Owner	Pose
Logan	It'd only been a few days since Logan disappeared from the school and made his way North to the bitter cold of Alaska. He had a small place up there, something out of the way where nobody was likely to come looking, and even fewer could find him even they did try. Bundled up in a flannel, thick furred coat with the hood up, and jeans with boots, he's just finished chopping wood to stock up for the fires. While the cold had never bothered him, there wasn't any electricity out here, so comfort was earned rather than provided. Food was hunted, rather than bought. It was simpler, wilder. More true to his nature.. now carrying the split logs in a woodbundle bag towards the side of his single room cabin to stack up with the rest beneath the single window with frosted over glass. Each breath is steamed, cold, but without any shivering. Logan is in his natural habitat.
Mystique	Sometimes there was an advantage to knowing someone who didn't remember themselves, and for Mystique knowing Logan had become something of an art form. Did she specifically know where in Alaska the man had gone? No, for that she used the twins to access satellites and find it. Some might question why the leader of the Brotherhood would actually care about what most called a 'wild mutant'. What difference did it make if we went off on his own into the wilds? The answer was simple. In those times that Logan had gone off on his own, he had lost so much of himself, including his own history and memories. After decades of being on the wrong side of it all, and perhaps even partly to blame for some of what happened to him, the blue mutant had decided it was time for someone to give a damn. Bundled up in a white ski jumper, with heavy coat over the top and knee length winter boots, she appeared in a puff of white mist several yard from the house itself. Instantly the cold struck her as her breath steamed in the air. "What is it with you and cabins?" she called out to make herself known. She knew he would pick up her scent in seconds anyway, but better to announce herself.
Logan	The second Raven appeared, Logan knew she was there. He could pick her smell out of a lineup with just a little upward curl of his nostrils, but he doesn't acknowledge her until she's close enough to speak her question. Still collecting up the wood slabs to return them to the growing pile beneath his window. "I built it three decades ago." He tells her, nodding to the cabin. It was a retreat when he needed to get away from civilization. Which, to him, was arbitrary and uncomfortable. People bothered him and he, by extension, bothered them. So a few years around them and he had to leave or he'd end up hurting someone. It's the natural evolution of things. He pauses in his chores to grab a pair of unopened beers from a bank of snow and underhand tossed one over to the smartly dressed visitor. "What do you want?" It's not as curt as it might seem, it's just direct. No small talk or chatter from Logan. Nobody comes seeking the Wolverine for conversation. The cap is slided off the bottle with a jerk of his wrist and the tip of an claw protruding from between his middle and index finger. Guzzling at it as it begins to foam over the top of the cleanly sliced glass. Arm pulls across his stubbles mouth. Eyes fixed on her. "If it's about Monet's weird sisters, I meant it, I'm not baby sitting them."
Mystique	Shaking her head slightly, Mystique pauses just short of arms reach from where Logan settles. He could still be on her in a heart beat, she knew this, and so did he, but this was more about giving him space while still engaging. It was like a dance, you had to know how not to piss off the Wolverine. "I know what you meant when you said it before," she offers, keeping her hands in her pockets for warmth. "I'm not here about them, I'm here about you." Taking a moment to look around the area at his chosen location, it was beautiful, silent and peaceful, but truth be told it was too perfect. A person could lose themself in all the nothingness, and Logan had already lost too much of himself. "You always worry about what people want from you," she continues as she looks back to him. "Everyone always seems to want something from the Wolverine, be it your fighting abilities, or how you can track someone from one end of the planet to another." She shifts a little in the snow before offering him a smile, "I don't want anything from you Logan, I want to offer you something."
Logan	Logan knew how quickly he could be on her. Even if she were hidden in the dense, snow capped, forest around them, he could track her down and come upon her before she ever knew he was hunting... At least most people. Unlike them, he wasn't stupid. Mystique was just as deadly, neither of them really had any reason or inclination to fear the other. Because they understood the other. He finishes his beer while she's speaking. Guzzling the remains and set the empty bottle down on the window seal. "Is that right." No question, a statement. His hood falls back when he runs fingers through long dark hair, pushing it out of his face. Stubbled jaw, wild blue eyes. He could be mistaken for feral, but for that keen intelligence. "What do you have to offer me?" A hand motions to the surroundings. "That this can't?" Because it was beautiful and he could lose himself here. He had enough of his memories to know that whatever he'd done in his past, whatever others had made him do, this here was probably better than remembering all of it.
