bakerstreet | Only one bed

Hell, I don't care. [ Logan is used to people wearing masks, but he doesn't really see a need to explain that. It'd require going into why and trying to make someone understand superheroes isn't really appealing right now. ] Is your eyesight too strong or something?

[ He likes knowing peoples' weaknesses and strengths. He has no qualms about asking when he can't necessarily tell. He starts heading his way further into the house, figuring if they're going to talk for an extended period, they may as well sit down. ]

C'mon. The couch isn't that bad.

...Something like that, yes. And no.

[With someone who flashed weapons at him, though, he's not about to give that secret away so readily.

[He nods once, though, draping his coat over the back of the couch once he reaches it (something very quietly rattles within one of the pockets,) posture prim and proper when he sits down. His tail delicately curls around his hip, giving a flick or two to situate itself. Unlike while standing, both feet press equally on the floor.

[Both of his ears tilt forward, lifting up slightly in Logan's direction, and he idly clasps his hands together on his lap, his head definitely turning to face him straight on at all times.]

I hope you'll excuse that I'm a bit reluctant to tell you further details at this time, Sir Wolverine, though I do appreciate your hospitality.

[Despite being spooked by the claws, everything about Alivian is calm again, loose. After a few seconds, though, he very slightly tilts his head.]

I will do my utmost to get out of your hair at the first opportunity.

[Because if he doesn't, he may run out of time. The thought makes his pulse briefly jump in discomfort, but his facial expression remains stoic.]

Sir Wolverine? [ Amusement tugs at his mouth, causing his lips to form a smirk. ] Thank but no thanks. You can call me Logan.

[ Alivian's face may not betray anything, but he's paying attention enough that he can hear his heart beat faster. Tilting his head a little, he studies him but doesn't press. ]

Of course you don't want to tell me anything, I'm a stranger. But you're going to be stuck here awhile.

Maybe until you're dead.

[ He makes no secret that he's testing the waters with this particular phrase, eyeing him carefully. ]

...

[There's another jump at that, though Alivian's face still doesn't twitch.]

That is what I am hoping to prevent. I fell through here on accident. My homeland sometimes has rare events where the barrier between worlds splits open. I need to find another one to step through as soon as possible. The problem is, they're not visible to the naked eye, and my kind have had so few incidents with it that we don't know how to perceive them yet. The only proof we have is from humans slipping through to our end, and the only documented instances are generally every hundred years or so.

[Although perhaps him dying here, forgotten, would be to his kinds' blessing.]

There's also no guarantee that any barrier I find will let me back to my world. It could go to any number of them, theoretically speaking, assuming that "every hundred years or so" is only the noted interval.

...The chance of me dying here is definitely... high.

[Little by little, he breathes evenly to slow his pulse. It still jumps and skitters before he can calm it again, but he's mostly retained some sense of equilibrium.]

To deny such a likelihood would be entirely foolish.

[His chin tips slightly downward as an indication of wanting to avert his gaze; his lips purse slightly for a fraction of a second as he holds his tongue on more information. All the same, he makes sure that Logan's face is still mostly in his view.]

All people die eventually. Despite that inevitability, I have no intention of waiting for death to claim me without a fight.

[There's definitely something else he could say, but is making sure he doesn't.]

I can appreciate not wanting to die, at least not here.

[ He shrugs, considering his next words. It's odd to explain this, as where he's from, everyone knows this about him. ]

I've been alive over 200 years, I don't really care about dying at this point. But doing it here? To help with that.

[ He's selfish, he wants people to know when he goes out. If he did it here, nobody would ever find out. At least, nobody that matters. The idea of Laura or Wade just wondering until their own end days - or lack thereof, considering - was torture enough to send his own pulse off. ]

[That bit of knowledge makes Alivian's head snap up, jaw very, very slightly dropping. He even tilts his head a little before he can stop it.]

...I see. Well. I'm twenty-four, and... I have a natural life expectancy of about seventy-five to eighty years.

[He opens his mouth, closes it. Clicks his tongue slightly against the roof of his mouth. Of course, he's heard that little bit of resonance, however minor, in Logan. His hearing isn't as keen, but even he can hear the thundering sound.]

...I have been on the fence about dying or not for the past decade. If it does happen, though, I want it on my terms. As much as possible.

