9492/Get Camp

Get Camp
Date of Scene:	08 October 2019
Location:	Campsites - Breakstone Lake
Synopsis:	Theresa and Logan go camping. They discus the school, teaching, and dealing with inner demons.
Cast of Characters:	Wolverine, Siryn

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Wolverine has posed:
Sentinels. Norse Gods. Troublesome Students. Life at the Xavier School is not easy, and there's no small measure of stress in the lives of teachers and students alike. When one's usual response to stress is self-destructive, it's sometimes a good idea to get out and do something else - and that's why Logan suggested camping. He's not sure why. He was never much chop at being the team's Agony Aunt, but needs must when the Devil drives and all that.

So, they hiked their way up to the campsites that overlook Breakstone Lake and set up their tents - well, Logan helped set up a tent. When asked about his own, he said he preferred to 'rough it' under the stars since he never much felt the cold and mosquitos found his Adamantium-tainted blood unpalatable.

Now, the fire crackles in the small stone circle and Logan fishes through the cooler he hauled all the way up here to produce a short can that he tosses Theresa's way.

"Non-alcoholic. Figure it's better'n nothin'."

Siryn has posed:
Camping. There was something no one had ever suggested to Terri before. It wasn't something she'd ever considered, either, but given she'd considered quite a lot in her still short life that was saying something. The simple suggestion is met with a shrug and a 'why not?' attitude as she heads along following the path Logan leads her on. She even tries to do her best to help put up the tent though it required a lot of looking at the instructions and muttering about American directions.

When it comes time to settle by the fire she was more than ready to relax. Enough so that the thrown drink catches her by surprise. Instinct kicks in though, and her hands reach up to clap around it even with eyebrows raising.

At least until he explains.

"Bugger. I guess everyone knows that about me now." There's a little look of regret in her green eyes as she regards the non-alcoholic drink... Right before cracking it open to take a swig. She braces herself expecting a horrible flavor only to squint at the can after. "Not great, but definitely had worse. It... almost is the same. Almost." A glance is cast across the fire to nod toward him. "Thank you."

Wolverine has posed:
"Ain't no shame in it," Logan shakes his head, reaching into the cooler to produce an identical can of near-beer for himself, "What's that they say? It's a sickness? Yer no more guilty'n if you had a cold."

There is a snap-hiss as he cracks his own can, takes a sip of it, and then shrugs his shoulders: "Yeah. Not great."

He lapses into silence for a moment, leaning forward with his forearms on his thighs as he stares into the fire. That seems to be a prominent thing about Logan - he feels no need to feel silences, regardless of how comfortable or uncomfortable they are. He just sits. Either waiting until he has something to say, or someone has something to say to him.

Finally, however, he does speak up: "Heard yer teachin' at the school. Glad t' hear that. Better'n hangin' out with gangs." The last part prompts a wolfish, sharp-toothed grin from him.

Siryn has posed:
Theresa Cassidy opens her mouth to protest his remark of a sickness, but decides not to. Instead she raises the beer for another sip allowing her own gaze to fixate on the fire for a few quiet moments. It took a long time to even admit to herself she had a problem. One too many drinks one too many times made it all tend to blurr together until she realized how much time had passed since she'd been sober.

"Yeh," she finally lets out in a quiet exhale of breath. "S'pose so."

Thankfully the topic changes drawing her attention back toward Logan. The grin earns an upward roll of her eyes even as she finds herself responding with a grin of her own.

"We can thank Kitty for that. She's the one suggested I try my hand at teaching." Even now she still had mixed feelings over it. Yet, ultimately... "It's not so bad. I do have an art degree after all. Just not what I thought I'd be doing with myself."

Shifting she allows her legs to stretch out so her toes get just a bit closer to the fire where it was nice and toasty. Not too close. Just a bit that she finds her shoulders slowly relaxing as the tension unwinds from her. "Not sure what I did expect to be doing with my life. You ever figure that out yourself?" A single eyebrow creeps upward questioningly while she gives a half-grin that she tries to hide behind the can as it raises to her lips for another sip.

Wolverine has posed:
"However, many years it's been," Logan says with a faint roll of his shoulders, "Century at least - prob'ly a whole lot more'n that. Don't think I ever truly felt I found what it was I was meant t'be doin'. Jus' things that felt right at the time. Figure that's about as good as y'can do, Red."

There's another sip of the near-beer, followed by another stretch of silence. He is a little further from the fire himself, so much so that the flickering light seems to cast him mostly in shadow. His blue eyes follow her, that predator gaze that he can't shake no matter what kind of intention lays behind it.

