27/The Breakstone Slasher

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The Breakstone Slasher
Date of Scene: 19 February 2020
Location: Breakstone Lake
Synopsis: Logan and Rogue talk about their shared belief that Xavier's is a cult, and other stuff!
Cast of Characters: Logan Howlett, Rogue

Logan Howlett has posed:
It's late into the night, and the frozen lake in the woods behind the estate sits silently. The students are pretty much all snug in their beds, as are most of the teachers and staff. The new groundskeeper, however, isn't a fan of sleep. That's when the dreams and nightmares come, and they are always confusing.

He tugs up the collar of his thickly furred jacket before he shields a match from the chill wind. Logan brings the match to his cigar, taking a few puffs to get it started. The short Canadian sighs softly to himself, the man only a thick sillhouette, outlined from the lights shining from the nearby deck of the boathouse. For the moment, at least, tired as he is, he relishes the silence.

Thank goodness nobody knows to look for him out here.

Rogue has posed:
Rogue had gained the power of flight and near-invulnerability two years ago and though she had Carol's knowledge and experience of how it all worked, she didn't have much of it herself. SHE had previously been terrified of heights and the idea of flying around kind of freaked her out. But now that the Brotherhood had shown violent interest in returning her to their ranks recently, and with her arrival here to Xavier's and the talk of her joining whatever team they have going on here that protects mutants... Rogue has started to feel its time to work on her fears and get past them.

So Rogue suddenly lands on the frozen lake and slips and falls on her butt! She slides across the frozen tarmac at high speeds and comes to a sudden, and snow poofy, stop near the side of the docks Logan was on, having slid RIGHT past him.

She even squealed. A little. Before disappearing into the snow bank!

A second later and she's shaking the snow off and crawling out of it on her hands and knees, wearing winter clothing with a thick dark jacket, a wool knit cap and fluffly gloves on her hands, snow boots on up to her knees and dark trousers. "I thought I'd already gotten past the lake." Rogue mutters, since she knew Logan was there, trying to get up to her feet again.

Logan Howlett has posed:
He glances up as he watches Rogue land. He expects it to be a graceful touchdown, and he prepares to make a snarky comment about it. That isn't what happens at all, though. Logan turns to the side to take in the feet sticking out of the snowdrift. He smirks a bit as she pulls herself from the snow.

"You need to get GPS or somethin'," he grunts. "Maybe a compass?" He plucks his cigar from his lips and flicks the ash into the snow.

He leans against the deck rail, watching her for a moment. He glances from her towards the direction the house is in. "Trouble sleepin'?"

Rogue has posed:
Rogue is back on her feet and stumbling across the snow covered ice now. Not worried about slipping now that she is getting better with her flight power and her balance, even if it didn't look like it a second ago. She huffs out a laugh at what he says as she moves over toward him and stands beside the dock now, placing her hands on the wooden edge of it. "Probably just shouldn't fly this late at night. Plus, god its so cold up there." The cold doesn't /hurt/ her, but it does numb her which feels very strange.

Rogue's pale green gaze looks back to Logan and she flashes a smile at him. "Yeah, nah." She looks in the direction of the mansion through the edge of the woods. "I feel... wrong in there." She states then, looking back to him now. She shakes her head slowly. "I ain't neve'ah lived in a place that nice before. It feels like I... like I broke in and am squattin' in some rich person's digs, or somethin'. I feel like they're about t'flip on the lights, scream and call the cops on me."

Logan Howlett has posed:
"Feels like you're waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under you, right?"

Logan places the cigar back between his lips, and he nods a bit. He doesn't seem bothered by the cold at all, but he's still dressed like a burly little lumberjack, regardless. Or perhaps the cold does effect him, and he simply doesn't care. The latter is more likely, knowing him.

He takes a few puffs on the cigar as he glances over at her. "Not quite as bad for me out here, I guess. Hell, when the wind shifts and I can't smell 'em all, it almost feels like I'm out in the middle of nowhere out here. I like that. It's when I catch some kid's voice that all that goes out the window. Plus, don't you think all these people are too nice? Like...I dunno...they're up to something?" Oh, Logan.