[His tail gives a small flick, and his jaw tenses slightly. His voice has adopted a faint growl to it - more than its natural rumbling, in any case.]

I haven't held on as long as I have to just... have that choice torn from me, too.

That's how I feel. [ Logan is a bit amused by Alivian's reaction - it's been awhile since anyone was surprised by his mutation. He lets his own voice drop a little as he says this, possibly to poke a little fun at how the other man's had. Because he's interested in his story, but he also thinks it's odd how he's been around such a short time, yet talks like he's just as old.

A consequence of living as long as he has is that you tend to see everyone else as young. So he's curious what could have happened to make him sound like this. He's determined not to press, but the fact he wants to is apparent in his eyes. ]

Your tail is starting to move.

[ Okay, he can't help but point this out. He needs to stop being so fascinated by the thing. ]

[Even Alivian can tell that there's something he wants to know, but he's no mind-reader. Even if he was, he likely wouldn't answer unless asked properly. Most people don't ask him about anything more than what's work-related. Anything else is broad knowledge.

[The comment about his tail prompts the wolf to lightly press his hand against where said tail is wiggling.]

Yes. That happens sometimes.

[Obviously.]

The topic of death is a universally intimate concept. It stands to reason that anyone would react to it in some manner.

Most people look at my face or shoulder when I'm talking, rather than my tail.

[He can't help it this time, but he does quirk his lips up in a brief, small, teasing smile.]

Hey. [ Logan gets defensive when he's called out and this is going to be no exception. Especially because he gets the drift of the teasing remark. ] I don't get to have any outward animal features, can you blame me for being curious?

[ That's a bit of a fib. Underneath his suit, he's hairier than any human. Luxurious, Wade tended to call his body hair whenever he went around the apartment shirtless, which was often. But that was about the extent of it. ]

It's normal to you, but it's new to me.

[Interesting, such defensiveness to this little curiosity of his own. It seems there's a similarity in their languages after all!]

No, I don't blame you for your curiosity.

[Beneath the mask, his expression lightens, glad to be away from more dour topics. Absently, he adjusts his sleeves, rolling them up a bit to just below the elbow. He... may or may not be showing off the fact that his forearms are covered with a dusting of silver fur there, too. His smile even lingers, showing his four-piece set of broader fangs, closer to a wolf's fangs than human.]

I simply could not pass up the opportunity to jest. I could offer you a closer look, if it would satiate that curiosity. Although... the look of my ears is pretty obvious, at least.

[His ears briefly wiggle, as if for emphasis. He thinks a moment]

....For the tail, I suppose I could also scribble up a anatomical diagram in my notebook for you. I'm not sure what you could learn about it by just observing without touching.

[ The more Logan sees, the more interested he gets. Those teeth are rather interesting and he can tell the fur is soft. He perks up a bit at the offer to see more, his previous negative spike in mood all but forgotten. ]

I can look without touching. [ He sounds so sure of himself, even while he accidentally lies. He believes himself but it's not true - he won't be able to help but touch if actually given a closer look. ]

I don't have anything to give you a look at in return, though. Excessive body hair? [ His nose wrinkles as he shrugs. ] I guess I could show off my healing factor.

[Oh, that perking up? Quite nice. Only Liora and his closest coworkers do that. He has to subtly tighten his grip on his tail to keep it from wiggling more.]

Fine by me, for you to look without touching. As for this... "healing factor"? I did smell blood on you, earlier, when those claws came out, but the scent is gone now, aside from coagulation. Is that what you mean? If that is the case, you needn't demonstrate. Please don't.

[But, he does get up, hands moving to the seat as he pushes himself upright again, once more favoring one leg over the other for a moment. His weight shifts slightly, testing, slowly trying to push more weight onto the weaker limb. It takes a moment to find a decent, better balance; his knee gives a very, very faint tremor before stopping again. Slowly, he settles his hands into his pockets. Without the jacket on, only a hint of the hollow of his throat is visible at the lowest point, due to the strictly buttoned-up nature of his shirt.

[His center of gravity is also slightly different from a human's, given the counterbalancing nature of his tail. Even as it remains limp behind him (his scent, also, happens to be particularly well-concentrated near its base.)]