"Still, how're y'findin' it? I was a little hes'tant when they got me back t' teachin' - but considerin' I get t' do it on my own terms, it ain't so bad."

Siryn has posed:
Theresa Cassidy knew Logan was old, but she'd never really heard tell of how old. Hearing him mention centuries does cause her to look him over again. It was hard to see with the dim flickering light that cast over him causing him to seem more like he'd stepped out of a campire story, rather than being a camper himself, but she'd seen him enough times to know what he actually looked like. "Holding up pretty well for a centenarian at least," she offers with a wry grin. "I guess that's about what we all can do at points. Just our best." Something she ought to remind herself of more often.

A downward tip of her head is met by her hand raking back through the length of her hair more out of habit than needing to get it out of her face. It was just a relaxing, soothing gesture she often did.

"It's frustrating. I feel like I'm not doing right by them... but they seem to be doing all right. I just keep trying to remember the best teachers I had." A wry smile tugs at her lips, and she risks a glance back toward him again. "I still miss fighting though."

Wolverine has posed:
That wolfish grin returns, and the firelight catches white teeth with rather-too-sharp canines jutting down towards his bottom lip. His eyes flick up to catch Theresa's, a rumble that might be a chuckle escaping him before he takes another sip of near-beer.

"Pretty well? Yer gonna make me blush, if yer not careful."

He nods his head slowly as she speaks, letting the words sink in before he answers: "That's how it is, I think. Y'never feel like yer doin' enough or doin' it right, but then one day they're adults an' y'see how much they've done. That's the downside - yer never gonna know how well y'did til yer done."

Siryn has posed:
There was something about that grin of his. Maybe it was the teeth, sharp and predatory. Maybe it was the fact that seeing him *actually grin* was rather an interesting sight when he was so often grumpy, or stoic, or just resting-Wolverine-face. Either way Theresa can't help but to give a little laugh in turn at the notion of him blushing. "No one would believe me if I said I saw such a sight. Not that I can tell with the firelight to begin with."

A little chuckling shake of her head is offered as she falls silent once more listening to his own words on the matter. "That's... probably true. I haven't had chance to see that yet in any case." A slower, softer smile tugs at her lips. It's almost a wistful look as she allows her mind to drift to future possibilities she hadn't considered before.

"I think I'd like to be around long enough to get to see how they turn out. Something to look forward to."

Her long fingers tap on the side of her can listening to the sound it makes to judge how full it still was before tipping it back to take another swig. "Och, it'd be nice to have something to look forward to given everything going on lately."

Wolverine has posed:
"Why'd y'think I dragged you all the way out t' the woods? I'm gonna do my big song 'n dance number an' no one'll ever believe you saw it. All part a' my secret plan t' drive you insane, Cassidy."

The Canuck is still grinning as he finishes his own can, crushing it down to playing card thinness between his palms and dropping the metallic disc right back in the cooler it came from. He retrieves too more cans, rising up to walk around the fire and settle himself down on a rock next to Theresa - holding out the other can for her.

"I know it's hard t' stick around," Logan says quietly, "Know it better'n most. Things start goin' right an' you start t' thinkin' that the universe is gonna balance itself out by makin' it all go wrong in the most spectacular way possible. So, y' start doin' the damage yerself so at least it's on your terms."

A pause.

" - or maybe that's just me. But I'm stickin' around - an' yer right, there's somethin' good t' look forward to. I reckon we're doin' somethin' valuable here, even if I don't always say it."

Siryn has posed:
"Like the dancing frog," Terri remarks of his song and dance bit. That always was a fond memory of hers, that silly, goofy cartoon. Loony Toons. Such simpler times watching those old things when she was a kid. When she was allowed to be a kid to some extent. Her own can is set beside her rather than crush it, though she could. Her fingers have barely drawn away from the top when Logan moves over to sit beside her holding out the other can.

Raising her head to look toward him she offers a tired smile. The can is accepted with one hand raised to wrap her fingers around it even as she continues to regard him. Those words sink in, hitting home in so many ways. Yet not quite in others.

"Never set out trying to hurt myself. Just... I already hurt. So much. Anytime I got close to someone... Started to care... Then it'd all be over. They'd be gone. Either leaving or dyin' or going where I can't follow."

"It just hurt so much. Just wanted to feel ... to *not* feel for awhile." The can is drawn closer to regard it without opening. It wasn't the same, she knew it wasn't. It symbolized that in a way even if the contents didn't match. "That never really works though. Just keep going further and further down till you don't know which way is up. Somehow you convince yourself that's how it ought to be. Don't deserve any better."

