WELCOME TO NEXUS.

[XxWolverine]

Logan could have been a cadaver given the way he was lying on the metallic table. Wrists and ankles bound to the surface by metallic clamps. Eyes closed, chest barely rising, and flesh still deathly pale. His hair was still partly wet from the fluid they placed him in, and the only part keeping him modest was a white sheet covering his lower half. Metallic quills still stuck out from his chest, two on his forehead and three on each forearm. An individual wearing a white robe examined the two on his head, put up the clipboard, and shuffled away.

----------

He came to, if only briefly, to feel countless hands stripping his clothing away from his flesh. The cool air prickled his skin, left over from the icy water they sprayed to clean off the blood. There were too many voices to keep track of, a cacophony of excitement and power. His body went cold--deathly so--as they flushed out the poison that hampered his abilities. His back arced, strong hands secured his arms and legs, and then were was nothing.

He came to the second time, body filled with immeasurable pain. He thrashed with violence, his voice roaring into a mask that covered his nose and mouth. Fluid was all around him, green and soothing, but the agony he was suffering could not be appeased. His muscles twisted and contorted, his eyes squeezing shut only to open, unseeing. He never saw the tubes running into his body. He never felt his claws emerging from his hands. There was metal glinting; he recognizing a flash. He never knew it came from his own claws.

He came to again, body heavy and mind groggy. Surgical masks, gloved hands, and impartial gasps were all he could sense. The pain had subsided. Only a dull ache spread through his body. They were poking him, prodding him, ripping chunks of flesh from his body to see the bone underneath. He felt none of it, only the ache, and the sudden ease of darkness.

----------

From some where far away a heart monitor beeped. Eyes twitched violently behind closed eyelids before they slowed. His mind was coming to, pushing through a pool of murky and lethargic smoke. Muscles twitched in his forearm; skin itched around his knuckles. He relieved himself through a catheter. His mind wasn't his own yet, his body a shell.

An individual wearing a white robe examined the two quills on his head, put up the clipboard, and shuffled away again. Eyes closed, chest barely rising, and flesh still deathly pale. Logan could have been a cadaver given the way he was lying on the metallic table. But he was slowly teeming with life.

[X-23]

X-23 was congratulated upon her return to the Facility with Wolverine in captivity. It simply was not a feat anyone even thought possible any longer. Though, she was also immediately shown to her cell for debriefing and for tests to be taken. It was a minimal process, since everyone was thrilled with the original Weapon X being back in the Facility.

Which gave her handler, Kimura, a chance for a little one on one with X-23. After the debriefing.

- - -

Hours later, Kimura pushed her way into the med bay, her hand grasping onto X-23's ankle in her hand. The girl was unconscious and being dragged behind her. Kimura roughly hauled the girl up and dumped her onto one of the tables and grinned. "Poor little copy, I wonder if anyone will even bother looking at you now that the real thing is back, huh? Pathetic. The only reason you weren't killed is because you used that nodule they gave you. Well, I can play nasty too, you know." Laughing, the woman walked over to where Logan was being kept. "Now this? This is the real deal, not some freakish little shadow. Shame he's off limits..." Kimura traced a finger along Logan's chest before laughing and walking back out.

X-23 laid on the medical table with two of the nodule spikes stabbed into her, one in the lower back and one in her neck. Her body twitching now and then. Sarah Kinney came in and immediately set to the task of righting X-23 again. Keeping her mouth shut and her movements efficient.

"You will be fully healed in about an hour, X-23." Sarah Kinney paused where she stood bedside and looked down at the girl now in a medical gown and grabbed a washcloth to clean up the blood now dried onto her skin. X-23 watched her work, trying to remain stoic as fire laced through her body, though it wasn't nearly as intense as it had been an hour ago.

"Mother..." There was almost a moment where it seemed X-23 would say something else but then suddenly went cold, "I can clean myself." Taking the rag from Sarah quickly and pushing herself to sit up to clean what Sarah did not.

Dr. Kinney paused before nodding her head once and quickly exiting the room. Leaving both Weapons in the med bay, even if neither of them were in any condition to fight. X-23 turned her head as she laid back down and looked to Wolverine. He'd gone through the bonding process again. Twice in one lifetime. Shutting her eyes until the memories of her own time in that horrible green tube faded. Once was certainly enough, and she didn't even go full skeletal like he did.

Turning her head again to look up at the ceiling before her eyes closed. Relaxing since it was all she could really do until her Healing Factor ate up the residue of the nodule. Slow breaths and perfect stillness.

The beeps of the monitors hooked up to Logan were as close to a lullaby as X-23 ever knew.

[XxWolverine]

There was sudden warmth on his chest, trailing down between his pecs and ending just at the lip of the white sheet. The sensation had made Logan aware of other sensations--the prickling touch of needles in his skin and the severe uncomfortability between his legs thanks to the catheter. His eyes were still closed, but the mounds underneath his eyelids stopped moving. His chest rose then fell. The heartbeat monitor stayed the same. There was something funny going on with his nose. It tingled inside--too much antiseptic in the place. But his mind registered a scent that he tagged for future use. It still lingered on his flesh where he had been touched.

"Mother..." It was the first time he heard a voice, or at least registered one. "I can clean myself."

Movement. Scent of soap. Then the clicking of shoes walked away, leaving Wolverine and the girl together. How thoughtful.