Feel free to look where you please. I don't mind ducking my head a bit if you need me to.

[Given that he's slightly taller than Logan...]

[ Logan doesn't stand up as well. He keeps himself scooched behind this man, leaning in close enough to examine the tail. His breath tickles the fur, he's that close. ]

I want to see where it connects. [ He was told to look where he pleased, wasn't he? So without thinking about it, he starts tugging at the fabric around the tail. What was that about not touching? ]

[Alivian has no time to react to the sensation of breath shifting the guard hairs on his tail, but he does have time to react to the sensation of his pants tugging against the base of his tail.

[He lets out an indignant noise that's definitely more wolf than human - his hands immediately slapping near his ass as if to guard it, and his tail making an abrupt jerk upwards (and, very likely, slapping Logan in the face if he doesn't move when he tries to turn around to face him again.)]

Stop fondling my ass!! Excuse me?!?!

[ Oops. Logan hadn't meant to go quite that far. He has the decency to look apologetic, even after getting slapped in the face with a tail. ]

You're excused.

[ Yeah, uh, he laughs nervously. He's not one to apologize. Getting up, he heads for the kitchen again, where he keeps his small stash of cigars. ]

You smoke?

[ He turns and gestures with his cigar before lighting it up. ]

No. Light up if you want, but don't get offended if I cough.

[Absently, Alivian fusses with his clothes a bit. Wow, first he's all over his ass, and now he's acting like he didn't do shit. What is he, a cat?

[For now, he reaches back to fumble with the ties holding that reinforced area in place. Once that's down, his tail comes free. His underwear is much the same - though closer to a thong than anything else, with the way it primarily is held in place by ties around the base of his tail. He also tugs his shirt up and off, because that's just easier to do than to just ruck up the back of it.]

You still wanted to see? Here.

[For now, he turns his back to Logan, one hand going to his pants to make sure that they don't completely fall off now that the other anchor keeping them on is undone. His back is about as broad as his chest, with a thick dusting of silver fur down the near-full line of his spine. The tail comes from the every end of it, its root decorated by the cords holding his underwear in place.

[A few old, irregular, not-well mended scars mark his shoulders and back, and from behind, it's even more clear that he definitely does not have human ears in any capacity.]

Just ask next time before trying to get at it. You probably wouldn't take kindly to that sort of sudden handling in turn from me, now would you?

[Fortunately, he understands the nature of Logan's touch wasn't to be lascivious, and so he refrains from making the tail=ass joke again.]

[ Logan scoffs at the comment about coughing, not hesitating to continue his journey to smoke. Putting the cigar in his mouth, he takes a deep drag then raises his eyebrows as the man starts to strip. ]

I've been handled in all sorts of ways, I'm used to it.

[ The sad thing is that's absolutely true. But he gets that it isn't true for everyone else, so he doesn't approach and try to touch again, he just puffs and studies from his little bit of distance. ]

Nasty scars.

Sharp rocks, glass, and other stuff. Couldn't reach much of it, and I never bothered to get help.

[Alivian shrugs a little, shifting his weight a bit. His chest flutters uncomfortably as smoke tickles it, but he does his best to try not to cough. Slowly, he moves his tail, doing his best to make the required muscles flex and shift with it. A small demonstration that, yes, it's a very real tail.]

...You shouldn't have to be used to being handled in ways you don't want to be. I'm not about to perpetuate that.

[Never mind that such words could always apply to him, too. But it's not about him.

[He attempts to at least stifle a cough that comes out, his eyes watering slightly from the pungent scent. Ugh.]

I don't know how you can stand that stuff...

...it bugs you that much?

[ Logan shrugs, eying him. He could just smoke it and not care, but Alivian is being decent to him. So he ends up turning to the ash tray and stumping it out. ]

It burns real nice. I like the feeling of the lung damage healing.

[ He's never admitted that sort of thing to anyone, not even Jean. But after spending 200-something odd years with an extensive healing factor, it'd make sense that it'd get a little addictive. ]

Why are you getting glass and crap in your back?

[ He's been good about not asking so far, but his curiousity is starting to get the better of him. ]

[Alivian's tail immediately stops and drops at the question, and then he's putting his clothes back on. His voice drops to a quieter note, hesitant, reserved.]

