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Post by Panthera on Oct 8, 2010 12:26:52 GMT -4
Creed?
Sam tried to go to a memory box in her brain and find that name.
Nope. Still nothing.
Ok, so Logan agreed that they needed answers. And now he was asking this ‘stranger’ questions. They were very basic questions when getting acquainted with someone. But, there was something about the tone to those questions. Why did this ‘stranger’ call him Jimmy? It tore at the feline that she couldn’t remember much of anything. Something inside was tugging hard. It was an instinct to help those that were lost. Passion arose but not of the sexual nature, although the idea was pleasant.
Why?
But was Logan really lost? He admitted, to a degree, that something was going on effecting memories of the student and faculty members of the institute. He wanted to know where Hank was. Now, this guy. Sam continued to sit there sipping on the cold water. It was refreshing to get more hydrated fluids in with all the smoke and stench floating around.
Sam inhabits a small flaw in her personality traits. Some refer to the issue as ADD. Sapphire eyes glanced over her shoulder to see a very nice view of jeans looking back. A small silent sigh escaped as the hotel idea seemed to slither away more and more.
Focus, Samantha, focus.
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Post by Creed on Oct 10, 2010 17:13:08 GMT -4
It wasn't lost on Creed that the pipsqueak moved protectively between him and the girl. Shrimp was rarely as clever as he seemed to think. It was part of what made him so infuriating. He was a lot luckier than he was smart. But it wasn't like Creed couldn't get to her in a heartbeat. It would've been a little insulting if it wasn't so funny the chump's memory was all messed up.
Again.
"Here 'n there", Creed answered cryptically. Then he added, "...same as you."
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Post by Logan on Oct 12, 2010 14:09:31 GMT -4
It was quickly becoming apparent that this was some kind of game to Creed. Logan caught the nonchalant glance over his shoulder at Sam and interpreted the underlying unspoken threat it carried with it and moved his shoulder slightly to block the view a little more and direct his attention solely on Creed.
The answer he got was absolutely infuriating. Logan clenched his jaw muscles as he puffed on the cigar, streams of smoke wafting over on air currents to temporarily shroud Creed’s face from view.
It was definitely an improvement.
“Listen, I don’t got time for games,” he said. It was technically a lie. It seemed all he really did have was time. “You got somethin’ ta say, just say it.”
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Post by Panthera on Oct 12, 2010 14:57:11 GMT -4
Things were heating up.
Sam continued to focus (or attempt to), on the situation at hand. The distraction was temporary as Logan spoke to this Creed. If this monstrosity of whatever he proclaimed to be was trying to intimidate the Wolverine, it was working to its fullest. She placed her drink on the counter. Looking back over her shoulder, the view was now of just Logan. He moved and made it a point that the feline's view was now obstructed.
The nerve.
She hadn’t realized just how much he was trying to protect her. Sam could only see that these two had something to settle. “Maybe he’s just incapable of fluent English” came in a mumble. She wasn’t trying to be audible to anyone but if this Creed heard it, it might be the straw that broke the camel’s back.
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Post by Creed on Oct 13, 2010 8:49:28 GMT -4
Creed sat in silence for several long moments. It wasn't as if the smoke was any worse than a thousand other smells in this toilet of a bar, but holding his breath wasn't difficult either.
Keeping a straight face was. And holding in his amusement was damn near impossible. He snorted and began to laugh a low, rumbling laugh.
"Yer brain's a lot more scrambled'n I thought, Jimmy", Creed said. He slid off the stool and rose to his full height - towering over the shrimp and his precious little shrimpette.
"You ain't got time fer games", he said, "an' here I am done with my drink." To emphasize it, he held the empty longneck bottle over the bar and dropped it several inches. It clattered noisily against the wood and other empties before finally coming to rest.
Creed flashed a jagged Cheshire Cat smile.
"See y'around", he said, catching Logan's eyes first, then the girl's. Then he turned and made his way back toward the entrance.
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Post by Logan on Oct 13, 2010 14:16:09 GMT -4
When the brute stood up, Logan tensed, but otherwise held his ground. With the cigar clenched in his teeth, he squinted his eyes a little at being called Jimmy again. That name, or more the way he was saying it…something wasn’t right. But he didn’t flinch when the bottle was dropped, though the loud thud sounded like gunfire to his sensitive ears.
He stared at the door for a moment without saying a word.
