Badger." Shaking his head, Logan looks at his chest, removes the cigar, and says, "It's my adamantium skeleton. Makes me tough ta' kill." Logan pauses and considers her ability to sense that.

    "So tell me...why are you really here, Little Hunter?" Logan already has a nickname for her. Like calling Kurt "Fuzzy Elf". "I can tell you are no ordinary mutant. There is something...deadly about you. Why are you here, and what can you do? Your abilities?" Logan peers at her.

Okhotnik has posed:
Diya nods in respect as Logan corrects her on the name. She will not make the mistake again; Lex and Tabby spoke of him as 'Badger', so it was the only name she knew until they met. Respect demands knowing, and using, an individual's name accurately. She expects the same for herself, so she gives that respect to others. Yet she does not seem to mind being called 'little hunter'; they can both tell she is taller, but it is the same sort of nickname often given in the military.

"I am not mutant." Diya admits, honest to a fault. "I am weretigress. 'Afflicted', not born. I survived an attack when I should have died. I healed impossibly fast afterwards. And I was changed." She shrugs. "As for deadly ... I was Spetznaz." She still is, really, but she's way AWOL.

Wolverine has posed:
    Logan regards the young woman thoughtfully for several moments without commenting as she speaks, and tells him something of her background. Logan nods at parts, smiles at parts, "hmmms" at parts, and continues to take the occasional drag off his cigar as it slowly gets smaller and smaller. The smell of cigar smoke permeates the cool fall air, but it is a good smell. After all, these were high quality cigars he had "borrowed" from Nick Fury. The best.

    "A weretiger. That is...new." Logan says with a smile. "And Spetnaz...that can be...trouble. I know all about them." A look fo concern passes through Logan's face, and is gone as quick as it appeared.

    "So why are you here then? We usually don't deal with those of your...kind." Logan tries to say that gently, but fails. "We're mostly a school for mutants? How did you hear of us? How did you find us? Who invited you?" Logan raises his hands, palms open and non-threatening. "Ah'm just wonderin' is all."

Okhotnik has posed:
Clearly Logan hasn't been reading his email. Nevertheless, Diya does not seem to take offense at the fireplug of a man or his questions. She simply nods, clearly understanding his concerns and respecting them - even sharing them.

"I encountered two students in Mutant Town. I have been living there on the streets, homeless." A damned good way to stay off the grid and be largely ignored by others; even better in Mutant Town, where tiny oddities would simply be ignored as background noise. "I helped them when trouble arose, and became quite fond of one of them. When more trouble arose, I helped again, and then followed them to make sure they reached 'home' safely."

Diya doesn't go into details about how she pulled this off, but surely Logan of all people can understand that as a Spetznaz-trained soldier whose comrades called 'Hunter' even before she became a weretigress, such things would be second nature to her. "I perused the exterior to make sure they were safe inside. I stayed in the woods; it felt good to be out of the canyons of concrete for a bit. When I noticed her trying to leave the grounds, I made her go back inside. Given the trouble, I made a point of continuing to come out here regularly to watch for her trying to sneak out, and forcing her back inside." There's a warm protectiveness in the tale that is hidden behind neutral, professional wording. But Logan's acute sense, barely dulled by the smoke of the cigar, can likely pick that up despite how she glosses over it.

"The runs out and back were leaving me rather hungry." Homeless includes a lack of much more than the most basic sustenance, and clearly she needed far more than that to do what she was doing. "Apparently, that meant that when I went to sleep, the tiger came out and went hunting. Eventually the students found her. They wanted to protect her. Eventually they told Ms. Grey about her, and Ms. Grey met the tiger, and found me inside her. She decided to bring me inside." Diya shakes her head a bit. "She overrode my concerns. And now that she knows more, she has decided to leverage the resources here to help me."

Diya clearly still doubts the wisdom of that decision, but she just as clearly has acquiesced in spite of herself. Then again, few people ever win an argument with a determined Jean Grey. Surely Logan knows that.