13821/Logan's Thing I

Logan's Thing I
Date of Scene:	10 March 1968
Location:	Outside Hue, Republic of Vietnam
Synopsis:	While helping Logan move his stuff out of storage, the X-Men take part in an unusual retelling of history.
Cast of Characters:	Logan Howlett, Scott Summers, Tabitha Smith, Alison Blaire, Rogue, Kitty Pryde
Cast of NPCs:	Arkady Rossovich, Silver Fox, Kimura, Tex 'Cowboy' Briggs, Jackson Hamilton

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Logan Howlett has posed:
"Anyway, fella down at the storage place says the whole things flooded," Logan explains, heaving a box out of the tray of his El Camino and resting it up against one shoulder. He glances at those gathered to help him move the stuff into his room, shaking his head with a sigh, "So, figure I'd leave it all here for now. Not like we're hurtin' for space."

The box nestled in place, he beginst to move across the gravel driveway towards the main doors of the house. As he goes, he jerks his shoulder to put the box in a more settled position. The lid, still open from where he'd checked for water damage, tilts slightly and a silvery object topples out over the side and lands behind him with a clack.

"Someone get that."

Scott Summers has posed:
Scott's there in a blue parka over a Jethro Tull t-shirt. His hair is grown out a bit, tucked behind his ears, ruby-quartz glasses keeping his potent power at bay. He goes to put his gloves on, "Recommend gloves for everybody on a job like this. Your hands are going to get sweaty. And you never know when you'll encounter something sharp," he says.

He takes off his coat for the moment, figuring he's going to warm up a little from the labor. Plus, he gets to show off the guns. He's been hitting the gym pretty hard and, yeah, he's a little proud of the results. He sees the silver object fall, but has no time to react or do much of anything. Unless he wanted to blast it. Which would probably be an overreaction.

Tabitha Smith has posed:
There's a saying; Friends help you move, real friends help you move bodies.

Tabby had been hoofing her way across the driveway from the Student Dorm where she lives and is not actually a student.

Technically she's a meatshield more often than not. But the master of meatshielding drops a thing out of that box and the blonde is just far enough behind him to bend down and scoop it up to the chargrin of the darj blue Levi's on her hips and legs. The spiky yellow belt redundatly looked though it securing things.

"Old Zippo? I remember these when I was a kid and didn't have the power to light crap on fire." she states and remenisces of the days where she needed mechanical assistance to light flaming bags of dog poop on porches,

Flipping it open and tring to spark the thing the girl grins as the flint makes that hissing scarping soundf in front of her yellow Xavier Institute hoodie. "Probably like have some fluid to refill the thing inside somewhere."

And that's how Tabby got roped in.

Alison Blaire has posed:
Alison looks a lot like she usually does, as if she's uncertain why she's here. She is not the obvious choice when asking to help you move belongings to a new residence, or really anything that deals with lifting heavy objects. It's not that she's weak or incapable, so much as... ya know... lazy. With regards to manual labor anyways.

With her hands in her pockets, she waits 'just' long enough for someone else to bend over to grab the silvery object that had tumbled from the open lid of the box. Would it have killed her to grab it? Absolutely not. "I bet that thing has seen some shit." Said of the zippo Tabby just struck.

Rogue has posed:
From the front gate, Rogue's 69 Charger in black and forest green appears. Its engine rumbles loudly as it comes to the circle driveway, and ends up moving around past everyone near Logan's car. Inside it, the Belle is behind the wheel, with Jeepers in the passenger seat. The yellow lab's head is hanging out the window and he happily is barking at everyone as the Charger rolls by toward the garage to the western side of the circle driveway.

Once it parks, the driver side door opens up, and Jeepers runs out behind Rogue, who steps out herself. Dressed in a leather jacket, sunglasses on, blue jeans and a scarf around her neck, Rogue walks toward everyone...

Jeepers is well ahead of her, happily going to bump in to everyone's legs, like dogs do!


"What's goin on here?" Rogue calls out as she steps closer now, her cowgirl boots crunching on the finely kept gravel driveway.

Kitty Pryde has posed:
Kitty checks out a loose bag, looking at the contents. Because she's nosey. Especially when being nosey may lead to something that will annoy Logan. Which really could be just about anything, given his sunny demeanor and his having had to put up with teenaged Kitty for years.