See ya around. It didn’t come off like an idle threat. Logan had a feeling he hadn’t seen the last of that guy.
With mixed emotions held in check by a stoic look of neutrality, Logan turned back to the half empty bottle of whiskey and scratched at his stubble. Then he glanced over at Sam, looking her over to see how she was holding up.
She looked scared as ever.
And drunk.
Knowing the answer, he asked the question anyway. “You doin’ okay?”
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Post by Panthera on Oct 13, 2010 16:00:33 GMT -4
Sam watched as the Neanderthal got up. If her eyes could have bugged completely out of her skull, they would have. If a heart could race at the speed of light, the feline was almost positive she her surpassed that. Tension grew in her body leaving the only defense mechanism available, transformation. Fear overwhelmed and Sam could tell that her mind was screaming to turn into the beast and run.
But Logan again calmed her almost instantly as he turned looking over. The water just stood still on the counter, ice nearly melted. The buzz was still brewing but a scare like that can sober anyone up in a heartbeat. His voice, although tense, sent an unusual calmness throughout her veins. Blinking and staying silent, Samantha nodded.
She was ok, but was Logan really ok? Her body found its way over to him. The alcohol was now taking over as she found her hand slinking around his waist a bit. Maybe he needed a little calming down as well. Heightened senses felt as though she could hear his heart beating more rapidly than normal. Logan was a hard man to read, but the shape shifter was certain there was more.
“I’m ok now. But, are you ok?”
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Post by Logan on Oct 14, 2010 10:32:16 GMT -4
Normally Logan would have loved a little distraction, but even with an attractive woman a mere inches away, and even with the promising scent of her filling his senses, he found that he was too distracted for a little distraction. He glanced down at her arm around his waist, a few mere inches separating them and then back up at her. The cigar had died, and so it seemed had his own fire. For the time.
“Never better,” he lied.
Whoever this Creed was, Logan was going to have to figure it all out later.
“S’a good thing I’m drivin’,” he commented as he took a seat. Skipping formalities, he tilted the uncorked bottle of whiskey back and slurped the rest down straight from the bottle before looking at her and pointing the neck at her accusingly. “Cuz yer actin’ a little tipsy.”
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Post by Panthera on Oct 14, 2010 11:26:55 GMT -4
Tipsy?
Sam stood there looking over to Logan as he sat with the condemnation of her actions. She hadn’t been wavering. There was no slur in words. Her vision wasn’t blurry. Yet, she was being accused of a drunken stupor? He didn’t need to say anything more. His demeanor showed the feline that he meant drunk, not tipsy. A small amount of anger and resentment filled up as the shape shifter took the seat next to him once again. Sure, he was the driver, but Sam had legs. Maybe she should just walk away.
“I was only trying to understand this whole mess” she replied taking another sip of water. “First I thought you brought me here to kill me. Then, when this Creed steps into the picture, I felt like you were possibly protecting me.” Eyes remained on the glass. The mixed signals were starting to become a bit aggravating. “Maybe I’ve had a little more than I should have to drink, but I’m still coherent. And, I’ll admit, a little shaken up by that guy. His scent alone could make a rock grow legs and walk away.”
Sapphire eyes diverted over to the mess left behind. The bartender was already clearing the glasses and Sam began to feel like she was the next mess to be cleaned up. “Somehow, there’s a connection here and I’m just trying to figure out what that connection is”, she finished. Maybe he could soak up the fact that she was lost and just trying to find out who to care for and who to trust.
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Post by Logan on Oct 15, 2010 8:36:02 GMT -4
Logan eyed her for a few moments after she had finished speaking. “Now why in tha hell would I want to kill you?” He asked. Maybe she knew something about his past. Without knowing the specifics he knew there was plenty of blood on his hands. Maybe she was as tied to his past as Creed was.
“Good luck with that,” he said in regard to finding a connection. “S’something I’ve been tryin’ ta do for as long as I can remember.”
And then he suddenly did seem to age, in his eyes.
He didn’t try to act any particular kind of way, though he could tell that a distinct change had come over Sam in the last few minutes. “Don’t worry ‘bout Creed, darlin’,” he said to her softly. “I’m sure we’ve seen the last of that guy.”
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Post by Panthera on Oct 15, 2010 10:57:10 GMT -4
She took in a deep breath and let it out attempting to calm down. Maybe Sam had been shaken up more than she would admit to. Continuing her gaze at the glass, his soft voice didn’t take everything away. “Why am I not sure about that” came out concerning the return of the wildebeest Creed.
