Snikt

🍻-- He had been wandering the archives for what was most certainly far too long trying to figure out where the book went back to. By this point he was getting fed up. He'd thought it would've been simple to remember where he'd gotten this from... Was the age really getting to him without his healing factor there to offset things? The same way the Adamantium now needed to be counteracted by medication. On second thought, this was hardly his fault. The library was damn big and had way too many books packed into each floor to be reasonable.

Logan looked up when someone spoke. Down one of the aisles. What did this guy want? - He knew that he was on edge from being dragged into this situation.

The frustration was smoothed as he was told that the book he held belonged there. He looked down to it, and his brows raised high.

He was going to be cordial when the second half of the statement, however, caught him. He paused as he was about to put it back. Logan's head tilted up. His expression grew even more soured. He knew that he should play nice and that he shouldn't really be picking fights where he didn't know what people were capable of and where he didn't have any sort of field advantage (Not that he needed it or cared. He was used to being at a disadvantage). But now he was actually offended, and he shoved the book none-too-carefully back into the spot that had been pointed out. The guy spoke as if he were personally messing up the book orders on purpose. (It crossed his mind that maybe he should just for the sake of it. Right in front of this guy too). He glowered up at the man who quite literally looked down his nose at him. "Thanks."

However... being told that he wouldn't be leaving soon was unsettling to say the least. It was enough for him to eye the other man when he was just going to leave. "And what do you know about that?"

myst  stares ,  dipping  his  brows  a  margin  lower  at  the  sight  of  books  forced  out  of  their  ORDER  by  the  man's  frustration.  a  neat  line  unceremoniously  set  to  disarray.  chaos.  in  it ,  there  is  a  brief  wonder  over  what  had  went  wrong  to  provoke  such  a  reaction  —  was  it  something  he  had  said  ??

he  could  ask ,  perhaps.  people  become  so  easily  distraught  over  very  little ,  after  all.  ALAS.  the  thought  becomes  eclipsed  by  a  different  query ,  and  it  settles  a  cold  blankness  over  his  expression  like  first  snow.  a  blink ,  then  another.

"  what  do  i know  about  . . .  WHAT  ?  "  myst  finally  returns ,  bringing  the  tome  in  his  hand  to  a  close.  "  about  souls  ?  about  the  fact  that  YOU  are  an  island  resident  ?  i  suppose  it  doesn't  matter  in  the  end. "

he's  said  far  too  much.  knowing  this ,  the  abbadon  heaves  a  sigh.

So this guy play dumb, wold he? Acting like he didn't know exactly what Logan was talking about. He was already irritated with all of this, wishing he had his claws. He hated feeling them under his skin but not being able to pop them out.

"About not leaving soon. The 'island resident' junk. You're sayin' it's like a play... Pretty terrible play if you ask me." He was more upset by the fact that he'd recently learnt that many had been here for years with no sign of getting back to where they came from. Just... acclimating to being trapped... Personally, Logan didn't do well with feeling stuck and trapped. At least there was some nature he could go out into when he felt the need - he also disliked the fact that he'd somehow been stripped of everything that was, more or less, a comfort to him. Turned into a human. He didn't like it. Not one bit.

He'd never really been a mutant who was concerned with how far he 'drifted' from humanity. He'd made a sort of peace with all of it ages ago. Tried to live with it. Work with it.

The guy looked like the sort who frequented this kind of place. Logan, on the other hand, knew that for his own part, he didn't really look like the sort to step into a tea house at all.

After a moment, he gestured with a nod towards the seat opposite his own. "<Yes, go on.>"

It rolled off his tongue as naturally as if it were his own first language. It had been a while since he'd spoken Chinese, but he knew enough. Could probably be considered nearly fluent, but wouldn't say that himself. It was only thanks to the way he'd gotten around over the years that he'd picked up any languages other than English and Canadian French at all.

He would have picked up the pot and extra cup, but Logan hesitated first once the man had gotten himself situated.

There was a brief flicker of pleased familiarity in golden eyes when the other man spoke. In this realm, though disparate their original tongues may be, all that was "common" language across myriad universes seemed to have become one, save the slight accent that distinguished those of different realms-- but other tongues as well, Zhongli had noticed, were also made parallel. It had been some time since he encountered someone who spoke Liyue's local tongue, even if in an accent that could not be placed within his nation's borders.

"More important than the specific varietal is the technique with which it is prepared," he replied, "and I happen to know that this teahouse's staff are well-versed in the preparation of each leaf they sell. Sencha is fine."

Taking his seat then, Zhongli considered the other before him as he lifted his cup of tea. Setting it down once more, he spoke, "I do not believe we have met. You may call me Zhongli-- I am one of those called 'Echoes' by the people of these isles. Perhaps you, too, are a guest from afar?" A brief pause, gazing out toward the sea, across a harbor so unlike his home, yet one which had now grown familiar. "How do you find this world?"