A long, deep breath is drawn then let out in a rush. "Fuck that. I'm not going to keep thinking that. Running never got me anywhere."

Another little huff of breath breaks from her lips before she leans to the side to just lean against Logan with her hands still wrapped around that can held in her lap.

"You do good, you know? With the kids. I see it. Hope I can too."

Wolverine has posed:
Logan doesn't intrude on what she says. He simply sits there, unopened can dangling from his fingers and forearms resting on his knees. He doesn't stare at her while she talks, instead keeping his focus on the flickering light of the campfire. It is only when Theresa finishes that he turns to regard her and speak.

"I know about hurtin'," he answers, "Lot a' people think 'cus I heal so quick, I don't feel it the same. But that's not true. It hurts jus' as much - I've still got nerves, they still behave the way they're s'posed to. Same goes fer the other kind a' hurt. 'Cept when this thing I got try's t' heal that? It makes me forget. Least, that's my theory. Don't know the truth of it."

Her compliment is accepted with another nod of his head, fingers drumming on the side of the still-closed can: "'Ppreciate that. An' if it's worth anythin', I think yer gonna do well. Y'got a good heart, even if it's easier t' hide it sometimes."

Siryn has posed:
"Never thought that of ya," Terri remarks though she nods faintly at the very thought of it. It was easy to see how others would after all. Instead she offers a wry grin, "I just figured you were a tough old goat too stubborn to let it show half the time." The words are offered with a little teasing tone as she finally looks up to him again.

"I'm sticking around this time. Long as I need to. Thanks fer this." A little nudge of her chin is given toward the fire, and the camp in general indicating it. "I know I need to find better ways to de-stress. Never would have thought of this, but it's nice. Quiet out here."

Wolverine has posed:
"I'm glad t' here that," Logan answers, his words almost half-grunted - as though being sincere and empathetic take more out of him than getting incinerated by sentinel plasma blasts ever did, "An' you should keep this place in mind. There's a reason I don't live at the mansion. S'quiet out here, like y'said - peaceful, too."

He lifts an elbow, nudging her with it slightly and grinning once more: "Yer prob'ly the last person I'd a' thought would come out here. I thought you were gonna tell me t' blow it out my ass - or at the very least made up an excuse not t' come. Don't think I've ever been happier that I misjudged someone."

Siryn has posed:
"It's nice," Terri murmurs quietly again in agreement as she allows her eyes to slide half shut just indulging in the company and the warmth of the fire. At least until that little nudge. An eyebrow arches high, and she tilts her head to the side to peer back up at him with a bemused grin of her own.

"Why, because I'm a city girl? Grew up in a castle?" Here she pauses to chuckle at the mention of that old place. "Honestly that thing was so old and cold and half falling apart in places, might as well have been sleeping outside."

Joking aside she can only give a small half-felt shrug. "I'm trying new things. Never been camping before. Thought of it though, just getting away a bit. I might be used to cities, but there's no cities quite like in the States." A little nudge of her chin indicates the sky while her eyes lift in that direction. "Even in Scotland you can see the stars. Not so much here very often."

"... Honestly I did think of telling you no way. I'm glad I didn't though."

Wolverine has posed:
"Oh, I don't doubt the thought crossed yer mind," Logan admits, "I half figured, when I was suggestin' it, that I just sounded like I was tryna get you out here for my own purposes. Not my intention, a' course, but I ain't gonna pretend I don't know the reputation I have in that area. Even if everyone thinks they're only mentionin' it when I ain't around."

To emphasize his point, he taps his ear with the point of his finger and smirks. His hearing is incredible, but it's often easy to forget how good it is when he's not around to demonstrate it.

"Glad y'said yes, though," he continues, "Don't think I've found anythin' better than out here t' help forget about all this sentinel garbage an' what have you. All this time and space alone t' think."

He glances sidelong at her, "Though there's somethin' t' be said fer good company, too."

Siryn has posed:
If that reminder of his hearing and what people chat about didn't embarass her, nothing would. Which is precisely why she does duck her face down as she goes red from ear to ear trying to hide the reaction along with a rather embarassed grin. "Never joined in that talk myself but uh... Yeah. Folks've got a lot to say about you. I figure it's none of their business really."

"Och, kind of got the opposite issue meself with the hearing. Scream at one lil cockroach in your room and suddenly everyone's wondering who I'm shacking up with." She tsks at the notion, though she's clearly joking. Had that actually happened? No? Maybe. There was no way to tell. Instead she looks at her empty can of near beer. "Y'sure this isn't just a wee bit alchy?"

