Fic - First Impressions - Logan
Author: Lucinda
Rating: PG 13 I guess. a few bad words, mentions of violence.
Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Men or any other Marvel characters.
They are owned by Stan Lee, Marvel Comics, and the movie belongs to
Fox - I think. But not me.
Distribution: If you want it, just keep my name with it.
Feedback is very welcome. Otherwise, I'll think nobody cares what
comes next.
Pairing: none yet - this are Logan's perpective of the beginning of
the X-Men movie. THIS ISN'T LOGAN/MARIE - I promise.
Had another fight in the cage tonight. Stupid.....the guy I
fought, the guy runnin' the cage. Great way to vent some
frustration, but it gives me strange dreams. But, what choice have
I got? Real jobs - hell, I don't even know if I know how to do any
real jobs. Let alone how to answer some of the questions you have
to answer. Questions like - full name, date of birth, education.
Do I even have an education? I can't remember anything from Before
when I'm awake. I have dreams - maybe memories that show up when i'm
asleep, but they aen't anything I can use to learn who I am - or at
least, who I was.
Makes me wonder somethimes. What am I? Right now, I'm a guy
without a past. With claws in my hands. Who never gets sick. Who
heals from anything. Am I even human? What else could I be? I
think there are hints of my past in my dreams. I prefer the ones
that just confuse me - show me faces of people, places - places all
around the world. There's also fighting...maybe I've just seen to
many war movies? Better the confusing fragments than the other ones.
The Nightmares - there's a laboratory. Big, expensive. State of
the art - more gadgets and machines than you need to direct air
traffic. In the center, there's a big tube full of some cold
liquid. I'm floating inside it. I don't want to be there, I can't
get out. I know that terrible things will happen.... NO!!!
I'm not there. I don't want to be there in the jar again.
Ever. But I don't know quite what to do with myself either. I
don't exist apparently - nobody knows my face, I have no legal
identification.
I sit here, with my beer, thinking my thoughts. Hell, brooding
on my non-past would be more accurate. Time to go soon. Never stay
in one place to long...can't ever get comfortable. Where to go next?
There's a kid in here. She's young, maybe 15. Pretty, I guess.
She's all bundled up in layers of clothing - not just for the
weather either. Girl stinks of fear - fear and shame. She's
running away from something. Something bad and scary happened, and
she's way out here. Scared, alone and hungry. I guess...she kinda
reminds me a bit of me, back a few years. Alone, afraid. Somebody
can help her though. She doesn't have my problem - she didn't...
Don't go there! Not gonna let myself think about the beginning.
Cage boy's here. He's angry that I beat him. I can smell his
anger, the fear under it. The gun in his hands. I slice it in half
before I even contemplate a more discrete way of handling the
situation. Bar full of witnesses too. Guess it really is time to
go.
* * * *
Hell, I must have been some kind of softie Before. That girl
was hiding in the trailer. She's sitting in the truck with me now.
She's still scared, but I don't think it's me she's afraid of - not
much anyhow. Trying to calm her down some. It bothers me that
she's afraid of me. Makes me feel like some kind of freak. But,
what else would you call a guy with metal claws but a freak?
Told her to put on her seat belt. She made a bit of a protest,
saying I wasn't wearing one. I'm not. Won't wear one. The straps
locking me into place.. brings back bad almost memories. No
specifics, just - being strapped down, unable to get away - it's
bad. Bsides, I'll heal. not like I have to worry about a car crash
anyhow.
What the.... so busy trying to make her stop being afraid of
me, I didn't see the tree down in the road. Got thrown forward, out
the front window into the snow. Skidded a ways. I stand up,
rolling my shoulders a bit to get the kink out. Where's the kid?
She's still in the truck... she's afraid again. And the damn seat
belt's stuck. I knew they were bad, trap you down so you can't get
away...
Inhale... musky scent. Furs, danger, violence... I know that
scent. From... before. The claws slide out. He's trouble, and
dangerous, and who is this scent? How in hell do I recognize it?
