Whiskey Patches

June 19, 2018:

Logan tries to make a patch job on the damage Marcos made to the hall.


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

A school of mutants founded for the purpose of training them in the use of their abilities for the betterment of all life on Earth is a noble thing. The problem is when arguments happen and tempers rise, collateral damage happens. If there's anyone around who knows about collateral damage, it's the runt. He's caused his fair share of it. So when he came in for a drink and found a burned hole in the wall, he took it upon himself to get it fixed.

In the hallway is the short Canuck wielding his perpetual cigar wearing a white tank top and jeans. His brow is furrowed and he's holding a tape measure over a length of wood a few feet from a square hole he cut out around the damage.


Lorna Dane had had a reputation for explosive arguments with whoever she was in a relationship with. Alex Summers and her had destroyed a fridge and part of the kitchen when she was in high school. Marcos? Well, Marcos for the most part hadn't destroyed anything previously. This was the first incident of destruction. The floors and carpets would have to be tended to for scorch marks, but the greatest victim was undoubtly the wall. Burned and punched through, it needed every inch of work Logan gave it. And likely then some.

Lorna exited the room that she normally shared with Marcos Diaz, though Marcos decidedly had taken off to cool off (literally). Leaving Lorna with her daughter who had woken up in the middle of the argument and cried and cried.. and shorted the electrical devices in the room until Lorna had managed to suppress her daughter's electrico-static with her magnetism.

Still, it had taken some time, enough that Lorna only was now leaving with Logan outside in the hallway working on clean up. Lorna blinked, tilting her head as she shut the door carefully behind her. "Shit, sorry Logan about that… I uhm.." She couldn't pay for it. Hell, she had nothing practically since she'd left Genosha and returned. "Do you need a hand?"


Glancing over his shoulder as Lorna comes out into the hallway, Logan's eyebrow arches slightly. He releases the tape measure, letting it zip back into the housing as he studies her. "I'm alright darlin', I know my way around repairs," he says. He continues to study her body language as she moves through the hallway to get a read on how she's doing since he can put two and two together. Nothin' says love like a domestic incident. "What happened's none o' my business. You alright?"


Lorna shrugged, making her way over, still wearing her tank top and shorts from her run in the Danger Room earlier. She'd been practicing over and over again since Cable's little announcement about end of the world level of threats from Trask and the Sentinels. She sighed, her crossed arms falling to her sides as she came over and peered at the repair job half in curiosity, half in need of something to look at that wasn't Logan.

"I'm fine. I could take him if I had to. Not that I want to, I just.. Marcos didn't raise a hand at me. He wouldn't.. I went after him when he clearly needed to be alone. Should've.." She muttered, grimacing and sighing as she reached up to drag her hands through her hair.

"I'm just… okay.. yeah.. Emotionally, not so alright.. I guess."


He's got no doubt that Lorna could take the kid if she had to and her commenting such draws a grin across his lips. He won't comment though. Lovers quarrels aren't the type o' thing you get involved in one way or the other. Chewing on the cigar, he glances back down at the board on his makeshift work bench that's actually just a shitty old end table he uses to hold his whiskey bottles while he sleeps. A single claw creeps out from his right hand with the familiar sound of metal grinding against metal and he makes quick work of cutting a few inches from the end.

He bends down tot he floor with a grunt and rises with a bottle of whiskey and offers it towards Lorna. "Sorry t'hear it. Might take the edge off a bit." Whether she takes the bottle or not, he'll take a pull from it himself before returning it to the relative safety of the floor before he grabs the slab of wood and walks it over to the hole in the wall and hoists it up to make sure his cut was properly done.


Lorna took the offered bottle and took her own swig, a small exhale as it prickled the back of her throat and she swallowed it down and passed it back. She settled in to sit, legs crossed as she watched him. A nail or two was stolen for her to play with, tossing up into the air and twirling around her fingers in an idle manner that she'd always done since she'd arrived years ago. Only now there was more finesse to her magnetic movements, less need to do more than twitch a finger this way or that.

"Thanks." She sighed, leaning back slightly to peer at the patch job he was doing on the wall. She sat silently for quite some time, lost to her thoughts, before she ventured to speak again.

"Logan.. if you had a kid right now.. would you raise them?"


While Lorna sits in quiet, Logan does nothing to break the silence. He simply goes about his business by holding the board in place while he pounds a few nails into it with a few taps each. He takes a few steps back to survey the board he added and cocks his head to one side. Not the best work he's done, especially when you consider the quality of the construction of the institute. But it'll do until he can stain it to match the rest.

