Owner	Pose
Logan	Communication is everything. However, communication done in odd ways may have interesting results. Storm is left a note. First it has a set of coordinates. Next is a road map with a very particular route highlighted in blue. And finally there's a note, "Angry. Upset. I'm heading back to the beginning of it all. Try to sort something out in Canada. I'm in a Jeep. You can join me, angry and needed to go. I should be fine by the time you catch up," and Logan will only deviate from this at rest stops. At least Ororo Knows where he's going. The man left behind everything she could use to track him, basically. Everything about Sabretooth rattled him. And the best way to fix that, go back to where it all started. Sadly, that means bringing up a bunch of baggage.
Storm	Well. At least he's going to take his anger out somewhere else that isn't the school. Is Storm's first thought as she flips through the coordinates, map and then reads the note he left. Odd way to communicate things, but messages on phones can be tracked. These could be burned and no one would be the wiser. Still, she decides to dress comfortably enough before making her way out of the mansion and walking a bit before she takes to the skies to follow the map that Logan left her. Course, if he's in the Jeep, that means he'll be stopping every so often. Depending on the timing between when he left the note, then left the mansion, to her finding the note and heading towards the spot mentioned...she may make it just before he does, or perhaps a bit after. There's really no way to judge. Though, even a flying mutant has to stop at the Canadian border - which she does because she's no criminal. That might buy Logan a bit of time, depending. Eventually she'll make it to the spot the coordinates lead her to. The question really is where they are and if Logan is already present.
Logan	The coordinates take Storm toward a clearing in the middle of the woods. A place with rough terrain everywhere, just making her way through the dense trees. Eventually she'll get the first clue she's in the right area. A piece of stone embedded into the ground. There's a bit of moss on it, but a casual glance is what casues this to sing to her. There are three distinct claw marks on it. Storm knows where these come from. Logan eventually makes his way through. The boots meeting the ground move through the woods and he has to push aside branches. Will Storm wait or go toward the epicenter of the place? But it's clear Logan's going back to a very personal part of his life.
Storm	Storm pushes through the foliage and the forestal thickness until she comes across the mossy stone. She crouches down and runs fingers over the claw marks before looking up and around - getting a good idea of just what this place is to Logan. She hears those boot steps, knowing that it's Logan making his way through the trees, but she stands up straight and continues. In a way she wants to get to the epicentre of this place before he does - if at all possible. He wrote in the note that he would be fine by the time she caught up - but is that going to hold true if she technically beat him there?
Logan	The Epicenter looks like a facility that saw a mixture of a fire and explosion. While there is some overgrowth, the remnants of concrete is there. Lots of scorch marks in various parts. Rubble ina lot of places too. And various bites of stone with those claw marks. They go in the patterns of threes, but the natur eof the pieces make it hard to see what's a seperate cut and what might be connected. Everything is in shambles. There's a story here and it's a violent one. A night involving fire, explosion, claws and presumably blood shed. The diameter of the rubble and burns. This is a facility that did something to him. Maybe a lot of somethings. And the note did say "Start." Sabretooth might have similar skeletons here. Logan has shared information that him, and Sabretooth share a lot of old wounds. The expereinces are a little different, but how they got there do share a common root. All of it just screams something really bad happened here. By the time Logan makes it there, he doesn't say "Hello." The only question that comes from his mouth is simply, "Wanna take a guess at what happened here?" Logan looks at Ororo giving her time to digest all of the chaos. Obviously, he -knows- or has a good idea what happened here.
Storm	Storm takes it all in, indeed. From the stones with claw marks to the rubble made by explosions and the remnants of burnt and twisted metals made by fire. Of course, the fires have long burnt out. The facility long abandoned with no evidence that anyone tried to rebuild what was destroyed. As if they did what they came to do and then left the rubble behind in memory. Or perhaps some sort of effigy. She feels Logan's presence as he steps up beside her before actually hearing anything come out of his mouth. When all he asks is a question, she shifts to look at him in almost a side glance. "If I had to guess, knowing your history, I would say this is where you went from being just flesh and bone to getting your bones covered in adamantium." She offers this simply and then turns her gaze back to the chaos in rubble. "How far off am I?"