Next thing I know, this huge fur clad thing jumps from the
trees. This is the source of that scent. I catch sight of his face
in the brief fight.. reddish blond mane.. dark eyes. Fangs. I have
seen this face before.
Airborne - cat guy hit me with a tree. Can't let him get the
girl..he's trouble, he'll hurt her bad. Where am I going to land? I
will not let you hurt this one you sick.....
With a thud, Logan hit the hood of the truck and was still.
end part one.
Logan awoke. He kept his eyes closed, trying to catch up - what
happened? Cage fight, left bar...Marie. Snow, fighting the almost
familiar fanged man. Then pain and blackness. His shirt was gone,
and he was on a cold metal table. He could smell disinfectant,
rubber...metals. He was in a medical facility of some sort. This
was bad. Logan could feel little moniters glued to his torso. He
could smell a woman - faint scent of makeup, hairspray, floral
perfume, and her underneath it all. Woman, adult, calm, slightly
curious. She was the only other person in the lab.
A needle entered his arm. He had a flash of images - needle, ice
flowing into his flesh, sliding into cold liquid..... Voices in the
background murmering long,scientific words, machines humming and
beeping..... NO!! He sprang of the table and had his arm around the
woman's throat in an instant, her red hair obscuring his view a bit.
A low growl rumbled in his throat. He could smell her fear and
confusion rising off her in waves. There was no traces of the
fanged man's scent.
There was no glass cylinder. The lab was much smaller. No large
banks of beeping machinery. That meant.. he wasn't there. He was in
a different lab, and this redhaired woman wasn't somebody who had
done... whatever he kept having those flashes about. He had to get
out of here now. He dropped the woman to the floor and bolted out
the door.
He was in a polished metallic corridor - bright lights lined the
wall at the floor, and ceiling, as well as two strips along the
middle of the ceiling as well. The walls and floor were polished to
the point of reflecting, if imperfectly. He didn't notice any
security cameras. The tide of panicked confusion continued to rise
inside him. He had to get out of here. Why had he been brought here?
By who's orders? Logan ducked into an alcove, trying to figure a
plan. How do you get out of a place when you don't even know how
you got in?
He had to get more information. He moved carefully down the
hallway. It looked the same, polished floors, lights in solid bars
across the walls and ceilings. He realized the hall opened up a
bit. It became almost a room. he looked around, trying to figure
out what was going on. There were strange uniforms, sleek black
leather on stands behind glass panels. He could smell the scents of
their owners on them. Looked almost like people in tubes... he
repressed a tremor. One of them smelled like the redhead from the
lab, the others were unfamiliar scents. There was a bit of the wall
slightly ajar beside one of the leather outfits. A careful look
revealed folded sweat pants, and hooded shirts. He pulled one of
the shirts on to ward off the chill in the air.
Logan had a suspicion that this lab and corridor were
underground - that was more secure, and less detectable. Harder to
escape from. There was an elevator. An elevator? He decided to try
it - he didn't see how it could get him into any more trouble.
The elevator opened, and he was in.. a mansion. Elegant,
tasteful...expensive. Logan stepped out of the elevator, and moved
down the hallway. This one was panelled in dark wood, hung with
paintings, and had expensive vases on small tables. There were many
scents in this hall - a large number of people had been through
here. The only oone he recognized was the scent of the red-head in
the lab. He was feeling more confused now.
He could hear voices approaching. He ducked behind a large
column, trying to figure out what was going on. Where was he? Was
he actually awake, or was this another dream? As he stood behind
the column, a large group of teenagers moved by, going down the
hall. They were laughing, talking. They sounded normal,
oblivious. Didn't they realize they were walking on top of a secret
facility? Had they no idea of the danger?