He stayed in his lethargic state, waiting and planning. He was mentally keeping his heart rate in control as his mind went reeling with information. Antiseptic, mother, soap, the girl, the weight on his body, the beeping, the cool metal underneath him, the uncomfortable sensation between his legs, he was somewhere being looked over. Tested upon? He didn't know. Considering what he last remembered, falling to his knees with blood spilling from his throat, he wouldn't doubt it.

He finally opened his eyes several hours after "mother" left. He stared up at the flourescent lightning, ignoring the glare. His pupils were unfocused, everything was blurry. He tried to move his hands, but couldn't. Legs were the same. Finally squinting, he moved his head back and forth until his neck finally popped. Eyes focusing, he finally saw the heart rate monitor attached to a weightless clamp on his finger. Tubes were going into his arm, hydrating his body with the unpredictable time he'd be unconscious. How long had he been out of it? Grimacing again, he finally closed his eyes, nose pointing to the lights again.

"They spruced up the place. Musta known I'd be payin' 'em a visit." There was strangely no fear in his voice, taking his reality with the hard truth of where he was at. He inhaled, filling his lungs with a deep breath for the first time, then letting the air out through his nose. "Ya mind yankin' this tube outta me? I would myself but," he stretched his fingers, "shit happened." He was referring to the catheter, its thin tube running down the inside of his leg and down beneath the table. Taking another deep breath, he finally looked over to the girl, the same face as last time.

"I was Weapon X. You?"

This post has been edited by XxWolverine on Jul 12 2012, 09:32 PM

[X-23]

X-23 kept in the almost meditive state. Allowing her body to run itself for the time being. Since she didn't seem capable of taking naps, she managed to survive with the calm black inside her head. It was only there she could be free of Kimura and the Facility. The fact that she would be re-entering the training facilities after the data from their fight was analyzed.

She had bested Wolverine, but not on her own and now they were going to fine tune her. X-23 almost dreaded it. Knowing how hard and brutally she would be pushed.

Lost in her own thoughts, the hours slipped by. They were left without any disturbance, since it seemed that the faculty here didn't care much for it's patients unless they were running the courses.

Her eyes opened when she heard the beeping of the monitor accelerate. Her head turned as she looked over to him and saw his eyes open and staring at the ceilings before closing them again. He looked...resigned.

"Ya mind yankin' this tube outta me? I would myself but," he stretched his fingers, "shit happened."

She slowly pushed herself to sit up and made sure the gown was tied accordingly. She slipped off the medical table that was still mostly covered in her blood and made her way to his table. Glancing at the tube taped to a very hairy leg she raised an eyebrow. She pressed a few buttons and deflated the small bubble at the end of the catheter to hold it in place before slowly pulling it free. Some things you did not treat like a band-aid.

She pulled the tape off his leg as carefully as she could before dropping it all on the floor. She stood there for a moment, looking at him before he asked her what her name was, after introducing himself as the ex Weapon X. She looked at his face, would meet his eyes if they happened to be open.

"X-23."

She probably should not be talking to him, but she didn't see the harm in it. Besides, she would hear if anyone was approaching and the cameras, well...she couldn't do anything about those. They didn't capture audio in any event. She seemed to be warring with herself about what she wanted to say, bows knitted in a rather familiar scowl.

"This is all your fault."

Again with that icy voice as she glared at him. "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you." Hands drawn up into fists before she turned and got back onto her own medical table and sat there. Hair, now caked with dried blood, falling forward into her eyes.

[XxWolverine]

Logan waited, barely looking underneath low eyelids at the girl. She pressed a button then carefully began to pull, peeling the tape from his leg holding the catheter--carefully being the key word. Was she caring about Logan's well being? Given half the crap he'd seen and felt at Weapon X, anyone else would pull the tube without giving a crap about the pain that would have proceeded. But this girl was being careful. Logan wrote off the suspicious behavior as nothing more than X-23 being wary of him in general. Don't piss off the bear, right? Especially since he wasn't aware just yet what he had gone through. Again.

Peculiar name too, X-23. Logan could assume what X stood for, though he had a hard time believe there were now twenty-three mutant weapons the facility had.

She paused, at least momentarily, perhaps struggling with herself or words. He noticed her brows furrow before she spoke. "This is all your fault." Her voice could have froze blood to normal people. "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you." She walked away, visibly upset, back to her own table.

"That makes two of us." He just assumed if he hadn't been captured, she'd still be out there. Dead.

Logan lifted his wrists again, annoyed at his captivity, wanting to stretch the aching muscles in his back. They didn't secure his neck as he lifted his head to look down at his body. He finally noticed his body was... no longer different. No more bulging muscles, no more overly excessive hair, and he could no longer see the density of his sideburns at the corner of his eyes. His own brows knitted, trying to put the pieces together. It wasn't until he formed fists and willed his claws to slide out did he realize what the hell happened to him. The flashbacks came back, crushing him against the table. The hands, the pain, the masks--he broke it all away with a sharp growl as he thumped his head against the table in a metallic clank.