"Huh, how many times have you been to Hawaii anyway?" she asks as she pulls out a bunch of Hawaiian lays from the bag. She starts looping them over Lockheed's neck as he hovers nearby, loading him up until one can barely see his head. He flies off while Kitty gathers up a few more things to carry inside. She nearly falls over Jeepers when he comes barreling over to her for pets. "Ah, Jeepers, my hands are a bit full. Hit me up in a few ok?"

Logan Howlett has posed:
"Uh huh, yeah," Logan says in rare agreement with Scott, glancing back over his shoulder at him, "Not entirely sure what's in all these boxes, but Slim's right. Prob'ly some sharp stuff. Don't go touchin'."

The sudden appearance of Rogue prompts a frown from the Canadian: "Findin' out who my friends are and notin' your conspicuous absence, girl."

He opens his mouth to answer Kitty, only to be distracted by Tabitha and Alison as they zero in on the lighter.

The Zippo in Tabby's hand has an engraving, reading 'Quang Tri - 1968' the majority of the Zippo's side is take up by an 'X' that appears to have been roughly scratched into the metal. He turns slightly where he stands, box still mounted on one shoulder, and looks at it critically for a moment. The expression on his face is unmistakable. An expression of someone who knows they ought to recognize something, but the threads of a thought are dangling just out of reach. He clicks his tongue against his teeth for a moment, seemingly out of it until he hears Alison speak.

"Huh? Oh ... yeah. A whole lot of shit."

                       Hue, Republic of Vietnam

                              March, 1968

           "This is the end ... my only friend ... the end."

Jim Morrison's words echo throughout. It's hot and humid, though the military base that 'Team X' is currently based out of is hopping despite it all. Marines in fatigues run this way and that, as the choppers rumble in the distance in preparation to dust off. Logan sits shirtless in a canvas chair, arms dangling over the side and face concealed under some smut magazine he won in a poker game.

A moment later he pulls a Zippo from his pocket, withdrawing a cigar from behind his ear and lighting it.

"Smoke 'em if you got 'em."

Tabitha Smith has posed:
There's another bend down and ear scritches are given since Tabby's strenuous contribution leaves her a hand free. "Will have all the treats for ya later buddy," she says brightly as ears and cheeks and the back of the Lab's neck get attention.

The engravings and scratching get a hmm as the blonde buninator looks at the lighter. "Kwong Tree? That like Madripoorean of something?" she asks Ali looks at it as well.

That lighter is clearly a two person job.

Nam: All that humidity and chemical weapons in the air.

Kimura, local beer dangling in her fingers, sweat running down and soaking her clothes eyes the shirtless little man. The woman's hair left down while the Madripoorean born woman free hand idly traces the sheath of a very sharp looking knife on her hip.

"Bet that's what the pilots said after the last napalm run!" she says wickedly. She was never what anyone would consider nice.

Alison Blaire has posed:
Amidst the marines is the hooded figure making her way through the crowds towards Logan is napping shirtless beneath his smutty magazine. Beneath her hood, which opens down the front and reveals a simple uniform designed mostly for speed and agility in close quarters, is a roughly twenty something year old native american woman with cool brown eyes and a lopsided grin.

As she approaches she nudges the bottom of his chair with her booted foot and drops down on an overturned ammo crate she's now using for a seat. She'd just gotten back to base, having led a small detachment to run scouting missions just outside the defensive position surrounding the city. "Hah..." Silver Fox chortles at Kimura and pulls a cigarette from a crumpled pack of lucky strikes kept in one of the pockets of her fatigues and rests it between her lips. It bobs with each word, "That run hit a small village about seventy five clicks off target. I don't knwo who sent the intel for that bombing run, but I can tell you the locals are properly pissed off. Contact says a full half platoon of V.C. have moved in along the border of Phu Xuan. Using rice boats to ferry weapons up and down the Song Hue."

Rogue has posed:
"Logan, you summabitch." Tex 'Cowboy' Briggs says as he steps out of a barracks tent and starts walking toward where the group is sitting. He's wearing a drab green vest and dog tags over a bare chested muscley form beneath. He wipes a knife on the side of his army camo pants, and then slams the knife down on a table beside where Logan is sitting.

"You took alla my damn magazines from me, an' I aim t'get them back."

