1965-02-17 - Three Beers to Westchester
Summary: Hope brings Logan to the Xavier Institute
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
logan hope 


There are security protocols at the Institute, of course. But then, Hope has a few extra tricks up her sleeve. She took Logan to one of the Institute safe houses, and after an appropriate vetting for any ill intentions, got the all clear to bring him to the campus. "So, the big thing here is, you don't bring trouble here," she explains, hands in her pocket as she walks down the lane toward the main building. "This is a safe place for mutants."


Logan is lucky enough to have his coat, his hat, and his wallet. Other than that, he doesn't have a whole lot of possessions to his name. His hands dig deep into the pockets of his jeans as he looks over to the young redhead. "No trouble. Got it." After a few puffs on his cigar he looks back to her. "Why are you helping me, kid?" Doesn't seem a lot of people do.


Hope shrugs at the question, though there's a wry twist of her lips with it. "It's sort of what I do," she answers, kicking a rock down the path. "I help people. Everyone, really, but mutants in particular. This is a rough time for mutants. Although I guess it's always been. Probably always will, to a certain degree. But I do what I can to make it better. Besides, I think you can do some good here, too," she nods toward the building.


"Don't even know me," Logan says as he lifts his head a bit so she can see his eyes over a rather thick set of mutton chops. "What sort of things could a guy like me do at this place?"


"Help keep them safe," Hope suggests, giving him a sidelong look. "Look, I may not know you, but I know what a fighter looks like. And this place is a school. It's supposed to be somewhere they can go so they don't have to fight. But people like you and me? We know that for other people not to have to fight, someone has to be out there ready to stop whatever's coming. Besides," she shrugs again, looking back at the path. "Seems like you could use something to fight for."


Logan reaches up to his mouth to pull the cigar out, leaving a little popping sound as he does and the pair reach the steps of the Institute. "Settle for a roof over my head and a beer.


"Well, good news, we have both of those things here!" Hope grins as she pulls open the door, gesturing him inside. "Although you might have to ask someone else where the beer's kept. I don't really go for it much myself. Also beds, bathrooms, some training areas. And a lot of kids."


"Lady, you really think I'm the kind of guy to hang out with a bunch of kids?" For all the pomp and circumstance, Logan removes his hat and spends and inordinate amount of time wiping the snow and moisture from his boots. "Rich guy own all this?"


"Oh, I dunno. You might surprise yourself." Hope doesn't look terribly comfortable there herself, truth be told. Not quite a kid, not quite a teacher. And definitely not…domesticated. "My understanding is that the professor comes from money, yeah," she nods. "Whatever that means. Seems like things get by here, though. I mean, some of that might be powers, too. Never know what kind of corners you can cut when you've got students and teachers who do amazing things, right?"


"Not sure. Haven't been a teacher and haven't been a student for a long time," Logan says as he looks around the hallway. "How long you been here?" he asks as he chews on the now unlit cigar.


"A few months, I guess. I don't stay here, though," Hope shakes her head, looking around as she walks. "I'm not really much for book learning, so I'm not very good as a teacher or a student. And there's some people who might be after me, too, and I really don't want to bring them down on this place. So I stay in the city," she points a thumb over her shoulder. "I check in here pretty regularly, though."


Logan's features fall just a bit as he realizes this woman likely won't be here very long. It should be more familiar. "Who's after you?" Maybe he can help.


"It's…complicated." Hope leads the way to the kitchen, since food is always important. "I'm not from around here, you could say. And neither are the people who are after me. But I've lived my hole life that way," she explains, looking back over at him. "So it's not a big deal for me."


"It's never that big a deal for anyone. Until you end up dead, that is. Then it has a way of bein' a much bigger one," Logan says as he enters the kitchen behind her, giving a bit of a sniff at all of the odors of the room. "Free range in here?" he asks, apparently looking for confirmation. He hasn't eaten in quite a while. They were in a hurry, after all before everything went to shit."


"Pretty much," Hope nods. "Unless someone has their name on it. If it's got a name on it, you're supposed to leave it alone." Why does it sound like she learned that the hard way? "People get upset." She opens a cabinet, showing where the glasses are while getting one for herself and filling it at the sink. "You sound like something's come for you before."


"Wish I could remember the specifics, darlin'" Logan says as he opens the refrigerator. To his luck someone cooked a turkey and there were lots of leftovers. He rips off a leg and uses his other hand to grab a bottle of beer that's been put way towards the back, and uses his foot to close the door. "People get upset a lot."


"Right?" Hope sighs sympathetically. "Sometimes it just seems like life is a never-evnding parade of running. Particularly from folks who think they know who or what I'm going to be and have decided they can't risk it and let me live to run my own life."


Logan takes a while to respond because he's busy chewing on the leg of that turkey. He swallows with difficulty; whoever cooked this bird left it in too long. Out comes a claw that he uses to cut the cap off his beer. "Someday you'll have to put your toe in the ground and turn around. When that day comes, hope you'll know where to find me."


"Kind of what I'm working on at the moment," Hope smiles faintly, pulling a Coke out of the fridge for herself and taking a seat across from him. Watching him with the cat action, she slowly extends one claw herself, cautiously popping off the lid of the drink before giving her hand a shake and putting that claw away.


"Claw powers too?" Logan says, tilting his head before drinking again, taking down nearly half of the bottle. "What are the chances?"


Hope shakes her head, taking a drink. "I copy powers," she clarifies. "That's my power. Whatever the people around me can do, Ica ado it too. It's useful sometimes, but it can also be a little bit awkward. Don't always know what I'm getting into. And here…" She trails off, leaning back in her chair and propping her feet up on the chair across from her. "It's a little overwhelming here sometimes. Same with M-Town."


"Sounds like a shitty power," Logan says as he finishes the beer and then the turkey leg. He looks around idly for a place to throw it. "Get too close to a guy whose power is to fart and you'll lose all your friends."


Hope chuckles, shrugging and crossing one arm lazily over her chest. "It's okay. Comes in handy sometimes. But I didn't really have it for most of my life, so most of what I know comes from my dad and how he dealt with things rather than just trying to copy someone else. I mean, what about you? The claws, the healing. Kind of useful, but if you lived a normal, peaceful life, how would you have ever known?"


"No clue," Logan says, not knowing whether he lived a normal, peaceful life, or anything else. He doesn't seem really ready to talk about it. "How bout you show me a bed so I can take a load off?" he asks, readjusting his hat.


"Yeah, sure," Hope nods, standing up and heading for the stairs. "Get some rest. Maybe when you get up there'll be more people around to introduce you to."


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