Mystique	"Freedom without hiding," Mystique replies bluntly. Sugar coatings and pretty words were for people who needed to hear them, with Logan it was about blunt truth. "For as long as you can remember, right now, other people have tried to control you. They've fucked with your head, convinced you to fight for them with half truths and lies, tried to make you something you aren't." Reaching up she pushes the hood back to reveal her bright auburn hair and to make seeing her blue skin easier. "Mutants like us Logan, we are given three choices in life," she continues. "To fight... either for ourselves or someone else, but never for the whole truth. To hide... from the world because it won't accept us for who we are. For some mutants they can blend in, so their third option is to give up. For mutants like you and I, are third option is to find our own kind and give up." The wind blows across them both, moving her hair and making it dance, but she doesn't seem to mind the cold. "You've heard this all before, and two years ago you would have likely laughed then tried to gut me," she laughs softly at this, because it was the truth. "I'm not that Mystique any more, I'm sure you've seen it and heard about it, and now I'm asking you to give me a chance to help you be you, not what everyone else wants you to be. Genosha is a beautiful place, there are places on the island where you could live out the years alone, yet still among your own kind. The asteroid is another place, filled with those who accept us, want to help us, and are willing to do what it takes to see is thrive."
Logan	Deception came very easily for Raven after so many years turning it into an art form, so it was hard, even now, for Logan to accept anything she says at face value. It's not a disrespect for what she's done to earn trust, either. It's a great deal of respect for how crafty she actually is. Which is why he's quiet, even once she's finished speaking and presenting her pitch... With a hands on his hips, mulling over the offer far longer than he would have even a few weeks ago, let alone several years. There's no way they'd have been having this conversation before. She'd have been attacked the second he smelled her coming. He squints then, upper lip twitching into a feral grin. "I'm not hiding from people, Raven." It's important that he makes that clear. "Not really. I don't give a single solitary fuck about civilization... or mutants.. or anyone." That's only half true. He cares, but not to the extent others do... and he's a far cry from a finatic about it even on his most caring days... Though he hasn't said no. With another twitch of his lip, he points towards the door. "Hungry?" He's headed for it, pushing it open, and stepping inside. It's warm in there. Warm enough that the warmth radiates even before she's followed him. "I went hunting earlier... I hope you're not one of those pussy vegitarians."
Mystique	With a nod to the question, Raven moves to follow him inside. It was a risky move considering he could very well decide to try and kill her, but she was pretty certain that if he wanted her dead, he'd of already tried. "I believe vegans are worse," she comments dryly with a slight eye roll, then starts to remove her coat. "And should I ever become vegetarian or vegan, I would ask that you put me out of my own misery." Laying her coat over the back of a chair, indication that it was in fact not a part of her and thus a real coat, she takes a look around. Some habits are difficult to break, and knowing her possible escape routes was one that had saved her a thousand times. "You're speaking an eighty percent truth," she then says, offering him another smile. "You don't give a fuck about civilization, or people out there, but you do have some care for mutants. The other thing you don't really give a fuck about it yourself, and that's where I come in... because I do." That said, she slides the door closed and looks back to him, "What did you hunt down?"
Logan	Logan snorts into a laugh, quiet, a chortling of his shoulders as he peels of his coat down to the flannel shirt he'd been wearing the other day when she'd seen him at the mansion. At least it smelt clean, in as much as he ever does. In reality he smells natural.. As does the Cabin. There's an earthy aroma to it because everything here comes from nature. Obviously some things were bought and brought up here, but anything he could make, he has. "Yeah." About Vegans, Vegitarians, and what he should do if she ever decides to become one. "I never thought you'd get soft, but here you are." That's a tease, just delivered in Logan's way with a smirk of fangs from his stubbled lips. "Deer." As to what he'd brought down. "Hunting is pretty good up here, actually. Even this late in the season..." More so when you can literally track them by scent for miles. It's already been butchered, most of it in an large wooden box packed with snow and ice from the lake to keep it fresh for longer. "How do you like it? If you say anything other than rare, you can leave."