Tex pops open a beer with his right hand, then raises it up to take a swig from it. "Poker again, tonight, once this cursed sun goes down on this shit hole and we get some relief from this god damn heat. If you can call ninety degrees at night relief."

Tex belches loudly then, before he raises up one leg and does the other kind of body belching from the other end.

He rolls his shoulders then, and reaches in to a pocket to pull out a paTex regards the native american hooded woman then, and looks her over with a dirty grin on his face. "Hows stuff, Miss Mystery?"
ir of aviators. "Fuck this place. Fuck it right in its puckerhole."

Kitty Pryde has posed:
The loud sneeze that sounds could have come from one of the water buffalo that wander the edge of camp, some of them being used to supplement the normal rations. However, everyone will recognize the sound of Jackson's sneeze. He comes around from behind a tent, wiping at his nose. "Damn it. This is worse than March in Kansas," he says, before he's wracked by another gigantic sneeze into his arm.

Jackson's eyes are red from allergies. And from drinking the night before just to help him forget about the allergies. "Any word from the brass on what's going on?" he asks as the infantryman looks over his shoulder at the choppers that are stirring up dust and dirt as they arrive or depart.

Because that'll help the man. Blown dust.

Logan Howlett has posed:
"Jesus H. Christ," Logan groans at Kimura's joke, lighting the end of his cigar, "You're a piece of work. Where'd Creed dig you up?"

When Silver Fox speaks, Logan pauses a moment and holds his cigar almost frozen in the air in front of him. Something weighs heavy on his mind as he looks at her, listens to her speak. But, when the other voices come, he immediately turns away and pulls up that disguise once again. Whatever it is that occupies his mind, he's not in the mood to share it.

"Heh, Cowboy, I ain't planning to wager 'em, but if I can take more of your money from you, I'm gonna."

He rises up out of his chair. He barely stands up to Brigg's chest, but he nudges him with a finger when he notes him leering at Silver Fox.

"Hey, don't go gettin' ideas. What are you doin' here, anyway? Thought you and your boys drew the short straw and were off to poke around in the city?" A glance is paid to Jackson, "Not that you heard that from us. We're just regular old observers and consultants, ain't that right?"

Logan turns about, as though prompting a response from Kimura and Silver Fox.

Tabitha Smith has posed:
"Sounds like we need to go take a meeting with the local authorities Fox. Remind them that communists can be everywhere. And show them what we do when we find one!" That free hand idly caressing the hilt of her knife.

Did she just nip at ler lower lip. "Least the pilots will get more fun when they reload the bombers. Should just scorch the whole place, then the generals will have somewhere to play golf." she suggests.

There's a grin at Cowboy. "Looks like he kept the only one with actual girls. The one you really didn't want huh?" she teases. "But alas no relief for anyone between the heat and hearing you complain." she points out.

Jackson'ssneezing gets an eyeroll as well. "Logan, Creed at least knows how to show a lady a good time." Creed might actually have followed Rule One with Kimura. "I'll schedule appointments in the morning. Logan" she adds.

No one should have a smile that evil.

Alison Blaire has posed:
"Mysterious." Silver Fox replies to Tex, pushing her hood back off her braided black hair. The cigarette bobs a few more times, then she finally lights it and inhales a sharp lung full of smoke. A few loose pieces of tobacco are pulled from her bottom lip after capturing the cigarette to hang from the ends of her fingers now dangling on one bent knee.

Brown eyes peel over to Jackson's sneezing and she inclines her head in greeting, "More patrols, probably. I heard another three or four thousand marines are inbound from sateside after that last push..." She murmurs, but shrugs a shoulder, smirking when Logan leaps to her defense against Cowboy.

She looks down at her boots, rolling the cigarette between the tips of her fingers thoughtfully, looking between the gathering of troops from beneath the hang of her brow, which ends up landing fully on Kimura. "Wewe ni mbwa mgonjwa.." Under her breath. Cigarette landing between her lips for another drag.

Rogue has posed:
Cowboy just starts to hyuck out some deep gutteral laughs as he hears all the responses. He saunters over to the rack of M-15s where he picks up his straw hat that is all manner of beatup and nasty sweat drenched on the inside. He just drops it on his head and then finds a place to sit down on the edge of a wooden crate.

