OOC: Log: Logan
X-Men: Movieverse 2 - Friday, January 16, 2009, 7:50 PM
-------------------------------------------------------
=XS= Logan's Room - Lv 3 - Xavier's School
A fairly large room this, with a queen sized bed in lieu of twin student ones heightening the illusion of space. There's a mahogany dresser and armoire to match, with a small entertainment stand, containing a TV, stereo, and DVD player, rounding off the furnishings. Through a door flush with one side wall is the bathroom, equipped with a bathtub and separate shower stall, as well as a large closet. The outside wall features a wide bay window, letting in outside light. Several items in the room stand out from the otherwise hotel-room-bland decor; an old WWI knife, a conquistador's helmet, and a polished set of Japanese daisho, or wakasashi and katana. On the nightstand is a deceptively ancient looking book, a collection of Japanese haiku written on delicate rice paper.
[Exits : [O]ut]
[Players : Logan ]
Something has drawn Jean up from her basement lab with a mind radiating excitement over something. Alas, she's the only adult telepath currently in the mansion, so there's no-one about to share it with. Happily, there is an alternate plan, involving all the time-delay between leaving her lab and the knock on Logan's door that's just sounded, and so the school is spared the mess of cleaning up after a headmistress who's gone and burst. Knock knock knock-- "Logan, you've got to see this!"
Out in the corridor, the scent of Jean is mingled with the scent of... mouse?
There is a hollow thump as Logan rises from the edge of his mattress and lays a ragged, worn, torn hardback book on his end table and makes the small walk over to the door. Metal clicks against metal as the doorknob unlatches and swings open, "Everything alright, Jeanie?" His eyes aren't worried, exactly, but curiosity and confusion are mixed somewhere in his hard brow. The invitation inside, is of course, automatic.
Jean has her hands cupped around something, and her eyes alight behind her glasses. She's not even bothered to lose her lab coat, buttoned in terribly-stylish plain white over the jeans and sweater of lab work rather than the business attire of teaching or politicking. "More than all right," she assures, stepping in with a bright beam. "Look!" Her hands open, revealing the murine resident within them. It's a mouse, all right. It is also the owner of a familiar shade of blue fur.
Excitement and joy of that magnitude is contagious, especially from a certain red head. While the confusion and curiosity very much remain as Logan bends down slightly to look the little critter on a more eye to eye level, a slightly amused smile manages to compliment them. "Is there something new about Hank we need to be aware of? God I hope I don't have to send flowers." he half jokes as he waits for further explanation about why this little easter critter is here just a tad bit early.
"No, no, he's fine," Jean assures, a bit quickly as it dawns on her that not -everyone- in the mansion is a mad scientist. The mouse, presented with a new human face within sniffing range, scrabbles up to perch on the edge of her hands and twitch its nose curiously at him. "I just managed to get induced expression of the mutation for blue hair colour. It's not much -- it's not like it's the X-factor causing it -- but it -does- mean I got the right genes in the right order into Mortimer here." (Apparently the mice in the Grey lab get names, if they're good.)
Its an odd sort of bonding that Logan attempts, one animal to another, inspecting smell matched with his own. 'Hello.' it says 'I'm not going to eat you.' But once his own curiosity is satiated, Logan stands up straight again, attention given to the other mammal in the room. "The mouse, erm... Mortimer, you made a mutant mouse?" And though this particular resident of the X-Men still hasn't gotten his head around just how big that concept it, he is at least a good enough boyfriend to twist the confused look quickly into a congratulatory one, his own excitement hollowed while his mind is still processing Mortimer here, "Great!"
"Well, a -more- mutant mouse -- the mutant mice with just X-factor have been up and running for--" Jean stops, laughs, and leans in to sneak a kiss, hands closing around the longsuffering mouse again. "You are good to me," she informs him, drawing back.
A deep chuckle answers the kiss, though little else for fear of chasing the little guy around the mansion for a week. "Sorry, Red. 'Fraid I won't measure up much against Hank or the other lab monkeys, but it really is great, as long as you don't expect me to put him in one of my classes next." The hidden away mouse is again considered. "So is there a little bit of Hank inside the guy?" this time a little more serious, and as sciency as he can manage the question.