Rogue has posed:
Rogue watches Logan adjusting his cigar and it makes her react by reaching up to open her coat and reach inside. A second later she pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a cheap bic lighter. She takes her glove off so she can work with all of that, getting it lit and all and once it is she puffs on it once and then grins at him. "My aunt used t'have me ride with her in her car durin' Christmas time t'go out and drive past the rich people's homes t'see their wild Christmas decorations. I always wondered what it was like t'grow up like that. With a castle around ya every day, no worries what so ever. Must feel like a fairy tale." She places the cigarette back between her lips and glances back toward the school.

Another puff is had and Rogue looks back to him, then to the beautiful boat house that they're beside. "These people don't know how good they got it. Some'a them anyway. Jean is nice and all. Scott's kinda scary. The Professor is... I dunno, he's like a cult leader, but a really... like ya said 'too nice' kinda cult leader." She huffs out a heavy sigh. "I like it here, and thats what unsettles me. Not sure I deserve t'be here."

Logan Howlett has posed:
He listens quietly and then nods a bit. Some folks see Logan as gruff and terse and...well, okay, he is those things. But his often rough silence also makes him a good listener. Even when he isn't listening, his silence makes him a good sounding board. Someone who it is easy to work your own issue out with, while he rarely interjects a word.

He puffs on his cigar and nods a litt, looking out over the frozen lake. "That guy's a psychic, isn't he?," he asks. He plucks his cigar from his lips, blowing smoke out into the frozen air. "Pretty sure that means he knows what you deserve. The thing that worries me isn't that it's all a lie. I'm more worried it isn't. What do you do with the information the people that actually care like this -exist-, huh?" He growls a bit and rolls his heavy shoulders.

"And not sure how I feel about the Scott guy..."

Rogue has posed:
More casual cigarette enjoyment is had as Logan replies and she looks from him to the boat house, admiring its architectural design while taking in what he says. "Yeah." is her standard initial reaction to it. She draws her eyes back to him and dabs some of the ash down into the snow at her feet on the frozen lake.

"He'an Jean have been helpin' me with my--" She then taps the side of her head with her middle finger on the hand she's holding the cigarette with. "All'a the people that I've ever absorbed in the past four or so years that my mutation has been... 'improvin my life' are still rattlin' around up there, and they've been helpin' me sort through it all. I'm startin' t'feel... I dunno... more relaxed than I have in years. They're both psychics. But, I dunno, Jean seems scarier than the Professor t'me. Like she's got some heavy burden on her heart. Maybe she comes from a shitty background like you'n me." She states then with a grin given to Logan.

"Oh, hey!" She perks up as she remembers something. "I was in Salem Center the other day, meetin' some guy who I met at a bar--" That sounds like trouble. "But there's this guy at a auto-shop who's sellin' his truck and it had a Harley bike in the back. Made me think'a you. If you're lookin' for a new ride. I got a little money... I could give it t'ya, I feel like I owe ya." Because the Brotherhood destroyed his other truck!

Logan Howlett has posed:
He nods as she talks about how they're helping her. "The Prof looked into my head and..." He shakes his head. "Nada. Zilch. Some kinda block he doesn't understand. So, I'm shit outta luck. I'll probably take off next week or something, once I've rested." Logan says it with determination, but it's the kind of thing he'll say often. 'Goodnight. Sleep well. I'll most likely kill you in the morning'. That kind of thing.

"Jean's got somethin' going on and I don't know what to make of it. Never really -got- women to begin with, and psychic ones? Forget about it," he growls. "I like redheads, though."

He takes another puff of his cigar and then arches an eyebrow at her, glancing back over. "You don't owe me anythin', kid. Really. I have a bike stashed a few towns over. Put it there last Summer. Never thought I'd be back this way, though."

He shakes his head again. "Keep your money, kid."