He lay there, visibly fuming, unable to put his anger into words. Fear had nestled some where deep within--had they messed with his thoughts again? Implanted memories? Brainwashed him? He remembered Canada, the Hudsons, the X-Men and people--Jean, Storm, Hank, Rogers, Kurt--and the memories: fighting Krakoa, the Hulk, even glimpses of Silver Fox that Nicholas Fury had confirmed were true. Nothing seemed shattered or broken in his mind, but that didn't mean he hadn't realized it yet. He still had control of his own body, but that alone caused him to worry more. He wasn't feral like he was last time. The pain had been too much, forced his humanity way, and caused the feral part of his behavior to gain dominance for a long while. But he didn't even feel the feral now. His claws slipped back into his forearm.

He let the worry, pain, and fear bury deep into his mind until he locked it away in a closed vault. He worried enough; it was time to focus on other things. He swallowed, mouth parched, but finally turned toward X-23. "If I find out that woman who was with me is here, or dead, this damn place is comin' down with you and yer mother in it." The sharp tang of iron was beginning to fill the air. Skin and muscle was tearing as he lubricated the orifice his right wrist was clamped into with his own blood. His eyes squinted again in her direction, sniffing just once to make sure her scent was tagged. X-23 called that woman mother. So what did that mean? X-23 was a product of a Weapon X tryst? How convenient for the facility.

Logan twisted his hand more, slowly pulling it through the constraint. He grimaced over the biting pain, slowly getting more annoyed at the beeping of the heart monitor.

"So, how 'bout that weather? Lovely day outside, ain't it? Bet it's full of sunshine and rainbows."

[X-23]

"That makes two of us."

How could he compare him being at fault for her very existence to her bringing him in? It only deepened her scowl and she pulled her legs up and underneath her. He was as calloused and uncaring as the scientists that walked around this place.

She watched as he brought out his claws and then growled suddenly and thunked his head. He must have still been out when they began the bonding process. Seeing as his scent developed the tang of confusion and then anger. She looked away, honestly not sure even he deserved to be put through that. That was her fault.

"If I find out that woman who was with me is here, or dead, this damn place is comin' down with you and yer mother in it."

His threat brought her head forward and she shook it some, "The woman was not targeted, she was left behind. The soldiers were ordered to leave once you were secured. She seemed capable enough to take care of herself, I am certain she is fine." Her voice oddly flat, as if her detached ways were more ingrained rather than forced. Though, he could smell the low boil of fury in her at the threat itself.

"I wouldn't wish this place on the undeserving." X-23 spoke softly. There was that peak into some of the deep seated hatred she hid rather marvelously. It was all in her scent, not her eyes or her voice or even her demeanor, the only way he knew was through her scent. Something she couldn't control.

"So, how 'bout that weather? Lovely day outside, ain't it? Bet it's full of sunshine and rainbows."

"I would not know, they do not let me out of my cell unless my services have been purchased. Or here for when my handler decides I need reminding what a pathetic copy of the great 'Wolverine' I am." The words were out before she could really consider them. It was not often she spoke without thinking. Though, really...what could he do to her?

X-23 shut up as one of the scientists walked in, clip board in hand and lab coat open. He walked over to X-23 and said only a single word, "Disrobe." X-23 complied, pulling the gown off of her and keeping her eyes down. Her vitals were checked and the still slightly bubbled skin around her neck and lower back were checked. The scientist spoke into a recorder, ignoring both of them. "Healing Factor continues to battle the effects even after a flush. Perhaps four more hours and all effects will be negated. Subject X-23 reported to have demonstrated combative resistance to it's handler and was punished with two nodules. Recommend high intensity training and if further signs of combative nature show, to have it subjected to a full wipe." The man then just looked to the gown, which X-23 took as a sign to cover up and sit back on the table as the man walked out.

Typing the gown on a little tighter as she remained seated on the table. Listening for any signs of anyone before looking up at Wolverine with a raw, rather brutal hatred burning in those green eyes of hers. There were even signs of yellow bled into the iris, proof she was dangerously close to losing it. "When I drown this place in red...I will make sure you are buried securely down here. To live the rest of your life strapped to that table."

X-23 blamed him, she blamed him for everything.

[MissB]

(CF: Start spreading the news)


Steps moved around at the adjacent rooms to the Med Bay at the Facility. Blue eyes were calm, with a patience that was rarely seen elsewhere. As the scientists came in and out of the room where he knew Wolverine and X-23 were, his stance did not change. He watched, with the intensity of a panther waiting for the right time to pounce its prey. The plan had worked so far, although, for him, it had been somewhat a challenge.

Infiltrating the facility had been relatively easy. And it seemed that just like X-23, the people in her Facility also knew of him. Knew who he was, what he had done and whose 'favorite' he was. The moment he allowed himself to be seen by them was the moment they took as an opportunity to score the big goal. Catching Wolverine, his clone and his son at the same time? Certainly that would have earned them positive points. But unlike Wolverine, who was now strapped onto a medical bed after the procedure, or the clone, who had absolutely no rights of her own and had to follow every single order issued to her, he was his own man.

He had planned it all carefully. The initial plan was to follow their trail, which had been the somewhat easy part. The harder part was purposely putting himself in a situation he couldn't get out of alive and taking the advantage of mindless soldier goons that didn't catch on what he thought was an amateurish move, even for himself. He was not known for being clumsy, and had they been any smarter, they'd probably have caught up on that. But Daken calculated that they wouldn't be, so he forced himself into a clumsiness that he would normally not have in order to reach his goal. Thirty highly trained soldiers and he could have dealt with them easily on his own, but he made one little clumsy mistake, and one of the nodules was ready to be inserted in his body.