Glancing back over at Lorna after her question, his eyebrow arches again as he considers the proposition. "Not sure I catch yer meanin', but if I had a kid I'd want him as far away from me as possible." Considering everyone the man cares about ends up hurt or worse, Logan wouldn't want his children to suffer a similar fate. Luckily, as far as he knows, that won't be the case.


Lorna could very well offer to help with nails, but the few that she took for idle movements were all that she snatched. She watched Logan make sure the board was settled and stepped back to eye his work. She shrugged after a moment or two, sending the nails back to the box where they belonged with a flick of her finger tips. Still, it wasn't until he responded to her question, unclear as it was, that she seemed to nod and stir herself once more from her thoughts.

Funny, how Magneto and Logan shared that particular sentiment. It made perfect sense to Lorna, being a mutant was dangerous. Being a powerful mutant was even more so. And being a member of the X-men was doubly so. The world wasn't getting easier for mutants, at least in her perspective. Her decision to give up Aurora a sound one that was once more reconfirmed by Logan's words.

She nodded once, crossing her arms from her spot on the floor. "That's what I was thinking too.." She murmured, voice soft, muted almost in inflection. "Marcos is too emotional to make the hard choices.."


Taking a break from his work, Logan once again grabs his bottle of whiskey and trudges over to squat down beside Lorna. He takes another long pull from the bottle before offering it over to her once again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I wouldn't necessarily take advice from me though darlin', I'm damaged goods." He says so with a slight smile but the words he definitely means.

"On one hand, havin' a kid far away from me would protect it from the dangers of bein' mine" He looks at her again as he takes the bottle back and downs another large gulp, "But if shit went down, there are few better places t'be than here amongst people who can' protect ya."


Lorna took the offered whiskey again, taking a little more than the usual swig before she passed it back to Logan. She exhaled a breath, and glanced back up at Logan from under a fringe of green eyelashes. "My father suggested it too. He lost my eldest sister, decades before I was born. If word got out that she was my kid? Magneto's grand-daughter?" She voice was pinched and she whispered it softly, as if speaking the words out loud would draw eyes even quicker.

"Someone tried to kill me and use me against my father within two weeks of my being in Genosha and him acknowledging me. Aurora would be in that danger too.." She exhaled a breath, rubbing the bridge of her nose and shaking her head slowly.

"Sinister went after her already.. and now with Cable's talk about the NIMROD sentinels and some future slaughter? How can I fight and protect her? Marcos said I needed to stop fighting to protect mutants and just try to protect our daughter.. But it's not right.. and I can't fight with her in my arms.."


The plot thickens with every word he hears her say. Furrowing his thick eyebrows, his teeth clench. He doesn't necessarily like the fact that he and Magneto agree on anything, but in this case he can't really disagree. Especially considering what she said about Genosha.

He takes his cigar back into his mouth and whips out a lighter to ignite the cherry once more, taking a few thoughtful puffs and almost instantly clouding up the hallway with the stench. "A point could be made fer both sides," he says with a sideways glance at the lady beside him. "You gotta go with yer gut an' if that's what you believe, ya gotta stick to it." He takes another long drag from the cigar and signs quietly, letting the thick fog drift up from the corners of his mouth and into the air, "But Marcos has his beliefs too. Ya just gotta come to terms with each other an' do what's best for the girl." GLancing at her again, he shrugs a bit and looks back down at the whiskey bottle, "But again, I ain't th' best person to ask."


Lorna sighed heavily, making a gesture for the whiskey bottle again with a wiggle of her fingers. Even as Logan lit up the hallway. Doubtlessly Scott or Jean would heavily disapprove. It was a school after all. But Logan wasn't going to hear anything from Lorna in regards to drinking and smoking in the hallway. She didn't even make a gesture to wave away the smoke, though her nose wrinkled slightly.

A dry look followed as she listened to Logan's words and she heaved a sigh.

"He said he'd part with her over his dead body. I don't think there's gonna be any compromising there Logan.."


THose are pretty strong words from the father of your child. Over his dead body. No compromise there at all. This kind of shit is why Logan is glad he's unattached, especially in the way that Lorna and Marcos are. Relationship is hard enough but adding a kid to the mix? Fuck that.

He sees Lorna's hand in his periphery and nods, holding the bottle out to her for another drink. He can't help but notice the bottle is running a bit low and considers getting another one. Maybe in her state that ain't a good idea. He idly rolls the cigar between his fingers between puffs, barely audible grunts escaping his throat from time to time. It's the sound he makes when he's thinkin' sometimes. "Shit." He looks over at her again, "So what's the plan then, kiddo?"