Rogue has posed:
The main thing that sticks out to Rogue, of what Logan just says, is the possibility of him skipping out on this place. She's immediately torn on that idea and there's some internal struggle with the concept of it. "You won't... you won't ditch me here will you?" She asks him then quietly. He might get the sense that she's, albeit always trying to act tough and independent, but actually worried that he'll leave her behind.

"I mean, I get it, this place isn't your kinda scene. It really isn't mine either. Its just..." She draws a breath of cold cold air in as more snow starts to fall down around them again, its that quiet calm kind of snowfall, rather than blizzard-y. "Its comfortable here. As much as I was sayin' I don't feel like I belong here, its kinda nice t'have a hot shower whenever I want it, and food that nobody screams at me for if I take any of it."

She shows a tentative little grin, but it comes and goes. "I'd prefer it if ya stayed too." She doesn't have many people she trusts, almost nobody in fact. But she's clearly latched on to him, to some degree.

Logan Howlett has posed:
He furrows his brow a little bit and takes another puff on his cigar. He flicks the ash into the snow and looks up at the dark night sky. He's quiet for a moment, and she can tell he's thinking. WHAT he's thinking is a bit harder to tell, however.

"Alright, kid. I'll stick around a bit longer. For you." He sighs softly and steps back from the rail of the deck before he turns towards her. "I guess I should see if they'll need my help with all of that superhero stuff too, huh? What do ya think?"

Rogue has posed:
Rogue finishes her cigarette and she puts it out in the snow on the edge of the deck, then drops it into the little metal case that she pulls out of her coat pocket. "Have you heard about their 'Danger Room' in that weird ass basement of theirs? One'a the others was tellin' me about it. Apparently its a trip. Really good for trainin' our crazy abilities." She seems perked up at the mention of him sticking around for her too. "Maybe we should find out if they'd let us in there, see what kinda place it is? I'm... I've had these powers for a couple years now and I haven't really ever unleashed with'em. I've been too afraid've it all. I'm startin' to think maybe I should wipe the cob webs off'a them. See what happens next." Rogue grins to him then as she rocks back and forth on her booted feet.

Another glance is given to the school then she looks back to him. "I guess I better get back, try'n get some sleep before I turn around and the sun is up." She exhales a puffy white cloud of steam from between her lips. "You should too. Gotta keep your strength up right?" She says in a little flirty way at him, with a sly grin too. She's good at that stuff, after all!

Logan Howlett has posed:
"Danger Room? Huh. Nope." He cocks his head head a bit, listening to her explain it. He smirks when she's done and puts out his cigar on the bottom of his boot before dropping the remainder into an ashpot on the deck.

"I think you're probably better at askin' nice, Rogue. You go ahead and ask. If they say yeah, then sure. I'll take a peek." He rolls one of his heavy shoulders, the shorter man looking up at her, and then away.

"It's easy to be afraid of yourself when you can kill so easily," he says. It's pretty clear he doesn't just mean her, though. Very obvious. He glances down at his hand as he opens and closes his fist, before laying his hand on the cold wood of the deck rail, and he leans again.

"Alright. Get yer beauty sleep. I'll be here. You know where to find me." He had awoken from an odd dream involving, of all things, himself dressed in samurai gear in some weird Asian temple. He could barely remember the details now.

"Do me a favor, though. Hit that library they've got in there tomorrow. See if they have any books on samurai? Don't ask."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "I'll be fine awake."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue puts her glove back on her hand, wiggling her fingers into it again and as she starts to turn toward the pathway that leads out of the edge of the woods toward the school's backyard, she looks back at him and grins. "Samurai, huh?" She asks, then nods. "I'll do that. I'll find out more about this Danger Room too. Name like that?" She slowly shakes her head. "Ain't no way I'm not gonna ask more about it."

With a little wave, she turns around and starts to move with a little skip in her step before she sliiiiides across the ice through the line she'd made in it on her butt minutes ago. "Night, Logan!" She calls out as she starts up the shoreline bank and toward the path!