Oops. It had been the word coming out of his mouth back then, when he felt the man's voice in his ear, explaining just what was being pressed against his skin. But even then, even in that moment, there was nothing but a smirk curving his lips. Foolish guard thought he had caught him. Probably thought he was going to be commended by a job well done. Little did he know that he was just a worhtless piece of junk that got caught in the big spider's web.

Daken knew about these nodules and what they did. Facing the choices of fighting back and get hit by one of the nodules that had been essential in Wolverine's defeat and be dragged by force - which would have put him right in the same position as his father, or surrending peacefully, the choice was quite easy. He simply surrended and walked away with them. But once in... he reminded them all who was the man behind his training: Romulus. That one word seem to have quite the weight within the Facilities still. It was amusing and somewhat infuriating at the same time how the shadow of one man seemed to hold so much power. But Romulus had told him the same thing once, as they overlooked a city from a hill. There was power in shadows. If they can't see you, they can't hurt you.

Yet... you will always be alone.

And there he was, infiltrated in the same facility where his father and his clone were now. Using Romulus' name had been quite the leverage. It made Daken chuckle at the thought. Once more that man's manipulation of his mind and life had come to his advantage. He'd show Romulus every single thing he taught him had been well engraved in his mind. Pity that for him, he'd find all that being used against him sooner or later. It was just a matter of time. And Daken was a very patient man. Romulus had his name already tagged on Daken's claws. It was just a matter of time and patience until he had a plan that was good enough to take the man down. And perhaps that plan might just end up including the man that was now in the medical area together with his clone: Wolverine.

He could overhear their conversation. Bless his father's genes for once, he thought. The clone was angry, blaming Wolverine as she should. It was his fault, in the end. Whatever he was, for whatever reason Weapon X seemed so bent on having him, he was responsible for her existence. Daken felt a hint of sympathy over the clone's words. Just barely there, and easily and quickly gone. Wolverine was at fault for his own life too. If he hadn't existed, Daken wouldn't be there. If he hadn't put himself in the position of being hunted, to the point that every single person around him would feel the consequences of his actions, whether they liked it or not, Daken could have had a normal life.

But those things were not a possibility. Thanks to Wolverine, Romulus had planned every single step on Daken's life, from the moment he was inside his mother's womb. And then with cruelty and coldness, he shaped a world around the young boy growing up. A world that wasn't necessarily unreal. No, that was the main issue with Romulus' teachings: the world he painted was real. It was there. And he made it just so damn believable with each day that passed.

Never care about them, boy. Never care about anyone but yourself. Because no one else will care about you. That's the price we pay to survive.

It took him many, many years to get out of the man's control and set up a life of his own. But the scars would always be there. They would remain, because they were the type of scars that a healing factor could not get rid of.

He simply leaned against the wall as he waited. People in that facility seemed to respect him somehow. Or was it fear? He treasured feeling that smell on their scents, the stinging smell of fear. It made him feel like a god. Untouchable and unreachable, because they knew better than to go against him. Fear was a beautiful thing to deal with when it came to humans, they were so easily dominated by that sentiment that they allowed it to control them. His legend, the way he killed almost his entire facility by himself had certainly reached their ears. It made Wolverine's son smile in a satisfaction that was akin to the pleasure felt when caught in the passion of a beautiful woman. Or a beautiful man.

Tilting his head to the side just a little, he crossed his arms over his muscular chest and waited. He was patient. His mind was already going through the many possibilities that were presented in front of him. It was a matter of time until Wolverine and his clone left the med bay. A matter of time before he could finally face the man responsible for his entire life, until he had that moment, the moment he had been waiting for years now. A matter of time until he broke Wolverine's clone's plans of burying him under the facility.

Because if Wolverine had to die... he was the only one who truly had the rights of doing so. And it wasn't his time to die. He needed him, eventually. He couldn't get to Romulus on his own. He couldn't kill Romulus alone. But together? Together they could be quite unstoppable. The sheer intensity of the conflicting emotions inside Wolverine's son's mind didn't quite reach his blue eyes. But it was there, inside of him, burning like a strong fire.

Daken loved that feeling. And loathed it at the same time.


((Thread entered with the permission of plot runner))

This post has been edited by MissB on Jul 20 2012, 02:06 AM

[XxWolverine]

At least he was relieved Psylocke wasn't the target, but he didn't like knowing X-23 had a "certainty" Psylocke was fine. She obviously didn't get it yet like he might have secretly hoped. Being a weapon for the facility didn't give anyone the right to be "certain." Rule number three in Weapon X: Don't assume anything until you've seen it with your own eyes. Think someone's dead? Check the body. Think someone got away? Look for signs to suggest as such. Until the evidence showed otherwise, there was only assumptions, and assumptions made weapons weak. It was probably the only thing he had come to terms with when regarding Weapon X. He was a weapon. One that was hell bent on going against them.

"I would not know, they do not let me out of my cell unless my services have been purchased. Or here for when my handler decides I need reminding what a pathetic copy of the great 'Wolverine' I am."