Logan	"How far off am I?" is the question that Storm poses back to Logan. They're both at the epicenter of where Department K once stood ages ago. Scattered pieces of the facility Not enough to tell a full story, unless someone was there. Stories about an old bunker during the ware trickeled in slowly. Nothing that patience, time and death couldn't help solidfy. Eventually the place become one of those old abandoned spots that "had always been there." Bits of concrete are the first scenes of the facility. These concrete pieces havemoss and other parts of nature covering the pieces. As one weaves closer into the epicenter of this "bunker" the debris grows. The closer one gets the more these pieces atart to have more than claw marks. Scorch marks, scars from explosions and other bobs start to fill until someone makes it to the center. It looks like the center of an explosion or where a massive drill target. White spreads out almost looking like spreading toward a central point. Even on a sunny day like today, as long as someone knows where to look between the trees, they can find the pieces. Those stories about a bunker has a few layers of rumors layered over it. Some say an explosion. Other say it was hit. Some say an accidental weapons test. Basically, those in high places created a few stories and let time turn them into a giant game of telephone. Now, they're rumors about a distant past not too many care about. That's where Storm poses a question to Logan. They're clearly talking about the place, "More than that, but yep. Creed was there, too. So were some others. We were bein' conditioned into Weapons before the metal got injected into me. Some of the memories are fake, so I don't know what to trust, darlin'," he admits. A bitter pill to swallow. "What I can trust is me, Creed, n' a few others were changed in this place. Can't quite trust the hows, just the aftermath." The words coming out laced with anger as Logan keeps swallowing that bitter pill. him and memories are a sore subject. Especially at this site in Canada. Although, he's not the only one that may find bitterness in this place.
Victor Creed	Victor was not a happy man. That was true in a general sense, but walking these halls, after the psych-surgery Essex had done, just rubbed his nose in things. "I still thinK Creed's the better candidate." said a scientist. Thin, flabby. Arrogant, in his own way. "He's dangerously unstable. You do this, you'll be creating a monster." said another scientist. Wire-rim glasses, stank of cheap booze and nervous sweat. "What about the other one?" this scientist asked the first. "Howlett?" replied the first scientist. "Could work. We'd at least be reasonably assured he'd survive the process." he pointed out. "So would Creed." retorted the second scientist. "Bigger, faster, stronger, more focused." said the second scientist. "More deranged, you mean. Howlett's controllable. Responding better to Ferro's ... processes." the first scientist said with a shudder. "Less blatant sociopathy." Victor wanted nothing more than to reach into the past and gut both of them. Assholes.
Storm	"But if Creed knows you were here...having practically the same thing done to you both...why are you both hell bent on destroying each other?" Storm asks as they continue to look over the carcass of a building that once was. "Of course, I could never fully understand what any of you all who were here went through. I can only empathize with the memories as you share them. Work through them." She also knows it can't be easy, having those memories surround your mind. Much worse when you don't know which memories are real or fake. "So why did you want to come back here while feeling upset and violent? Are you hoping to find some more answers among the rubble?" It's likely not the best way to put that question, and maybe Logan will appreciate the brashness of the question. Storm isn't sugar coating things, she's not offering a way out of the memories. If nothing else, she'll likely help push him through them. Being here as an anchor just in case they try to pull him in too deep.
Logan	"Creed killed someone else we worked wit'. He blames me fer the death of another. Plus, he wants us to be allies, but only if I'm more like him," Logan says honestly at the question. "We worked well together, but there's rumors why they picked me instead of him. Might be jealous 'bout that, too," although he questions those scientists choices back then consider his last encounter with Creed. "He liked who I was, not who I am," and Logan's not sure he can believe all of the stories.
Victor Creed	Victor's in the tank room, staring at the now-empty and slashed all to hell tank where they'd done the deed. His rational part - shut up, Victor's mind had a rational part - knew that if it was him instead of the runt that it wouldn't have gone well. Part of Ferro's work at the Weapon-X conditioning was to give him mind stability. Sanity, in its own way. They didn't want anyone that wouldn't fight, couldn't fight, but they wanted someone they could use as, well, a weapon. Point him at the bad guys, let him do what he did best (despite what the runt said, _he_ was the best at what they did) ands then come home with minimal collateral damage. He knew that ultimately, that's why they'd went with the runt. He was the better man. And even all these decades later, it still hurt. Still burned.