* this way...* he thought he heard a man's voice. He sounded
amused. There was nobody else in the hall now. He moved across the
empty space, his stomach tensing. Something was going to happen. He
felt a doorhandle behind him, and before he realized, he had opened
the door, slipped in, closed it, and turned to face the room he was
now in.
It looked almost like a private study or office. Carpeting, a
few plants in pots, shelves of books. The image was shaken by the
people. There were more teenagers. They looked startled. A bald
man sat behind a desk, gesturing at a chalkboard with strange shapes
diagramed onto it. Small letters and numbers were off to the side of
the shapes.
Apparently, his arrival was unexpected enough to bring an end
the lesson. The kids were probably Marie's age, Logan realized.
They all left the room, edging around him nervously. One of the
girls stopped about halfway across the room, and went back for her
book-bag. To Logan's surprise, she walked out through the door.
She didn't open it, just went through like a ghost.
This made no sense. It couldn't be real. To many bizarre
twists and unexpected things. He was alone in the room with the
bald man. He realized that he could smell plastics, and a metal
alloy in the room. The scent was coming from where the bald man was
sittting.
end part 2
The man behind the desk held up a thick book, gesturing at te
chalkboard with it. "Physics." He proceded to move out from behind
the desk and closer to Logan. He was in a wheelchair, the source of
the plastic and metals scent.
He was well dressed. Smelled healthy, confident. The man wasn't
afraid of Logan, in fact, seemed to have been expecting him. He was
introducing himself, and telling Logan where he was. Said his
people had brought him here. He didn't smell like the fanged man,
but... How often did the person in charge interact with every
underling? Was the fanged man one of his people?
"I don't need medical attention." Logan's voice was flat. He
was firmly repressing the panic that idea generated. Medical
attention: needles, vials of fluids from his body, machines beeping,
murmer of voices speaking medical and scientific terms. Medical
attention was the last thing Logan wanted.
He asked about Marie, wanting to know if the poor, scared kid
was okay. The man calmly assured him of her well being, and Logan
realized uncomfortably, that this man, Xavier, seemed to be fairly
unconcerned about Marie, having focussed his interest on Logan.
What did this Xavier want from him? He had fragmented glimpses
of memory - camoflage fatigues, military weapons. Waiting in the
belly of an airplane with other people. Stalking.. something..
through trees and snow. He felt as if the walls were closing in.
Logan took a deep breath. Must remain calm..observe the situation,
gather intelligence.
The door behind Logan opened. A man walked in, looking past
Logan towards Xavier. He was tallish, brown hair. Very precise,
dark clothing, slightly disapproving neutral expression. He had
glistening red sunglasses over his eyes. He glanced at Logan,
giving Logan the definate impression that he was being compared to a
standard and found lacking. He heard Xavier say this was
Scott... underlying tones and scents saying this was his second in
command, one of his people. Fragments of images flickered through
logan's mind. Men in suits, military officers, people in
labcoats... Scott smelled like he'd been in recent close contact
with the red haired woman. Logan didn't like him.
The scent of the next person was more interesting. A woman, she
smelled like sandalwood, growing plants, and a crisp wind. She
smelled like serenity and calm. She entered the room. A tall
woman, with white hair, and skin like cocoa. Her eyes were the blue
of a clear sky. She was lovely.. exotic. The most self contained
seeming person he could ever remember meeting. Xavier said she was
Ororo Munroe, called Storm. Logan couldn't quite figure out he
Storm bit, but, yes Ororo fit her. A wisp of memory told him the
name meant 'beautiful one' in some language he could almost remember
the name of. She was looking at him, her expression calm,
unreadable. He wondered what she saw when she looked at him.
" I believe you've already met Doctor Jean Grey." The Professor
spoke again, as the red haired woman came into the room. She looked
at him as she came in and walked past him to stand behind Xavier.
She was in a clingy red shirt... had that been under the labcoat? It
was the woman from the lab. She looked as if she was holding it
against him that he'd half choked her when he woke up. He watched
her cross the room. She was a doctor... never trust a doctor.
especially not one who put needles into his arm. He made a mental
resolution to always keep track of Jean - God only knew what she did
in that lab.
end part 3.
