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carcajous) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
diademlogs2025-06-09 11:56 am
carcajous) wrote in diademlogs2025-06-09 11:56 am
Entry tags:
[ CLOSED ] june.
Who: Logan + Kimiko, Scott, Jesse
Where: Panorama
When: June
What: Catch-all for the month, including a little misunderstanding at the barbershop (oops)
Warnings: A bit of violence, probably!
Where: Panorama
When: June
What: Catch-all for the month, including a little misunderstanding at the barbershop (oops)
Warnings: A bit of violence, probably!
no subject
So when she says she wants to talk, he's surprised and not.
A rumbling engine outside punctuates his arrival. The bell above the door chimes. Place smells like garlic and oil, reminds him of the dozens of noodle houses all over New York. Last time he was here, it was with Wade. Funny. She's the second person to cover his bill. He cocks an eyebrow, head tilted at Sophie, but he's not gonna ask too many questions about a free bowl of noodles.
Which is what he gets. Same as usual. He picks up his chopsticks. Watches Kimiko stuff some noodles in her face for a second. ]
So what're we talking about?
no subject
Reaching over, she reaches toward his knuckles with almost a tap. Her fingers don’t actually make contact with his skin, but they come close enough to get the message across. The divots between his knuckles, from which she’s seen claws extend and glint in a barely lit barbershop.
Mr Popclaw, she still thinks in her head, even though she’s only seen the original Popclaw in fuzzy, discreetly taken pictures.
She’ll have to get over that eventually. Stop making comparisons. Stop holding up that world over this one.
He said his name was Logan. She tries to remember it.
Kimiko continues to shovel noodles into her mouth hole. ]
no subject
His gaze follows hers to his hand. Right. He flexes his fingers automatically. If they weren't in the middle of a well-lit restaurant, he might've let her see them again. It doesn't bother him, revealing them. But there are abilities you can show off like a harmless little party trick, floating pencils or making ice cubes, and then there's unsheathing ten-inch blades over a bowl of soup.
He sticks to eating. What's she wanna know? He could ask, normally would, but he gets answering questions is a pain in the ass for her, so he just. Picks a place to start. ]
Used to be bone. [ Something he only vaguely recalled 'til they kicked him back fifty years, long before Stryker, and he realized he was about two hundred pounds lighter. ] Then they got coated in metal. I don't remember when they came out. Probably popped when I was a kid...most of us start showing signs when we're kids.
[ She's gonna start realizing how many of his answers are I don't remember the more she asks. ]
no subject
Nothing happens. Her brow furrows with concentration but no claws pop out.
Flattening her hands against the table, she doesn't let herself get down about it. She knows why. He asked her if her friends are like her, but without realising she's not like them.
Pulling out her phone, she types a message. Even with the numerical keypad and the limited function of her flip phone, she's ruthlessly quick and efficient with it. The words show as a text message sent to herself, and it isn't the only one. ]
Signs of what?
no subject
He peers at the little screen. ] Our abilities. Mutations. [ Whatever you wanna call it. ] Old friend of mine ran a school for mutants. Not every parent wanted a kid with powers.
[ And not every kid wanted to tell their parents. For good reason. Anyway, he doesn't know if she's the same. Her world's obviously different enough. Maybe her powers didn't manifest until she was much older. The only thing he's learned about her from Scott is that she was experimented on. Like him.
Which begs the question: what exactly did they do to her? But that's her story to tell or not. God knows he's got zero fucking interest in talking about his. ]
no subject
Oh.
Oh, shit.
Kimiko's eyes widen and she hurries to type something else. The prospect of a school has immediately put her on edge. The children of Red River are ground down, prodded at and othered so severely that when Vought's Supe product conveyor belt eventually deposits them at Godolkin, they are primed to be moulded into publicity darlings. The whole thing makes Kimiko very, very uneasy.
Another text, held up for him to squint at. ]
Godolkin University?
no subject
No. Xavier's Institute—Charles Xavier. [ He glances from the phone to Kimiko to see if that name might spark some recognition. Like he told Scott, Charles has a way of finding people who need him. ] He took us in. Never knew him to turn anybody away.
[ For a moment, he's quiet, picking absently at his noodles. The school fell years ago. And he's not sure he's got the words to explain what that place really meant to all of them. To him. It's more than a school. It's more than a home. Sometimes he catches himself missing it: the halls, the rich smell of mahogany, the brats that'd get in his way every morning. He wandered for decades. The school's the only place he returned to time and again.
He taps her phone screen. ] The university, that where you're from?
no subject
Charles Xavier is a name she recognises. His unassuming friendliness has been reassuring, especially in the wake of Scott's eagerness and Logan's... whatever this is. She hadn't realised he was the owner of a school with the same alleged parameters as Godolkin.
He took us in.
Never knew him to turn anybody away.
It's... surprising, to hear anyone be talked about in this way. It's like a canker eating at the heart of the belief system she's spent the last few years cobbling together. Kimiko spends a few moments gently moving the noodles around with the chopsticks before typing out another message. Buying a phone is a real game changer. ]
Why did you ask if my friends are like me?
no subject
If she wasn't a part of her university, one still exists. Which means...what? Something isn't adding up. The only thing he can say is that whatever this school is, she doesn't like it.
A pause. Didn't think about it too hard, actually. The question came naturally: human or mutant? Maybe it's not like that everywhere, maybe it's not like that in her reality, either, but old habits are what they are. ]
I just like to know who I'm dealing with.
[ Truth is, he isn't sure what she's looking for; in return, he's not sure what he's got to offer. He's here because...she asked him, for one. Because she reminds him of himself, for another. But he's not good at it. The whole connecting part of this.