Mystique	Selecting the chair she hung her coat over, Raven settles herself with a snort and crosses her legs. "I've always been soft and squishy Logan," she retorts, but the look in her eyes clearly counters everything she just said. She folds her hands in her lap and looks for all the world like a blue skinned socialite at a ski resort. The scent that is Logan has never, in decades, bothered her. She preferred natural and real over fake, perfumes had a purpose when used right, but the act of covering up who a person was, right down to the core like that, not her thing. "Rare deer is hard to come by unless you get it yourself, most of the modern world thinks it unsafe," she snorts again, rolling her eyes. She'd eaten rat before, right off the streets of London, modern people needed a reality check. "I love it rare, cooked over an open fire, no need for all that fancy bullshit or culinary impediments. If a person refuses to eat meat in the way our ancestors first started consuming it, they shouldn't be permitted to remain in the evolutionary chain."
Logan	"Yeah and I'm a teddy bear." Logan denies even as Raven's eyes deny what she's saying. With another snort, he grabs two thick slabs of flank venison and tosses them on a stone carved flat with his claws to act as a cooking station. There's not a lot of ingrediants that goes into his cooking, however. Salt, pepper, and some natural herbs. Rubbed in.. and then he's tossing them both on the wire rack inside the herth to sizzle. "Eh.. I've eaten shit raw. Most people have never been starving, so they don't know what they'll eat. You take away comfort and everyone's just an animal with extra drapes." A claw stabs one steak, then the other, flipping them. The lean meat sizzles and pops, not thick with fat, not like a cows flank. It's tougher meat. Usually requires marination, but who has time for that when you have canines meant for tearing into food? Or claws that can literally cut through metal? "Almost done. Beer in the fridge. I have a plate somewhere." One plate. He's domesticated. "You're welcome to it. hope you brought your own fork."
Mystique	Standing to walk over to the fridge, Raven collects herself a beer and pulls one out to offer to him. Gracious host gets a beer for all his hard work. "I've eaten things most civilized people would never consider," she states with a soft snort, walking back to the chair. "I don't need plates, or forks, I have hands," she then offers, twisting the top off the beer to take a drink. "I may play the part of a socialite, have several identities to back that up, but deep down I prefer the more direct approach. I can banter for hours, days, play the game for months, but if I could just /do it/ and be done, I'd much prefer it." Settling back in the chair, she crosses her legs again, watching him tend to the meat on the fire. "I think raw rat is by far the easiest to tolerate, smaller bits of meat and less concern about having to tear it off the bones with your bare hands."
Logan	There's a grunt of approval hearing her say she doesn't require a plate and pulls one of the, still sizzling, slabs of meat from the cooking stone to hold out towards her from the end of a claw. "Here. There's shit to put on it in the fridge... nothin' fancy." She probably won't mind. Once she takes her's, he grabs his, and bites off a chunk with it held between his fingers. No flare, no accommodation for taste, all that doesn't really matter to him when he's out here in 'natural form'. Food for hunger sake. Survival. Until he's licking juices from his fingers and looking around for something to wipe his hands on. A rag, towel, there's a towel. Now he can accept the beer from her and drop down on the seat beside her. Foregoing cutting the top of the bottle this time by twisting off the cap to actually enjoy the taste rather than just guzzle it before it all turns to foam. "You're right." He finally addresses something she'd said earlier that he hadn't touched on, for one reason or another. Maybe just to think about it for the proper length of time. The organic evolution of Logan decision making taking longer, by dent of him living longer. "I do give a fuck about mutants... most of the time.." Better late than never. His nose wrinkles and he brushes a hand across his jaw, fingers turned inward to grate against his knuckles. "Let's say I agreed. I just uproot and head to space or some shit? Do I really strike you as the 'space warrior'?"
Mystique	No pause, no hesitation, Raven uses the sleeve of her sweater to take the meat and thus avoid being burned. She doesn't seem to care that there is now meat juice all over what looks like cashmere, but it is also another indication that her clothing is real and not just a part of her. "I don't need any extras, but thank you," she replies, then blows a little on one end of the slab to start cooling it off. Once able, she takes a huge chunk off with her teeth and stars chewing. Man did she miss the less finer things, like real meat from the woods. There was a time she would have hunted down a deer and enjoyed the process of doing do, and the meat afterwards. A few bites in, she uses her other sleeve to wipe her face, and shifts the meat into her open hand now that it's cool enough. "You most certainly are /not/ a space warrior Logan," she retorts with a laugh. The length of time he had taken didn't seem to surprise her, in fact he could have never responded and she would merely have come back another day. "You don't have to be any kind of warrior for that matter," she adds after another drink of her beer. "You can be you, do what you want, include yourself in nothing or everything. That's the point here, you don't /have/ to be expected to do anything. If you want to live out your life in the gardens of the asteroid, pop down to earth to hunt up some grub, or snikt someone who pissed you off, then bamf back to space, that's all on you to decide." Canting her head slightly, yellow eyes watching his face, she offers him a raised brow as she asks, "I get that you think I'm attempting to use you, manipulate you, maybe even trap you... but I'm not. If here is one person in this world that knows the real you Logan, it's me. I just want to offer you a chance no one else has, even Xavier had certain requirements of you staying at the Mansion. The only thing I ask is if you /do/ snikt someone on the asteroid, be kind and call medical."
