A Break From The Crazy

September 22, 2018:

Back at the mansion following time around the demonic invasion of New York City, Logan encounters Wolfsbane

Xavier's Mansion Grounds

Xavier's Institute grounds are located on 1407 Graymalkin Lane in
Westchester County between Graymalkin Lane itself and Breakstone Lake (30
miles outside of NYC itself). A large portion of this is acres upon acres of
woodland forest. To the farthest eastern portion of the Institutes grounds
there is a stretch of low foothills.

Upon entering the Institute grounds immediately past the heavy gated
entrance one finds themselves on a carefully paved road that splices into a
circle-drive in front of Xavier's Mansion where Professor Xavier has created
a school for special individuals. These "special" individuals are those
seeking education, not only in every day skills and common school courses
but also in their unique 'gifts' granted to them typically by a mutation.

The mansion itself is a multi-story building built over a hundred years ago.
It has finely cultivated gardens encircling its extensive structure. The
front lawns are sprawling stretches of perfectly trimmed grass and edge
gardens while the rear grounds feature extensive walkways, gardens, sports
fields and pathways leading out toward Breakstone Lake and the forest that
encompasses it.

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

The demonic invasion caught Logan in a bad time. It was right in the middle of a dose of mayhem in the biker bar that once been called 'Giancarlo's' and which now had been renamed 'Joanie's.' No longer was it a gathering place of old codgers with a penchant for crime but who had retired. It became a place for the biker gang, 'Dogs of Hell', to frequent. And that… hadn't sat well with Logan.

One thing inevitably led to another and before people knew it fists were flying and furniture was braeking. All from a few misspoken words assuredly. But then, out of nowhere, screams had been heard on the street. Demonic creatures leaping and bounding and slavering as they chased after people. It was a scene straight out of Dante's Inferno only with a wider array of creatures. So many that the gangers and Logan had ended up stopping their efforts to beat each others' brains in and instead dealt with the matters that were right in front of them.

Eventually the majority of the civilians here had decided they needed to get out of the city, and Logan ended up taking that cadre of some thirty civilians and bikers street by street out of the Bronx and towards the river until they managed to steal a large enough boat… and make it to Jersey. It was from there that he'd made his way back to the Manor and when the ragged haggard man showed up at the gate of Xavier's, it'd explain why he was accompanied by three pretty roughed up gangers in their leather jackets, a jacket that Logan was wearing as well for some reason.

From afar one might see the three Dogs of Hell clambor off their motorcycles, all of them give each other a series of hugs one after the other as they'd all been through a literal hell and back. And now, it was time for them to depart.

The engines of the three motorcycles roared as the trio of Dogs of Hell rode off down the road, and Logan… for his part, walked slowly up the sidewalk looking like he'd been through a lot considering the mad state his clothes were in.


Bad news spreads quickly, especially when it has to do with demonic invasions of New York City. So far, the details were unclear enough that Wolfsbane couldn't tell exactly what was happening, but just to be on the safe side she decided it'd be a good idea to keep her feet planted firmly on the ground around the mansion rather than diving into…whatever all that was. It would be safer that way, safer with no demons around to deal with, but that was dependent on them staying there and not coming here. It was also dependent on her not going there.

Currently pacing near the gardens, the roar of motorcycles drew her attention closer to the main entrance of the Institute, leading to her moving around that way, sharpening up her eyesight just a bit, and spotting the end of the manly hugs before the bikers moved on. It left her standing off to the side, head tilted slightly as she followed Logan's approach silently.


With a clarity of purpose and a steady gait, Logan makes his way up the slight incline of the driveway. His footsteps carry him past the carport and the garage and then past where Rahne likely holds her vigil. For a moment his nostrils flare slightly and he tilts his head to the side. His blue eyes meet her gaze and he gives a nod as he walks, but then he seems to think better of it and waves her over. "Hey, Rahne. C'mere." He asks in that rumbling tone of his.

But that doesn't stop him as he walks towards the front door, though he slows. He'll wait til she's closer and within easier speaking distance before he'll tilt his head to the side, "How's it been here? Holdin' down the fort?"


Wolfsbane's eyes never leave the approaching, then passing Canadian, someone she's actually of a similar height to compared to others. Seemingly content to give him his space, regardless of whatever questions are surely on her mind, she offers little more than a nod of acknowledgement before he gestures.

Then, a few steps in his direction follows, enough to get her to the sidewalk. "Hullo, Mister Logan," she begins. She may be older now, more experienced and mature, but some old habits die hard. Calling him that is one of them. "It's quieter here, a' least. How bad is it oot there?" A furred, claw-tipped hand gestures in the direction of the big city, though of course it can't be seen through all the trees.


The haggard and grim looking man is wearing a black leather jacket with the Dogs of Hell logo on it, though the name tag of it seems to be of someone named 'Runner' who had been an officer of some sort, but it had been liberated by the X-man for purely utility sake. That much, at least, is evident as he sheds it when he gets to the door and yanks it open with one hand. He holds it for a moment for the wolf-girl to precede him even as he murmurs sidelong. "Was a mess."

Once he's inside he'll throw the jacket off onto one of the hallway wooden-backed and over-stuffed chairs, leaving it there for now. But without that jacket it's pretty clear he's seen a bit of a war. Bloodied and torn t-shirt, mostly in ragged shreds seem like it could fall apart at any moment. His blue jeans are cut in places but not as bad as the shirt. And there's a pointed scuff of mud on his boots that he at least stops for a time to wipe on the door mat in the foyer.

That done he tells her as they move. "Mess showed up, been tryin' ta get back ever since it kicked off. Some places it's bad. Some places it's not as bad. Still." Then he pauses in his stride to look at her directly, brow furrowed as he murmurs, "You heard anything? Anyone leave word? A rally point?"