Logan poured another cup and passed it over. The man was right. Preparation technique was more important than the varietal made. If prepared with the right technique, just about anything could taste good. "Everyone's got different tastes so I figured I'd ask."

...And then he nodded, more of a frown tugging at his lips.

"Yeah. I'm one'a those Echo people too." It was more of an irritated grunt than anything else. He also looked out towards the harbor for a moment. Contemplating as he was asked what he thought about this place. "Think I've been in worse spots. Not really liking the whole 'chosen ones' vibe they've got for us here - always thought that was a load of shit. Never really ends well for the people who get picked."

Sometimes it didn't end well for the people who did the picking either.

"How d'ya get stuff back in this place?"

That was when he started feeling it, that tingling and numbness and sickness that certainly didn't come from the alcohol. He frowned. Grunted. Gripped his drink a little tighter. Had he taken the pills yet today? He'd already died once from the Adamantium poisoning. Logan mumbled under his breath, "Shit. Jus' a sec..." He rummaged in his coat for the little bottle, popping two pills and chasing it with the watery alcohol in his hand.

Well, he could deal with the discomfort until the pills kicked in.

He observes that motion coolly behind that single blue eye, notes it for later, but takes the whiskey. Badou isn't much of a whiskey man, that's a man's drink, a hard boiled drink.

So he's going to do his best to be cool and not choke! He only coughs a little after the initial first sip.

"Storms.. I've handled storms.." Sandstorms were commonplace in the desert. And while rain was new to him, he wouldn't mind being stuck outside in heavy rain. A snowstorms seems more dangerous, but learning that they were basically frozen rain.. It wouldn't ever scare him. He could never be scared of something she made.

He adjusted the boy in his arms slightly.

"Got a feelin' this'll be a little different than any of the storms you've faced before." Call it a hunch. The kid definitely didn't seem like he was handling the cold weather well.

But now those couple of kids had abandoned him at the table with giggles and of course Logan knew something was up, but... well, he'd stick around even if he was sniffing carefully at the tea. It was still disconcerting that he couldn't smell anything obviously off but he still had the feeling of it. Then again maybe he relied too much on his sense of smell, although he couldn't help that. It was the first thing he'd gone to for a very long time to tell him of anything.

That was when he looked up as he was spoken to. Oh. That kid he'd gotten home a while back. Tethu. He made a face down at the little plaque which said what kind of tea it was. "Got dragged here by some kids but it's fine, I like tea well enough."

He liked it better when he could identify what the spiced aroma coming out of the cup was. It smelled like cinnamon, but with a touch of cayenne pepper.

Perhaps too used to relying on his body being able to simply withstand poison or other problems, Logan took a tentative sip. It was warm, a little spicy, floral too. He grunted slightly and settled back in the chair, craning his head first back to look for those kids who he soon found were raiding another table - then he caught Tethu staring at honey cake (or rather everything available). After a moment, Logan reached out, putting a honey cake on the partially loaded little plate in front of Tethu. "You wanted that, right, kid? You should celebrate. Everyone else is."

He looks over to the younger kids at the other table, practically devouring the treats and leaving not even a crumb left. Some kids had approached him as well, but it was moreso out of curiosity. It seems seedlings aren't really known here, since they were shocked by his horns (and his small height).

Tethu lets out an observant hum. Nostalgic, in a way. He used to be dragged into all sorts of things when he was younger, enough that Nour kept an eye on him with other kids. That was when he couldn't say no to anybody even if his life depended on it. But, he's done better since then! Heck, he can even- Oh!

Tethu immediately noticed the cake being placed on his plate by Logan, along with the comment that came with it. "I-I am! Don't worry, I am! I mean, not the first festival I've participated in, haha! Heheh..!" The seedling blurted out, flustered that he was essentially drooling over that cake so obviously that the older man noticed. Oh dear, that's embarrassing..!

"I just mean you're young and you shouldn't be restraining yourself so much. Kids're should " He said it casually, sipping from the little teacup and still trying to get a read on exactly what flavors made up the tea he was drinking. It was weird. It seemed so dull without the usual ability to tell ingredients apart.

Those instincts he so relied on weren't saying that this was dangerous, but then again, without his senses, he'd been struggling to get that instinct to tell him much of anything. Everything just seemed like muddy water...

He glanced back towards the kids who had brought him here again but they'd moved on to elsewhere. Honestly, Logan was half-temped to just scoot back and leave when -- "T-Thank you, um.. Logan, right? That's your name?"

🍻-- In honor of him getting his enhanced senses back who wants a starter with the guy who can smell your emotions and hear dog whistles?

Dog is the victim of severe physical & psychological abuse from his drunken father Thomas, who actively discourages his son from befriending the wealthy Howlett’s whilst planting the seeds for Dog’s own toxic behavior throughout the rest of the series. Rose is an orphaned child whom despite being welcomed into the Howlett mansion to serve as the nanny for a sickly James, feels evermore isolated & lonely due to the class & generational divides surrounding her. And young James, despite being born into a life of wealth & privilege, is also suffers from loneliness due to both his father and grandfather constantly arguing over their contrasting methods on how to manage the family estate, while James’ mother is emotionally neglectful of her son due to severe trauma & mental illness.