Logan	Watching someone eat has never really been a kink of Logan's, but there's a weird appreciation for Raven throwing civility to the wayside in the consumption of near raw meat. That said, he also thinks she's pandering to her, which she might be to some small level. Even if unconsciously. Because Logan is not a very trusting person.. His jaw works from side to side thoughtfully as she explains what she wants, or more precisely doesn't want, from him. "You make it sound easy." It's not. Nothing is ever easy. "Eventually someone's gonna come knockin'.. An' everyone's gonna turn their eyes to me to do somethin' bout it." They'd do that even if he was on Earth, hidden in Alaska, but at least this way they'd have to expend a whole lot of resources he doubts Xavier thinks he's worth anymore. Been a while since any of the people there gave a shit about the Wolverine. Which is fine by him, honestly. His presence there was more habitual than desired... and had been since... 2021? Three years. Three years of going through the motions. His nose wrinkles and he covers his mouth with a stubbled hand to rub it along his jaw with a quiet scrap of bristled hair. "Ill think about it." He finally says, which is far more than anyone could expect. "I just got out of one bad relationship, I ain't tryin' to jump back into a new one..." Factionwise, anyways. See? Logan can be humorous and meta.
Mystique	There were things about Raven that no one knew, particularly a large span of time after her mutation appeared and what had happened. She wasn't pandering to him, she had lived the wild life for years before finding civilization again, but he had no way of knowing that. "So what if they turn their eyes on you?" she asks bluntly. "You don't have to do anything about it. Will I tell you a situation, most certainly, but that's me telling you, not asking you to do anything about it." Tearing off another bite, she takes the time to savor while chewing, then washes it down with some beer. "You can take all the time you want," she then says. Wiping her hand on her sweater again, she fishes into the pocket on the side of her calf and pulls out a solar powered cell phone. Dropping it on the table, she slides it toward him. "It has one number it in... mine," she reports. "It is untraceable, untouchable, and usually unbreakable, but you being you..." she grins at the end of that before next pulling a large handkerchief from another pocket. As she wraps the remaining piece of her meat up, because yes she was taking it with her, she looked back up to him. "Take as long as you want, but I can promise that our relationship will be far more to your liking..." a pause here before she adds. "Better benefits, free alcohol, and of course we have a waffle bar." Humor was never her strongest suit, but she'll take a stab at it
Logan	"Eh.." Logan grunts, inclining his head at her explanation of events regarding things that may spring up. She knows him well enough to know he'd respond by getting involved. Just like she knew he'd listen to her if she came to his cabin. Whoever he was, he's no more that person now than she is who she was only a few years ago. He eyes the cellphone, tapping a finger against his jaw before reaching out to turn it over in a hand. Then toss it back on the table. It's not dismissive, but at least he knows where it is. With the few personal effects he owns. "Our relationship, eh?" A smirk, brow raised, along with his chin in an upward nod. Even going so far as to snort a, slightly anyways, amused way at her joke. "waffle bar. Well now I'm sold." He isn't above a little humor himself. Though it's certainly more deadpan than her own delivery. With a growl, he rolls his neck and shoulders then settles back with a squint. "Fuck you for makin' a good argument."
Mystique	With the meat carefully wrapped, it gets tucked into the pocket of her pants and Raven looks back at him with an amused smile on her face. "The waffle bar is our best feature," she comments, carrying on that part of the joke. "We even smuggle in real Canadian maple syrup because fuck that American excuse for it." Finishing off the beer, she sets the empty bottle on the table and stands up. The joke regarding relationship was left right in that spot, no sense in beating a dead horse and it would only be funny for so long. "Making good arguments is what I do for a living," she reminds him. "Though sometimes those arguments end in gun fire because some people just don't seem to know when to shut up." She snorts lightly. "It's been over a year since I had to shoot someone for no reason, I think I broke my previous record."