Lightly nudging his side with her elbow she adds, "I wouldn't have come out here alone. Wouldn't have known what to do. Thanks for having me along."

Wolverine has posed:
Logan actually laughs at that. It isn't uproarious, but he does chuckle and turn his face away for a moment to gaze out into the dark. He lifts his shoulders into a bit of a shrug, taking another sip from the can and rubbing his chin - the bristly hair scraping noisily over his palm.

"Well, I appreciate y' weren't feedin' fuel on the fire," he explains, "But I'm jus' givin' you fair warnin' - anytime I got anywhere, people go assumin' I'm up t' no good. Y' might get a little a' that by proxy."

The story of screaming at a cockroach only prompts another laugh from him - and an actual snort, to boot. He looks down at the can, turning it in his hand curiously.

"I mean, they said it was alcohol free - an' even if it weren't, it'd have to be Asgardian ale t' get me rollin'. Maybe this is just one a' those good times they talk about?"

He reaches out a hand, still looking into the fire, and brushes her elbow as it nudges him.

Siryn has posed:
It was impossible not to join in the laughter just a bit. It was rather a silly moment after all. A hand scrubs over her face to try and chase away that sure tell of embarassment off her cheeks. That was a problem with being both a redhead and a Scot -- Pale skin that turned red at the drop of a hat. The grin she wears is quite genuine though as she risks a look back in his direction. Green eyes sparkling with the firelight she flashes her own teeth at him in a grin.

"Ah I think we're safe unless I drink a barrel of it," she reasons before tipping her own can to try and read the miniscule printing on the side. "Can't read it in this light any how." With a shrug it's tossed in the air a single time, caught, and then smooshed down against the rock beneath her crushing it with her palm.

"Could use some more good times. I'll take what there is for now though." The light brush to her elbow earns a little shiver, and she turns her attention back toward the fire going quiet for a few momenths. It was nice just being here.

"I suppose should turn in at some point."

Wolverine has posed:
Logan glances back over his shoulder at the tent, jutting out his lower lip and then looking up at the sky as it can be seen through the breach in the canopy of trees that make up this clearing. He nods his head slowly, shrugs his shoulders, and slaps both empty palms down upon his thighs.

"Yer prob'ly right about that," he agrees, "Gettin' cold enough this time a' year, a fire ain't gonna help much. Best t' get rugged up in that sleepin' bag a' yours."

He jerks his head in the direction of the tent, "Good quality gear, too. Borrowed it from the basement."

His hand withdrawn, he slowly moves to climb to his feet, "I'm gonna post up against that tree over there. Good thing about livin' the way I have, I can sleep pretty much anywhere."

Siryn has posed:
Theresa Cassidy follows the glance back to the tent, and then over to the tree he had apparently picked for himself with a little crinkle of her nose. "See now, that's what most of the talking about you is over, you wild man you," she jests with a grin. Of course her own notion of sleeping did sound pretty good about now. Most of the tension had eased out of her during their talk just enjoying the fire and company.

Drawing her legs back in toward herself she tucks them under her and rises up to stand. A quick smack of her own hands dusts off her sides, and rear, to get any dirt, twigs, or what not off. "If you..."

The words die out before getting very far. Instead she turns to stride for the tent stepping out of the warmth of the firelight. Each footstep crunches just a bit before she comes up to the tent resting a hand just atop the light canvas of it's surface.

Sidelong she tips her head back in his direction, face obscured by the fall of her red hair. "It is pretty cold, Logan. Y'don't have to freeze just to prove you're a tough guy. Tent's big enough. If you want to share."

Wolverine has posed:
The question gives Logan pause. He's moved a little out of the firelight's circle, his features mostly obscured by the darkness now so that even if his expression were readable at the best of times, it cannot be seen. Despite the cold weather, he doesn't seem to shake or shiver. Even sitting alongside, him by the fire showed that he radiated heat like a small furnace, his metabolism charging along at a clip.

"Huh," he begins, tilting his head to look at the tent, opening his mouth as if to object before he says something else - an answer he didn't expect to give, "Yeah. Yeah, sounds good."

He steps back into the firelight, moving past the campfire and nudging the rocks with his boot just to make sure they're set, and the small blaze won't go creeping in the night. Satisfied, he steps over to the tent and alongside Theresa.

"After you."