Lorna took the bottle and took another swig, she exhaled a breath, her eyes closing briefly as she considered and rolled her thoughts around in her mind. She passed the nearly empty bottle back to Logan with a somewhat sheepish expression upon her features. She sighed softly, and shrugged wordlessly as she bent double and settled her chin against her knees. "I don't now Logan. If I do what I think is right, I'm giving up my daughter and destroying my marriage. Otherwise… I put my daughter in danger by keeping her." She grimaced and shook her head again.

"I don't know what to do.."


"Way I see it," Logan says as he lifts the bottle to his lips one last time to finish off what little liquor remains. One because he is just starting to feel the slightest tingle of a buzz from the second bottle, but mainly to keep Lorna from having more so she doesn't inadvertently have too much and have a bad night or morning. That being said, he's getting another bottle as soon as he's done cleaning up the tools for the repair job.

"Ya know yer options. One is a certainty. If ya give her up, you lose her an' possibly yer man." He glances at her after that point to give her a second to think about his words. "The other is based on somethin' that may or may not happen." Sure, it's a man from the future but if he knows anything it's that shit changes. The future with the sentinels and ultimate destruction of everything may never come to pass due to any number of events between now and then. "You willin' to lose it all for a possibility, darlin'?"


Drake Riley arrives from Exterior Grounds - Xavier's Institute.


Lorna grimaced, sitting up as she let her legs slide back into a folded position as she massaged her temples and exhaled a heavy breath. The whiskey had loosened her up, but the weight of the discussion weighed heavily on her. Too much to drink would mean she wouldn't be able to handle her daughter's powers should the little one get upset and sparks flew.. It was very much a good plan on Logan's part to keep her from getting any more at the moment.

"People hate my family Logan, do you really think that I can hide her for long enough that she can learn to defend herself? Even if the future doesn't come to pass…" She shook her head.


+MEET: Remy LeBeau has arrived via +meet.


The old man beside Lorna considers her words for a moment. She has a point. He can recognize that and even agree with it to an extent. Given that he was in her shoes, he'd be thinkin' the same thing. But thank the good lord he ain't in her shoes. On the other hand.

"Yer probably right, kiddo," he replies as he glances over at her again. Fuck, he isn't good at this 'being a good friend' shit and he can almost feel his skin crawl as the words leave his mouth. "Say you let her go." He pauses for a moment before continuing, "What's t'say people don't find out who she really is anyway. Who's gonna protect her then?"


Lorna shrugged wordlessly, "I don't know.. no one figured out who I was for eighteen years. Anonymity is the best that I can give her.. with a family that will love her.. and accept her for who she is.." She grimaced and shook her head slowly again. Green eyes lifted to consider Logan and she eyed the nearly empty bottle again and arched a brow. She made to stand slowly, reaching for the tools and what not to help Logan clean up the supplies he'd had to use to patch up the hole that Marcos had made.

"Here, lemme help you get this put away. I should get a buffer or something to fix the floors where Marcos burned through his shoes.." She muttered, grimacing again.


Speak of the devil and another one often appears in his place. Like this time! It's not Marcos, it's that one guy that lives with Marcos and Lorna. Or, one of the OTHER guys that lives with Marcos and Lorna. … Look! It's Remy! And he doesn't have that hideous neck fashion any more. And what's that in his left hand?! A bottle of booze and a tool belt around his waist.

"Y'all done already?" The cajun asks as he saunters up late like he actually planned on working and helping out around this large ass mansion. "Shucks. Looks like Ah missed dhe fun." He pouts playfully before he over hears the words, "Ah don' know who yas talkin' about Lorn, but Ah know ya can' possibly t'ink dat's for dhe bes' fo' 'Rora."


When Lorna stands up to start helping him, Logan stretches out an arm and holds his palm out towards her, "Don't worry yer head with this shit, darlin'. I can manage it." He offers her as warm a smile as a rough man like him can muster.

He opens his mouth to say something else when he catches the scent of someone approaching and more importantly more booze. He casts his glance away from Lorna in time to see Remy coming in toting a bottle and some tools. Fine timin'. He cares less about the timing of getting here when most of the repair work is done and more about the fact that he's out of whiskey. Inclining his head slightly towards the cajun, he offers up a gruff, "Bub." When Remy responds to Lorna about Aurora, though, he keeps his mouth shut and goes back to collecting the tools up. He's said his peace an' has little else to offer for advice anyway.


