New scents were every where. Flowers. Dirt. Wood. Oils. Stains. Metal. The boy just stared around the large entrance hall for a few moments before he brought a rough hand up to scratch his dark, messy hair, dropping his pack to the ground. He whistled before his attention was pulled towards one of the far corners in the room.
His nostrails flared as the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. The scent of a light sweat mixed with something else bombared his senses, before a tall boy entered the room. He put himself into a defensive possition as he eyed him over.
Threat. Cautious... kill now, ask later.
He shook away the thoughts out of his head, forcing himself to calm down. Easing out of his stance, he looked the boy over again. Tall and scrawny, though looks could be decieving. The way he moved screamed with practiced movements and grace only long hours of training could attain.
"Hey bub," he grunted out. He ran his tongue over his teeth, feeling his sharp kanines as he went back to looking the room over.
"See anything you like?" the boy asked. He commited the voice to memory: a little high to be a true tenor, but a little low to be an alto. "It's Layton, right?"
"Logan," he rolled his eyes, his attention drawn back to the boy. "No offence or nothin', but how the fuck didja get Layton outta Logan?"
"Logan," a stern voice said. He looked up quickly to see who had addressed him without him knowing. It was rare someone could sneak under his senses. "You mustn't use that type of language here." His eyes fell onto an old, bald man in a wheel chair.
Defenceless, weak. Protect him, follow him...
"Sorry bub," he said weakly. One thing he hated to do, appologising.
"That's quite alright," the bald man came forwards on his wheel chair, and stopped infront of him. "I'm Professor Charles Xavier, and this is Hank Mcoy. The other students-"
"You mean mutants?" Logan interrupted rudely. The boy, Hank, glared slightly, supressing a grin.
"I prefer the term 'gifted children'," the Professor smiled. "But call them what you will... most of the younger ones are out in the grounds some where, and Ororo is-"
"Sleeping," it was Hank's turn to interrupt. "She was up at the crack of dawn again, cooking like usual. Sent her off to bed after she made enough for the household. Logan can meet her when she wakes up, I'm sure."
"Yes, yes," the Professor nodded. "Well, at least she's sleeping soundly today... but I have work to do. Hank, would you be so kind as to give Logan the grand tour?"
"Of course," Hank nodded.
"Very good," the Professor turned back to Logan, who had just stood there awkwardly the entire time, feeling like an intruder. He had a sneaking suspision it would be awhile before that feeling left... "You'll be sharing a room with Hank for now, but your room will be finished renovation by the time school starts. Dinner is at six. Behave." Without another word, the Professor wheeled away. Logan watched him, a bemused expression on his face that he quickly shook away.
"Hungry?" he looked back up to Hank again. "Come on... I'll show you the kitchen first." He hurried off. Logan watched him go, rolling his eyes when the teen went off explaining things, barely noticing he wasn't there. He closed his eyes and opened his senses.
Beast. Cautious, threat...
Logan growled at the throughts. 'Is that all I can come up with for a too tall teenager?' He focused harder for something for more deffinate...
Attack! Let out, go. Beast!
His growls grew. Taking a deep breathe, he choose to instead focus on his surroundings. Maybe that would make him get a better reading from the 'Beast', Hank.
Quiet. Peaceful, safe, warm. Unknown...
Flowers. Pure rain, winds. Desert snow.
His eyes snapped open as he caught the smell of a horrible purfume, just in time to see a girl appear at the top of the stairs. She stopped as she noticed him, cocking her head to the side innocently. She was dressed in a pair of jeans and a faded shirt, but what got him what her hair... perfect snow white hair, a stark contrast to her dark skin.
"Your the new recruit?" she asked.
High alto with a clear ring to it. Sounded sweet to his sensitive ears.
"Logan," he said gruffly, seemingly done analysising her. He reached down to grab his pack before he sniffed the air. Beneath the smells of her horrible purfume he caught the thin fragrance of what could of been vanilla... he tried again before he caught the musky scent of Hank, and started to follow it.
"And where are you going?" she asked. He disappeared down the hall. "Hey!" he turned around, shocked that her voice could be so close already... he was even more shocked to see her land gracefully on the ground, looking at him pointedly. "Aren't you going to answer me?"
