paradisalost | 002 ✘ [action/voice]

[While there's a part of him still worried that Phoenix somehow snapped his mind or something, or that he's just hallucinating all this, Logan has been more or less talked down from the notion that this is all in his head.

Which means he attacked and threatened a lot of 'figments of his imagination' who ...weren't after all. Way to make friends, Logan. He's hardly about to apologize for it, or explain himself to anybody over the journals. He's suffered enough public humiliation thanks to Julian's pranking.

The pain of hearing about Jean's death - even if it was in a world apparently somehow unlike his own - intensifies his own claustrophobic sense of despondency, stuck here with no plan for how to save her, even if he did get back home.

The whole alternate universe thing is still bugging him. He knows the possibilities of what he could be like, given different circumstances, different choices. Seems like other-Wolverine wound up with the X-Men too, though, and that thought's a little heartening.

Still no word from anyone he remotely recognizes, which leaves him to feel the need to figure out exactly what kind of 'chain of command' he's dealing with around here. He sits up on the roof, one arm slung across his knee as he looks out over the beautiful landscape. It's breathtaking out there, he'll give it that.]

This is Wolverine. [He feels like an idiot, talking to a book, but he sucks it up.] I wanna hear from any X-Men stuck here, see what kinda numbers we're dealing with. Who's in charge of the team?

[He sounds much more level-headed now, as if he hadn't shown up and trashed the place, or broken Julian's nose, etc, etc.

He'd be happy with never speaking about his arrival in general again. After a moment he adds:]

[Laura / X-23]

I wasn't trying to kill him.

[ooc; open over the journals, or action!spam on the roof]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

That much I could tell. What are they made of? [She's more curious about that then how they got inside you, but she'll get there eventually]

It's an alloy called adamantium.

Adamantium? I've never heard of it. What's it comprised of?

Do I look like a scientist to you?

Thought maybe you'd know what it was you were packing.

It'll slice through pretty much anything you can throw at it. That's all I need to know.

Fine, then. [She's just irked because she wants to know what it's made ot] How'd you get it, or was it always a part of you?

Should sound familiar to you. Government program.

They injected it.

[A pause and a then a wry little chuckle.] Same story, different universe, apparently. When'd you get yours?

I was eleven.

[Eleven? Jesus Christ. Awkward pause.]

I don't know.

[Precisely one of the reasons her project was classified.]

You don't know? You know why you don't know?

Edited 2011-03-02 20:46 (UTC)

I mean I don't remember.

[Her turn for an awkward pause, although it's only external. Mentally she's running through any possibility she can think of that might cause that, based on her own experience. It boggles her, though, because - for her, at least - the when and the how were so intimately connected, almost a coming of age process.]

That's got to be rough. [Some of the edge gone from her tone]

You caught the part where I said they pumped that stuff into me, right?

Some things are better off not remembered.

If it was anything like mine, I think I'd have to agree. [At least by the time the Spartan-III program rolled around, they'd been able to create an augmentation process which was 100% successful. Still didn't mean it was a pleasant experience.]

It coats my entire skeleton. Not a place on me they didn't get to.

[Yup, that sounded pretty damn familiar.]

Musculature too, or just the bones?

Edited 2011-03-03 17:03 (UTC)

The rest of me heals by itself.

[Tone flat, ~~life is so unfair~~]

You've got to be kidding me.

How do you think I survived the bonding process?

How do you think I survived mine?

That's a good question.

We didn't have magically healing bodies where I came from. Our augmentations were a cocktail of chemicals and liquid ceramic ossification that took weeks to recover from, and months to grow accustomed to.