"Jackson. You smell like straight-up pig shit." He says before taking another swig of his beer.

He raises his eyes up to look at Kimura, who gets a grin from the big man. "Ya'll just relax, would ya?" He says then, looking around at everyone. "Shit, it's like ya'll are expectin a bomb t'go off or somethin'. If we got reinforcements comin' in that's a good thing. We could use some fresh blood around here. Maybe get some more folks to rip on at the poker table. See? I'm the positive one around here, unlike short'n hairy over there." He says, motioning toward Logan.

Kitty Pryde has posed:
At hearing from Silver Fox a patrol is likely, Jackson gives a loose rock a kick, sending it skittering across the compound yard before he falls heavily into a chair. "Always with the damn p-p-patrols," he says, the stutter that only shows up when he's upset emerging. "G-G-God damn jungle. Let them have it I say," he says.

Jackson turns and reaches for his assault rifle, checking the chamber is empty before popping the clip and starting to disassemble it for cleaning. The stock is engraved with a beautiful girl that he claims is the girl he left behind in the States.

For all his complaining, Jackson is meticulous about preparation and follows orders to a 'T'. The kind of guy other GIs want to have around them when going into the bush. Just out of sneezing range hopefully though.

Logan Howlett has posed:
"I'm relaxed," Logan growls under his breath, eyes roaming sideways to watch Silver Fox as she speaks under her breath, "I'm plenty relaxed. Figure we're just gonna traipse in there arm-in-arm, get all those PAVN boys t' see the error of their ways an - "

There's no immediate sound. Logan, standin there shirtless as he is, sort of gets a stunned look on his face. He spins slightly where he stands and crumples to the ground, a fine mist of blood hanging in the air where he was. What seems like an eternity later, there is a familiar snap from the treeline. A single bullet - a sniper's bullet, perhaps? Whatever it was, it's made a mess of the Canadian man's chest.

He lays there in the churned dust, grasping at the bloody wound and hissing through clenched teeth. He's breathing heavily, groaning in pain and ... is that growling?

Tabitha Smith has posed:
"One a these days Cowboy I may just salute you. Out in the open on patrol." Kimura teases, maybe threatens. "Just like I might if they ever let me back into the states and ahead of Jackson, introduce his 'Girl' to Jody." she just never has a kind thing to say.

Of course when Logan gets shot and he's on the ground, the Madripooran is dropping down and looking for covert while looking back over where Logan is bleeding and growling.

Then drawing her sidearm and taking potshots at the treeline in the direction of the shot. With that fortyfive of hers. "Well shit. I didn't even salute the hairy little bastard." there's a look over at Silver Fox and then at Logan and then at Fox. The look is an actual oh crap expression while she reloads her weapon.

Alison Blaire has posed:
Time stands still for a handful of seconds.

The look in Logan's eyes is an unfamiliar one, especially to someone who is as familiar with him as Silver Fox is. Her brow furrows and she's standing up, cigarette falling to the ground when she reaches out to try and grab his arm as he begins to fall. Immediately at his side before the snap-hiss of the sniper-rifles report cuts through the hum-drum of casual conversation and laughter throughout the camp.

A silence falls over everyone. A hush... Not because Logan has been hit, perhaps, but because of the gunfire crack. Her hand rests on his bloody chest, pushing at the wound to apply pressure, "No... No.. Logan... No... Medic!" She sounds as if she's not even sure? How is it she's having to call for a medic for LOGAN?! She peers over at Kimura in the same moment the Madipooran peers at her? What the fuck written all over her face.

Then reality hits her and she remembers she's just sitting there with her preverbial dick in her hand with a sniper in the treeline. So She grabs hold of his arm, ducks down and hoists him up on her shoulders into a fireman carry, "Cover! Get to fucking cover! Snipers in the treeline!"

She's moving for a stack of crates to deposit him and resume rudementary medical care while waiting for an actual Corpsman to come. "Jackson, Cowboy! Lay down fire -that way-! Lots of it!" She jokes in the rough direction she'd heard the weapons snap. Guns are her thing... and while she has no heightened sense, knowledge of fireams dictates that's the likely position given the wound and the way he fell. Both hands pressing down into the wound on Logan's chest.

