Disclaimer: Several new characters are mine, including the plot. X-Men belongs to Marvel and Fox.
Angelica: I'm glad you're finding their past relationship believable. That's why I'm having him dream all these dreams, so it is infact believable. I'm glad you like Poison to the Eye, shame it's not very popular, I really like it and intend to go far with it.. but if it's not well liked..
Kimenomi: I write about his dreams to make the story more believable and realistic. I don't want Logan to seem like a hollow character. I don't write hollowness. I write comprehensively and detailed with all characters as best I can. He needs these dreams so readers believe he did infact have a close and loving relationship with Roxanne - as others have said; now they genuinely believe the pair were together. And yes, I do find them interesting, why shouldn't I? I'm filling in important holes. /rant x.x
Blix: Hiya! I'm glad you liked it. The 'aaawing' was all I could think of as I ended the chapter. Simply 'aw!'
Kjl24: Thank you. That's exactly what the dreams are intending to do. Shed light on what they had and make you understand their past relationship. Thanks for seeing that.
Omala: Aye, sad dream. Those their matters do improve after all that with Henry, you'll get insight later on (:
Chapter 43The bitter coldness of surrounding Canada greeted Logan as his eyes shot open in the dim darkness of the evening. With Logan never covering himself with the thick blankets of the bed he had been awoken into a cold environment, the snow lapping at the windows in gentle flakes. His head turned slowly as his eyes drifted upon the clock on the wall of the room. It was 7.13 pm. Immediately he frowned, he went to sleep at around 9 pm.. had he really slept through an entire day? As he pushed himself up to sit upright he contemplated the possibility of his lengthy slumber. It was feasible.. he was highly exhausted and the alcohol had weakened his mind and system.
Logan rose stiffly from the bed, his limbs cracking heavily as usual when he stretched his body tall. He relaxed after the stretch, rubbing over his face slowly. His eyes happened upon the window once more, watching the landscape that never failed to impress him. He lumbered slowly into the small pokey en-suite the room had, running the cold water, which sputtered from its tap before running smoothly. The water was splashed over his face, drops also dampening the front of his hair. He straightened to glare in an intimidating manner at his reflection in the wall mirror, a scowl already on his face, frown fixed in place even since he woke. How would he ever stop frowning? He'd always be angry at his loss, saddened of course, but angry with the Strykers and the government.
With another sigh, one from a line of many over the past day, Logan turned from the bathroom, running a hand through his unruly hair to attempt to neaten it before he exited the room, locking it and heading back down into the bar.
It was only late evening, and the mansion's occupants were still awake, none yet settled into beds. But that didn't mean the mansion was noisy, no, it was very quiet, as if its inhabitants had vacated the old building. But one room of the mansion was certainly occupied. Rogue sat in one of the ground level's kitchen. One of the most favored. There wasn't much activity. She merely sat with a mug of hot drink in her gloved hands whilst she stared unflinchingly out of the window opposite her seat at the breakfast table. The temperature was warm and comfortable, a plus side to her extra clothing, but there was still an uneasy chill that ran through her, and there was no questioning why. Her fists clenched gently before relaxing around the mug once more and she heavily exhaled her breath.
The door behind her was left ajar after she entered, and the next entry was made with little noise. But Rogue heard the tiles of the floor be met by footsteps, but she didn't bother to look behind her, she didn't particularly care who had come to see her.
"Rogue?" came a voice from behind her.
Rogue visibly sighed as she recognized the voice, "Yes, Bobby?"
"Are you alright?" the mutant asked with a worried voice, he stepped cautiously towards her, ultimately reaching the breakfast table and standing by her side.
A soft chuckle escaped Rogue dryly in the snort of a snort, "I'm absolutely wonderful," she muttered hollowly.
Bobby watched the blue tiled top quietly at her answer, "I'm sorry Rogue," he murmured, not sure what he was apologizing for, but he felt as though he needed to.
"Yeah," said Rogue in a shaky voice, "I'm sorry too.. Sorry that Logan was took away from me,"
A rise of jealously quickly maneuvered Bobby into action, "Rogue, you never had him," came the cutting reply.