Logan was listening as Xavier explained about this place. A
school for mutants to learn about theirselves. A place where they
could learn their abilities safely, without judgement and fear,
according to Xavier. As they toured the grounds, Logan listened
carefully - not just to Xavier, but to the rest of the poeple. How
did they sound? The scents of his new surroundings..
It turns out this place was real, Logan thought to himself. He
had worried that this might be some sort of elaborate set up when
Xavier mentioned his memory loss. He was still a bit suspicious,
even after Xavier had said he was a telepath, someone that could
read minds, and control them.
He still suspected Xavier had influenced him to get him to agree
to those damn lab tests. That was part of what made him sure this
was real. The testing... always testing. They had found the metal
of his bones, called it adamantium. Learned about his rapid healing,
figuring that was how he'd survived getting the metal in his bones
to begin with. needles, tubes of cold fluid .... no. not gonna go
there again. They didn't know about his senses yet. He figured
that could wait.
I'm awake, this place is real, the sounds, the scents.. It
seems to perfect. Big house, well cared for grounds. Scents of
green grass, oak and maple trees, dozens of types of flowers. The
students were playing outside, some of them displaying abilities
Logan had never seen before. They seemd to be happy living here.
They walked past a room, a glance through the showed rows of kids
sitting, shelves of books, some plants. He could smell Marie, and
the girl that had gone through the door... Ororo was in there,
smelling like sandalwood and spring rain. He could hear her voice
talking about the Roman empire.
Maybe this place really was all it claimed to be. It certainly
would be different. He wouldn't have to worry that he would be
considered a freak - he wasn't more of one than anyone else here.
And it had a few appeals - the grounds were lovely, the food had to
be better, and he could learn more about the mysterious Ororo.
Yeah, Xavier's just might be the plaace to stay a while and
try to figure some things out.
end part 4. end First Impressions - Logan.
Author: Lucinda
Rating: PG 13 I guess. a few bad words, mentions of violence.
Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Men or any other Marvel characters.
They are owned by Stan Lee, Marvel Comics, and the movie belongs to
Fox - I think. But not me.
Distribution: If you want it, just keep my name with it.
Feedback is very welcome. Otherwise, I'll think nobody cares what
comes next.
Pairing: none yet - this are Logan's perpective of the beginning of
the X-Men movie. THIS ISN'T LOGAN/MARIE - I promise.
Had another fight in the cage tonight. Stupid.....the guy I
fought, the guy runnin' the cage. Great way to vent some
frustration, but it gives me strange dreams. But, what choice have
I got? Real jobs - hell, I don't even know if I know how to do any
real jobs. Let alone how to answer some of the questions you have
to answer. Questions like - full name, date of birth, education.
Do I even have an education? I can't remember anything from Before
when I'm awake. I have dreams - maybe memories that show up when i'm
asleep, but they aen't anything I can use to learn who I am - or at
least, who I was.
Makes me wonder somethimes. What am I? Right now, I'm a guy
without a past. With claws in my hands. Who never gets sick. Who
heals from anything. Am I even human? What else could I be? I
think there are hints of my past in my dreams. I prefer the ones
that just confuse me - show me faces of people, places - places all
around the world. There's also fighting...maybe I've just seen to
many war movies? Better the confusing fragments than the other ones.
The Nightmares - there's a laboratory. Big, expensive. State of
the art - more gadgets and machines than you need to direct air
traffic. In the center, there's a big tube full of some cold
liquid. I'm floating inside it. I don't want to be there, I can't
get out. I know that terrible things will happen.... NO!!!
I'm not there. I don't want to be there in the jar again.
Ever. But I don't know quite what to do with myself either. I
don't exist apparently - nobody knows my face, I have no legal
identification.