Rogue has posed:
Cowboy looks away from Jackson, over to Kimura, and he starts doing that goofy laugh. "Careful, Kimmy, or I'll take you over to that tent on yonder, and we'll make some new magazines." He is about to say something to Logan next when the gunshot goes off. It doesn't take him but a second to dash for cover, drop his beer, and raise his hands up to his shoulder level.

With a look at Logan, Tex grimaces. "God damnit! We're not even a hundred miles near the hotzone, I thought!"

"Sonsabitches!" He shouts before glances at the hooded lady. "Girl, you don't gotta tell me twice..."

In Tex's hands, two 'ghost six shooters' form out of thin air. Tex jumps up from behind his cover and starts firing them off, each one making a strange ghostly explosive sound as he fires them off, sending manifested phantom bullets in to the treeline!

Tex throws himself over the cover then, and leaps up in to the air, as a ghostly horse forms itself underneath Cowboy's crotch!

Now on his mount, the man starts galloping upon the misty mount toward the trees, unloading shot after shot from his banshee whailing pistols!

Kitty Pryde has posed:
The sudden spray of blood causes Jackson to start in surprise, though by the time the crack of the rifle shot sounds, he's starting to move. Grabbing the clip to his gun, the wiry man practically leaps out of the chair and over to where Logan has collapsed on the ground.

He grabs hold of Logan under his arm and shoulder with one hand, dragging the downed soldier across the ground until the pair of them reach a trench. Jackson's gun goes in first and then he tumbles in with Logan, cradling him to try to cushion the downed man and take the brunt of the landing.

The bottom of the long foxhole is muddy, though it doesn't slow Jackson as he squirms out from under the shorter but heavier Logan. "Talk to me Logan, talk to me," he says as he starts checking for the bullet wound.

Logan Howlett has posed:
"Get ... " Logan growls through gritted teeth, blood bubbling over his lips as Silver Fox carries him, "Get ... it ... "

Whatever he's trying to say, he's cut off by a sudden bout of unconsciousness that causes him to slump against Silver Fox and Jackson. Thankfully, these were the days before he got his adamantium skeleton and the runt is decidedly lighter and easier to carry. One of the corpsmen approaches where she tends to Logan, only to fall in the same ignominious cloud of blood. Fortunately for Logan, Jackson and Silver Fox, the cover they'ved move behind seems to be out of the sniper's sight.

As Tex starts firing his ghost-guns and mounts his ghost-horse, the tree-line suddenly erupts. A group of men in battle dress that looks nothing like what the PAVN have been sporting. Almost like hi-tech armor, their faces are concealed by something like gas masks. One, with pale white skin the color of chalk and long, blonde hair appears to have foregone the mask protection. He runs ahead of the others, unloading his assault rifle in the direction of Tex. Like a specter himself, moving across the battlefield.

Behind him, one of the masked men shouts out in what sounds like ... Russian? "Rossovich, vernis' syuda! Stoy!"

In the fox hole, Logan stirs once again to push Silver Fox and Jackson's hands away from his chest.

"Pull ... the fucker ... out ... you ... cuh - ... "

Then he's out again.

Tabitha Smith has posed:
"Just grab some pliers and yank the damb bullet out Fox. Logan's sobbing is pissing me off." Maybe, just maybe yanking the thing out will let him heal but she's not saying that outright. The woman shooting back as best she can to give Fox cover while humping Logan out of line of sight. Otherwise it would be a very bad idea to have gone after the man while bneing shot at. Jackson moving to help Fox lug the little lug around getting a frown.

Cowboy riding off at the sniper just gets hert head shaking. "Fucking idiot is getting shot next." she curses as she scrambles to grab one of the rifles. "And the horse he rode in on!" she adds as it gets very crowded out in the trees.

This leaves Kimura in a bind.

Fucks really aren't given but then she has to explain why her team got shot and killed while they were sitting on their asses. It's Vietnam, it happens.

"Motherfuckers..." she groans and starts firing back where she can.

In the open.

This would be a dumb idea for anyone else. Kimura however not so much.

She can manipulate the density of her body, to the point she can pass parts of her body through solid matter. This is not as handy for avoidng gunfire.

She can however become dense enough that those bullets just pancake against her body. Her uniform might not be so lucky but she's fine and as she stands over the top of that fox hole trying to cover everyone the impacted rounds just drop down to the ground at her feet.