Rogue had stillened in her seat before her face turned to Bobby with an incensed expression, "You know nothing of what I shared with Logan," uttered Rogue in a hissed breath, "Nothing." She spun from the seat, exiting the kitchen with quickly done steps and a speedy breath of anger fuelling her.
However, her coarse of direction sent her right into the path of Gambit, and the pair collided as Rogue speeded round the corner. Gambit blinked a little, looking down at her, "Rogue! Chere!" he cried warmly, his hands settling upon her shoulders.
But Rogue threw his arms away and shoved him out of her way with a growl, "Get away from me, rat." Gambit, surprised at her attitude, stumbled back against the wood of the wall and watched wide-eyed as the young woman stormed past with with fiery anger lighting her eyes.
The inside of the bar had darkened with the evening and the sultry glow of lamps filled the room. Smoke drifted through the dim radiance, unfurling into the atmosphere. People had swiftly entered as the night wore on, the curtains at the far end of the bar opened and the cage fighting was getting ready to begin. Logan blew out more floating plumes of smoke from a cigar. He was shocked he had managed to keep them in his jacket let alone intact. Logan had eased on the drink that night, sticking with a safer bottle of beer. But by no means was he content. Outside he looked as confident and as ready as the next man, but inside he was crumbling away and whining for lost love.
From his position he studied the currently empty cage from a distance with a thoughtful expression. He remembered his old days, they were certainly different to the life he had now. But at times, those fights were thoroughly enjoyable; they quenched the thirst for battle whilst providing temporary relief from his constant angst and torment of Alkali Lake. His thoughts were briefly interrupted when a figure caught his eyes slipping in from the entrance of the bar and disappearing into the throb of the crowd heading towards the cage. Nothing too suspicious, but he felt compelled to look in that direction when the person entered. He saw nothing of the person, no distinct features that he should recognize in one glimpse.
Logan turned his head back to the cage as a voice started from it. "Back again people!" called the voice from the speakers as the boss of the bar entered the middle of the cage and gestured animatedly to the growing audience, "Here tonight for more battles and see who is going to be the Kiiiiing of the caaaage!"
The audience whooped and yelled their enthusiasm to the ringleader. Logan merely took a sip of his beer as he sat at the now relatively sparse bar, since most customers had eagerly headed over to watch the cage fighting.
"Here's the man you all fear!" cried the ringleader into his microphone, waving his arm enthusiastically, "He's beaten many opponents to reach his title, dropped out before arriving back to smash everybody down! He told me he's here to stay this time!" The audience cried out heartedly. "Iiiit's Hacksaaaaw!" he bellowed in a drawn out tone to his audience. The audience erupted into a mix of boos and cheers as a man entered slowly into the door of the cage before he raised his arms powerfully to the crowd and roared his approval.
Logan watched from across the room with a certain unimpressed face. 'Hacksaw' was a tall man, lean built but muscles had formed over his bones which where now tighten in bragging clenches to the crowd's noise. Logan downed the rest of his beer, still watching from his seat.
The audience had doubled their cheering as a man volunteered from the audience to fight the supposed 'deadly Hacksaw'. Logan smirked slightly as the bell chimed as Hacksaw spun on his feet to dance around like some boxing champion before the opponent. He jabbed and took fake punches at the air before nipping against the skin of the opponent who just threw his fists in an angry desperation. Logan was expecting some decent viewing, until Hacksaw suddenly raised his fist and uppercut the man before kicking him down with a frenzied scream of approval from the audience. The man slumped to the floor with a groan before laying still and dazed for a few moments. Then he slowly rose to his feet with little help, defeatedly slumping away into some dark corner to nurse his ego and head.
"Hacksaw has won again!" cried the ringleader triumphantly, "Come on people, place your bets, can anybody ever beat the amazing, the incredible Hacksaw?!"
Placing his cigar into an ashtray, stubbing out the lit end, Logan raised his head. A gleam had taken to his eyes as he watched the cage. A sly smirk drifting across his lips.
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