inbox; deerington

[danzan]

un: wolverine history t @ hs, lit prof @ college, volunteer @ S.T.R.A.N.G.E. living at 2008 howard hill, dunwich hollow more info + plots here ( TXT AUTO-REPLY ) This Fluid is in DO NOT DISTURB mode. If you would like your message to appear as a notification, send "URGENT". ( VOICEMAIL MSG ) "It's Logan. You know what to do."

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Comments

[therapissed]

The doctor in me is alarmed at that fact, but the former runaway gets it. [Wry amusement as he shakes his head, taking Logan's bowl to fill it with what's left in the pot before adding the two milks again and setting it in front of the man. Then he's getting the soup to heat as well, poking around in the pantry in case he had some bread left as well.]

Next time you're not eating, just send me a text. I've usually got food. [He doesn't like going hungry when he can help it.]

[danzan]

It's not like I don't have food, I just forget. [ And in the past that had been okay; Logan's healing factor tended to fix him whenever he got too close to starvation.

It doesn't work like that now, but he's still getting used to the notion of consequence for physical negligence. ]

And then when I remember I don't have time to eat.

[ Another big spoonful of food makes its way in, but this time it isn't so messy. Logan makes a small effort not to eat like a complete heathen. ]

October's been a hell of a month.

[therapissed]

Putting it mildly, aren't you?

[He's got his back turned so eat as much like a heathen as you please, Logan. He's just going to make sure the soup doesn't burn, because that would be sad and a waste.]

[danzan]

[ Picking up a pineapple, he puts it on top of his bowl and eats it. ]

Don't gotta be dramatic.

[therapissed]

I'm sorry, sometimes I forget I'm not a triple-amputee with a missing heart anymore.

[He doesn't sound angry at least and just huffs a quiet laugh, making sure the soup is completely heated through before filling a bowl to pass over to Logan with a fresh spoon.]

I'll be happy when the blood's off the streets.

[danzan]

You and me both.

[ The mention of Bruce's state in that dream world means Logan only slurps half as loud as he otherwise would have in a casual situation. He stirs the soup a bit, then takes another spoonful without eating it. ]

...sorry, though. About what happened.

[therapissed]

It's okay. You had to do it, and it's not like it was... real, right?

[He shrugs casually enough, watching Logan poke at his food.]

... Want some salt or pepper with that? [C'mon, man. Eat up. Don't be blue.]

[danzan]

Salt or pepper'd take away from the pumpkin taste. [ And to Logan, who could care less about taste for most other things, it's that natural flavour he's looking for. ]

It's good, though. The soup.

[ He eats another mouthful of it, sniffing lightly. ]

...and if it makes you feel better, I had to cut my own chest open and stick my hand in it a couple years ago, too. So I get it.

[therapissed]

That... Why would that make me feel better? [Logan, why?] And why did you do that?

[danzan]

I dunno, petty vindication? [ Logan using the word "vindication" aside, he's had... special friends over the years, needless to say. With special senses of humour.

The question is easier to address, at least. ] There was a parasite inside me and I had to get it out.

[therapissed]

... Do I even want to know how you got a parasite in you that you decided to remove yourself instead of going to a hospital?

[danzan]

Nope.

Doctor part of you'd just get mad.

[therapissed]

Would it help if I said I don't have an MD?

[danzan]

Not really, 'cause then you'd just think I'm a dumbass.

[therapissed]

Don't take it personally. I know a lot of dumbasses. You're not as bad as a lot of them, and at least you're better suited to surviving extra dumb moments. Like performing surgery on yourself without sterilised equipment to get a parasite out with what I'm guessing were your bare hands.

[... Okay he might be judging a little. But he's also a tiny bit admiring of that survivor's instinct there.]

[danzan]

God, you're a bitch. [ Logan grins a bit as he says it, though, shaking his head. He ends up picking the bowl of pumpkin soup up to drink directly from it, and when he puts it down he licks the orange off his top lip. ]

...but. Yeah. That was how it went.

[ He picks up a pineapple, eating it with a shrug. ]

To be fair, I was in a private hospital room kinda thing. But sterilisation wasn't on my mind.

[therapissed]

Mm, it's funny how it often isn't on anyone's mind in the moment. Still, at least you survived to tell the tale.

[danzan]

I heal. I'd say it's cheating.

[therapissed]

I don't care if you cheated. I prefer you alive. Corpses are... I don't want to say useless, but...

[Yeah. He prefers the company of the living.]

[danzan]

[ Logan finishes the sentence easily: ] Worse smellin'.

...but just by a little bit.

[ You know, since he reeks of blood and all these days. No matter how hard he scrubs in the shower, the Deerington horrors make him smell like shit anyway. ]

[therapissed]

By a lot, thanks. I've dealt with enough of them for one lifetime.

[Shaking his head, glancing at Logan's bowl.]

... Want some more soup? Tea?

[danzan]

Hn? [ His tummy might make another sound, but the question makes him feel a little like he's imposed. ] Nah. I'm okay.

But I got a kid at home... if you ain't gonna keep all this I can take some back to her. [ Wouldn't want to be wasteful. ]

[therapissed]

... Did you adopt already? [Just quietly staring.

... And refilling that bowl anyway because he heard that rumble.] Uh, yeah, I'll pack some for you to take.

[danzan]

It's not-- I didn't adopt a kid.

[ Damn it. That's, what, four people now? Five? Logan brings his bowl up to sip, looking mildly affronted. ]

She just lives with me. We were assigned when I first got here.

[therapissed]

Oh. [That makes sense (in a very Deerington kind of way).] Who?