Alison Blaire has posed:
"Shut it, Kimmy, I got this. If you could please kill the people shooting at us, that'd 'actually' be helpful!" Now that she's thinking again, Silver starts putting two and two together. If he's not healing, there has to be a reason for it. Something is preventing it... the only thing it could be is the bullet lodged in his chest, "Alright." Logan confirms it with his shakey words and momentary bouts with consciousness, which he is definitely not winning. "Alright Jackson, I'm going to make a cut big enough for you to get your hand in there, I want you to find that bullet and yank it out. Don't worry about hurting anything... just find it and pull it out."

She's calm now.

She knows what she has to do... lifting her fist, from which a long six inch retractable blade errupts from betwixt her middle and ring finger knuckles. She makes a hastey insetion down the center of Logan's chest and reaches down to peel the skin back witha grimace, "Jackson, now, find the bullet!"

The Russian words behind her... she hears it, but she's focused. The bullets wizzing past, an abstract that can be dealt with later once Logan is healing and they're all organized to absolutely destroy these dumbshits.

Rogue has posed:
"Come on, come on! Wooo! Woooo! You fuckin' commie fucks!" Tex can be heard shouting over the mayhem as he is riding alongside the treeline, his hat sometimes flipping up off his head, only to get grabbed by a ghostly 'hand that just reaches up and puts it back in place. The Cowboy just keeps riding fast as his spirit mount will take him, weaving and jumping over obstacles in its path!

"Russians!" He shouts. "We got armored Russians here!" He is screaming back toward camp now as he turns and starts riding back, ducking beneath what he perceives to be incoming fire trying to get him!

He turns, now armed with a ghostly rifle that he starts firing automatic spirit bullets out of! Each round screams out of the translucent weapon, creating a cacophony of haunting howls from where Tex rides by the camp now!

Kitty Pryde has posed:
"Me pull the bullet out!?" Jackson protests for a moment, before relenting and giving a slight groan as he looks down at Logan as Silver Fox makes the incision. Jackson turns suddenly, bringing his arm up to cover his mouth as he sneezes again.

He pushes his fingers down inside the bullet holes that Silver Fox has widened. It can't feel good for Logan. For that matter it's not a highpoint for Jackson either as he feels stuff squishing around inside there.

In later days the tale of how he retrieved the bullet won't involved quite so much grimacing or digging around. Though eventually he does find it and pull it out. "It's in one piece," he says after cleaning it off enough to tell. Thank God he doesn't have to go back in after fragments.

He hastily wipes his bloody hand on his fatigues, leaving a streak of red alongside the cloth nameplate that has his last name, 'Hamilton'. Jackson grabs his rifle and slams the magazine in, checking that it isn't loose where he had just started to disassemble it. And then he leans around the crates, opening fire on the enemy!

Logan Howlett has posed:
Tex leads a charmed life, it seems. The Russians turn their weapons on him, the repeated barking of assault rifles, yet their bullets seem to miss him and pass through his ghostly accoutrements. His rifle, on the other hand, does an excellent job and two of the armored men collapse in a heap once they're struck. The masked lay there in the dust, bleeding out slowly.

"ARGHHHH!" Logan howls as Silver Fox deftly cuts him open, wrenching forward to try and pull away but lacking the strength to do so in this weakened state. As Jackson pulls the bullet out, it's clear that it isn't an ordinary one. It appears to be made of a strange, pale metal that is oddly warm to the touch. The blood that covers it steams and bubbles in Jackson's palm.

Screaming out in pain, Logan uncontrollably lashes out at Jackson. Thankfully, his claws seem to pass through nothing but air. The wound is already beginning to knit itself together, the Canuck sitting up and breathing heavily. He looks to Silver Fox, hoping he's speaking loud enough for Kimura to hear.

"Those aren't normal bullets ... "

Several more marines have joined in to lay down a base of fire, but the blonde Russian without a mask seems to continue advancing all the same. A few yards out, and he extends an ungloved hand towards the rank of marines. To a man they drop their guns, slumping forward and gasping for breath as though struck at once by some immediate illness.