Wolfsbane's certainly taken note of the leather jacket she's never seen Logan in before. She's unfamiliar with motorcycle gangs and all that go with them, but just from the look and smell of it alone, she can pick out a few things about it and its former owner. Quietly, she makes her way inside and keeps a few feet apart from him, giving him all the space he needs.

"I've no' heard verra much yet," she admits with a shake of the head, a hand moving to adjust her top a bit before it lowers back down to her side. "Sorry. I'm no' in th' loop with a whole lot these days." She's given him a once-over, noting the damage to his clothing more than himself; she knows it takes a whole lot to slow him down.


"S'alright," Logan says as he walks but she can see that his eyes are distant, his thoughts likely far off for the moment. He takes the turn at the end of the hall and moves not to his quarters which are up a level and easily reached by the grand staircase in the central hall. But instead he moves to that hidden elevator and causes the door to slide open slowly, waiting for it to fully open then holds the door for her. "I figure people are still scattered tryin' ta get their own angle on things and lock down their corner of the craziness."

He steps back and if she joins him he'll hit the button and continue to speak as they descend towards the X-Men ready area. "I need ta get a shower, some grub, and then gonna try and contact people. See where I'm needed. If nobody's talkin' then I'll head back inta the city." He glances sidelong at her, "You wanna make yerself handy, can monitor the comms. I'll tell ya my plans and you can relay that if it comes down to it. Alright?"


There's enough uncertainty in the wolfen woman's stance and stride that shows this whole thing has her feeling off. "I always knew Limbo was trouble.." she murmurs, mostly under her breath although she'd know he can hear it without even having to try. But, into the elevator she goes, hands clasping before her as she fidgets with her fingers.

"I should probably be there as well," Wolfsbane confesses, then shaking her head she adds, "But I dinnae think I'm ready tae deal wi' all tha'. No' yet. If I can be any help while I'm here.." She trails off after nodding to the mention of the comms and working as a relay for the time being. "Tha' should be fine."


"Don't worry, kid." Logan's voice is still somber, still severe though when he looks to her there might be a hint of compassion. "Hard times breed hard people. You'll do fine." Yet even as he says the last the doors open on the elevator and the bright metal hallway greets their eyes. He steps out, turning his head left and right, nostrils flaring for a moment as he moves further into the way, while extending a hand behind him as if to stay her advance.

After a moment he grunts, "Seems fine. Localized to Manhattan I figure. With our luck though ya never know." Once that's said he turns and gestures towards the comms room which is the opposite way from the ready rooms. "You know how ta work the communications array? I can show ya and then hit the showers."


"It's clear," Wolfsbane says after about a second of Logan checking things out. Her senses, while not on his level, are still very, very good whenever she's in a wolfen sort of form. "An' I dinna think I'm a hard person," she notes, contrary to whatever she's gone through in the past that may or may not support that opinion. It's no secret she's often had image problems, a lack of confidence in her self-worth, though it's improved.

"Strange tha' it just seems tae be in one area, though. But, if ye could give me a reminder, it's better than me forgetting an' messing up." By that point, she's got herself positioned to stand before the array. It can be daunting, intimidating if one isn't familiar with it. "Then..aye, ye do need a shower."


A short /snort/ comes from him, a deeper harumph that many other people might take as a sense of warning coming from the normally very grim man. But she can read him easily enough to tell it's more amusement than annoyance when coming from him. "Yeah yeah, and I suppose you smell like roses all the time, yerself." But as he's said that he's already making the turn needed to take him back up the hallway and towards the comm array that has its place just off the main meeting room. A few steps and the doors open for him, letting them both step inside.

Once in there the lights flicker on and the display screens blur into life before resolving into a series of displays filled with a myriad of data. For this, however, he pushes a bunch of them out of the way. He just keeps two of them settled down above the keyboard and the microphone. One seems to show a map of the local area including Manhattan, the other has a data display of various in the field operatives though none are piping up with information.

"Here's the tracking of the people in the field." As he looks at the map he frowns as there aren't many signals out there. "And this is where you'll get calls or can call other folks. Touch the holos, it'll connect ya. Point and click and all that." He goes through the motions and ticks the one connected to his, though he doesn't wear it right now. "This one's mine, I'll at least be one you'll know where I am in the field and can call me if needs be. If you get an angle on other folks mebbe try and contact them but be careful, if they're movin' fast in the field then they might be in a tough situation. Also make sure yer call is set to silent." He takes a moment to look back at her, "Don't wanna give their position away even if it's an off chance."

He steps back and turns around, straightening up and grimacing. "Comin' back to ya now?"


"Ye just need th' right kind o' shampoo," Wolfsbane says, somewhat on the dry side given her usual demeanor. She's not known as much of a joker, but just the same, he can read it in her. She's trying to be a little funny to cope with what's going on. Once inside, she lingers closer to the map and the information coming through.

Little by little, she nods to the majority of what he's telling her, following the blips and the rest. "Och, aye. I remember th' steps noo." Not quite like riding a bicycle, but not far off. It's a familiarity thing, a repetition thing. "If I end up oot there a' all, I'm no' sure how smart it'd be oot in th' open."


"Leave it to the leaders, they'll know what skill sets are gonna be needed." Logan says that even as he looks at the map a little longer, frowning at something displayed there but then shaking his head. "Alright, sounds like ya got it. I'll check back in with ya before I run back off."

He reaches the door leading back out of the comms array and he pauses there. Looking back in he squints for a moment, seems about to say something. Then he shakes his head and instead heads on out. "Seeya, kid." And with that said the doors whisper shut behind him.

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