I sit here, with my beer, thinking my thoughts. Hell, brooding
on my non-past would be more accurate. Time to go soon. Never stay
in one place to long...can't ever get comfortable. Where to go next?
There's a kid in here. She's young, maybe 15. Pretty, I guess.
She's all bundled up in layers of clothing - not just for the
weather either. Girl stinks of fear - fear and shame. She's
running away from something. Something bad and scary happened, and
she's way out here. Scared, alone and hungry. I guess...she kinda
reminds me a bit of me, back a few years. Alone, afraid. Somebody
can help her though. She doesn't have my problem - she didn't...
Don't go there! Not gonna let myself think about the beginning.
Cage boy's here. He's angry that I beat him. I can smell his
anger, the fear under it. The gun in his hands. I slice it in half
before I even contemplate a more discrete way of handling the
situation. Bar full of witnesses too. Guess it really is time to
go.
* * * *
Hell, I must have been some kind of softie Before. That girl
was hiding in the trailer. She's sitting in the truck with me now.
She's still scared, but I don't think it's me she's afraid of - not
much anyhow. Trying to calm her down some. It bothers me that
she's afraid of me. Makes me feel like some kind of freak. But,
what else would you call a guy with metal claws but a freak?
Told her to put on her seat belt. She made a bit of a protest,
saying I wasn't wearing one. I'm not. Won't wear one. The straps
locking me into place.. brings back bad almost memories. No
specifics, just - being strapped down, unable to get away - it's
bad. Bsides, I'll heal. not like I have to worry about a car crash
anyhow.
What the.... so busy trying to make her stop being afraid of
me, I didn't see the tree down in the road. Got thrown forward, out
the front window into the snow. Skidded a ways. I stand up,
rolling my shoulders a bit to get the kink out. Where's the kid?
She's still in the truck... she's afraid again. And the damn seat
belt's stuck. I knew they were bad, trap you down so you can't get
away...
Inhale... musky scent. Furs, danger, violence... I know that
scent. From... before. The claws slide out. He's trouble, and
dangerous, and who is this scent? How in hell do I recognize it?
Next thing I know, this huge fur clad thing jumps from the
trees. This is the source of that scent. I catch sight of his face
in the brief fight.. reddish blond mane.. dark eyes. Fangs. I have
seen this face before.
Airborne - cat guy hit me with a tree. Can't let him get the
girl..he's trouble, he'll hurt her bad. Where am I going to land? I
will not let you hurt this one you sick.....
With a thud, Logan hit the hood of the truck and was still.
end part one.
Logan awoke. He kept his eyes closed, trying to catch up - what
happened? Cage fight, left bar...Marie. Snow, fighting the almost
familiar fanged man. Then pain and blackness. His shirt was gone,
and he was on a cold metal table. He could smell disinfectant,
rubber...metals. He was in a medical facility of some sort. This
was bad. Logan could feel little moniters glued to his torso. He
could smell a woman - faint scent of makeup, hairspray, floral
perfume, and her underneath it all. Woman, adult, calm, slightly
curious. She was the only other person in the lab.
A needle entered his arm. He had a flash of images - needle, ice
flowing into his flesh, sliding into cold liquid..... Voices in the
background murmering long,scientific words, machines humming and
beeping..... NO!! He sprang of the table and had his arm around the
woman's throat in an instant, her red hair obscuring his view a bit.
A low growl rumbled in his throat. He could smell her fear and
confusion rising off her in waves. There was no traces of the
fanged man's scent.
There was no glass cylinder. The lab was much smaller. No large
banks of beeping machinery. That meant.. he wasn't there. He was in
a different lab, and this redhaired woman wasn't somebody who had
done... whatever he kept having those flashes about. He had to get
out of here now. He dropped the woman to the floor and bolted out
the door.
He was in a polished metallic corridor - bright lights lined the
wall at the floor, and ceiling, as well as two strips along the
middle of the ceiling as well. The walls and floor were polished to
the point of reflecting, if imperfectly. He didn't notice any
security cameras. The tide of panicked confusion continued to rise
inside him. He had to get out of here. Why had he been brought here?