Lorna flashed Logan a grateful smile, and passed the tools back to Logan. But whatever else she was going to say was broken off by Remy's appearance. Her expression flat lined, his words drawing a scowl to her lips and she shook her head. "You're right, you don't know what I was talking about, Remy. So unless the next words out of your mouth are an offer to share the booze or that you have a buffer to smooth out the scorch marks that Marcos left on the floor.. I don't wanna hear it." She practically growled, giving the cajun an irritated look as she settled her hand on her hip.

"Because frankly anything else isn't going to help."


Much to everyone's surprise, Remy stops mid step and looks at Logan and then to Lorna and then back to Logan with his lips scrunched up to one side. "Fair 'nuff." The cajun says before he starts to turn on his heel and seemingly begins to walk away back to whereever it was he came from, a whistle on his lips like he did nothing wrong.


Logan's brows furrow once again and his eyes narrow slightly as Lorna loses her temper and growls at Remy. In his defense, shit usually ain't quite this level o' heavy around these parts so he almost feels bad for the guy.

Glancing back over towards Remy to see him promptly spin around and start heading back out, he clears his throat intently, "Wouldn't mind a sip o' that bottle, Remy." He takes a drag from his cigar to make sure the air in the room doesn't get too fresh, "If ya don't mind sharin', that is." He turns back towards Lorna, "Go easy on 'im darlin'. He's only tryin' to show you another perspective." Logan the mediator. Fuck he needs another vacation.


Drake Riley heads out to Exterior Grounds - Xavier's Institute.


Lorna's scowl deepened if at all possible as Remy turned around and made to turn and leave the two standing there in the hallway. "Remy! The point was that you shared whatever it is you've got there." She called back, annoyance thick in her tone of voice. Even as green eyes flickered toward Logan and the usually gruff man told her to go easy on the cajun. A huff, a grumble, and the firm line of her shoulders lessened as she dragged her hands through her hair and released a slow exhale of a breath.

"Look.. I'm sorry.. Remy." She huffed another breath of an exhale.


And like a puppy who had been scolded and was told to go to bed, Remy looks over his shoulders with wide teary eyes and smiles, "You two always know jus' what t'say t'make an ol' romantic cajun smile." He teases as he turns back around and literally tosses the new bottle of whiskey towards Logan. He knows the Canuck would never allow any harm to befall the bottle. Then he turns his red and black eyes towards Lorna. "Ah appreciate dhe apology Lorns. It means a lot."


Without effort, Logan catches the bottle of liquid gold and twists off the cap. He doesn't bother with a glass because, frankly, there ain't one. He tosses his head back and pours a stiff portion down his throat. His healing factor had just started to kill that slight tingle in his head but thank goodness the Cajun saved him.

As he swallows down the liquor with an audible 'ahhh' sound, he glances over at Lorna and hesitates for a moment before holding it out to her. This oughtta be the last drink for her lest she get too buzzed. "How ya been, bub?" Logan asks as he looks back over at Remy. It's been a while since he's seen one of the few folks 'round this place that leads a lifestyle even remotely similar to his own.


Lorna shook her head as she eyed Remy but still, the cloud of a scowl had at least lessened. His teasing made a smile flicker to life, dry and only carrying a faint trace of humor but it was there. She watched the whiskey bottle tossed toward Logan and the man catch it to down a good deal of it. Her own buzz tingled in her fingers and in the back of her skull. She waited until Logan passed the bottle her way, taking it and downing her own guzzle of the contents.

Perhaps more than she really should, but she was miserable. She had issues.

"Thanks Remy," She murmured, handing the bottle back toward him.


"Not too bad, not since Ah got dat nulifier collah offa mah an' Rogue's necks." The cajun says with a sad sort of twinge of his lips, "But Ah'm gonna head out soon 'nuff an fin' out where dey came from." He says with a fire in his eyes. Yeah, something's gonna blow up soon enough.

He turns back to Lorna and doesn't say anything as he crosses his arms across his chest. "Ya welcome Lorns." He says before dropping one arm to his side to pull up on the belt that was obviously bought sometime today. The tools are old and covered in grease in some way, but the belt, that's brand new.


The runt has been out of the country for a while an' from the sounds of it, he's missed quite a bit. Nulifier collars. The thought of it causes Logan's expression to harden slightly. "You need any help with huntin' 'em down, you say th' word, eh?" It's been a while since Logan's gotten his hands dirty an', gun to his head, he's itchin' for a fight.