"Don't engage him," Logan urges Silver Fox, flinging himself out of the fox hole and charging the blonde where he stands over several of the dead or dying marines. As he runs, his hands extend to either side and sinister-looking claws pop out from his fingers. The blonde takes another shot, but this time the Wolverine sinks sideways to avoid it before the pair begin to fist-fight in a cloud of dust.

Tabitha Smith has posed:
By this point Kimura. She really hates it when everyone calls her Kimmy. That's the name given to peppy blonde cheerleaders that end up fucking Jody back in the world while you're in the shit.

At least she has targets to take out her frustrration with. The Sniper with the weird ammo making Logan stink even worse than usual. That's her first target. And she their next as another shot rips out trying to get at Logan.

Kimura takes it to the head. And it knocks her down but unlike Logan the Madripoorean woman is a lot sterner. She just likes up her next shot and fires.

The rilfle used and then the shooter falling out of a tree as the impenetrable woman. In more ways than one to Cowboy's chagrin draws that knife to start wading in. Slicing anyone that she gets near.

They're the lucky ones as an apparent Sergeant finds himself collapsing while the woman phases a hand through him and removes his brain from his skull.

The next closest.

She rips out a man's heart and shows it to him before he dies.

Alison Blaire has posed:
Fox knows the response Logan will likely have upon waking and shoves Jackson back while the sneezy marine is inspecting the bullet... Now, however, the Wolverine whole and she nods at his observations, "Gathered that. Never seen someth-" It doesn't matter, "-Good you're not dead." She claps him on the shoulder and peers up and over the side of the foxhole. There's plenty of soldiers out there, including the blonde one Logan has just told her not to engage. "He's all yours."

Which isn't to say some of them are not all hers.

She leaps over the edge of the foxhole with her cloak bellowing and pulls a pair of modified M1911a pistols from cross holsters in the small of her back, unloading three bullets point blank at a rushin russian. Another turns to fire at her and she ends him with an unaimed shot that hits right between the joints of his armored helmet and shoulder.

Running and gunning with a disturbing amount of accuracy, she closes the distance betwixt where she was holed up and where they are advancing. Close enough that combat is too short range for their rifles, but deadly as hell for her pistols. She ducks and weaves beneath the stock of a rifle swung at her head and stabs the barrel of her right held pistol into the unarm of the Russian who attacked her, crack-crack. The last two bullets in the clip fire out and her thumb releases magazine with a sliding leaver as another soldier runs at her. The gun spins on her finger and comes down like a hammer in the same fluid motion she's dodging to one side, catching him on the oposite side of his neck, puling with the other hand gripping the muzzle of his rifle to direct him and his weapon around.. the rat-tat-tat-tat of his weapon absolutely obliterating a row of his own men.

The gun spins back into her palm, fresh clip slapped into place, and the slide yanked back to rack the first round... Just in time to point it directly into the face of a Russian who was coming up behind her. Cool Brown eyes staring into his, understandably, startled blue, "My oba soglasny, chto u menya bashnya pobol'she, verno?" He nods, she nods, "Go on, geat..."

Rogue has posed:
Cowboy sails over top of one of the barricades at the camp after shouting at Logan as he rushed by. "Don't get yourself killed, you still owe me another round'a cards!"

Back out in the new field of battle, Tex rides past where Kimmy is located, shouting "Watch your ass, Hot stuff!" And raises his rifle up to blast at some of the Russian soldiers marching out of the underbrush!

His ghostly ammunition passes through the armor worn by the enemy soldiers, and passes through their bodies as well, but on their way through said corporeal flesh, it just tears it open, rends flesh to a wet ash as it cuts down the Ruskies like unholy hellfire ammo should!

"Woo! You sonsabitches bit off more'n you can chew here t'day!" Tex shouts as he rides his ghostly beast between a set of trees, ducking beneath one of the branches only to lose his hat again, but once more it is caught by that spirit hand that reaches out of his shoulder to jam the straw hat back atop the rider's head!

Tex ends up near to where Logan is embroiled in his fisticuffs brawl! He starts providing Logan some cover fire as he rides around them, only to end up on the eastern side of them.

His ghostly mount reers up as Tex hollars with a excited glee!

"Logan! If you take that commie fuck down, I think you'll finally earn my respec---"

Tex's head is blown in half by a round of Russian fire. The exuberant Cowboy is sent falling back off his horse, the horse screaming in a spiritual yowl of pain as it fades out of existence, and its rider's body drops in to the tall waving grass, a streak of brain bits and bloody juices streaked across the ground.