🍻-- In honor of him getting his enhanced senses back who wants a starter with the guy who can smell your emotions and hear dog whistles?

Somehow it was a comforting idea. To think that, maybe, that part of him wasn't anything to do with the Thomas Logan inside of him. He didn't know if he could deal with being that close to the man. Seeing his face in the mirror every day was bad enough.

He took a deep breath.

The salt of the sea filled his nostrils.

The tea house by the sea was a more tangible comfort. They opened early in the morning, stayed open late in the night. He was able to breathe. To sit and soak in the early morning: the salt on the wind, the birds, the still-rising sun. It was relaxing. Peaceful. Definitely more peaceful than most mornings. It reminded vaguely of his time in Japan. Both with Itsu just after the war, then with Mariko later on. Sunlight glinted off of the water. Was this what it could have been like if he and Mariko had made it to the altar? Maybe…

Logan slowly poured himself another cup. He savored the gentle, earthy flavor as he looked out the window. The tea wasn't half bad either.

In the years he had spent on the isles, Zhongli had gained a bit of a reputation. Not only a reputation for spending freely while forgetting his wallet-- there was also the fact that he had become known as a sort of "unofficial tour guide" for newly-arrived Echoes.

It wasn't a position he had intended on taking up. Rather, it was simply the fact that he remembered every face he ever saw, and thus it was rather easy to keep up to date on who was new, and who was not. Couple that with his curiosity, and his fascination with making connections with those from faraway lands-- faraway worlds even-- and it was only natural that he would end up approaching those newcomers he happened to cross paths with.

Well, he already had some experience as a tour guide, he supposed... though it wasn't quite the same, since the isles lacked the shared history of his homeland. Still, Zhongli would do his best.

It was especially convenient when he came across newcomers naturally-- such as today, in the little seaside teahouse where he spent so many mornings and afternoons that, had it not been for the other busyness of his "leisurely foreign retirement," he might have nearly been considered part of the furnishings.

The guy looked like the sort who frequented this kind of place. Logan, on the other hand, knew that for his own part, he didn't really look like the sort to step into a tea house at all.

After a moment, he gestured with a nod towards the seat opposite his own. "<Yes, go on.>"

It rolled off his tongue as naturally as if it were his own first language. It had been a while since he'd spoken Chinese, but he knew enough. Could probably be considered nearly fluent, but wouldn't say that himself. It was only thanks to the way he'd gotten around over the years that he'd picked up any languages other than English and Canadian French at all.

He would have picked up the pot and extra cup, but Logan hesitated first once the man had gotten himself situated.

At the moment he was sat in lotus position out in the woods, surrounded by trees and rocks and wildlife. He'd needed to get away from all of the relative insanity that came by way of metropolitan spaces. He needed to be in nature. He needed to be around the animals. The hike to the wilds had been a bit of a journey, but it was nice to be in a decently secluded place - or at least it was more so than any park, regular forest, or the Ather Reserve would allow.

Feeling something comforting around him was what he needed. Not hundreds of people and scents that he didn't recognize. Thankfully, no matter where one went, forests and the wilds were mostly the same.

Breathing deep, his nose filled with the smells of animals and the woods around him. Earthy, low smells. The scent of petrichor still lingering from days ago, the tracks of animals that had been in the area several weeks prior. There were plenty of other animals too who were slowly coming around curiously or minding their own business.

He could still hear faint sounds from all the way off in the fields, but they weren't intrusive. There was a deer a ways off. Birds in the trees. A whole bunch of little critters rustling the grass. He could also --

Logan opened his eyes then, turning his head towards the new scent and sound of someone approaching the little area he'd laid claim to for the moment. Well, it had been nice to orient himself for a little while. He stood up, brushing dirt and grass from his person as he pulled on his shirt again.

At least he wasn't doing it all alone. Being here has taught him more than anything else.

🍻-- A short exhale through his nose was enough as he recognized the footsteps even before Uriah had come through the underbrush. Well, he supposed that it would only be a matter of time before someone came looking for him. Logan had been missing from the townhouse for a couple of days while he sorted himself out. Packed a rough bag and hiked out almost as soon as it all came flooding back.

Usually he did just fine enough at keeping a lid on it all, but having his senses come back like that had done a number for that caged animal feeling that cities could often give him. - Not that he didn't want to participate or do as man did, but...

Logan grumbled slightly as he looked up at the traitorous predator circling them. And he'd told her to keep it hush and that he would be back in a few days. No sense in worrying the kid. He'd even left a note though it didn't really explain anything.

"Ya don't have'ta do that. Pretty hard t' come by real quiet when you got senses like mine. Besides, I kind of got it outta my system now."

🍻-- In honor of him getting his enhanced senses back who wants a starter with the guy who can smell your emotions and hear dog whistles?