Logan	Logan sucks on one of his canines and nods, "There's a maple swamp out there..." Pointing out his window, "You could produce your own instead of importing it." At least he can play along, which is far more conversational comedy than most people could squeeze out of the stone. When she stands, he starts to, then drops back into the couch. There's the extent of his polite host skills, with a foot extending out to rest a boot on the edge of the table. "You know where I'm at." He murmurs, on the off chance that he doesn't contact her and she wants to come take another swing at convincing him. But there's curiosity in his eyes, squinting and relaxing as he watches her get ready to leave. As if he's considering the offer... or any number of things that Logan's consider.
Mystique	Picking up the coat from the back of the chair and slipping her arms into the sleeves, Raven pauses as he doesn't get up and that makes her smile. Logan needed to be Logan, and him standing to 'escort his guest' was really /not/ Logan. "If that's a swamp of maple, I'm taking it all for myself and making the best damn syrup from space," she jokes, zipping the coat up. Her yellow eyes roam over his form in the chair for a moment longer, then she turns and walks to the door. "Call if you want a delivery of something," she remarks, glancing back. "No one else has to know, and I can get you anything you want."
Logan	Smirks at her, turning to look over his shoulder with an up and down inspection as she reaches the door. "That right? Just service delivery right to my door huh?" He sucks in a breath and nods, up turning his beer held between two fingers to take a long drink. Then he does stand up and sets the bottle down, walking around to grab his oan coat which dangles in his hairy hand. "I'm not escorting you out, I'm gettin' more wood for the fire." On the off chance that she thinks he's suddenly fallen into some manners. Image is everything out here in the wilds. "You aint gotta rush off though. The conversation ain't going to be world changin' and my pop trivia knowledge ended somewhere in the early eighties, but I don't imagine anyone else is going to be payin' me house calls." Which doesn't necessarily bother him, even though Wolves are pack animals. Wolverines? Not so much, but honestly he has more in common with the former than the latter.
Mystique	"You escorting me out? Never," Raven snorted, but then does step out with him. "I don't want to over stay my welcome, after all you came up here to be away from things," she adds, adjusting the hood around her neck. "Let me help you with the fire wood, then we can play a game of trivial pursuit, the 80s on my phone." How she managed to complete that and keep a straight look on her face, even as she started to walk toward the wood pile, no one will ever know. It was a talent, a skill, an artform really that she'd mastered through the years, but clearly... she was joking.
Logan	"Ha, fuckin', ha." Logan snort laughs at the concept of playing trivia pursuit on her phone. He tosses his coat on, but doesn't bother zipping it. The cold never really bothered him very much, the jacket was more of a formality than a necessary addition to his wardrobe. It'd look weird as shit if he was out here bare chested chopping would like Naked and Afraid. Because he's not afraid of the a god damn thing in the wilds. "You make fuckin' jokes, but I actually have trivia pursuit." Pointing at the 'entertainment center' of his cabin while stepping back out into the cold. It's mostly boardgames. Monopoly with most of the pieces missing. Trivia Pursuit. "I have no idea why, you're literally the only person who's ever come out here." Wishful thinking, probably.
Mystique	"Oh the board game is so much better than the phone version!" Raven chirps with a laugh, already moving to collect some of the already chopped wood up into a stack. "As for a delivery service, absolutely. DoorDash doesn't come out this far," she then adds with a grin. "You might need more beer after all, and the nearest store is... four hundred and sixteen miles away."
Logan	"I doubt all the pieces are still in the box." Logan grunts, stacking wood himself into a neat pile on a bundle bag to easily transport it from beneath the window to inside the cabin near the hearth. "About half the cards, prolly. I don't even remember where I found it... or why I bought it." Again, wishful thinking no doubt. He always has the best intentions, but things never go that way for him. Bag slung over his shoulder, he starts back inside with a snort. "I prolly should have brought more beer." There's plenty, but it's plenty for a frat party, not plenty for a Wolverine. Who doesn't even get drunk, so he drinks it more like water than alcohol. "Now I have my own personal teleportation delivery service that comes by offerin' me asteroid cabins." "What an amazin' world the future is."
Mystique	Raven laughs out right, no titer or giggle, a real hearty laugh as she walks back to the cabin with him, and even opens the door for him to enter with the bundle. "SpaceDash," she chortles with a slight shake of her head. "When you really need it /now/." She waits for him to get inside then closes the door, making sure its firm before once again removing her coat. "We could go about making up our own game with all the pieces from all those games, but I'm pretty sure I'd break the rules or cheat, and you'd have to snikt me for it."