Kitty Pryde has posed:
Jackson Hamilton sniffles to hold back the next sneeze. He's a cool customer under fire. Not just then. He never sweats even in the steamy jungle, the man seeming able to control his body temperature even in the fetid heat of the Southeast Asian bush.

He takes aim, firing again and again. Bullets impact the crates that he is firing from behind, though he doesn't duck or shy away even as the bits of wood shrapnel are flying through the air.

Lowering his gun for a moment, Jackson makes little squeaking noises like he was trying to imitate a gerbil or something. After about 30 seconds, small jungle mammals being darting out of the underbrush.

A gibbon runs and jumps on the back of an enemy soldier, beating at his head. A catlike large-spotted civet darts from a bush to sink teeth into another soldier's ankle before darting away as he turns and fires at the ground, hitting his own foot. A pair of mated binturongs, nicknamed bearcats by the American troops, rush out to hamstring another soldier, as Jackson resumes firing, covering the little animals.

The sounds of a pair of soft impacts on the ground just behind him catch Jackson's attention as he's reloading. He turns his head, seeing a pair of grenades lying there in the mud. "Oh shi-"

The loud double explosion shakes the nearby tents.

Logan Howlett has posed:
Out in the dust, the blonde man with the chalk-white skin has Logan pinned on the ground. He kneels over him, one knee planted in the middle of his chest, and savagely pushes down on a knife aimed at Logan's throat while the Canadian keeps the blade from his flesh by clasping both hands around the man's wrist.

"On byl mne bratom!" the demonic-looking blonde hisses through his teeth, "Ty umre--"

The sound of Tex's voice and the sudden burst of fire draws Logan's eyes and, glancing up to look at the Cowboy in time to see him torn apart and the ephemeral horse vanishing. The blonde atop him lets out a cackling laugh, and Logan turns his eyes back to meet those of the Russian soldier and his expression is livid.

"I butchered him ... and I'll fucking gut you."

SNIKT.

His claws pop, passing through armor and flesh. The blonde's eyes widen, and with a gasping cough of blood he tilts to the side. It's then that the explosion rips through the camp, prompting Logan to his feet. The last of the Russian soldiers, sidearm drawn, fires several shots into the Wolverine that prompts him to fall backwards and away from the stricken blonde. He's already dragging him backwards, towards a black-painted Mil Mi-4 'Hound' helicopter with no identification. Loading him onto it.

Even as fire rips through the camp, and only those few members of Team X seem to remain.

Pausing, Logan crouches by the half of Cowboy that's nearest to him. He crouches, reaching into his pocket and producing a Zippo lighter? He looks around for a moment before carving a rough 'X' into the metal with his still-bloodstained claw.

"Shit."

                       Westchester, New York

                              Modern Day

Logan look at the Zippo, as the memory of how he got it dawns on him.

"Careful with that, right?"

Rogue has posed:
"Harsh." The Bele says back to Logan as she is removing her aviators and folding the gold limbs back down, to tuck them in to a pocket on her jacket. Jeepers come rushing back over to her and hops up on the side of the car to try and get at something poking out from one of the boxes inside it. Rogue baps at the dog to get him to stop that, and then reaches inside to pick up the box herself. "Huh... interesting. Logan stuff. I didn't know you /had/ stuff." She says, now reaching for a bag to add atop the box.

She turns back toward the house and starts to walk with the others to catch up. "Come on, Jeeps!" She calls out, the dog barking once and rushing to get through the door before Rogue can, like it's some kind of a dog-game he plays and nobody else knows about!

Tabitha Smith has posed:
There's a grin when Tabby is warned about looking after the lighter and with the the experience of knowing trauma reccolection when she sees it, and maybe a little flash of memory via that telepathy Tabby nods her head and flips the lid.

Instead of just throwing it in the box, she just moves to slide the thing by hand into the pocket of Logan's pants. "Then maybe don't put it in storage. Some a this stuff gonna be mantle worthy!" she states.

Somewhere in the house Hambone suddenly gets an urge to call his family.

Empty hands, Tabby just goes to grab a box and start hauling things inside. Amazingly she's a little less snarky for a change.

Wonder why?