#weapnx23

[parainvestigate]

Sender: @weapnx23 Prompt: “if you need anything at all , do not hesitate to call 911 .”

“ Really said that with your whole chest. ” Authorities would be giving him a wide berth, just how things worked. Calling them would do dick.

[enrogued]

@weapnx23 sent "i can kill you with my brain."

a scrunch appears in rogue's brow as she surveys laura. the tone is...spooky, almost and while normally she thrives on spooky, this is the kind of thing that sends a shiver down her spine. kinda like her body recognises the predator even if her brain has positioned laura in the tentative role of friend. ( friends are a complicated business for both of them, she knows. so it has to be tentative. but she doesn't hate laura's company and that counts for a lot. )

then, ultimately, the ridiculousness of the notion wins out and she makes an even more disbelieving face. " is this an 'i'm smarter 'n you' kinda thing? like ya could invent a rube-goldberg-saw-trap ta kill me? sure, it ain't that hard. but far as i know ya don't have any psychic powers that might blow my brain up. ...right? "

[snkts]

[text] You said you'd be right back and it's been months

It's quiet out.

Quiet and dark.

He likes it that way. He needs it to be that way. God, why did it end up this way? Why did it always end up this way-? He didn't know. It always happened.

Always, always.

Always.

And the one constant factor is him. So is it his fault? Sure seems like it, sometimes. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, his hands were shaking. God damnit-! He pushes them through his hair to try and hide it. It doesn't work. He can still feel the tremors. Still feel the vines. The collar.

The hands.

Fuck. He closes his eyes and forces a breath. Then another, then another. He can still taste bile in the back of his throat.

Fuck Krakoa. Fuck the whole goddamn island. And you know what? Fuck the X-Men, too. How could they? How could they? How could they?! (Hadn't he been good enough? Hadn't he fought hard enough? Hadn't he tried for them? Hadn't he loved them? Not enough, not enough, not enough.)

And now he's here. Alone again. In the dark again. Lost and broken and wrong and discarded again. A broken weapon.

Again.

At least this time, he can see the stars. He can breathe clean air. He can leave if he wants to. He wants to. He wants to. He wants to.

He's been fluctuating between lucid and feral ever since he got here. The animal wants to take over - shield the human part of him, or whatever's closest, from the agony and betrayal he's been grappling with since that knife graced his throat. Logan wants that, too. It'd be easier. It'd be safer.

But he can't do that yet. He's not far enough away. Not from people, and more importantly, not from the gate. He doesn't want them to find him again, but they have Cerebro - so vanishing is a challenge, even for him. It's easier to move in cities - hoping to any God that listens, his coworkers or no, that the others won't make moves in dense population - and that means blending in with the humans; that means staying aware. That's the only reason he hasn't tossed the phone by now. Contacts needed a way to keep him up to date on movement around the gates and in the news, if he couldn't find a bar that played it - and giving off a signal didn't change anything. Not right now.

The phone in question buzzes, and he looks down. Her name flashes on the screen in big block letters. Maybe it's a good thing he hadn't tossed it yet. After all, if his little girl needed him-

...

Oh. Right. It has been a while, hasn't it? He wasn't keeping track. ... He'd left her behind.

What the fuck was wrong with him? (Where to even start?) He knows, logically, that she's safe. He wouldn't have left her if she wasn't. (Right? He wouldn't, would he?) But she'd survived Krakoa much like he had, and he'd still left her. Promised to be back and he wasn't.

God fucking damnit, Wolverine.

[TEXT -> LAURA] I'm sorry, Laura. Are you okay?

[SEND]

[wolfeign]

❝ that could have gone better. ❞

❝  IT COULD HAVE GONE WORSE TOO. ❞ he corrects, not allowing her to talk down on herself. they were only inches away from where they needed to be, still lingering in the shadows.

❝  we aren't caught yet. ❞ he reminds her, keeping his voice low. she had taken out one of the handful of guards beneath them, doing a hell of a clean job of it. she might not have thought she did a stellar job - but she had more tact than WOLVERINE did. the moment that he stepped into the field, all chaos was going to strike. he wasn't particularly good at playing it safe. the computer that they came to destroy, carrying valuable information - it was only a few paces away. heavily guarded by some men with guns. they were not the most daunting to handle. a few bullets never hurt - well, they hurt. but they would heal up quickly.

as long as there was no other mutants on the scene to cause them havoc, the two of them were going to get out of here with a mission completed. pairing the two of them together wasn't a bad play - LOGAN tended to play nice when it came to his daughter. he would sit back & give her some of the spotlight. even listen to her when it came to her ideas. much different than how he acted in a normal team setting.

[irnmade]

Would you like to make a charitable donation to the Xavier Institute? It’s a tax write-off. A dollar a day keeps a mutant child from joining The Brotherhood.

　　　❝ SAM SAYS I SHOULD DO MORE PHILANTHROPY , so sure why not . i can toss a few hundred grand your way . ❞

[irnmade]

　　　❝ i don’t do pep talks often— that's more of cap's thing . but if i did , it’d be something like ‘ you’re more than what's been done to you , @weapnx23 ’ and then i’d probably ruin it with a joke , so . . . consider this me trying . ❞

[urbanoath]

⤿ continued from here › @weapnx23

ONCE    THE    WORLD   ENDED   ABLAZE,   hands   dug   into   concrete   wreckage,   urging,   beseeching   to   find   any   remnant   that   hadn't   been   devoured   by   mayhem.   IF   LIVES   COULD   BE   TRADED,   HE'D   HAVE   GAVEN   HIS   FOR   DEATH   TO   TAKE  INSTEAD  OF  JASON'S.    yet,   gunpowder   &   copper   blended   memories   with   reality,   incarnadine   ichor   summoning   the   image   of   another   child   soldier   broken   on   the   ground.   “   don't   .   .   .   just stay   still,   ”   ancient   grief   sat   atop   tongue,   constricting   throat   when   arms   cradled   her   back   against   his   chest,   attempting   to   provide   comfort   amid   pain.

they   were   offsprings   of   war,   whittled   by   sorrow,   forged   of   rage-   but,   in   the   sound   of   her   strained   breath,   a   FATHER   held   together   the   pieces   of   a   DAUGHTER   he   never   had.   “   we'll   find   him   together   next   time.   now,   i    want   you    to    focus    on   breathing,   let   your   body   heal.   ”

[snkts]

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