"Some Hank fella's takin' me ta the kitchen," he muttered, starting on his way again. "But I stayed behind a bit... now I getta catch up."
"I'll take you," the girl offered, catching up to him easily. He eyed her long legs from the corner of her eye for a moment.
Strong, heathly. Worthy.
"Nah," he gave her a lopsided shrug, before entering the kitchen, almost running into Hank. "Hey there bub." He pushed past the teen, plopping himself into a stool.
"Ororo," he heard Hank say to the girl. "Your up! And I see you've met Logan," he could feel him cast a glance at him, before he continued in a hushed tone. He was probably trying to hide his voice behind his hands, too... "Well? Do ya like him?"
"He seems sort of..." the girl, Ororo, started to whisper back, just as quietly.
"Stuck up?" Logan offered. "An ass? Full of himself?" He heard them both jump. "Got good ears."
"Right..." Ororo's sweet voice entered his ears. "I was going to say self-assured."
"Because I am," Logan shrugged. "Anything to eat around here?" He listened as Ororo walked around him to the fridge and Hank sat beside him. She pulled out things to cook something or another, giving them both a look.
"Ham and cheese sandwhiches fine with both of you?" she asked, laying the ingrediants in front of them. "I don't feel like making anything fancy." Logan shrugged.
"I would love it 'Ro'," Hank said pleasantly. Logan rolled his eyes. The two continued talking, and instead of eavesdrop, he tuned them out. It was something he got used to doing. It was either that or go crazy in ever diner he went to and end up knowing every juicy detail that happened some friday night at the park.
He looked towards the windows and closed his eyes against the bright day outside. He would of found a rainy day more appropriate for his arrival... he would propably ruin all of their lives, like all the of lives of the people who had ever cared about him in the past. That was why he was here... not because he needed to take control over some mutation or another. No... he had been forced to take control of his mutation long ago, and kept it on a tight leash.
But every leash can be broken...
He shuddered as memories came to him, and pushed them back. He didn't want to remember... in fact, he would do anything to forget. This professor... he could erase memories. He would have to ask him to do that for him... if he was willing. But knowing his luck, he would be made to suffer...
"Logan?" he snapped back to attention and looked into the soft blue eyes of the girl, Ororo.
"What?" he snapped, his slate eyes glaring daggars. She backed away slightly.
Fear.
"Hank was just asking what your gift is," she said in a tiny voice. He felt guilty for making her afraid... but she shouldn't stare a beast in the eye. "Mine is-"
"Wait," he raised his hand with a sigh. "I won't get it dead on, but let me try for a ball park..." he closed his eyes again, opening his senses to her.
Purfume... mask. Dirty, ugly.
Vanilla... clean, pure. Wind, flowers. Sun shine. Happy. Sun...
Fear. Sweat, thump... thump... thump...
Logan's eyes snapped open quickly. He took a deep breathe and looked around him.
"From that you can get a ball park?" Hank's amused voice asked. Logan glared at him harshly. Hank's blue eyes flashed yellow.
Fight! Beast. Danger! Protect!
"Yeah well," Logan snarled. "Either your wearing one hellava damn collonge or you wanna beat the crap outta me. That's my ball park for you, and you..." he turned back to Ororo, leaving Hank blinking at him in confusion. "You..." he tapped his fingers against the countertop irritably, trying to make a connection. Ororo giggled, but offered him no answer.
'Damn... this heat is stiffling... wish it would rain.'
Happy, sun shine. Wind. Happy...
"Happy," Logan breathed. "Sun shine... wind... happy..."
"What?" he looked up at Ororo. Her confusion matched Hank's. "Okay... so... what's your mutation?"
"Sorry," Logan said smugly. "But I don't kiss and tell."
"I don't remember no kissing," she glared at him. Hank stiffled a laugh, and she turned to glare at him too. Logan stood up slowly, readjusting his pack on his shoulder. He didn't need a sandwhich... he could go for awhile yet without food.
"Kissing is a relationship thing," Logan explained, as if it were one of the simplist things in the world. He turned to leave. "And relationships are really on my to do list, so no kissing for you." He felt her glare on his back as he retreated.
Something clicked as he got to the door.
"Oh, and Hank? Keep your alter ego in check, okay?"