...Happens when you're a kid who hospitalized a bunch of people just by looking at them, and a bunch of your peers and teachers hated - and hate - you for it. I could have killed them just because I was too stunned to close my eyes. I don't blame them. I'd be scared of me, too, in that situation.

To be fair, a fraction of the population of my people have the same ability I do. I'm not different that way. But there's no reason that anyone should be able to use it without meaning to. It's activated with intent, normally.

The mask keeps it at bay. The only power I have control over is my voice.

[Finishing getting dressed, he lets out a rough sigh, and heads for the door.]

Gonna get some air.

...sounds kinda like my fr - teammate. He could kill a man with just his eyes. Killed a lot of people by accident as a kid.

Tends to work that way for people like us.

[ Logan watches him head for the door. He's considering whether or not to follow or give him space. In the end, he decides to do the latter, and takes a seat on a slightly broken barstool that creaks from his weight. ]

I'll be in here. When you're ready, we should go hunting for provisions.

[ Now that there's two of them. ]

[He's grateful for the space, even as he nods to acknowledge that they should hunt after. It gets him away from the cigar smoke, too, and he mulls over that he's opened up to this. Really, he wasn't expecting such... understanding.

[Though maybe receiving that from a guy who bleeds when his claws come out isn't so far-fetched....

[For a moment, he regards his surroundings. If he can make a bow and arrow or some snares, he'll be set enough for future-them. Hunting today, though...

[His voice will probably have to do a lot of the work.

[Eventually, he comes back indoors, his tail giving a listless little wiggle.]

I can make some snares and a bow and arrows later, but that doesn't necessarily make for good hunting today. And if we don't go while it's still light out, I'll be blind with the mask on.

[For a moment, he stares at his coat before tugging it back on, and absently pats the pockets to make sure their contents are still there. They are, and something still rattles when patted.]

Unlike my ancestors, I'm not as fast as them, and if I can't catch them, my teeth are useless. But...

[He gestures with a finger.]

I can still use my voice. It's... unethical, in my opinion, but if we can't find easy prey the normal way, I'm willing to convince something to come out by Commanding it.

I don't know if you noticed, but we're not speaking the same languages. You are, however, hearing what you need to hear to understand my words, and so, too, do I hear yours. The last human to arrive in our world was quoted saying that it was the "tongue of Babel." The ability to understand all languages, and speak all languages, without learning them.

Well, verbal ones, anyhow.

So long as something has a conscious mind, a language, and intact hearing, it can understand me.

It won't satisfy the act of hunting, but it will feed us. The only issue is... if it affects you.

[His mouth tips into a bit of a frown as he lowers his hand.]

If it does, I will have to work to make sure I can reverse it, because it affects the mind. So. I propose two options. Option one: we test it out briefly, here, before we head out, or, option two: we do without my voice's power when we hunt today.

I figured it was something like that. [ Okay, he'd actually assumed it was more a psychic illusion, but that was just how his world went. He's not going to admit to getting it half wrong. As for the suggestion the power of his voice could affect him, his eyebrows raise. ]

Hell, even if we try not to use it, it might end up necessary eventually. Don't know what could be out there. So let's test it out.

[ Logan gets up from the barstool, which continues to creak in annoyance at him. He heads over, his scent changing to one that suggests slight trepidation, and perhaps a bit of excitement. ]

Try it.

[ He isn't making this an option. ]

...That's a fair assessment. Very well.

[Seeing as Logan's stood up the first idea that pops into his head is probably the safest. His own scent shifts - a touch of fear, and anticipation.]

Sit back down.

[The air slightly ripples near him with the words, carrying pressure with them. And, potentially, the promise of pleasure should Logan obey (or this could be a bad idea, go tits-up, and immediately be painful to hear.) In truth, Alivian just hopes that it does nothing for him.]

[ Logan finds himself sitting before he can even think about it, looking shocked at both the power of the command and the fact he can't help but follow it. At his most feral heart, he's just a bad dog who wants to find someone to be good for. So this helps power his response and lack of resistance.

And the fact it is so literally pleasurable to follow it? On more than just an emotional level? Well, that has him surprised too. He grips at the splintered counter, forcing the wood to give away just a little more. ]

What the fuck was that?

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