Storm	Storm begins to walk towards the building. Even as rubbled as it is, some parts do still stand. And they aren't going to make any progress just standing on the outside looking in. Course, neither of them know that Creed is somewhere within the rooms that still even partially stand. "So you went one way and Creed went another. But every time I hear stories about this place - which is few of course - it always seems that Creed was someone who used his anger as his fuel. Where as you used your anger as well but somehow you were still able to channel...something else. Compassion maybe?" Not to say that Creed isn't compassionate... But he's not going to win any Man of the Year award anytime soon... She stops in her steps and looks back. "You came here to find something. Might as well start searching."
Logan	"Don't know. The placed turned me into a weapon. Maybe that's why they chose me, easier to make into one," he looks at the place and watches Storm move out of view. "There's a reason why my head is wrapped in barriers that take people a while to crack," Logan speaks candidly on that one. That's completely by design. A scent will eventually run up Logan's nose. A "Shinkt" pushes forward and the claws will extract. He won't say anything yet. The smell could be a memory from the past, but that's something he prepares for. A rare possibility. Even know that's an extremely low chance, but he doesn't want to jump to conclusions just yet.
Victor Creed	Creed sniffed the air, and caught a whiff of ozone as well as a certain metal-coated runt. Great. Welp, if he was going to work on his little self-improvement project, now was the time. He casually climbed up into the ruined control room overlooking the tanks and rather than try to cram his bulk into the wrecked office chair, he took a cross-legged seat on the control panel. Most of it was wrecked anyway so he was in no real danger. While he waited for the runt and the wind-rider to get over themselves and show up, he pulled the dossier folders he'd found and sorted them into two piles. He was in no real hurry and the only thing he was focusing on was keeping his claws _in_ and hoping that Logan's girly didn't fuck up his piles by whipping up some wind.
Storm	Storm doesn't have a heightened sense of smell, but she does hear the telling sound of Logan putting out his claws. Turning to look back in the direction she left him in, her eyes narrow before she turns back and continues walking. "Well. No matter how thick the barriers, we'll try to crack yours one layer at a time." She offers in matched candid while continuing to walk. No wind - she cannot simply summon a gust at her desire. But she does begin to feel the air seem to thicken. Not with weather, but emotion, which sometimes can churn the air just the same. "I don't think we're alone here..." Mentioning that as she reaches to touch a wall, almost wishing that she had more mental powers rather than being able to borrow weather patterns on occassion. Walls could talk, and she's mindful of the countless stories held here within the twisted metal.
Logan	Logan starts to move around the building, slowly, expecting some kind of trouble. However, that comment from Storm earns a glare. If she gave that look back toward someone, there would be the crack of thunder following it. Oh, Logan's mind is that way for a reason. No one is going to get inside of it. That's when he slips into the building, the movements slow. Following the scent of Creed. If any of the old eletronics work, Creed might know he's getting closer. However, once inside the ruins he may be easier to smell and track. Going into the old training grounds, Logan fends off a lot of memories that want to push forward. Real, or fake, is irrelevant. This is the trigger for those. Shaking his head, he pushes forward trying to ignore it all. He can fight this for now. Maybe the mind would give him a new target to work with.
Victor Creed	The scent was getting stronger but Creed was resolved to sit this one out, sort the dossiers into the Him pile and the Logan pile. He thought about torching them - again - but after Sinister had shown him the horrors of his life, he was trying to get better about that kind of thing. Not that it wouldn't happen, just that it'd take the runt pissing him off but good before things got to that point.
Storm	Storm realizes that she's now alone and trying to perhaps find two people within this place instead of one. Mostly because she is now certain that someone else is within the rubble and Logan is tracking them down. Which means she likely needs to make quick work of finding where people are before they decide to try - again - to beat the shit out of each other. She's likely missed the training room and after this turn or that has made it within the control room. A pause in her movement as she looks around, not able to see the memories attached here - but even she could feel them. The ruins left behind. Memories stamped deep within the now scattered ruin and rubble. Her eyes shift upwards toward the control room and she tilts her head. "Victor."
Logan	Logan is blissfully unaware of Storm's approach in the skies let alone the words that slip past her lips. He's just getting closer to the control room, but he's not quite there yet. Those ocean blue eyes taking in details as he moves through slow while fending off past memroies wanting to push forward.