Logan looked at the girl through hooded eyes, allowing her words to seep into his flesh. There was a bombardment of information in those two sentences, but as the scientest came in, Logan stared and listened. He continued to yank his hand against the constraint on his right side hidden from view. More blood lubricated the manacle; Logan bit down on his tongue to keep from grunting in pain.

He turned his head and looked away. How could a grown man ask a girl to "disrobe?" Weapon or not, the girl was still a living, breathing person. While Logan had come to terms with being a weapon, he also realized he was still alive--and having a scientist demand the girl to disrobe as if she was a plaything had sent a ripple of anger through his spine. Grimacing with his face hidden away from X-23 and the scientist, only Logan and X-23 could hear the sickening sound of flesh tear and muscle peel away like teeth digging into fried chicken.

Logan's hand was free, a gruesome, mangled version of what it should have been. More bone than muscle gleamed through the blood, but he managed to slide it through the constraint with nothing more than the slight grating sound of metal rubbing against metal.

Two words rung deep in Logan's ears as the man spoke: full wipe. Were they going to do a mind wipe on her like they had done to him? While he couldn't say for "certain," he had a pretty nice guess he was right. He remained silent, teeth no longer gnashing against his tongue. Before the scientist left: "I've got a wound here that ain't healin'." He finally let out a real hiss of pain and a curse to show the scientist he was serious.

He heard the pause of footsteps from the man before he left. Wolverine never looked back at X-23 when she spoke, but he heard the hardness in her words.

"When I drown this place in red...I will make sure you are buried securely down here. To live the rest of your life strapped to that table."

"Shut yer trap. I'm workin'." He was focusing on his mangled hand, trying to form a fist. It wasn't working too well. How long would he have to wait? He was counting the seconds in his head, watching muscles regrow as flesh knitted back together. C'mon... c'mon... He heard the doors swish back open, saw the same scientest from before walk in with his clipboard, and grimaced as he finally managed to get his hand into a slight resemblance of a fist. It'd be good enough.

He quickly moved his hand underneath the sheet, silently slipping the sheet just slightly to obscure the view of his constraint.

The scientist walked over to Logan's far side, saw the pool of blood now dripping on the table, scribbled on his clipboard, then lifted Logan's sheet.

Snikt.

The clipboard clattered to the ground. Logan snarled, using the strength of his one arm to pull the scientist closer to his face. Blood was running down the man's stomach where Logan's claws penetrated. "She's a friggin' girl." Those four words unleashed all the anger that had building up, from seeing X-23's claws for the first time to being in the same room when she was told to disrobe. He sheathed his claws, the man slumped to the ground, and Logan shot out his claws yet again to cut away at the manacle on his other arm.

He ignored the mixture of his own blood and the scientist's on his hand. With both his arms free, he managed to sit up stretching his back. He dug his fingers into the muscles in his lower back, leaving behind bloody fingerprints. "Lookie there. Got myself free. So much for yer plans." The reinforcements would come, he was sure. He had no interest in getting his legs free, having no goals of escaping just yet. "I don't know what you mean by bein' a copy, but I do know yer a girl. No one breathin' deserves goin' through what I have, especially not someone yer age."

Annoyed he was going to have to suffer the consequences of the scientist's demise eventually, it'd be worth it for that one, small, piece of victory.

"Yer a human, X-23, not a tool. I already taught that lesson to Weapon X years ago. Looks like I'll have to do it again."

Logan never made the connection they were related in some way. While she had the same raven black hair and familiar scowl he saw every morning in the mirror, it wasn't enough. She had green eyes, paler skin, a feminine figure, and foot claws. Hell, anyone could have claws, even psycho Asians that had them coming out of her fingers. He merely thought she was a copy in such a way she had gone through the same training and bonding process he had. And that was unforgivable.

[X-23]

The smell of blood and the sound of flesh ripping had the girl looking over to Wolverine curiously. Though she kept her teeth together for the time being. When Logan said he had a wound that wasn't healing, her brows knit together in confusion. His healing factor should be working just fine, also, she could catch the light scent of a lie on him. Why would he lie about healing?

He told her to shut up and that he was working and she just tilted her head to one side, quickly masking the look of curiosity and confusion when the scientist entered the room again. Writing on his clip board and then it happened. He'd gotten his hand free, that explained the sound and the blood.

"She's a friggin' girl."

X-23 just sat there watching him. He..killed the scientist because he treated her like she was an it rather than a she? Why would he do that? Was he just trying to confuse her? Get her close so the kill could be clean? No, she would be able to sniff out the intent on him.

"I don't know what you mean by bein' a copy, but I do know yer a girl. No one breathin' deserves goin' through what I have, especially not someone yer age.Yer a human, X-23, not a tool. I already taught that lesson to Weapon X years ago. Looks like I'll have to do it again."

He was telling the truth. That was what hit home the most. He didn't know. She looked away from him and frowned some. "I'm not human. You really don't know what they did..." What did that make all her anger at him worth? She was breathing a little heavy. All the lies they told her. All lies. Everything she ever knew was a lie. Except how to kill. She knew that well.

She suddenly stood and walked towards him, aligning her wrists and the loud snikt of her claws coming free resonated before she sliced through the restraints on his ankles.

"I am not human because I am a clone. Of you. They cloned you. They failed 22 times until they decided to make a girl...hence...X-23. They told me that you gave them your DNA so that you could walk free. A life for a life. I'm just...just a shadow."