Logan’s memory seemed far more lost than Sam’s. At least she had flashbacks and dreams to try and interpret the past. But what did he have? There was some form of closure and maybe if she helped him, then he would turn around and help her regain some sanity. The sapphire in her eyes glowed in the lighting from the bar while the shape shifter glanced to her arm. A scar in the shape of an “L” lie just above her outer bicep. Sam knew that Logan was a part of it, but what happened remained a blur. Her body turned to face him.
Ivory fingers traced across the scar as she spoke. “I remember you had something to do with this. Do you remember anything about it? How I got this? All I know is you helped me.” Maybe this could be a start to their connection. However, The ADD set back in giving another small distraction of his figure before her. Something still tugged at her heart. They had to have had something closer, but what?
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Post by Logan on Oct 19, 2010 8:48:54 GMT -4
Abandoning the stub carcass of the cigar with a final hiss into the backwash of a longneck, Logan turned his full attention to Sam once again. He held her gaze for a moment before letting his eyes drop to the scar on the outside of her arm. Without asking permission, he gently took her arm into his hands and studied the scar with an unreadable expression.
He wanted to say that he remembered it. It only seemed right if he was the one that had done it that he would remember it.
His thumb passed over the scar lightly, like sunlight filtering through thick jungle foliage. He closed his eyes, seeing brightly colored birds and hearing their calls echo back and forth throughout the dense canopy overhead.
Opening them back up, he shook his head sadly.
“I got nothin’,” he said softly.
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Post by Panthera on Oct 19, 2010 16:08:15 GMT -4
The touch of his fingers across the scar sent an array of tingles down the feline’s spine. Her heart rate increased. Sam couldn’t understand why emotions of all kinds were searing through her soul. Did he actually place this scar here? Samantha was convinced that he aided in helping with the cut. Another flash caused the artist to close her eyes with a gasp.
“Bar. Brawl? Gunshot.” Sam opened her sapphire eyes slowly. A partial memory appeared. “Ok, that was too weird” she exclaimed softly. Logan must have been there or those kinds of feelings would not have erupted. But when did this happen? The scar had been there a while.
Sam didn’t want to sound awkward but maybe touching was a starting point to memories coming forth. It worked twice already. “This may sound odd, but it seems when you touch me, I seem to remember some things. I don’t know why. Could this be someone’s sadistic joke to the students and faculty?” The question was in general out loud, but maybe Logan had an answer.
Probably not.
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Post by Gambit on Oct 20, 2010 16:53:34 GMT -4
New York, the city that never sleeps; that nickname was never more apparent than right in the heart of Manhattan. Broadway, the Hard Rock, the sea of yellow taxi cabs; it was a nightlife like no other. For Remy LeBeau, though, it was outside of Manhattan where the real party was. Sure, he liked playing tourist as much as the next guy, but when he was just looking for a drink and maybe a ‘friendly’ wager or two, the seedy bards were always the best bet.
Standing back to let Callie enter ahead of him like a gentleman, despite their surroundings, he walked in after, long brown duster brushing his legs.
“What y’ t’ink, p’tite? Longin’ fo’ de good ol’ Bayou yet?” the Cajun man drawled with a grin, the fingertips of one hand barely resting on her lower back in a protective manner. Glancing around the bar with dark shaded eyes, he paused when they fell on a particular couple. There was something about the short man, something almost familiar. In another life they could have been friends, or maybe enemies, Remy wasn’t sure. It was a strange feeling he couldn’t quite put his finger on so he quickly shrugged it off, turning his attention back to Callie. “What say we start wit’ drinks an’ see where de night takes us?”
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Post by Callie on Oct 21, 2010 5:53:29 GMT -4
"Always." Callie joked distractedly, already scoping out the bar. Callie loved the nightlife of pretty much everywhere, whatever the place there was a party to be found and she knew how to find it, she could always keep herself occupied no matter how utterly dead a place was.
"I like de sound o'dat." She agreed, already heading towards the bar, her own gaze drawn to the couple already seated there. Something about them, most definitely, something she couldn't quite place her finger on... the man... he reminded her of someone, or did she know him? She couldn't tell which it was. It was like the encounter with Bobby all over again and it was weirding her out - so much so she was forgetting herself and staring.
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