Logan casts another glance over to Lorna to check on her and make sure the liquor isn't working on her too hard. After all she's had a few shots in the past couple of minutes. Especially if Marcos comes back after cooling down and finds her drinking with the likes of Logan and Remy. May have to patch up more than just this hole in the wall.


Lorna blinked, and her features twisted sharply as Remy spoke of troubles with collars and the alike. "What?! Remy, do you still have those? How did.. what happened? How did you get it off?" She hesitated, and then shook her head swallowing hard at the stickiness at the back of her throat.

"Never mind, take me with you when you plan to hit Trask's place. I want in. I'm done with sitting on the side lines and watching others fight. I've been in the Danger Room almost constantly since Cable told us about the NIMROD Sentinels." She pursed her lips, eyeing the bottle of whiskey wistfully, but not asking for again.


"I don't think this is Trask, unless he was the one who made all the collars for Genosha." Remy says with a frown and he looks to the bottle but doesn't ask for it as his phone goes off. The thief reaches up to his back pocket and pulls out his phone before he waves at the two. "Enjoy dhe whiskey, don' burn dhe place down, an' don' get too sloshed mkay, at least in fronta dhe kiddos." He winks before he turns around and actually leaves this time.


As Remy turns and abruptly leaves, Logan peers off into the distance at nothing in particular. His thoughts linger on the collars and the fact that Remy and Rogue had dealt with having them on for who knows how long. Secretly a part of him wouldn't mind having one in his back pocket just in case. Just in case.

He glances over at Lorna, "If you rush off, you better let me know. Don't want you runnin' off without backup. He takes the bottle that Remy left and takes another long swig, swallowing a few times before that same 'ahhh' escapes his throat once more. The thought of finding the source of those collars has his blood rising and it feels good. Especially with the slightest of buzzes swimming around his head.


Lorna sighed once again as Remy turned and departed, "Trask was the one advertising the collars. Sure, he's getting the tech from Genosha.. but.." She trailed off and offered a glance spared toward Logan and the booze. A thinning of her lips followed, and she nodded once.

"I won't go running off without back up so long as you promise to be my back-up." She murmured, her brows furrowed as she spared another glance for the whiskey, but left it alone. Yep. Buzzed was good. Tipsy even. But drunk wouldn't be.

"I know the lists for the Genoshan scientists. Their files.. Saw them on Genosha. I read what they did to people. I saw the aftermath.."


The Wolverine turns to face her at her request to be her back up and he offers her a stiff nod. "Consider it a done deal, kiddo." He's ready to help with the situation at hand, absolutely. But he wouldn't let on that he's also really wanting to sink his claws into the skulls of people who deserve it. As one of the less inhibited X-Men when it comes to murder, he tries not to advertise it to the others. They all know well enough and are at least courteous enough to not talk to him about it.

"Hell, I'd go right now if I knew the way." And he would. He would fuckin' love to. But much like government organizations, there's a process here. Processes mean wasted time. But that's a part of being a team. And as much as it pains him sometimes, he's a part of the team.


Lorna leaned against the wall, folding her arms over her chest as she considered, her lips pursed together as she thought it over. She'd left the Genoshan scientists to her father, to the Brotherhood, to her brother and sister. Perhaps it was time that she stop that and do something herself. Track down those that had escaped crimes against their kind. Her father had done so against the Nazis that had fled WWII Europe…

Though that had been with the government's blessing. This? This could very well get her labelled a terrorist as her father had warned.

"I can find them. There are people in Mutant Town that …" Parts of the Brotherhood that still thought of her father as their leader, if she asked, she'd get whatever intel she wanted.


Being labeled a terrorist has its drawbacks. Then again, so does having your natural powers removed unwillingly by a government sanctioned group. The more he thinks about it the more he realizes that maybe Lorna shouldn't get involved. At least to the extent that Logan intends to. He grumbles as he purses his lips together as he glances at her briefly. "Maybe we should take a trip down to Mutant Town sometime soon. See what we can dig up, eh?"

He'll have to think about how to get some info without Lorna storming off to go get herself killed or watched by the government. That's the last thing Marcos or Aurora needs. He slings his toolbelt over his shoulder and turns to face the end of the hallway, "Gonna go dig up s'more whiskey an' hit the hay, darlin'." He turns to glance over at Lorna one last time, reaching over to hold her chin between his thumb and index finger, "Go sleep off th'booze, kiddo. Drink some water first." With that, he winks at her then turns to head down the hallway.

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