Siryn has posed:
After the offer is made Terri stands by the tent just regarding him quietly. At least until he agrees. A faint hint of a smile comes in response, and she tips her head in a light nod. Just two adults. Being reasonable. About a tent. Yes. Even if her offer had surprised her as well, she did feel better knowing he wasn't sleeping out in the freezing cold on the ground. Even if he said he was used to it. She would have felt guilty most of the night, and likely well after.

When he joins her she chuckles quietly at his urging to go first. Without a word she ducks down to slip inside the tent using her hands to pat around till she found the rolled out sleeping bag. Her weight shifts swinging her over to sit near the top so she can tug off her boots, and tuck them to the side before she risks slipping in between the covers until she is suitably comfortable.

Wriggling a hand free she pulls the top back to give him room to join with a quip of, "Guess I ought to warn you I've been told I have really cold feet."

Wolverine has posed:
"I wouldn't worry 'bout it," Logan's own boots are kicked off at the door, left sitting outside as he hunches over and follows Theresa into the confines of the tent, "Way my metabolism runs, I might as well be a hot water bottle."

When he climbs beneath the covers, the truth of his words is made manifest. There is a heat to him that would seem feverish in anybody else - the reason he can walk around in a t-shirt when its ten degrees outside suddenly clear. He doesn't intentionally brush up against his impromptu tentmate, but the confines make it more or less impossible to avoid.

"Y'know," he says once he's beneath them, propping himself up on one elbow, "Now they're def'nitely gonna talk."

Siryn has posed:
Well of course he was warm, they were by the fire! That was just the heat radiating off him from the flames... Right? Except when he gets beneath the covers, and she feels that burning warmth coming from him making her realize just how much of that was apparently him and not the flames. "Holy mother Mary. You could rent yourself out as a bed warmer!"

Terri lays there a moment, then clears her throat. "That did not sound right at all." At least it earns a grin from her at her own silly phrasing. There's a little shifting around on her part as well mainly to tug the length of her hair out from beneath her to toss to the side away from him. It's the posture and remark that earn a little grin in his direction from where she lays beside him.

"What, are you gonna tell? They spying on us?" Her tongue clicks lightly in teasing reproach before going quieter once more. "I promise I shall protect your honor and stuff," she quips finally.

Wolverine has posed:
"Y'know how my memory is," Logan says with a low chuckle, "Chances are I'll forget it all anyway - but no, I won't be tellin'."

He pauses for a moment, taking in the strangeness of the situation a little bit. It certainly hadn't been his agenda when he's invited Theresa camping, but now he almost wonders if it was and he had just pretended not to notice? Either way, he keeps himself propped up on one elbow.

"Truth told, I don't think this is gonna be somethin' I get even close t' forgettin', Red. An' I'm glad my honor's safe wit' you." He grins.

Siryn has posed:
Theresa Cassidy bites her lower lip lightly regarding him when he remains propped up like that. He couldn't see in the dark, could he? The light of the fire was still there but dimmed significantly through the canvas of the tent. She could barely make out more of him than a shadowy outline as her eyes weren't quite adjusted yet. Just hints here and there, differences in the depth of darkness, enough to know his eyes were still open and watching her.

"It was a reall nice evening," she murmers quietly. "I'm good with leavin it at that for now." The rustle of fabric dragging against fabric is the only warning before her hand reaches out to poke his chest lightly with her fingertips giving a miniscule nudge as if attempting to push him over. "Get some sleep before I do something stupid."

You know, other than moving her feet over to the heat of his. Icy cold toes!

Wolverine has posed:
Logan could see in the dark. Another small facet of his semi-animalistic physiology that doesn't get talked about all that often because it isn't claws or being able to shrug off most serious injuries. He does note the bite of her lip, though he has the courtesy not to say anything. For all intents and purposes, he was as blind in the dark as Theresa was.

"Yer prob'ly right," he agrees, though he sounds less sure about it himself, "Don't wanna go messin' with a good thing."

When her hand pokes his chest, it finds solid muscle atop a metal skeleton - all in all, a stubborn and heavy object. Nevertheless, he plays along and rolls with it until he slumps down and is laying on his back. His hands fold on his stomach, staring up at the canvas fold of the tent.

"G'night, darlin'."

Siryn has posed:
Theresa Cassidy rolls onto her side away from Logan when he settles down. One arm tucks beneath her head, and the other just rests her hand on the elbow of that arm keeping herself nice and tucked comfortably warm. At least for a few moments.

There's a little shimmy of movement from her as she backs up till her back is pressed against his side. Once situated there she relaxes again quite clearly enjoying his extra heat tendancy. Might as well enjoy it a bit.

"Good night, Logan."