He studies her for a second before he finally adds: ] Where I'm from, humans have been trying to get rid of us for decades.
no subject
Where I'm from, people like you need to be gotten rid of_
No. An unnamable impulse leaves her cold. Delete, delete, delete.
Where I'm from, people like us_
The chill doesn't abandon the back of her neck. It presses harder, sowing its dominion by force. She isn't good at this. She wishes she wasn't alone here, fumbling through this with all the grace of a stone square wheel being pushed down a mountain. Delete, delete.
In the end, it's a relatively brief message, considering the time she spent typing it. ]
Do you know who Homelander is?
no subject
He wants to ask what it was she really meant to say. But he doesn't. ]
No. [ He reaches for a crumpled napkin. ] I don't think we come from the same reality, Kimiko.
[ Similar, but not the same. Maybe that's why he's taken interest in her. She's...it wouldn't be anything strange if she was another mutant from his world. She's not. She's just close enough that it leaves a dozen questions behind. Who experimented on her? What does the university mean? And what work does she do for the man she calls her boss?
Homelander sure as hell sounds like a call sign, though. That's familiar, too. ]
That someone else you're looking for?
no subject
Homelander, though? He would announce himself. He would seek to fill whatever space's he's in. Everyone would know his face, his voice, whether they wanted to or not. The thought fills her with unease. She's glad Logan has no idea who she's referencing. This place really is different. Maybe she can start over here. Forget about everything that happened before Panorama.
His question begets a small shake of her head in answer. Some hair gets into her noodles.
Another message. Pok-pok-pok on the keypad. ]
I hope he never comes here.
If he does, stay away from him.
no subject
He pokes idly at the bits left in his bowl while he reads.
Worth filing that information away. He's starting to gather all the pieces, even if he hasn't got a damn clue what it's supposed to mean yet. A scattering of names. A handful of tidbits from Scott. He's curious, but it's more than that, too. He's not trying to put her together like a puzzle. He just...wants to know who she is. ]
Did he hurt you?
[ Yeah, he's aware she heals. That's not what he means. ]
no subject
No, Homelander never hurt her would be her immediate answer. They've never shared space. While he stomps around in movie premieres and on the upper floors of the Vought tower, she exists in the shadows of the CIA's payroll and Operation: The Boys. But she thinks about his highly public dalliance with Stormfront, of Kenji's broken body on the roof, those notorious red boots touching down so softly among the stones — I said he was mine.
She doesn't want to share that. This is a place where Kenji never existed. Never lived, never died. She can't bear to kill him all over again.
Instead, with quirked eyebrows and a distinctly skeptical expression, she gestures roughly at herself. How could anyone hurt her? She's too awesome! Etc. ]
no subject
She gets all cute about it, and Logan rolls his eyes a little—exasperated but unbothered. That's how it's gonna be, huh? She brought him up for a reason; he must've done something, if not to her, then to somebody she cares about. But he didn't come here to interrogate her.
Maybe another time, he'll ask again. ]
There's one more thing. [ Before she goes, before he also takes off, there's something Scott told him, something he didn't want to bring up at the start but couldn't stop thinking about throughout their conversation. He isn't sure she ever meant for him to know—though he figures if Scott got it out of her on their first meeting, it probably isn't some big secret. ]
Scott said you were part of an experiment. You don't gotta tell me about it, just, uh—
[ Shit, where's he going with this? He's...it's complicated, when he still hears you volunteered echo in his head. Maybe Stryker was just fucking with him—likely—but another part of him thinks: whether he walked into Alkali on his own or they captured him, it makes no difference. He was never an innocent man when he went in. And that's a truth he's too aware of whenever the topic comes up.
He releases his chopsticks. They roll against the rim of his empty bowl before he finally finishes his sentence. ]
I get it.
no subject
She's wrong about that, of course. But no one else has extricated themselves from The Shining Light and survived. In the pidgin she created with Kenji, the sign for monster is a slow, twisting thing; it comes together and pivots, suggesting transformation over time — something that is made, not born. The way he's explained it, he and Charles and Scott and their ilk were all born like this. Nothing was forced on them. It doesn't occur to her that he's telling her something about himself, in secretive ambiguities that equal her own.
But the sentiment, the attempt at understanding, at inclusion, it leaves her smiling. It leaves her chest feeling a little less tumultuous, warmed in a way that doesn't altogether owe to the hot broth.
Maybe this conversation wasn't a total failure.
Holding up a hand — wait a second — she turns to wave over Sophie, miming out something too quick to follow. A moment or two later, Sophie sweeps in with a small ice cream cone topped with a scoop of black mochi. It's held out to Logan. Kimiko's smile only grows, somewhere between affectionate and teasing, in a way that announces her cheeks and touches her eyes. ]
🎀 wrap soon?
Alright, he's waiting. For what, he isn't sure, 'til the woman circles back out and he finds himself with a cone in his hand.
When was the last time he stopped for an ice cream? Longer than he cares to think back to. In fact, despite that she doesn't speak and despite the way they're both, well, what they are, this has been strangely...huh. Pleasant? Normal, even.
He tips the cone slightly toward her in acknowledgment. Thanks for lunch. ]
wrapped!
Even if she isn't sure she believes him when he claims to understand her, she's slowly beginning to realise that may not even matter. He's responded to her with patience and kindness every step of the way, even when she's struggled to maintain grip on her sense of humanity (sometimes thick, sometimes flimsy; Rome wasn't deprogrammed in a day).
At some point, Sophie passes Kimiko a chocolate coin wrapped in flimsy gold foil. When they do go their separate ways, Kimiko presses it into Logan's hand before disappearing around a corner. ]