By who's orders? Logan ducked into an alcove, trying to figure a
plan. How do you get out of a place when you don't even know how
you got in?
He had to get more information. He moved carefully down the
hallway. It looked the same, polished floors, lights in solid bars
across the walls and ceilings. He realized the hall opened up a
bit. It became almost a room. he looked around, trying to figure
out what was going on. There were strange uniforms, sleek black
leather on stands behind glass panels. He could smell the scents of
their owners on them. Looked almost like people in tubes... he
repressed a tremor. One of them smelled like the redhead from the
lab, the others were unfamiliar scents. There was a bit of the wall
slightly ajar beside one of the leather outfits. A careful look
revealed folded sweat pants, and hooded shirts. He pulled one of
the shirts on to ward off the chill in the air.
Logan had a suspicion that this lab and corridor were
underground - that was more secure, and less detectable. Harder to
escape from. There was an elevator. An elevator? He decided to try
it - he didn't see how it could get him into any more trouble.
The elevator opened, and he was in.. a mansion. Elegant,
tasteful...expensive. Logan stepped out of the elevator, and moved
down the hallway. This one was panelled in dark wood, hung with
paintings, and had expensive vases on small tables. There were many
scents in this hall - a large number of people had been through
here. The only oone he recognized was the scent of the red-head in
the lab. He was feeling more confused now.
He could hear voices approaching. He ducked behind a large
column, trying to figure out what was going on. Where was he? Was
he actually awake, or was this another dream? As he stood behind
the column, a large group of teenagers moved by, going down the
hall. They were laughing, talking. They sounded normal,
oblivious. Didn't they realize they were walking on top of a secret
facility? Had they no idea of the danger?
* this way...* he thought he heard a man's voice. He sounded
amused. There was nobody else in the hall now. He moved across the
empty space, his stomach tensing. Something was going to happen. He
felt a doorhandle behind him, and before he realized, he had opened
the door, slipped in, closed it, and turned to face the room he was
now in.
It looked almost like a private study or office. Carpeting, a
few plants in pots, shelves of books. The image was shaken by the
people. There were more teenagers. They looked startled. A bald
man sat behind a desk, gesturing at a chalkboard with strange shapes
diagramed onto it. Small letters and numbers were off to the side of
the shapes.
Apparently, his arrival was unexpected enough to bring an end
the lesson. The kids were probably Marie's age, Logan realized.
They all left the room, edging around him nervously. One of the
girls stopped about halfway across the room, and went back for her
book-bag. To Logan's surprise, she walked out through the door.
She didn't open it, just went through like a ghost.
This made no sense. It couldn't be real. To many bizarre
twists and unexpected things. He was alone in the room with the
bald man. He realized that he could smell plastics, and a metal
alloy in the room. The scent was coming from where the bald man was
sittting.
end part 2
The man behind the desk held up a thick book, gesturing at te
chalkboard with it. "Physics." He proceded to move out from behind
the desk and closer to Logan. He was in a wheelchair, the source of
the plastic and metals scent.
He was well dressed. Smelled healthy, confident. The man wasn't
afraid of Logan, in fact, seemed to have been expecting him. He was
introducing himself, and telling Logan where he was. Said his
people had brought him here. He didn't smell like the fanged man,
but... How often did the person in charge interact with every
underling? Was the fanged man one of his people?
"I don't need medical attention." Logan's voice was flat. He
was firmly repressing the panic that idea generated. Medical
attention: needles, vials of fluids from his body, machines beeping,
murmer of voices speaking medical and scientific terms. Medical
attention was the last thing Logan wanted.
He asked about Marie, wanting to know if the poor, scared kid
was okay. The man calmly assured him of her well being, and Logan
realized uncomfortably, that this man, Xavier, seemed to be fairly
unconcerned about Marie, having focussed his interest on Logan.
