Logan heard the kids talking about just how many trains had to have run into his face to make it look the way it did and resisted the urge to snarl. He was careful to never let anyone know just how much of a sore subject his face was with him. He'd been fine with it, until some of Chuck's mind probes had started unlocking memories of what had been.

Once, Logan had been the most handsome man in town. All the ladies swooned over him, and the young dappers who spent time on clothes and careful grooming looked on with jealousy. Logan could always throw on any old thing and look better than them, and he knew it. He'd learned to charm the ladies off thier feet to the point where he'd had several propose to him, even in those distant times where it was always the man who initiated that event. He'd also had a few more forward offers, though he'd always carefully refused. He would not be one to turn the ladies from the proper path.

He'd experimented to see just what he could get away with. He'd chosen an odd, unique hairstyle in an attempt to see just how that would change things. To his surprise, it just attracted more followers. A few of the other men tried to imitate him, but the look was utterly laughable on them.

When his mutation had come, it had taken him awhile to realize that he'd stopped aging. Once he did, he left town to make a new home for himself. He had no intention of sticking around until he was accused of sorcery. He'd taken to the road, spending a few years in one town after another, and always managed to become the center of attention around the women.

After about fifty year's time, this started changing. He had been a handsome man, but he'd long since learned that cartilage in the nose and ears never stopped growing. After another ten years, when he realized just what a problem this would be if he was effectively immortal, Logan chose to do something about it. He'd seen how the wounds he received healed together nearly instantly if he held the edges together and decided to try a more precise operation. Long years on the frontier had taught him how to ignore pain, and he'd have to do that if he were to pull this off.

Logan carefully took his skinning knife and applied it to his own face, slicing away much of the cartilage from his nose and ears. Once each cut was made, he carefully held the edges against each other until they healed together. He had to make the cuts and the edges even so they looked and healed right. It took time, but he did manage to finish the job. At the end of the time, blood and tears had mixed.

He went to wash his face clean, then peered into the water. He looked as he had nearly over half a century ago. He wondered if things would be as they once were, and sure enough, all the ladies flocked to him in the next town.

Unfortunately, time and repeated operations had changed the process. With time he started using metal claws instead of a knife, but it was the same basic idea. As Logan had to repeat the operation every so many years, the original lines were lost, and he gradually acquired the boxer's nose he now had. His following had gradually left, until he was where he was now: the man with a face who looked like it had been hit by a train, stuck babysitting the kids. ____________________________________________________________________________ _______

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and please keep it coming. When I don't get reviews, I tend to assume nobody cares and quit writing. All tips have been helpful, and some of them will be seen in upcoming chapters. Unfortunately, it's probably be a while before I update. I'm sick, and I've got midterms to study for. At least I'm done with Evolution for now.