Her voice was quiet and strained. It was building up inside of her, that horrible sensation of...red. Horrible and wild and free. She looked up at him then, "I will get you out of here, since I am the one that put you here." With that, she turned and grabbed her change of clothed Sarah had left behind. Her suit. She pulled herself into it quickly.

She took a breath before turning her head to one side, watching him for a moment before walking towards the door. Plugging in the code that would open it and stepping out into the hallway.

She let it roll over her like a wave crashing down over her body.

A group of four scientists were making their way towards her. They all stopped when they saw X-23 simply standing there in field dress. One of the women gasping when the girl looked in their direction. Her eyes a pure, horrible yellow. "Oh shit..."

One of the male scientists uttered before X-23 moved in. Claws free as she seemed to dance for a second. Three bodies hit the floor in messy, blooded lumps. The last one was running, but X-23 was on him. Planting a foot against the wall before springing off and nearly bisecting the man with a swipe of her foot claw.

They would pay for her pain. Every single one would die. She was literally walking in the footsteps of her originator now.

[XxWolverine]

Logan heard something mutter from the girls lips, but he didn't pay attention enough to make sense of what she said. He was too busy glancing around the room, disappointed with the luck of utensils that could someday wield deadly results. Various tubes could be useful in affixiation, but outside of picking up the heart rate monitor and slamming it on someone's head, there was nothing. That was both good and bad if his last stand started here in the future. Less weapons here meant less weapons the soldiers could use, but it also meant less shielding for the feral.

He finally looked at her as she stood at the foot of his bed and unsheathed his claws, forcing his restraints to snap. He stared at her momentarily with a frown, but he pulled his feet out and sat on the edge of the metallic bed. He sat, staring at her as she spoke, careful not show an expression. A clone. Of him. The hair, the scowl, they really did look familiar, but pessimism had been ingrained so deep into Logan he wasn't willing to believe her yet. He had just met her, fought her for a few moments, lay here briefly talking to her, and then she divulged... all of that? For what purpose? What wasn't he noticing?

"I will get you out of here, since I am the one that put you here."

Wolverine found himself in a slight daze of confusion. He contemplated if that was the girl's tactic. She saw him kill a scientist, and now, what, attempted to throw him off guard to strike him dead? No, that was too much. Apparently he was still too important. He had instinctively looked away in thought as she changed her clothes, but turned back toward her as she looked at him and the doors open. He heard footsteps and screams before Logan muttered shit and jumped up.

The blanket around his waist had remained in place, adhering to his body in part to the giant blood stain. He didn't run, merely walked, carefully at that, as he looked around the corner and saw X-23 chasing a scientist. He finally picked up his pace, bare feet slipping in warm blood as he found his traction and began to run. He extended an arm, attempted to grab the girl by the back of her neck and slam her into the wall, chest first. His thick arm pressed against her nape, attempting to pin the girl long enough to say a few choice words.

"You do this and the only person yer freein' is yerself. They're not gonna let anyone walk outta here like that. Not this time." He heard footsteps pounding against the hallway. He leaned in closer, rushing his words before the soldiers were on them. "Control yerself, X-23. I'll get us both outta here." Then he was yanked away, a series of electrical shocks pulsing through his body, forcing his back to arc and body convulse. He was being dragged away, still twitching, but he came to just enough to mutter: "Everything you... you do to her, I'll... I... I'll do back... at you. Ten...fold." He was glaring at the soldiers now surrounding X-23, tazers and batons at the ready with who knew what else.

His vision was blurred, but he was still aware, not knowing where he was being dragged off to. He was watching and studying. Weak points in armor, orders being said, weapons on belts, it was all going into Logan's memory banks for the sheer reason of future purposes. If he could dismantle them now mentally; they wouldn't stand a chance physically. Not with two feral mutants craving soldier extinction.

[MissB]

Daken closed his eyes from the room he stood as he heard the sounds of the clone's claws and her battle sounds. A smirk curved his lips just slightly as she was again being irrational. Did she really believe the escape could be that easy? Especially when two other people had done the same in the past? It was obvious that the Facility would be ready for that. It was obvious that they'd do their best not to make the same mistakes they did with Wolverine, then Daken himself. Twice in a row they made the same mistakes, the third time would certainly not be that easy.

When the sounds of battle stilled... well, at least for a moment, he tilted his head to the side slightly. The Weapon X soldiers were doing their job, it seemed. But that Wolverine allowed himself to get dragged meant that he was perhaps not at the top of his form yet. This wasn't the man he heard so much about. Definitely lacking that unstoppable characteristic that he grew up hearing that he had. So something was off. And it was something he definitely felt he needed to check on.

It was the good opening. It was the perfect opening. It was the one he'd take.

As the soldiers dragged Wolverine, a shape could be seen coming from the adjacent room. He stayed to the side though, waiting until it was safe to follow. And so he did. Unlike Wolverine, and unlike the clone, he was free to walk around the Facility. It was his ace up his sleeve: he had the mobility the two of them didn't. And if anyone tried to stop him... well, he'd just have to make sure they knew how much of a mistake that was.

Cloaking his own scent with pheromones, making sure he'd disappear from both Wolverine and X-23's noses where his scent was concerned, he followed the short feral being dragged by the Weapon X folks. His steps were calm yet confident. But in his blue eyes, an anticipation mixed with anxiousness could be seen.