What did this Xavier want from him? He had fragmented glimpses
of memory - camoflage fatigues, military weapons. Waiting in the
belly of an airplane with other people. Stalking.. something..
through trees and snow. He felt as if the walls were closing in.
Logan took a deep breath. Must remain calm..observe the situation,
gather intelligence.
The door behind Logan opened. A man walked in, looking past
Logan towards Xavier. He was tallish, brown hair. Very precise,
dark clothing, slightly disapproving neutral expression. He had
glistening red sunglasses over his eyes. He glanced at Logan,
giving Logan the definate impression that he was being compared to a
standard and found lacking. He heard Xavier say this was
Scott... underlying tones and scents saying this was his second in
command, one of his people. Fragments of images flickered through
logan's mind. Men in suits, military officers, people in
labcoats... Scott smelled like he'd been in recent close contact
with the red haired woman. Logan didn't like him.
The scent of the next person was more interesting. A woman, she
smelled like sandalwood, growing plants, and a crisp wind. She
smelled like serenity and calm. She entered the room. A tall
woman, with white hair, and skin like cocoa. Her eyes were the blue
of a clear sky. She was lovely.. exotic. The most self contained
seeming person he could ever remember meeting. Xavier said she was
Ororo Munroe, called Storm. Logan couldn't quite figure out he
Storm bit, but, yes Ororo fit her. A wisp of memory told him the
name meant 'beautiful one' in some language he could almost remember
the name of. She was looking at him, her expression calm,
unreadable. He wondered what she saw when she looked at him.
" I believe you've already met Doctor Jean Grey." The Professor
spoke again, as the red haired woman came into the room. She looked
at him as she came in and walked past him to stand behind Xavier.
She was in a clingy red shirt... had that been under the labcoat? It
was the woman from the lab. She looked as if she was holding it
against him that he'd half choked her when he woke up. He watched
her cross the room. She was a doctor... never trust a doctor.
especially not one who put needles into his arm. He made a mental
resolution to always keep track of Jean - God only knew what she did
in that lab.
end part 3.
Logan was listening as Xavier explained about this place. A
school for mutants to learn about theirselves. A place where they
could learn their abilities safely, without judgement and fear,
according to Xavier. As they toured the grounds, Logan listened
carefully - not just to Xavier, but to the rest of the poeple. How
did they sound? The scents of his new surroundings..
It turns out this place was real, Logan thought to himself. He
had worried that this might be some sort of elaborate set up when
Xavier mentioned his memory loss. He was still a bit suspicious,
even after Xavier had said he was a telepath, someone that could
read minds, and control them.
He still suspected Xavier had influenced him to get him to agree
to those damn lab tests. That was part of what made him sure this
was real. The testing... always testing. They had found the metal
of his bones, called it adamantium. Learned about his rapid healing,
figuring that was how he'd survived getting the metal in his bones
to begin with. needles, tubes of cold fluid .... no. not gonna go
there again. They didn't know about his senses yet. He figured
that could wait.
I'm awake, this place is real, the sounds, the scents.. It
seems to perfect. Big house, well cared for grounds. Scents of
green grass, oak and maple trees, dozens of types of flowers. The
students were playing outside, some of them displaying abilities
Logan had never seen before. They seemd to be happy living here.
They walked past a room, a glance through the showed rows of kids
sitting, shelves of books, some plants. He could smell Marie, and
the girl that had gone through the door... Ororo was in there,
smelling like sandalwood and spring rain. He could hear her voice
talking about the Roman empire.
Maybe this place really was all it claimed to be. It certainly
would be different. He wouldn't have to worry that he would be
considered a freak - he wasn't more of one than anyone else here.
And it had a few appeals - the grounds were lovely, the food had to
be better, and he could learn more about the mysterious Ororo.
Yeah, Xavier's just might be the plaace to stay a while and
try to figure some things out.
end part 4. end First Impressions - Logan.