Indeed, and explaining to Xavier just how the genetically-modified rodent colony got established would be embarassing for all parties involved. Jean claims a seat on Logan's bed, cross-legged and with the mouse granted controlled freedom to scamper along her pant leg, and gives a tiny nod. "A little. About three genes' worth, out of the tens of thousands that go into making a person. Or a mouse." One finger rubs gently at a bright blue but still mousey head, and her eyes settle on Logan's worn old book. "Catching up on some reading?" she wonders.
"Its nothing." Logan answers as he shakes his head, though the tone clearly states that it isn't 'nothing' at all. "Book 'bout this guy named Tom Tefler, 'bout the time he spent in Japan after the War. I don't know why, just keep readin' it over and over again."
"Sounds more interesting than nothing," Jean muses, free hand reaching over to trail a finger across the book's cover, while the other scoops up a certain blue mouse intent on investigating Logan's coverlet. (In good time, too. A small wet patch blossoms on her crisp white lab coat when the mouse is placed upon it.) "Does it seem familiar to you?" she wonders, not quite diffident, but with a little caution mixed with her curiosity.
"Careful, Mickey." Logan warns the mouse as his eyes harden on the moist spot, though the threat is mostly mocked. The cover of the book (what is left of it) sports a black and white photo, a group photo that has been cropped onto the author, Corporal Tefler, his wide grin white and slightly crooked. He's the only person in the photo that can be made out, though, as the rest of the people standing around him only contribute their arms, shirts, and shoulders to the composition. "I don't know, but when he talks about catching shade under the trees, and wiping the packed cement off his hands, its almost like I can hear the ocean, and the rusty bicycles riding by." For a curious mind that can afford to be more currious than most, this particular image echoes rather vividly at the surface his mind, almost lucid.
"He -could- just be very effective at capturing imagery," Jean offers, but in the tone of one doing their duty and presenting the null hypothesis. The mouse, proving rather more rambunctious than she cares for, is popped into the breast pocket of her lab coat to hopefully nestle in, nap, and pee less. "But I imagine, if not, there have to be some records out there from the time. The post-war reconstruction of Japan was as much political show as humanitarian."
Logan simply shakes his head. "Been down that road more than a few times, Red, never find anything good at the end of it." For now at least, the tone holds dismissive, his 'no, not this time' holding considerably more authenticity than his early 'nothing' and 'great.' "Best to hold onto the good news we got for now. What is in store for the blue guy now, anyway?"
"Well, Bahir al-Razi and I are working on a little project to try and understand just how the X-factor is activated," Jean answers, letting Logan's answer to her question stand, although her eyes are concerned and curious behind her reading glasses. "Mortimer and his line-mates are going to be involved in that. I'll probably be spending all the time I can in the City," she admits. "Between that and Outreach work, I'll probably be putting in the bare minimum of time here outside of class and headmistress-stuff."
"Better reason than most," Logan agrees, though the low grumble that accompanies it expresses his disapproval at the idea of much less Jean than normal. Or maybe it was just directed at al-Razi... or maybe both. "Guess I should ask whether you want me here keepin' an eyes on things, or if ya want me spendin' time in the city in case ya need me?" While duty and responsibility back the first option, hope backs the second.
"I admit," says Jean, with a brief pat at her lab coat pocket, "That even if I don't technically need you in the City, I can very easily make up plausible excuses ." Hope shines in her eyes as well, and flickers in the furtive smile she shares with him. "I'll probably toss out the teacher-coverage question at the next staff meeting. Consider it incentive to be there and not get stuck with all the curfew shifts no-one else wants?"
"Alright." Logan answers with a much better mood than a moment before, and a sly grin creeps across the old wolf's face, letting slip a 'Hrmph' that could have been the hint of a laugh. "Heck, it'd be worth it just to see Slim's face when I actually show up for a staff meeting."
"I'll be sure to keep a pillow ready to slide under his head before it hits the floor," Jean promises, with a twinkle in her eyes and a sigh as she rises from the bed. "I'm going to tuck Mortimer back into his cage, and then get the mouse pee off me, but I'll drop by once I've got my marking done." After a pause, this promise, paired with a light brush of her fingers against his cheek, is thoughtfully amended with "...assuming nothing catches on fire."
Past mysteries, future discoveries, and mice with poor bladder control.