He had waited for that moment for way, way too long. Pity he wasn't sure whether the clone would be there to see it.


OOC: If this isn't acceptable for any plot reasons, I will edit and rewrite. I just thought it was too good an opening not to use it.

This post has been edited by MissB on Jul 28 2012, 01:32 AM

[XxWolverine]

His death threat seemed to ring on deaf ears as he was dragged further into the facility. They passed the room he recuperated from after being bonded for the second time. His vision was fading in and out, a continuous barrage of electrical currents running through his conductor of a body.

A single soldier was plucking the metallic probes away from Logan's flesh. Spittle was beginning to flow from his lips, unable to form a coherent thought to swallow. He only saw a group of soldiers swarm X-23 before she fell out of sight. He weakly fought back, but not even he had the strength to escape the grasp of his handlers.

He noticed, vaguely, how most of the soldiers wore rubber gloves. Latex filled his nose, mingling with the stench of blood and burning flesh. Parts of his body did more than just twitch now--black holes tore into his flesh where the electricity was probed into his body over and over. And some where down the hall, the blanket that concealed his lower torso was ripped from its blood-induced suction to his body. He groaned, trying to keep his eyes from rolling backwards. He'd stay conscious, try to remember everything he witnessed, and use it to fuel his anger once his moment to escape was ready.

They dragged him into a darker area of the facility, the hallway bombarded by various shadows. The knocking of booted feet and his own heels sliding against the metallic floor sent his sense of hearing ringing.

The sliding of a door awoke his near unconsciousness. He was dragged into a room that smelled more like burnt ozone as a fierce current of electricity shot through him. His back arced. A silent scream leaped from his lips. Several soldiers grabbed various parts of his body and heaved him onto a wooden table. From the pain of the shock came a new sensation.

Coldness. A sponge was being rubbed across his forehead, water colder than ice. The sound of buzzing nearby with the sensation of being "lighter" signaled his head was being shaved. He tried to fight again, but his muscles were too stiff to respond.

A blinding light was overhead now, making it seem as if a giant sun lingered over his body. As the sponge disappeared, several new bodies hovered over Logan, piercing his head with long, needle-like probes. He could hear them plink plink against his skull as they stuck in place. He heard strange words: temporal lobe and hippocampus. Feeling something being shoved in his mouth and legs and arms yet again restrained, more people connected wires to the strange probes as a series of machines began to hum. Too blinded to see straight and too stiff to move, Logan had no choice but lay still and wait for what came next.

There was a sudden ache of silence as all the people left. Logan was left alone, buried alive underneath blinding light. It was then that everything numbed into darkness as Logan instinctively bit down on his gag.

Electricity passed through the metallic probes, sending strict currents into parts of Wolverine's skull. A strong enough joltage was used to pass through the skull and target the temporal lobe and hippocampus of Logan's mind; machines being used to watch the currents in action. More voltage was sent to reach a limit to what they wanted Logan to forget. They wanted him to remember his training, his kills, and those he cared for. They wanted him to forget about X-23, and in the process, the entire attack altogether.

By the time the electricity stopped, Logan would forget everything that had occurred, up to the point he'd never remember returning to the mansion. Psychologists were ordered to do one thing once he came to. Convince him he came to Weapon X willingly to correct the torture his body had gone through.

[MissB]

The sounds were almost overwhelming to his ears. Standing to the side, hiding himself from the soldiers and from Wolverine's nose, he waited. There was one thing that he learned throughout his years, and the manipulation from the one whose name he used now to gain leverage within the facility: Patience was the way to get things done. In order to achieve one's goals, they should not rush. They should not act upon an impulse, because impulses tended to get people killed.

It was later that day, once Wolverine seemed to be stable, that he realized how long he had waited. The procedure seemed to be over. Daken, all of a sudden, thanked his timing - had he decided to appear to his father before the procedure, he'd not remember him. A smirk curved his lips at the thought. He'd forget the clone, or so he overheard from the conversations held by those in the facility, but he would not forget him.

As one of the psychologists walked towards the room, he waited. As they approached the room, he stepped forward, walking calmly towards the group of three that seemed ready to follow their orders. They glanced at him in surprise, as if not expecting the man to be there.

"The procedure seems finished now," one of them told him. "We were ordered to continue with the treatment."

"I see," Daken replied calmly. "Well, if this is really necessary..."

The men seemed almost satisfied that he seemed to comply so easily. But they also never saw the claws coming, razor-sharp and piercing their flesh. Daken twisted his claws within one of their chests, the gruesome sound of flesh being lacerated echoing in the halls as the body fell lifeless to the floor. Then, with a spin of his muscular body, he sliced the second one's throat in a move that was too fast, faster than they could ring the alarm.

The other one found an elbow to his ribcage, and then, as he fell, claws pierced his stomach. And as he removed them, he used their own white labcoats to clean them.

"I apologize, gentlemen. But you don't get the luxury of messing his mind up. That right belongs to me."

He didn't care about the corpses. If any in the Facility came to question, he'd convince them of anything. Anything he wanted them to believe.

And with firm, confident steps, he entered the room where the man known as Wolverine was still being held. There was a mix of emotions conflicting in his blue eyes. For too long he waited for this moment. For too long he had pondered how it would have happened. Seeing the man that they sought so much, the man that was responsible for the life he had, strapped to a bed, helpless, at the mercy of the Facility people... it was almost unconceivable.

