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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[onerthes]

[She watched, fascinated as she heard all of the goings on and the strange sorts of colors and lights forming while the plastic seemed to crack. It did take a second for her to grasp what the deer was attempting to sign, given that it was in the end a deer and deers were terrible at charades. Still, it came to her and eventually she smiled and rose.

Wrapping her arms around him from behind, she gave Logan a squeeze, endeavoring to see if that would help. Maybe, just maybe, she'd be seeing the scruff of his mutton chops again soon. Either way, she was surprisingly warm and her skin far softer than it had been below, the smell of something like lilacs in the air this close to him.]

cw: blood

[danzan]

[ Hadn't Vira-Lorr called herself a doll? The way she felt now (and he realised then, in that moment, that he could feel her, and what was that?) was too soft to be false, too warm. But her touch was kind and he'd seen her smile, and Logan's mouth cracked open as the same yellow and blue glow started to seep from his lips, too.

The first piece of him fell away from his torso, where Vira-Lorr's hand was. And then there was warmth, wet and thick, and if her nose was keen enough, she'd pick up blood.

Logan's shirt was soaked with it, fabric damp and hot, but there was no pain for him so much as there was a kind of relief. The next bits that peeled off were his shoulders, and then his hands, and as disgusting as it was to be stained with so much red, the bleeding only lasted a few seconds before the wounds "closed over"-- not with skin, however, but with muscle building itself between the cracks in his plastic.

The skin would come after the muscle was done. ]

Ugh, [ Logan groaned, sick with the scent anyway ] Jesus...

[onerthes]

[This was not the first time her outfit had been practically drenched in blood, and being this close to someone that was basically regenerating themselves while the fake plastic skin cracked away was going to drench anyone. Internally, Vira-Lorr could feel her magic returning gradually and was almost relieved along with more than a little disturbed by the situation. She could, at least, use magic to try and clean it out.

How else had she maintained her clothes after years of war? But the sight of this was like something out of the worst of someone's nightmares. It was obvious he was healing, rapidly, but it was disturbing to say the least. Keeping her composure, she waited for the skin to come back before coughing once to clear her throat.]

I will say... this has been a first for me, Logan. Are you ... alive, or undead?

[danzan]

[ It might not sting, but it's taxing to have his skin grow back so rapidly-- taxing and exhausting and, God, he hates the feel of it more than he hates anything else. By the end of it, Logan's panting, his clothes soaked but his body more or less back to its most perfect form. ]

...sorry. [ The way he speaks is slightly laboured, tired in the rough rasp of each syllable. Vira-Lorr reeks of his stink, even though she's cleaned the blood with her magic-- reeks of him in that way he reeks of victims even after he's scrubbed his hands medically clean.

Still, she'd asked a question. And Logan, awkwardly, pulls his arms back from around her, staring for a moment at his flesh palms and flesh fingers before looking back at her. ] I have a heartbeat, if that makes a difference.

[onerthes]

[She stepped back and laughed a little, though it was a bit of a hollow sounding one. It wasn't the most funny situation after all, but his apology made her feel amused and at the same time sorry for him.]

You needn't apologize. It isn't the first time I have been covered in blood. [A shrug.] And I think that, if your heart still beats, it is most likely the answer is alive. The undead tend to be a touch more cold inside.

[danzan]

Well, [ he snorted ] you just haven't seen me in winter.

[ Just because it wasn't appropriate to joke around didn't mean Logan wasn't going to be a fucking moron about it anyway. ]

...you good, too? [ When she'd hugged him earlier she'd felt softer, but Logan had to make sure. ] No more of this doll shit?

[ The dog Vira-Lorr had been petting barked in reply. Logan spared it a look, then turned back in Vira-Lorr's direction. ] Least this one says we don't smell like plastic any more.

[onerthes]

[She poked her own body, ignoring the blood for the moment and making a mental note to have her clothes washed. Her cloak had seen worse treatment in its time. After a moment, she nodded and smiled over at him.]

No more of the doll nonsense, thankfully. I am glad that you are ... well more or less intact at least. ...Can you speak to this little fellow?