Victor Creed	Creed had finished sorting his papers into their two respective files and before things got potentially windy - or bloody - he made sure to neaten up the Logan pile to a military standard. Still holding the claws in, sitting cross-legged so he'd be at a disadvantage if he got rushed. No guns on his person or nearby. Sure, there was some debris he could hurt but c'mon. That'd just be shabby. "Hey, kid." Creed said as Logan turned the corner into the tank room. "Sure did a number on this place when you busted out." he said.
Storm	Storm tilts her head while watching what she can see of Creed and since he didn't immediately jump up and attack her, she decides to take a chance on faith. Moving through the control room up towards the command center, her steps are cautious but she's casual in her approach. There's no reason for her to be on the attack or the defense at this time. Sometimes, a peaceful approach is best. "You know. For being at each other's throats every time you see one another, you and Logan also tend to have the same thoughts and ideas... like coming back here... I take it there's a reason that brought you here and not Logan's scent. Otherwise I suspect you would have attacked him before giving anyone a chance to find you."
Logan	Logan pauses when Creed says "Hey, Kid." And then storm is inside talking to Creed. Fighting off the anger, the rage and the desire to just rip out Sabretooh's throat. Ocean blue eyes settle on the blonde haired man. His gaze slips between the pair. Just waiting to see what the words would do to Creed. Eventually Logan will speak, "Why are ya here, Creed?" Logan knows his own reasons for being here. Creed being here, that's something of note. And why in the control room instead of around a corner to start round two. Something about that sticks out to Logan. It's the other reason he's waiting.
Victor Creed	"Remembering." he said honestly. "Got a little something here if you want it." he said, patting the neatly sorted stack of paperwork. "Got someone we both hate to go digging around the Team-X blocks. And some other shit. So I'm tersting to see if it's more bullshit or if he was being legit." he said by way of an explanation. "Storm." he said, figuring it'd be safer to use her code-name rather than get familiar with her. That could lead to lightning and while he'd heal, that shit _hurt_.
Storm	"Suppose that all depends who it was you went and saw. I can only imagine the list of names for people you both equally hate." Storm offers before shifting to lean back against what appears to be solid-enough wall. Looking at the stacks, then to Victor, then to Logan and back around again. "At least this is proof enough that you two -can- be in the same spot, at the same time, and not try to rip each other to shreds." Pointing that out to the both of them and then she motions - since she's technically closer. "Mind if I approach and take that stack you're talking about?" Almost like, regardless of the two being in the same room together, she doesn't want to test that tension snapping.
Logan	Anger is bubbling in Logan right now. He wants to just let loose. However, Storm is there being diplomat plus Creed is talking. "What did ya find?" Logan asks, but the emotion bubbles in the voice despite how empty it may sound. It's the lid ona boiling pot going forward. There's certains small signs. Little ticks in certain words, or how he breathes. His ocean blue eyes look up at him, "Gonna give me a cop0y of it, or what?" Logan expects this to be fake or jerked around. He's trying to fight off emotions, too. If Creed suspects Logan wants this, then it would be trouble. Logan just watches Storm as she begins to take over. He thinks she's like a negiotar in a divorce or hostage situation. Trying to work between two volatile sides.
Victor Creed	Creed held up the dossier with "James Howlett" written on it. Then he extended it out to Storm to take if she was so inclined. Of course, she'd have to come inside his reach to make that happen. Creed wanted the violence, because it was comfortable. Familiar. Logan shows up, there's blood on the floor. His, the runt's, didn't matter. Someone was gonna bleed. But he was doing his best to sit on that urge, play this calm. It was a new approach for him and he wasn't sure if he liked it or not.
Storm	Storm pauses for a moment. It's a brief pause, but it's noteable. Then, she moves forwards and upwards, into Creed's space. To be able to reach for what he's offering and take it from him. Then she stays there. Not moving away. Not moving forward. Just standing where she stopped. "I get it. The both of you want to tear each other's throats out... I'm actually proud of you both for not doing that." She pauses and looks between them. "So far..." She looks over the files in her hand and then looks between Creed and Logan. "Seems to be a lot of background information on you, Logan..." She offers, flipping through the papers a bit more. "I'll hold onto them... at least until we get somewhere else." Like a hotel. Or his cabin. Or something. But if things go south here, she wants to make sure these papers survive.