Could the Wolverine be this weak?

He simply stepped closer, tilting his head to the side, staring at the still-unconscious man and his restraints. They seemed well-designed to keep the short feral man from moving or escaping. Well, it wasn't a problem. If he had to cut through Wolverine's flesh to free him, he would do just that.

But for now, he simply waited. He wanted his to be the first face his father would see upon waking up.

This post has been edited by MissB on Aug 10 2012, 07:40 PM

[XxWolverine]

He stayed in a state that was half sleeping and half awake, his mind a hole eager to absorb information. It was to be akin to sleep manipulations. The psychologists were to whisper sweet words in his ears, altering his thoughts like they were altering his dreams. He wouldn't know the difference when he woke up once the sessions ended. How many were there going to be? Enough, in the end, for Logan to completely believe everything they were going to tell him. But it seemed that wasn't meant to be as Daken acted. The psychologists were dead, and there was nothing Wolverine could do.

Logan was completely unaware of another person's entrance. His eyes flickered behind closed eyelids. He was dreaming in his mind, conscious of his body being unable to move, but not feeling the need to figure out why. He was swimming in darkness; it collapsed around him like a broken wall, but it felt so comforting to the feral. He didn't want to leave this sanctuary of darkness, not when he knew the outside world was so... disappointing. He could remember the deformation of his body, the bestial edge of every waking moment. He didn't have that now; he was in bliss and it was the closest thing he'd ever get to being at peace.

When the psychologists would speak, he'd start to wake moreso as memories filled the darkness. But as nothing was being said to fill in the gaps, he was left to doze. It would be unwarranted to wake him now; he'd remember only being bestial then awakening in a medical table. That'd make him agitated and a threat. The only way to wake him was to imprint memories in the darkness until the hole was filled, at minimum just enough where it'd be a rough sketch he could understand. Then his dark blue eyes would open to see the world around him.

[MissB]

Daken realized, after the seemingly interminable moments that he was waiting for any signs of Wolverine's recovery, that his induced trance was not going to be over anytime soon. It was a pity, he thought. He had come all the way here, manipulated so many people, killed those psychologists to get a change to be face-to-face with the man responsible for his life... only to find him in this state.

A hand reached for Wolverine's as he slept, looking at the knuckles where his claws were supposed to come from. He now had the adamantium back to his bones, just as he used to have before. Was he still as unstoppable as those in the Facility claimed he was? Looking at his sleeping form, Daken realized how easy it would have been to simply stop him. If a small, inexperienced girl such as the clone was able to bring him here, he could have done more. He looked so vulnerable, so... different from all the stories he had heard growing up. On how he was shaped to be just like this man - no, to be better than him.

Yet, part of him just wanted to drift away from all that. He didn't want to be like him, or better than him. That would have meant that Romulus won. That he got what he wanted, in the end. That all the manipulation he had done in Daken's mind had been successful. Daken was damaged, he knew it that much. There were parts of him that would have never healed completely. But he would never forgive Romulus for shaping him to be what he was now.

And he hated the man currently asleep for allowing that to happen.

Taking a few steps closer, he tilted his head to the side. The psychologists he killed had been about to enter the room. Perhaps to proceed with the mind-washing. He had witnessed the procedures before. He had to give this a try. A small smirk curved Daken's lips as he leaned to murmur in his father's ear.

"Look at you," he started. "The mighty Wolverine, strapped to a med-bed, under the effects of whatever mind-washing they've done with you. Yes, because they've done it again, dad... because you were weak enough to lose against them again."

A hand went to touch the restraints that kept Logan in place before he started pacing around the unconscious form of his father. "They've tried to destroy your life again. But don't worry, dad... aren't you lucky the son that you left for dead in his mother's belly is here to save you? Aren't you lucky that even though you turned your back on me and left me to die, I'm here being benevolent?" His voice was filled with hatred and anger. "Aren't you lucky? That when you turned your back on the corpse of your dead wife, you left me for Romulus to retrieve and shape me to be just like you? So I know everything I need to know about them. I know all about you. Your weaknesses, your strenghts. I know how to deal with you because they made me like that."

Three claws came out from his fists, two from the knuckles, one from his inner wrist, scratching over the metal that kept Wolverine attached to his bed. "It's all your fault, dad. Because you turned your back when you saw your dead wife, and you didn't stop to think that your son could have been born just like you. That you would have given him your powers that kept him alive. But Romulus did. He took me. He manipulated me. It's because of the two of you that I am who I am. Because of you and him, I killed my whole adoptive family. It's your fault. You will remember that waking up. And you will feel guilty about having destroyed your son's life."

He smiled just a little, stopping to glance at his father's face. "But you will also blame Romulus. Because it is his fault. And that's when we will do what needs to be done and slaughter him. Make him pay for your guilt. Make him pay for my pain. That's what we'll do, daddy."

After he was done, he simply walked towards a chair nearby. He'd wait patiently for Wolverine to wake up. See the guilt in his eyes and the anger that he should have, should the process have worked. And they'd slaughter them all in their escape. And hopefully enough, Wolverine would have enough guilt to pain him for a while.

This post has been edited by MissB on Aug 24 2012, 06:07 PM