[ sniktx3 // logan ]

[SMS: 🍯🦡] u bitch n moan like u ain’t got healing powers podna

and yet, now here he sat in some diner that was up way too late--so late that he could hear the crickets outside and there was not another soul in sight aside from the cook in the back who was no doubt waiting for one of them to come up and finally order. how long had they been sitting there?

fury wasn't an lmd; he was him. basic human with a jab of super serum and who knows what else since coming back from being something unseen. but in the end, what was he? just a guy. a guy with a bigger closet than anyone in the world probably, with a hell of a lot of skeletons hidden deep in it; and right now his company was about this close to taking a step in and slashing his claws against the many bones he had sought to hide from anyone's eyes. he wasn't surprised, just hoping he can avoid a bigger fallout.

" y'know, this place's got some good ass waffles. n' we both got discount, y'know? should probably order 'fore the cook up there falls asleep. "

nick snorted out a laugh as he stared with slightly narrowed eyes. he was going to avoid the subject as long as possible; gauge how logan's feeling first.

   He lays in the branches of a tree, enjoying the cool sunlight dappled shadows that shift with the rustling leaves. For a moment, David Haller feels peace. He knows it is a brief thing because unfortunately he’ll soon have to think about the next problem. In this case it’s finding a place to sleep. But he doesn’t let that bother him, not right now. He just wants to watch the dance of light and shade across his eyelids.

   A soft chittering warns him of an incoming gift, courtesy of a pair of squirrels that scamper up the tree and deposit a brown bag on his chest. He cracks open an eye and sits up, one hand moving to scritch the ears of one of the squirrels and the other grabbing the bag. Sure, he telepathically controlled them to go find him something to eat but that doesn’t mean he won’t be thankful to them. David sits up, opening the bag to find a sandwich sitting inside, still wrapped in cling wrap. He grins, pulling the thing out and unwrapping it.

    “Please be kosher. Please be kosher,” he mutters, the excitement at getting an untouched stolen lunch getting quickly replaced by anxiety and then mild disappointment when he removes the top layer of bread.

    A chicken salad sandwich. A positive. It has a slice of cheese on it. A negative. With a sigh David peels off the cheese slice before replacing the bread. The moment that slice of multi-seed bread touches the lettuce and mayo another negative pops up. The squirrels freak out and scamper off. He feels their distress. David looks up, frowning as he senses something else. A familiar and unwanted mind.

   David has migrated from his earlier position, awkwardly standing at the edge of the room with a wall at his back and a perfect view of the entire room, to an armchair. He perches on it, long legs pulled up to his chest and back pushed as far back as he possibly can go. It’s uncanny how he’s managed to squeeze all his lanky limbs into making himself as small as possible on this one chair. His one blue, one green eyes are locked on Logan, unblinking as he watches the man move around his apartment. He’s clocking every motion; every object Wolverine touches. He’s even made a mental note of where that switchblade ends up.

   Hyper vigilance. Hyper awareness. It’s exhausting and he’s already had a tiring day. The slightly tender spots on his torso that are freshly healed bullet holes are a testament to that. He’s so fucking glad The Wolf was willing to share his healing factor today. Otherwise, David wouldn’t be sitting in Logan’s living room. And that, in of itself, is fucking surreal.

    About as surreal as watching the perpetually grizzled and gruff Wolverine start patching up his shirt like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Okay, no shade on a man who can sew but David is so surprised by this. There is something delicate in the way Logan’s fingers thread the needle that just feels so at odds with how he usually views the man. This is his father’s attack dog, the feral man that extends his claws before pausing to ask why, and he’s sewing up the many holes in David’s one shirt. Absolutely surreal.

   He stares at those hands, hypnotised by the motions. It’s enough to make his mind forget the rest of the room, to let some of the tension bleed from his muscles. Enough that he’s no longer listening for footsteps at the front door or doing a telepathic spot check of all the minds in the building. It’s enough that for a moment, David isn’t expecting an attack. Then Logan speaks and he jerks, surprised and pulled from his trance.

logan just keeps finding them smh !!!

“ You are safe here. ” <- logan ( @sniktx3 )

safe.

taro didn't moved from their spot, curled up about a foot off the ground on a piece of hard light, staring forward--currently at logan--not responding at first. it should be safe--it could be safe; yet maybe it wasn't. maybe this was some kind of trap. calculations running through their systems as if to predict how likely it was; programmed lie checkers running through as they stared at logan's face. searching for tells, for anything, really.

" i messed up. "

a murmur of sound, barely synced with the movement of their mouth before they looked down. they tried to be as careful as possible when it came to shield--getting near it, being around it. they had evidently not been careful enough. spotted on a few cameras, or detected, or something...they didn't know how long it would take for someone to realize what they were, why they were there. the worst part seemed to lack of anything actually gotten from the risk and now sacrifice of the comfort of invisibility they'd been under.

at least before, shield probably thought they had been decommissioned. broken down in some hole they couldn't find. how long before they realized the kid that broke in was 'it'?