Logan	Logan doesn't quite jolt, doesn't quite jerk, but there's a brief motion forard, but he stops. The feet remain where they're planted. Those ocean blue eyes looking at the name. He knows that name. And then the strangest thing happens, Storm takes it. Part of taunting Logan with something like that is the unknown. Creed is, by default, an unreliable source. However, now Logan's questioning the legitimacy of the documents. How much is real? How much is fake? "And yer game is?" Logan asks bluntly because this seems too charitable, too nice. Basically, a big bunch of good will that's very far from Creed's character. "What's yer angle?" he nods to the files Storm's rummaging through.
Victor Creed	"Had a lot of the Ferro blocks peeled out of my skull. Part of that was to make me what they wanted to be. Maybe I'm tryin' ta figure out what I want me to be. Sound familiar, Logan?" he said simply, with no heat or malice. "Still love the killin', the smell of it, the feel. But maybe that's not what I gotta be. Maybe that's just another implant." he said. "And maybe it isn't and that's just what I am." he added a moment later. "And before you start feeling all warm and fuzzy, still hate your midget ass." he said with a quick fanged grin. "Maybe that one's permanent, maybe that's more psychic bullshit. No real way to tell and I don't dare go back to the guy who unblocked me some." he said. "Figure if I do that, I will end up as a drooling tardbeast killer."
Storm	"So you're trying to see if you can turn over a new leaf and not be subjected to whatever mental blocks they put in your head." Storm doesn't ask this more than just puts it in a statement. "How very interesting." She looks down at the papers again, not really reading them but more flipping through them again to gauge how many there are. Once they're elsewhere it will be a very long game of figuring out the truth within the lies. Or the lies within the truth. Or a little bit of both. "So. That's it then? You've come here to try and uncover some things, figure things out in your brain, and it's just sheer coincidence that Logan and I came at the same time?" There's skeptism in her voice, but why wouldn't there be. The two of them are the best at tracking most anything. Especially each other at times. "And we're going to be able to leave. Just like that. No fights. No bloodshed. Just a couple of random cheap shot insults?"
Logan	Logan smirks, "I wasn't expectin' ya. I blame ya fer some death. You blame me fer another. I wasn't expectin' to be friends. You owe me a bike, too," and there's a shiver of anger that goes through him. "I think ya want to change, but ever think why they didn't pick ya? Maybe ya just couldn't," because Logan knows he was molded into a weapon. Does that mean for better, and worse, mean Creed is unable to change. "Kknow what that means? They couldn't change ya.That means yer mind, mostly yers," and that's the sad irony. Maybe Creed couldn't? "But I've been wrong before," Logan turns and starts to walk away. Just leave Creed with those thoughts. Besides, those would wound more than any claw could. It may be cruel, if they land, but Logan's going to relish in it.
Victor Creed	"If it makes you feel any better, Quinn trashed mine. As a prank." he said with a shrug. "Didn't know this place existed until it got unlocked." he said. "Wanted to come see it for myself, see if I was remembering the real or the lie." he said with a shrug. To Ororo, he gives a fangy smile. "Make you feel any better, we could throw down right here, right now? But remember, you asked for it." he said, still sitting on the ruined control bench. "So bring the lightning, Storm. Or walk away in peace. Your choice." he said philosophically. Part of him - a larger part than he wanted to admit it - wanted to throw down. Stop thinking, stop poking open wounds from decades ago, just give in to the bloodlust. But he was gonna make her open up the can of whoopass.
Storm	Storm raises a brow, turning her gaze to watch as Logan begins to walk away after saying a few more words. Then her attention turns back to Creed and she gives him a little smirk. "Maybe some day, Victor Creed. Today is not that day." Because Storm will always choose peace and compassion. Maybe she'll regret doing so here sometime in the future. For now, she turns and begins to walk away herself. "And if you ever care for a chat instead of a fight. To help work out some more of those new found feelings... you know where to find me." Are the words she will part with as she continues to walk, quickening her pace a bit in order to catch up to Logan who was already paces ahead of her. A peaceful end to a moment with Creed feels...almost wrong...but in the end, she's satisfied with it.